Chapter 4

Author's note: Thank you for the reviews , favourites and followers

Warnings: very vague reference to prostitution and underage hanky panky

It takes Merlin by surprise the next time he sees Arthur. It's the 1930's in New York City and Merlin's on a busy sidewalk on an upturned bucket performing cheap magic tricks. Will is in the crowd surrounding him picking pockets. He never takes anything of sentimental value, just a few coins here and there, and only from people that don't throw anything in the top hat at Merlin's feet.

They've been doing this for a couple years now and it works for them. Merlin pulls daisies out of his old suit jacket and tosses them at a pretty lady while Will slips his hands in the husband's coat pocket. Merlin uses what little magic he can spare to shield Will as best he can. They so far have never been caught.

Their life is not glamorous but it keeps them from starving.

Merlin almost glances right past Arthur. He always keeps his eyes open in hope of seeing his prince again but he just did not expect to see him so…established. Arthur is standing towards the front holding a small girl's hand in one hand and with an arm wrapped around Gwen. He has short greying hair and a well-trimmed beard. He's dressed modestly (because everyone is suffering right then) but his coat is obviously lined with some kind of fur and his dress pants are clean and tailored perfectly. Gwen is hiding behind blue eyes this time and short red hair. Their little girl is no one Merlin knows but is a splitting image of her mother.

It seems that Arthur is doing perfectly fine while Merlin can hardly make it through each day. The knowledge leaves him cold all over and he almost forgets where he is for a second. It's Will's sharp gaze that gets him to pull out a multi-colour handkerchief from a gentleman's blazer pocket.

When Merlin looks back Arthur's gone and Merlin can hardly find the energy to look around him.

That's the problem really; energy. Merlin is supposed to be the greatest sorcerer in the world but he's stuck doing party tricks because he's so hungry he hardly has enough energy to keep standing let alone do anything else.

The years have not been kind.

Merlin was born without a name or home. He sometimes thinks that it's karma paying him back for not appreciating his home and family in his previous life. Merlin grew up in a children's home in central New York with Hunith and Gaius as two of his main caretakers. Life had been good at first. He had people call him Merlin as soon as he was old enough to do so and him and Will (or rather Henry) spent every waking moment together. He felt like himself.

And then the stock markets crashed, or some bubble burst, or was it the banks? Merlin can't say what is was but everything changed. Hunith and Gaius were fired because they could not be paid. The home didn't have enough funding to function properly so Merlin got quite acquainted with his good friend hunger.

It was Will's idea to leave the home. They would go find jobs, he said. They would get an apartment together and eat cake every day, he said. It didn't work out like that, of course. No one wanted to hire a couple of skinny kids with no references. No one was hiring, period.

They spent a lot of time wandering before they found a safe haven in an abandoned fire station. The floorboards were suspect and there was a constant cold breeze that didn't go away no matter how many fires they lit, but it was theirs. Most importantly, it kept them off the streets where all kinds of hell existed.

Merlin wishes he could have protected Will better but he knows between the two of them he's had it the worst. Initially, while Merlin mastered subtle magic, Will would go to his "construction job". In retrospect Merlin knows that he was being naïve. He should have realised what was happening before it happened. Will would come home dirty with matted down hair and bits of torn clothing. He would completely ignore Merlin in favour of the tin bucket kept full with water stolen from their neighbour's hose. Merlin would watch as Will took his time bathing, washing his hair despite the chill in the air. When he was done he would wash his clothes with vigour, not relenting until every stain was out.

There was enough space in the little attic they hid in for Will to have his own space and Merlin his, however on those nights Will would drag his solitary blanket towards Merlin slowly as if asking for permission. Merlin would fall asleep with his best friend wrapped around him and breathing in his skin like it was the only thing holding him together.

It was a couple of months later that Merlin finally learnt what "construction work" actually meant. He had seen them before; the clubs. Men would go and spend what little money they had on drink and dancing women. Behind those clubs was a whole other business going on. Merlin tried his best to avoid walking anywhere near the alleys that older men crept through picking up the desperate.

When he saw one of those men with one hand wrapped tightly around Will's throat and the other hand in his trousers, Merlin simply reacted. He barely looked at the limp body of the man he threw across the alley without lifting a finger. Those that were near knew to keep their eyes down so saw nothing. Will said nothing as Merlin grabbed his hand. Merlin tried not to see how his friend initially flinched from him.

They made their way back slowly, Merlin using nothing but muscle memory to guide him home as his mind ran a thousand miles an hour. Will said nothing as Merlin led him up the wooden stairs to their hideout. He was silent as he wet a cloth and placed it at Will's brow, wiping slowly.

"Look me in the eyes, Merlin."

Will's voice was barely above a whisper. He was shaking but stared Merlin down as if daring him to make him feel small. He saw his best friend so clearly just then it him hard. He saw his Will, his Will that stood stock still in his doorway as he watched his mother leave him for promises of something better. He didn't shed a tear then just as he refused to now.

"Never again. You're not doing that ever again. We'll figure out something else, okay?"

Will nodded, his breath leaving him in shudders.

