'God damn it!' Arthur yelled, kicking a metal bin and sending its contents flying out across the pavement. Merlin's ears protested at the loud noise of the metal clanging down on the hard ground. He stepped out from Ambrosia and into the brisk morning air. His eye lids were heavy and his body ached from the lack of sleep but he shook it off and ambled towards Arthur.
'I think that counts as damaging government property. I could report you,' Merlin said lightly, but at the look of weary anger in Arthur's eyes he left vague humour for another time. 'Look, we're still further than we were. It'll be fine. We can and we will figure this out.'
'I'm taking him in,' Arthur said, staring out down the street. Ignoring him.
'Who?'
Spinning around he marched pass Merlin. 'Cenred.'
Merlin had to jog to keep up with Arthur's impossibly determined and quick pace. He even felt slight pity for Cenred who was being dragged along with the DS, hands cuffed and wearing a stupidly bemused expression. They entered their floor and Merlin saw the entire team there, discussing and researching. Checking his watch he swallowed the shock at the electronic six and more stunning 'a.m.' that shone back at him. Some PCs were left to deal with the people at Ambrosia while he and Arthur took Cenred in.
'Where the hell have you two been?' Gaius demanded, hurrying towards them. His aged face seemed even older, but his eyes were glittering with knowledge.
'Not now, Gaius,' Arthur said and went straight to an interview room, throwing Cenred inside and following behind.
Merlin was going to join them when Gaius touched his arm and held him back. 'Merlin, the second victim is different.'
He could see the weight on Gaius' shoulders, the concern in his eyes. His stomach twisted but he still asked, 'How?'
'He left a note,' he said while he dipped a hand into his lab coat's pocket and presented a receipt sealed in an evidence bag. Merlin took it and then saw what was so disconcerting. It was from Ambrosia's bar and on the back was a mobile number. Gaius no doubt realised it could well be the number of the killer which could help lead them to Morgause. It was so much worse though. He knew the number well. Mordred had read it out to him just before kissing him as he left after the party. Mordred's voice recited it to Merlin as he read it for himself on the receipt.
'Merlin!' Arthur beckoned, poking his head out from the interview room. 'Get this bastard's file from my desk!'
Gaius lifted a gray eyebrow skeptically when Merlin quickly tucked the bag into his jacket's pocket. 'Don't tell anyone about this, please? I'll handle it.'
'I trust your judgement,' he said quietly while watching Merlin with those concerned eyes. Pressing his lips together to feign thanks Merlin left.
He saw the folder laying next to the keyboard on Arthur's desk with no problem. It was the only thing arguably neat on the desk. Everything else was disorganised and Merlin couldn't even think how Arthur found things. Picking it up he was about to head to the room when he saw the photograph. Framed and sitting next to the computer screen. Merlin's heart thumped rapidly.
A smiling Arthur with Uther's arm around his shoulders. On the other side, Morgana looking equally content and her father's arm around her shoulders as well. He blinked hard and looked again. The shade and the texture. It was difficult to be one hundred percent sure, but Merlin knew the jacket Morgana was wearing.
Dread stirred in his chest and he hurried to the interview room with the file. Once he closed the door he kept to the side with wide eyes.
'Your club is the common denominator in these murders,' Arthur shouted at Cenred, knuckles against the table as he leaned toward to the sleazy club owner. Merlin could see a sky on fire in Arthur's eyes. The blue was worn through and fraying, burning at the edges.
'I can't help it if I'm popular, now can I?'
'This isn't a joke!' Arthur yelled, fist coming down on the table. 'I would like nothing better than to see you rot away in a cell for the rest of your life.'
'You need to practice your sweet talk, detective,' Cenred sneered. Arthur shifted to the other side of the table with impressive speed and he kicked the back legs of the chair. Cenred hit the ground.
'That's enough!' Merlin leaped between the two and grabbed the DS by his arm. Arthur's muscles were tensed, buzzing with violent energy. 'Come on.'
'Merlin, let go of me,' he warned, resisting his hold.
'Trust me when I say you'll thank me later,' Merlin snapped and dragged him out, the warmth pumping in his veins again. He managed to get him out of the room but Arthur forced himself free.
'Merlin!' he growled and shoved him. An arm on his chest pinned Merlin against the wall. 'What the hell do you think you're doing?'
'Trying to keep you from being such a royal prat,' Merlin said wrapping his hand around Arthur's wrist, willing the warmth that gave him fleeting reassurance to do the same now for Arthur. 'We are both sleep deprived and fed up. We'll keep him in a cell for the day, but you'll get nothing out of Cenred in the state you're in. This isn't you.'
