A/N: thank you once again for any feedback left on previous chapters. You have no idea how much it makes me smile. Merlin may be a little OOC in this chapter, depending how you view it but I think it illustrates the tough time he's been having without his bestest friend. Hope you enjoy the chapter.
Chapter 5.
Arthur watched transfixed as the nurse prodded at the crook of his elbow. She chattered away happily, seemingly oblivious to the fact that Arthur did not have a clue what she was blabbering on about.
'Okay, you're just going to feel a sharp prick,' she explained in a voice that was much too cheerful. How could anyone be that happy as they were forcing small metal objects into people's bodies?
At the last second Arthur squeezed his eyes shut. His stomach was turning. He felt weak at the thought of the blood being sucked from his body. Images of his arm shriveling up as the ridiculously effervescent woman sucked it dry invaded his mind.
'All done' she announced suddenly in the same cheerful tone. 'Results will be through this afternoon,'
Merlin stood in the shower, forehead pressed against the cool tile. Scalding water was bouncing off his neck and cascading down his back. There was an anxious feeling swirling about in his stomach. He stood motionless, scared that if he moved he would empty the contents of his stomach onto his feet. The hot water helped, but only slightly.
He was nervous. How was Arthur going to react to seeing him? How much did Arthur remember? Did he remember Merlin's powers? And more importantly, if he did, did he resent him for them?
Merlin had thought he'd found Arthur once before. It had possibly been simultaneously the most elated, disappointed and confused he'd felt in the past thousand years.
He had woken up, a familiar pounding in his head. The world spun as he turned over, he felt like he was falling out of bed, though the soft mattress remained firmly underneath his body. After a few seconds his surroundings came into view. With a jolt, Merlin realised he was not in his own room. He cringed slightly as he tried to remember what had happened the night before. It was a blur.
This was not the first time Merlin had woken in the bed of a stranger. In fact it was becoming an increasingly common occurrence. He rolled over once more in an attempt to view whomever he had accompanied home last night. His heart stopped. No. It couldn't be. Could it? A mop of golden hair was poking out of the sheets.
Merlin caught his breath. What the fuck was he doing in bed with Arthur!? He couldn't comprehend it.
'Arthur?' He ventured, lightly touching the man's arm.
There was a groan as the golden-haired man turned over. 'Mmm... Who the fuck is Arthur?'
Merlin felt a great relief. That meant he hadn't completely lost it and gone to bed with Arthur. On the other hand, he could feel his heart shattering. The stranger was just that. He was a stranger; some random guy that just so happened to have the same colour hair as Arthur. Reality struck again. How could he be so stupid to think it was Arthur? The King was dead. He had been for centuries. Why in the world did Merlin expect to bump into him in some sweaty nightclub?
'I...err... I have to go,' Merlin muttered, peeling the somewhat sticky bed sheets away from his bare legs.
Not-Arthur stared at Merlin, dumbstruck. He looked like he might be offended. Merlin was aware how bad it looked. He hated seeing the hurt in Not-Arthur's eyes. But he couldn't stay here. This wasn't right.
'Nothing personal,' Merlin added as he scrambled about for his clothes. He felt sick. Sick and dirty and wrong. Why did he do this to himself?
Without giving Not-Arthur time to talk Merlin ran out of the building. As he ran, the contents of his stomach threatened to spill out. No sooner had he catapulted himself through the front door did the contents of his stomach go through with their threat. Merlin promptly threw up all over his shoes.
Merlin was jolted back to the present day as his stomach lurched at the memory. Shakily he turned the tap on the shower. He stepped out and went to brush his teeth. He ignored the towel rack, instead opting to let himself drip dry. He didn't care about the goose bumps sprouting up on his body. In a strange way he relished the discomfort it caused.
Eventually Merlin left the bathroom. He grabbed a pair of underwear and hastily pulled them on. In doing so, he nearly lost his balance. It was only then did he notice he was shaking though he could not tell if it was from the cold, being nervous or something else. He needed something to perk himself up. Preferably something that would help him to think straight. He needed to have a clear mind today.
