Title: Forever
Pairing: Merlin/Arthur
Summary: Arthur keeps dying, and Merlin keeps travelling to meet and help him. Forever and ever.
Notes: I own nothing.
The blood slipped over his fingers as gunfire rang through the evening air. Arthur shuddered beneath him, his eyes darting everywhere before settling on Merlin's dirt-streaked, tear-stained face. He took a few laboured breaths and forced a smile through the pain.
"Tell me if we win, next time..."
Merlin let out a chocking laugh. "You'll already have learned about it by then," he said, and Arthur shared a laugh before he died. Merlin sobbed and clutched the body tighter to him, ignoring the yells of his comrades to get to someone he could actually help. He heard no more when the familiar feeling of a bullet ripping through his skull jolted his body into a habitual tug at his navel, and he felt his body jump one, two, three times through a mass of nothingness, and he landed on asphalt on his hands and knees, gasping for air.
"Are you alright, mate?" A familiar voice rang in his ears and Merlin smiled through the pain his landing had caused.
"Yeah," he replied, pushing himself to his feet. He felt a hand steady him, fingers wrapped around his bicep, through the fabric of a new shirt, a muddy red half-sleeved thing. A pair of jeans graced his legs, replacing his uniform, though he already had holes in his knees from the ground. He wore sneakers in bright colours, and a quick glance around let him take in the fashion of this era. "Yeah, just got a little dizzy."
He let his gaze settle on Arthur, alive and whole and fresh-faced. He couldn't be much older than twenty, and Merlin could only assume his own appearance had shifted to match. His magic was tricky like this, and Merlin found it better to just not ask questions.
"My name's Arthur," the blonde said, his hand removed from Merlin's bicep to offer a handshake. He was very friendly this lifetime, Merlin noticed, and he wondered what kind of life he had lived this time.
"Mine's Merlin," he replied, and Arthur gave a snort of laughter.
"What, like the wizard? King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table?"
Merlin smiled and took Arthur's hand. "Yes, exactly."
He watched as the magic worked its way through Arthur's mind, replaying his every lifetime simultaneously. The man staggered when it ended, and Merlin caught him, supporting his weight while the man regained his bearings. After a moment, he stood on his own and turned to look at Merlin, a wide grin in his eyes as he pulled the other man down into a searing kiss.
"Good to have you back," he breathed out when they parted, running his thumbs over Merlin's cheekbones while the other man spilled his hands over Arthur's chest where he last saw a bullet wound, though he was mindful to keep it over the shirt since they were already getting a few stares.
"Good to have you back, sire."