Some angsty Merthur for everyone on Christmas!
Arthur didn't know that it was possible to feel so much pain. He had been through the most horrific physical injuries and sicknesses, but none of them compared to the pain he felt now; the pain he felt even though there were no wounds on his body. He stared up at Merlin's pale white face, every ounce of his body wishing that the dark haired boy would open up his eyes and be okay. He wanted nothing more than to see Merlin smile, and to hear his stupid voice again. But he didn't believe that would ever happen.
Merlin wasn't dead, but he was as close as it comes. It took Gaius over an hour to stop the bleeding, and by the time he had done so the sword wound on Merlin's stomach had become an angry red color with infection. Gaius had told Arthur that it was unbelievable that the boy was still alive at all, considering all the blood he had lost. He also said that Merlin was as good as dead, and would probably never wake from his unconscious state. Arthur asked if there was something, anything that he could do to help his friend, but Gaius said that there was no way he could help the dying boy.
Arthur hated the feeling of helplessness. It clawed at him and made him feel like the most useless person in the entire world, because his best friend was going to die and he couldn't do a single thing about it. He sat next to Merlin's bed, holding his hand and watched as he got paler and paler with each passing hour. He could see how even in his sleep, Merlin's face was scrunched up with the terrible pain of his wound. Seeing Merlin in pain and not being able to do anything about it was killing Arthur, and he couldn't seem to see any light at the end of the tunnel.
But the feeling that was ten times worse than the helplessness or the fear was his guilt. It was all his fault that Merlin was laying here two feet from death. There was no one to blame but him. He had done this; he was the one at fault for all of Merlin's pain. It was a burning feeling inside of his chest, eating him alive because he knew that if it weren't for him, Merlin would still be happy, healthy, and safe.
Arthur's grip on Merlin's small hand tightened as he looked over his body. He had never looked so small, so pale, or so skinny. It didn't seem fair that he should be laying on a bed dying, while having done absolutely nothing wrong. Merlin had simply been asked to come along on a simple hunting trip because Arthur wanted the company. He hated himself for bringing Merlin along, if he hadn't then none of this would have happened. Merlin would be his old, happy self.
Maybe if they had gone hunting in a different part of the woods, then Merlin wouldn't be dying. Or maybe if Merlin had been feeling a little sick that day, and couldn't come with. Maybe if Arthur hadn't been so distracted during the trip. Maybe, maybe, maybe, maybe, maybe. His head was filled with the word. If only one tiny thing had been different, then none of this would have happened. But maybe wasn't getting Arthur anywhere. No matter how hard he thought about how little something could of changed to save Merlin, he wouldn't wake up. He couldn't change the past, no matter how much he wished that he could.
"You need to wake up Merlin, for me. Just wake up, please. Wake up! Come on, Merlin, wake up!" Arthur whispered to Merlin's unmoving form, tears starting to form in his eyes. No matter how much he begged, Merlin wasn't waking up. Knowing that didn't stop him from hoping, from pleading, from begging Merlin to come back to consciousness. Nothing would bring him back.
As Gaius quietly entered the room to give Merlin his medicine, he saw Arthur sitting next to Merlin's bed, clutching his hand with tears falling.
"Arthur, it's not your fault," Gaius said in a reassuring voice.
"Don't say that, Gaius!" Arthur screamed, "Of course it's my fault, everything is my fault! If it weren't for me, he'd still be perfectly fine!"
"It's not like you meant for him to get hurt, Arthur," Gaius said, trying to calm the Prince down.
"So? Who cares whether or not I meant to do it! I did, and now he's dying because of it!"
"I'm doing everything I can to keep him alive, Sire. I promise you that."
"But what happens when he does die? You said yourself that you didn't think he would make it! What am I supposed to do with all of that guilt for the rest of my life?" Arthur asked, his voice still in a loud scream.
"Arthur, I told you, this is not your fault," Gaius said again, attempting to bring Arthur's voice down.
"Gaius, how can you say that?" Arthur shouted, "I was the one who ran that bloody sword through his stomach!"
I hope you enjoyed it, you'll get the story of what happened next chapter! Review please!