Arthur's taught features softened.
'Arthur,' Leon interrupted. He pulled away from Merlin, eyes dropping down to his feet before returning to stare at Merlin. There was a hardness in them still, but they weren't wild like before. 'It's DCS Pendragon.'
Arthur swore under his breath and left to answer the call from his desk. Morgana had been observing the scene but when Merlin saw her she returned to reading some papers with Percy.
Leon didn't move away. 'You two okay?
'Yeah,' Merlin said breathlessly. 'Lock Cenred up, will you?'
'Yes, sir,' Leon said with a solemn grin. He took out his mobile and rang up a guard to come ensure Cenred didn't try anything. Once he'd organised it, Arthur was trudging back.
'I can't . . .' he began, irritation cutting off anymore words.
'What is it?' Merlin asked.
'The Met's Annual Conference,' Arthur told him, spitting out each word.
'He didn't,' Leon said sympathetically.
'He didn't what?' Merlin asked, floundering with confusion.
'Oh, he did,' Arthur said, rolling his shoulders and letting out a long sigh. 'In the middle of a murder investigation and he thinks it's acceptable to . . .'
When he didn't continue, Leon picked up the conversation and explained, 'Every year around christmas the Met hosts a conference. Awards, music, it's basically a glorified party.'
'Christmas,' Merlin murmured to himself, a sharp pang of surprise at how he'd forgotten. He'd forgotten.
Leon turned back to Arthur who was still battling with his emotions. 'Can't you refuse?'
'You know my father,' he said with defeat. 'Morgana, how's Mordred?'
She elegantly made her way to them, leaving Percy with the papers. 'He'll be just fine, but will probably be on leave for the next week or two.'
'Understandably,' Leon remarked. 'I'll go put him in the dungeon then.'
Merlin's lips twitched and after Leon left he asked, 'When's the conference?'
'Next Friday,' Arthur replied, slowly calming down.
'That's six days from now,' he realised.
'Brilliant, Merlin! With deductions skills like that I can't believe Her Majesty's Intelligence Service hasn't snatched you up yet.'
Merlin stared at Arthur perplexed. 'Really?'
'Yep, it really is quite impressive.'
'Thanks, I mean- You're joking,' Merlin said and the pride was squelched.
'You're such a dolt,' Arthur huffed and strode off. He couldn't help but let a tiny smile spread. Arthur was explosive and irritable but still just as high and mighty as he'd always been. For the few days Merlin had known him, that is. Morgana caught his eye. Whispering into a phone and turned away from everyone. He went over to her, the suspicion and unnerving sensation beating with a heart of its own.
'I'll call you back,' she finished quickly and hung up. 'I'm sorry about Mordred.'
'It wasn't you who killed that man,' Merlin said, the irony in his words stinging. 'I wanted to ask you about a jacket.'
She sat on the edge of her desk and folded over a leg. 'Jacket?'
'In the picture on Arthur's desk. You're wearing a red one. Just wondering what brand.'
'Merlin, I could never have guessed,' she said softly and with mocking surprise. 'You're a cross dresser?'
He gritted his teeth and gave a tight chuckle. 'I'm sure you won't mind accommodating my interests?'
'Shotgun. It's a Pritch London design. I wear only the best. I don't think they have your size, though,' Morgana answered, her cruel lips curling slightly. Merlin left all doubt behind. Looking at her with the facts and his instincts he knew it was her. Morgause hadn't killed Charlotte. Morgana had.
He leaned in toward her. 'If you're a part of this somehow, I will find out. I will stop you.'
'What are you talk about?' she asked with an amused chuckle. 'You and Arthur should both get some rest.'
'I'm not kidding, Morgana,' he hissed, low enough that only she could hear him.
'I don't scare that easily,' she taunted, her charming look snapping into a hostile one. 'Take care of yourself, Merlin.'
Leaping to her feet she walked away, every movement deadly and predatory. Merlin's spine was rigid and jaw clenched. When he gave another look at the receipt the clinging worry and suspicion returned. Morgana was the enemy. Was Mordred one too? The thought left him feeling sick.
Two days since he'd seen Mordred. Two days since he'd confirmed his fears about Morgana. Two days since Arthur had changed. Lying on the sofa, feet hanging off the edge, Merlin stared at his phone. Thumb circling the call button he recalled Mordred's distraught state. Heart steeled from an impossibly amount of empathy and anxiety he set his mind on pressing it. There was a knock at his door.
Pulling it open he revealed, inch by inch, the lean stature of the charming Irish-man. 'Gwaine?'