That night Will wrapped himself around Merlin's slim form. He slipped a hand under his shirt and Merlin let him knowing that Will needed that little bit of control.

Honestly, he needed it too.

So Merlin didn't back away when Will's lips landed on his. Instead he kissed him with all the gentleness he could master and said, "I'm going to protect you from now on. I promise."

Really, Merlin should have known better than to promise anyone anything. Shortly after seeing Arthur that first time the weather went south; so chilly Merlin started to forget what it was like to feel warm. He kept looking out for him, staying out later than he usually did in the hopes of catching him. When he saw him again he didn't waste the opportunity. Merlin followed him through crowded streets, his red coat sticking out in a sea of black and grey. He watched him give money to a group of beggars and buy bread for another group before he disappeared deeper into the crowds.

Merlin had to run on his unsteady legs to catch up.

It took half an hour of not so stealthy stalking before he followed Arthur to modest but obviously posh apartment building. Merlin watched him walk in, the light engulfing him so all he could see was a silhouette. He stood there until he couldn't bear the cold anymore, blowing on his icy fingers while shooting glances back at Arthur's home.

He followed Arthur home more times than he would like to admit. He would leave his usual spot telling Will he wanted to check out another busier spot. He hated lying to Will but he just didn't know how to explain Arthur to him. How was he supposed to summarise all his lives in a way that didn't make him sound crazy? He didn't feel right bringing up Arthur, not when his nights with Will were filled with tentative touches, soft breaths and eager kisses. Merlin didn't quite know what he was doing. All he knew was that the gaping hole in his chest that seemed to stretch open with each life was a little less noticeable with Will in his arms.

He learnt a lot as the temperature dropped and snow started filling his shoes on his long treks back to Will. Arthur's new name was Lucian and he was a physician at a children's hospital working long hours most days. Gwen went by Marian and spent most days in door with their daughter Alice playing the housewife role that Merlin never thought could fit. On weekends they opened their home to the sick, offering medical service to those too desperate or ill to go elsewhere. Merlin was sure it wasn't strictly legal but he figured Arthur wouldn't care.

Merlin never thought he would ever actually meet this Arthur. He figured his role was to be in the shadows; a guardian angel. Much like he was in Egypt, in fact. He certainly did not anticipate waking up next to a fevered Will with skin hotter than a furnace. Merlin didn't stop to think and second guess himself. He threw on as many layers as he could on both Will and himself. He wasn't sure if that was a good idea or not, with Will's spiked temperature, but snow had fallen in thick layers last night and he was afraid the cold would make him worse.

He spent what little money they had on a taxi to Arthur's apartment knowing he could support Will's weight for such a distance. Merlin thanked whatever gods were still looking out for as he approached the apartment building to see a small queue of people outside an apartment door. Arthur was seeing people so he would tend to Will.

The people let him pass by without a fuss. One look at Will and it was obvious whatever pains they had could wait. Gwen approached them as Merlin settle a limp Will on a portable hospital bed in what must have been the living room.

"Please help me, my friend…I don't know…I woke up and he was like this," he tried to explain.

Merlin was physically shaking, adrenalin coursing through his veins. It took him a long time to understand Gwen when she told him to calm down, take a few breaths.

Gwen went and got Arthur who took one look at Will and told them to move him to a bedroom.

"We don't want anyone else getting sick," he exclaimed in his unfamiliar American accent.

Merlin and Gwen supported Will as Arthur dismissed the few people waiting to be seen.

Merlin sat next to Will thinking he had never seen his friend look so small. If only he could have mastered his healing magic. What use was he if he could even stop this?

Arthur attended to Will, speaking softly to Merlin as he did it.

"I'm just going to take his temperature, okay?" he said before placing a thermometer between his lips. And, "We're just going to take off these clothes, okay? We need to cool him down."

The adrenaline completely left his body at Arthur's soft tone. He watched him attend to Will with military procession. He often stopped his actions to jot something down in a journal or ask Gwen to get this or that.

At some point, without his consent, his body decided it had had enough and he fell asleep in the arm chair adjacent to the bed. He knew something was wrong when he tried to open his eyes and he couldn't. He told himself to get up, check on Will, do something but he couldn't. He felt his magic beneath his skin like it was trying to get out of him. He could imagine his magic as a physical being saying, weak body…I'm done with you.

He felt like he was submerged in water; like that time he went swimming in the river by his home even though his mother told him not to. He could feel water pushing him down then, water filling him up like it could fill all his empty spots…make him whole. He thinks that maybe he should be cold but it feels like his blood is boiling, like someone had taken a match to it.

He can barely hear Arthur through the water in his ears but he clings to his voice like it's the last think he'll hear. Which, Merlin realises with the passive acceptance of someone that has died before, it probably is.

Dead.

Move the body.

I don't…I'm trying!

We should…what if I can't.

I'm so sorry.

A couple lives later Merlin will open a medical journal of a colleague and find himself unable to move or speak. He'll read the references to a journal written by Dr Lucian Grey about two adolescent males and the autopsy that changed the way physicians in the 1930's, and thereafter, approached infections and subsequent fevers. He'll close the journal and pour himself a very strong drink.