"Yes mum... yes... no... yes... Yes, I promise not to get shanked again... yes... yes... okay... Love you too!"
Merlin placed his phone in his pocket and took his seat next to Arthur in first class, just like he had the last time. He was happy first class was as barren this time as it had been then; he was paranoid about who was a Drinker, and who wasn't, and how the hell would he know? He didn't know if he should start wearing a bullet proof jacket or chain mail or something equally as ridiculous to protect himself.
He rested his head back on the very comfortable seat and looked at Arthur, who was setting his bag on the floor. Merlin was lucky and had gotten the window seat this time.
"So," Merlin said in a near-desperate attempt to try and make conversation—and not for the first time, either. "It feels good to be going home, eh?"
Arthur's eyes flickered to Merlin and he said, "Yeah, it sure does," but he didn't really mean that. He had fallen in love with sleeping next to Merlin every night and hearing his gentle snores, and sometimes feeling Merlin's arm reach out to see if he was still there. A few times he'd woken up wrapped in Merlin, having completely moved over to Merlin's bed without even noticing. Merlin had probably just needed a friend though, Arthur figured, because after Merlin's reaction to the kiss, how could he be gay?
After the plane had lifted in take off and had soared to thirty thousand feet, Merlin lazily reclined his seat and allowed the gentle breeze of the fan above wash cool air over him. He was so conflicted with the duty of the job he had to do, to defend himself against the Drinkers and to dismantle this magic-hating organization before they killed him. He looked out the window to the endless clouds below and felt a sense of security, as if he were safe here.
Merlin felt a shift in the cabin. As he turned from the window to the inside and noticed a shade of green overturn everything, his breathing echoed into the air and returned distorted and manipulated, like bad feedback. He felt light, and yet he felt scared. Merlin stood up, feeling the gravity beneath him change and twist. He noticed immediately that he was unable to touch anything—his hand just simply passed through everything.
This is... really weird, he thought.
"Yes. Yes it is, isn't it?"
Merlin turned his head to see a woman with long black hair, skin as pale as his and with eyes as black as night. He stood across the plane against the other wall, noting her body which was decorated with black clothing that looked to be a mix of a wedding dress and some sort of a prison wardrobe. Merlin looked at her, but didn't say anything.
"It's weird, isn't it?" the lady said, "being in the astral plane?" She ran her right hand through her hair, her gaze seductive.
Merlin opened his mouth to speak. "Don't bother," she said angrily, "that was a rhetorical question."
She walked quickly across the cabin to Merlin and extended her hand, an eerie black aura seeming to emanate from her limbs, corrupting and destroying the life around her. He could only watch as it slowly poisoned Arthur's face, seeping into his veins and stretching across his face.
"My name is Morgana," she said with a strange politeness. "And you... you're the mighty Emrys."
Merlin took a step back in recoil. How did she know who he—what was she doing to Arthur? His eyes glared at Morgana and he started to emit light, which seeped into Arthur and began to reverse the corruption she was doing.
Morgana gave him a dark glare, knowing that she was about to lose him. He was untrained, she knew, but he was still very powerful and smart.
"Listen here, you little shit," she said. "You are a very important person, and if you fuck anything up for me I will make sure that you and that little faggot boyfriend of yours get chopped up and eaten by something fierce, do you understand?" Morgana now had her face just a few inches from Merlin's, who felt her hot breath that reeked of garlic. Merlin could only nod quickly, because although he didn't know what was going on, there was no way he was going to take any chances. Not when it came to Arthur.
Morgana took a few steps back, walking through Arthur and clapping her hands. "Good dog," she said, and she promptly disappeared.
The haul went back to normal, the green haze lifting, and Merlin felt himself become heavy and real again. Arthur looked up at him surprised.
"Merlin..." he started, confused. "I didn't even see you stand up."
Merlin met his eyes, his own face was in shock, and Arthur could sense something was wrong. "Merlin, what is it?"
"N-Nothing," Merlin replied, "just..." He tried to collect his thoughts. "A woman... long black hair... black eyes... so scary."
No... Arthur thought, He couldn't be talking about... about her... could he? "Morgana?" Arthur asked questionably, almost conversationally. Merlin shot a confused look at Arthur.
Shit, I didn't mean to think out loud... wait... how does he know her? What the fuck?