'Sorry to just show up like this,' he began, a strange gravity in his expression, as he waltzed pass Merlin and into the living room. 'In this whole mess I've found I trust you. Probably a bad move on my part but you're cute so I'll go along with it.'
'What do you mean?' Merlin asked, closing the door and facing him with crossed arms.
'We're being targeted,' Gwaine said flatly. 'Trust me. It's genuinely as dramatic as it sounds.'
'Come again?'
'That day I couldn't watch the tapes? Percy's brother was being stalked,' he explained, twisting a leather bracelet on his left wrist.
'Percy has a brother,' Merlin noted, but the one odd fact left much to be desired. 'Wait, what?'
'It gets worse. We went to help. Did you know he lives in Surrey of all places? The thing is . . . Yesterday? He got hospitalised; left in the middle of a street with the weapon right next to him.'
Merlin felt his heart thump. 'Christ.'
'A stone. With a spiral painted on it,' Gwaine added, waiting for Merlin's response.
'Old Religion,' he surmised darkly. 'A threat?'
'Best guess.'
'This is . . .'
'The bigger issue is how they found him in the first place.'
'You're going to have to explain.'
'Percy's brother was put into witness protection over five years ago.'
'If they found him they must know Percy,' Merlin guessed, but Gwaine shook his head.
'Actually, no. We were contacted with his current identity because someone though we'd be the best to handle the situation.'
'So, who knew?'
'The higher ups.'
'Are you saying they're in the government? That's a bit far fetched,' he scoffed. The disbelief he felt was only challenged by the growing well of fear.
'I'm saying they managed to get a hold of such highly guarded information without setting off any alarms. We've underestimated them.'
'Not good.'
'Such a way with words, Merlin,' he remarked and there was a small inkling of a smile pushing at his lips.
'What do we do?' he asked, lost in the unsettling news. 'Does Arthur know?'
'He's got enough on his plate-'
'Gwaine, he needs to know,' Merlin asserted.
'You'll have to tell him. His battery's been running low and I don't want to be the one who pushes him over the edge.'
'Okay,' he said. 'What do we do, though?'
'Stop Old Religion. Only now we have even more incentive and we'll need to protect anyone close to us,'
'Do you have anyone-'
'No. Yourself?'
'My mother. She's miles away from London though.'
'I'd give her a call. Warn her.'
'I don't want to scare her,' he said quietly, in his mind her soft face bloomed and he refused to tarnish that goodness. He wouldn't risk losing one of the kindest people he knew. He couldn't.
'Rather you than someone knocking at the door and torturing her. Who knows what they've got planned.' Gwaine reasoned grimly.
'Right,' he murmured. 'Have you told the others?'
'Discreetly, yes. Just not Arthur.'
'I'll make us some tea,' Merlin said after a pause of contemplation.
'British to the bone, eh?' Gwaine joked and sank down onto the sofa. His normally lively atmosphere had dampened severely.
They discussed ideas of how to handle the new situation, and then about what motives Old Religion could have. Throughout it Merlin couldn't rid himself of one question. It scratched at him until he, after conversation had taken a short break, presented it to Gwaine: 'How much do you know about Morgana?'
'She's Arthur's sister. Hot. Scary. Good at her job,' he listed without hesitation. 'Why?'
'Promise you'll take me seriously?'
'Cross my heart,' Gwaine said and motioned with a finger over his chest.
'She might be involved with the Old Religion,' he said and paused with worry as to Gwaine's reaction. The man looked open an understanding, so he babbled on: 'The fabric I found at Regis House is a match for one of her jackets. I also get these gut feelings. From the second I met her I've felt nothing but bad things. Talking to her about it was short lived and I'm pretty sure she threatened me.'
'How long have you thought this?'
'Two days, maybe.'
'And she threatened you?'
'I think so.'
'Life certainly has gotten more interesting since you showed up,' Gwaine said with a twisted chuckle. 'I expect you'll be needing my help?'
'I just needed someone else to know. Another opinion. You don't need to help me, even if you did I'm not sure what I could even need help with-'
'Think of it as a favour, then,' Gwaine cut him off, giving him a warm and disarming grin. 'I'll look into her.'
'Do you think she could be as well? Involved with Old Religion?'
Gwaine's brows pushed together in thought. 'You said you had evidence. That's all I need.'
'I'm going to talk to her again,' Merlin concluded.
'Are you sure that's the best idea?'
'Maybe there's something behind all this. An explanation. Something. Do you have her number?'
'You want the number of a woman you think's involved in murder and a serial killer group?'
'Yes.'
'You're crazy,' Gwaine said.
Merlin smiled sombrely. 'Probably.'