He settled on a strong black coffee, drinking it down in quick gulps. He didn't think he could face anything to eat. The caffeine perked him up a little and Merlin finally set about getting dressed. He opted for his usual t-shirt, jeans and a light-coloured jacket. He took a look in the mirror, noting the dark circles around his eyes and his slightly too pale skin. He added the final touch: a red scarf. He looked almost the same as he always had done. Surely Arthur would recognise him now.
Leaving the bedsit during the day without that godforsaken disguise was slightly liberating Merlin noted. Though it was only by a miniscule fraction, he felt a little more positive.
Martin pulled on his jacket and shoes. He sat on the bottom of the stairs to tie his laces as he found he had to these days.
'Where are you going?' Brenda called from the living room, a small smile curling her lips. Martin was always getting into something. As long as that something wasn't trouble she didn't mind.
'I'm off to see Arthur,' Martin called back.
'His name isn't Arthur, dear. The boy is delusional,' Brenda replied. She felt sorry for the boy; washing up in a place where no one seemed to know who he was. Apparently he didn't even know who he was himself.
'What should I call him then?' Martin gave the small smirk he reserved for the very rare occasion when he knew he'd won an argument.
Brenda didn't answer. 'Just be careful,' she chided. 'I don't want you getting mixed up in anything weird,'
'Hate to say it, but I think I already am,' Martin mumbled. He was unsure whether Brenda had heard him as she didn't answer. She crossed the threshold into the hallway and gave him a peck on the cheek.
'Make sure you're back in time for dinner,'
Martin nodded and hurried out of the door, calling good bye over his shoulder. He strolled to a nearby bus stop and fished in his pocket for his bus pass.
The journey to the hospital was largely uneventful. He wondered what the boy's reaction would be to him. Sure, he knew it perhaps came across as a little strange. He was going to visit someone that he didn't even know. However, in his defence he had saved the boy's life. It was only natural that he wanted to see how he was getting on. Martin was jerked out of his thoughts by the bus pulling up at the hospital. He started to make his way to the psychiatric ward where he knew Arthur was now staying.
Dr Holden squinted at the notes for the patient insisting he was Arthur Pendragon. There was no denying that there was something going on in the young man's head that was causing delusions. It was possible he suffered from hallucinations as well, but that one was harder to monitor.
The obvious diagnosis would be one of some sort of mental health condition; schizophrenia or perhaps bipolar disorder though there didn't seem to be any other symptoms that matched with either condition. Of course delusions may be caused by other factors as well. It was for this reason he put Arthur through rigorous testing: various brain scanning techniques as well as several blood tests for underlying conditions before calling in the psychiatrist.
All of the tests however, had come back completely normal. He was as average as can be for any twenty-something year old male. Even mental health conditions tended to show some abnormality in the brain, but Arthur was, in his own words 'as fit as a fiddle,' There wasn't even any evidence of drugs; recreational or otherwise that may produce similar effects.
Dr Holden sighed. The patient really was a conundrum. There was, as far as he could tell, absolutely nothing wrong with the young man. There was nothing wrong with him apart from the fact that he believed himself to be the King of Camelot.
He made his way to the room in which the patient was staying. He was sat up in bed, wide eyed and examining his surroundings with a fascinated curiosity. At the sound of the doctor's footsteps, Arthur looked up.
"Have you got my results yet?" he asked, pulling his attention away from the machines around him.
"You will be pleased to know that everything is fine," Dr Holden said. He opened his mouth to continue but was abruptly cut off.
"Then why am I still here?" Arthur demanded. He was getting restless. There had still been no word from his wife, any of the knights or Merlin.
"We would like to keep you under observation. At least until the initial stress from your incident has worn off," Dr Holden explained. "We think you may be suffering some side effects from the stress,"
After all it was the only remaining rational explanation. Stress and trauma could do funny things to the mind. It was Dr Holden's hope that Arthur's delusions were a product of the trauma he had suffered the day before.
"I'm going to find someone that you can talk to. So we can fully assess the situation,"
"There's nothing to assess!" Arthur insisted. "I am absolutely fine. I think it's time for me to leave,"
With that, Arthur swung his legs off of the bed. He was a little unsteady on his feet. He was still sore and dizzy from the previous day but he desperately wanted to find out what was going on. The people here were hiding something from him and he was going to find out what.