Arthur gave Merlin a deeply puzzled look. "Merlin, how do you know Morgana?" Arthur asked.
"Wait, no," Merlin said. "How do you know Morgana?" He didn't really feel like explaining anything to Arthur and he hoped he could deflect it away.
"I had a dream about her... a while ago," Arthur said honestly. "She was looking for someone named Emrys."
Merlin almost threw up all of his insides from the overwhelming feeling of being sick to his stomach. He looked down to Arthur and shooed him out of the way. "I need... I think I'm going to be sick."
Arthur stood up and allowed Merlin to pass and hurry down the aisle to the bathroom. He sat down and thought about how weird the event that just happened was. He rested his head back on his chair and, waiting for Merlin to return, he accidentally fell asleep, exhausted.
Merlin exited the bathroom about thirty minutes later. He noticed Arthur was sleeping so he gently stepped over him and sat in his chair. He needed to think about what was going to happen—he needed to think about the future.
It was clear now that Morgana had contacted Arthur before. What if Arthur got hurt? Merlin couldn't have that; he refused to put Arthur's life in danger.
Merlin laid back and put his iPod in his ears, and he started to plan.
The flight wasn't nearly as long as either of them had expected. They landed softy, though Merlin still clung to Arthur's hand again, and they exited the terminal to find a bunch of happy people.
"Oh, my baby!" Hunith cried. She and Richard walked briskly to Merlin, and both brought him into a big hug. Arthur's parents did the same. They all walked out of the airport together, listening to Merlin and Arthur share their stories of their adventures in Chicago, and of course, the incident.
The ride home seemed just as quick. Arthur couldn't stop thinking about the kiss, and Merlin couldn't stop thinking about Morgana and the Drinkers. Neither had really had a chance to talk to the other about how they really knew Morgana or about what was going on, though Merlin wanted to fill Arthur in, he did, but he simply couldn't.
Ignorance is bliss.
Merlin placed his bag on his room floor after closing the door behind him. It had been so long since he'd really felt at home. He looked around his room, to his telly, to his bed, to the door that led to his bathroom, and to the white carpet that matched the white walls, and then he walked over it, to the same bed and sat down upon it, ready to sleep.
It was so lonely, without Arthur. Merlin laid back and stretched out, his fingers reaching and reaching for Arthur who wasn't and would never be there. Merlin thought about him, about the nights where he pretended to be asleep, the nights where he threw an arm over Arthur, and where Arthur let him, where he'd been injured and scared. Merlin laughed at himself in his own head, thinking about how foolish it had been to go for that kiss in the planetarium, and he felt his pants tighten and he dropped his hands to his zipper, getting his fill of the Arthur he wished was there with him right now.
Arthur sat on his bed. It wasn't home, he thought as he looked around. The bed was so small, and it was without Merlin. Merlin. Arthur couldn't stop thinking about him. That's where his home was—with Merlin. He felt the tears come up again and a lump form in his throat, his mind racing back to the wonderful nights he had shared with Merlin. His touch, his scent, his voice, his smile... He felt like he needed Merlin so bad, like he was his life, his essence.
Arthur wiped the tears from his face. Why did he have to be such a baby? He couldn't keep himself in check. Hell, he hadn't been able to since Merlin had come into his life. Something about the raven haired boy was just so... perfect, so magnetic. Arthur laid back onto his bed and felt a wad of grief fill him, because he knew, he knew it was best if he and Merlin just weren't friends, he knew that was the best route to take, and so that's what he was going to do: he was going to push Merlin away. Arthur ran his hair through his hair, sighed, and rolled over, letting all his feelings pour into his pillow.
The next few weeks were awkward, to say the least. Merlin tried to talk to Arthur as much as he could, but Arthur was either "busy", or he just seemed uninterested, and Merlin didn't understand. Why was he being like this—constantly turning tables and being nice, then mean, then nice, then mean again? Merlin sighed and sat on his bed. Today he'd tried to ask Arthur if he wanted to go to a movie with him, and he'd been provided with another excuse; Arthur had said that he had work to do, but when Merlin checked with his dad's work schedule it showed that Arthur had actually had the day off.
Merlin hated how big the house was; it made it really easy to avoid people if you really wanted to. He got up, and he walked to the bathroom.
"If you ever have anything you need to talk about, you talk to me, okay?"
