Thanks to NineMagicalWords for the comment. :) I can't wait until Merlin comes into the story either, and when he does there's going to be a slight twist with his character. At first I was going to give it away in the description, but I decided to make it a surprise. I know, I'm so kind! If anyone can guess what it is, then they're awesome and they need to stop reading my mind.
Arthur wasn't aware of anything but the machine that beeped in sync with his heart beat. As he became more conscious , he furrowed his eyebrows and tried to force his tangled mind to give him answers. What was that beeping noise? And why did his fingertips feel like they were pressed against a hot stove?
The fire. Oh god, the fire.
He almost didn't want to open his eyes and face whatever was coming next. He could give an incredible speech in front of thousands of people without batting an eyelash, but the thought of seeing the damage the fire had done to his body sent intense spikes of fear down his spine. Unfortunately, it also sped up his heartbeat and the obnoxious machine that was monitoring it. He wanted to rip the annoying machine from the wall as it beeped faster and faster and exposed his fear.
He was Arthur Pendragon. He wasn't supposed to be afraid of anything.
"Arthur? Are you awake?" Morgana croaked in a gentle and slightly trembling voice.
Reluctantly, Arthur pried open his eyes and looked up at his sister. She looked terrible. Her red eyes were filled with tears that glided down her already poofy face. Her black hair was a dull and tangled mess, and she was wearing sweats and a random t-shirt-clothes that she normally wouldn't be seen dead in. Almost instantly she ran forward and cried into her brother's shoulder, her hands tightly gripping his hospital robe.
"Oh, god. Arthur." The pure, unfiltered sorrow in her voice broke his heart and brought back his fear.
"What's wrong, Gana?"
His fear level rose even higher when her sobs escalated and he was left without an answer. He'd never seen his sister this devastated before. She had an excellent poker face, but something had broken it into a million pieces. The kind of heartbreak she was displaying was more than being sad over missed belongings and a destroyed home.
"Is dad alright?" The words didn't want to escape from his mouth, but he forced them out of his dry throat.
After a few terrifying seconds, she managed to gather herself enough to pull away from him and look into his frightened eyes.
"Yes, he's fine. I'm sorry if I worried you."
"Then what's wrong? Besides this hospital gown, that is," he joked, hoping that the sound of his sister's laugh would help him escape the anxiety that was trying to suffocate him as the pain in his fingertips began to register more in his mind and his right palm tingled dramatically.
The laugh was forced and strangled, nothing like what he had been hoping for.
"Arthur, you were burned in the fire," she told him reluctantly, grabbing a tissue and wiping her salty eyes. Her words let the anxiety completely lose to torture him. Before those words had been said, he could pretend that he just wasn't remembering correctly. He could make believe that he was completely fine, that the fire had never touched him and he had simply passed out from smoke inhalation or something.
Remembering the horrible pain on the right side of his face, his fingers reached up on their own accord. Instead of the dramatic feeling of burnt flesh that he had expected, they met soft bandages protecting his skin.
"They put bandages on it so it wouldn't get infected," Morgana sniffled.
"How bad is it?" He asked quietly, not sure if he wanted to hear the answer.
Her mouth opened and closed numerous times, not sure how she should go about telling him even more bad news.
"I haven't seen it in person, but in the picture it looked...really bad," she stared at her fingers, ignoring his confused gaze.
"Picture?"
"You should rest, Arthur. You don't need anymore stress," she said, gazing at him sympathetically. Her eyes begged him not to question her any further.
"I need to know. I'll stress much more if I have no idea what's going on!" he shouted, cringing at the loud volume of his voice. Forcing himself to be quieter, he whispered, "Sorry. I just need to know."
Morgana sighed, seeming utterly torn. After some contemplation, she hesitantly began speaking. "While you were passed out, someone took a picture of your face and sold it to a news company," she paused at his sharp intake of breath, but continued talking when her brother remained silent. "Uther's freaking out, screaming at the all of the hospital workers and demanding they find whoever was responsible."
"Great, I bet the media is having a field day with this one," he groaned, slamming the back of his head against the hospital bed and wishing it was something harder.
"They were walking around in the hall, trying to get comments from people. They even took a picture of me looking this horrible, if it makes you feel any better."
"Actually, it does," he chuckled, imagining the gasps of horror that would result when people saw for the first time what the flawless model Morgana looked like after a good cry.
Her eyes shot him with a cruel glare, but soon she was chuckling as well. For a few seconds they laughed together, until a nurse walked in and Arthur remembered how horrible his life was. The woman rubbed a hand over her dark tired eyes. They slightly widened with the realization that she was being watched with not one, but two sets of eyes.
"You're awake," she said with a surprised tone, looking down at her chart. "I'm Gwen," she kindly shook Morgana's hand and turned to Arthur, giving him a small wave to avoid causing his hand pain "I'll be taking care of your burns. Your father has arranged for you to be cared for at home to prevent anymore incidents, but it will still be a little while before you're discharged. Is there anything that you need?"
"No, thank you," he mumbled, staring at the floor and looking depressed.
"Alright. If you change your mind just let me know," she smiled.
"She's awful cheerful," Morgana commented, rolling her eyes.
Arthur didn't reply. His head was spinning as everything that happened rapidly raced through his mind. What exactly had everyone seen when they turned on the news? He needed to see how badly his once beautiful face had been damaged.
"I want to see the picture."
"Are you sure that's a good idea?" she questioned. The look of determination in his eyes was all that she needed before she pulled up the troublesome picture on her phone. Her eyes widened slightly, and she hoped that Arthur didn't notice. It looked even worse every time she saw it. Slowly, she held it out for him to see. He ripped the phone from her grip, bringing the screen closer to satisfy his curiosity.
It was horrible. Absolutely, completely terrible. Sickening. He didn't want to look at it anymore, but his eyes were stuck on the image and refused to move. The blackened, burnt, disgusting flesh covered his entire right cheek and spread up to cover a bit more than half of his forehead and a small portion of his nose, somehow leaving his right eye untouched. He couldn't help thinking that this was fate's way of screwing him over. Not only did it completely disfigure the right side of his face, it left his eyes and vision unharmed so he would have to look at himself in the mirror everyday.
"Holy shit," he numbly dropped the cellphone on the bed and stared hopelessly at the ceiling. Tear gathered at the corner of his eyes, tears that he desperately didn't want to cry. It was all too much. It was too fucking much.