Merlin had thought about that for quite some time, but he was so sure that Arthur didn't want to be friends anymore that Merlin couldn't bring himself to talk to him.
Fuck him, Merlin thought.
He reached under his sink for that familiar black case, fighting his sobs. What did he do? How did he ruin that friendship so fast? Was it the kiss? Merlin shook his head, his hands shaking pulling the scalpel out of the case. He needed it, needed Arthur gone, just for a bit, just so he could find himself again. He stained his porcelain skin with red sin, and sighed deeply in salvation.
As soon as Merlin was sure the bleeding had stopped he put on his favorite turtleneck. He walked down the stairs, and there Arthur was, mopping the laminated floor. He didn't even look up at Merlin, and Merlin scoffed quietly and approached him. Endorphins high and attitude out of check, he was ready to rip Arthur a new one.
"Why won't you spend time with me?" Merlin asked, all a little too directly.
Arthur sighed and looked up at Merlin. This was the first time they had made eye contact in weeks, and Arthur couldn't help but notice the flare in Merlin's eyes. He wanted nothing more than to say "I do, I do," and pull him into a kiss, to glide his tongue between those rosy red lips, to run his finger tips along the bare skin of Merlin's back—but that was a fantasy, and a destructive one at that. Arthur gave Merlin a "whatever" look and walked away, taking his bucket and mop with him.
"You told me that if I ever needed someone to talk to that you'd be there!" Merlin yelled after him, and Arthur stopped dead in his tracks, the words ringing hard and loud in his ears, resonating within his heart. His eyes watered up and he turned around, a tear caressing his cheek, dodging his stubble before falling from his face.
"I truly am sorry..." he said, and then he walked away, leaving Merlin even more broken and confused than before.
Arthur knelt down on one knee, messing up his royal clothes against the dirt floor. Merlin looked down at him in awe and started to blush, what was Arthur doing? He watched the King reach into his back pocket and pull out something shiny. Merlin's heart started to flutter in anticipation, was he going to ask him to –
"Will you, Merlin, be my lawfully wedded Husband?" Arthur asked. Merlin gasped as Arthur took his hand and slid a golden ring on it, a pagan band of purity, of sacrifice, of love.
Merlin grinned from ear to ear and replied the only way he knew how. "Only if you promise to stop being a clotpole."
Arthur laughed and stood up, pulling Merlin close to his face and bringing him into a sweet and tender kiss. The crowd around the roared and cheered, the spring wind on their faces, their souls passionately engaged in a kiss, the crowd rumbling with the support of their families. Merlin couldn't help but cry.
Arthur sat up in his bed. It was the third night he had the same dream, the same place, the same people. Each time, he kissed Merlin, and each time, he felt complete. He looked out of the window over his bed. The moonlight was familiar; it always seemed to be in the same place in the sky when he woke up, providing solidarity his best friend—his only friend. His father and mother were so busy cooking and cleaning that he couldn't ever talk to them. He felt his heart sink.
Maybe he could be friends with Merlin. Maybe he could be happy being friends.
Merlin rustled in his sleep. It was the third night that he had the same dream, the same people, the same place. Each time, he felt pure and happy as Arthur slid the ring on his finger, as Arthur slid his lips against his. Merlin looked towards the door to his bathroom, he wanted the case, he needed it again, but he thought long and hard. Maybe this time, maybe he could work though it. Arthur wanted nothing to do with him, and he just had to accept it.
Merlin laid back down into his bed and sighed, wishing for a better tomorrow.
Merlin woke to his phone ringing. It was Gaius. He answered it sleepily. "Gaius, it's like 6AM, what do you want?"
"This isn't Gaius."
Merlin eyes shot open. He knew that voice. He'd recognize it anywhere. "We want every fucking cent you have."
"What do you want?" Merlin asked panicked. He sat up in his bed, distraught and confused. "Where is Gaius?"
"Meet me outside of your house at midnight in three days and I promise I won't kill him. Don't be late, Emrys. I'd have to have to gut the fat old fucker."
Merlin heard the phone click on the other end. He looked down in his lap and tried to calm down, but his magic rippled and arced along his body, flowing in and out of him and the world around him. There was a decisive moment, so sudden and profound that he felt calm, and peaceful. Merlin's eyes opened, glazed with white and silver, and he felt the magic of the Old Religion soar through him.
It was time.