**Warning, there's attempted non-con in this chapter but if that's really not your scene then don't worry cause nothing comes of it and it's a two-fold thing, so there's another part to it to focus on - do not fear**

Six days later and he heard the lock to his cell unlatch.
'You're free to go, Emrys,' the guard grumbled. Tentatively Merlin stood and rolled his shoulders, stiff from having to sleep on the less than comfortable bed for the past few nights.
'What's changed?'
'Didn't they tell you?'
'Tell me what?'
'DCS Agravaine spoke to the judge personally. Vouched for you alongside Kilgharrah and that old scientist,' the guard said with admiration.
'Oh. So, they don't know who actually did it? Killed Uther?'
'Not yet. Now can you get out? I have better things to be doing than chatting with you,' he said sharply.
'Jeez, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed,' Merlin remarked giving the guard a good long look of derision before walking out and heading to collect his things.
Merlin took his first steps in fresh air in too long. Stretching up he let the wind ruffle his hair before zipping up his jacket and heading to his flat. While he sat on the tube train he checked his mobile. Gwaine had sent several texts, telling how he didn't believe anything they were saying and how the case was going. Gwen had sent him some too, that very same morning in fact.
Morgana's in hospital but she's dropped any charges against you. Everyone thinks you only attacked her cause you thought she was the killer. It'll all be fine, Merlin.
A few of the others had sent him messages, including the landlord and he cringed. Needed to sort that out when he got back. There was a cold feeling in his chest though. Aside from worry about press and more substantial fear about Morgana, he hadn't heard from Arthur. At all. Not since he'd been dragged away in cuffs.
Running up the stairs of his building he mulled over his situation. Having nothing to do he was left with his mind and Merlin had made a few plans. Number one on the agenda was expose Morgana. Second to that help her, if he could. Third, figure out Arthur. Fourth, Mordred. That in itself left his limbs feeling light with anxiety. Entwining with everything was stopping Old Religion, but that was easier said than done.
Pulling out his key, relishing the familiar and secure way it felt to be in his hand again, he slotted it into the lock and opened his flat's door. Inside stood Mordred, wearing his normal dark skinny jeans and an equally dark t-shirt.
'Merry Christmas,' the man said, a gentle smile tugging at his mouth. Then it hit Merlin again. Christmas.
'Is that today?'
Mordred scoffed, the grin breaking out 'Yeah. It is.'
'Time flies. Are you okay?'
'Yeah, yeah. I'm great. As great as I can be, anyway. Yourself?'
'Don't know yet,' Merlin said softly, taking off his shoes. Looking up at Mordred he could almost taste the frothy foam of the crashing waves. The storm seemed more violent, and yet more vibrant and alluring. 'I'm glad you're here.'
'I've missed you.'
That was all it took. Merlin pressed his lips against Mordred's, letting that strange darkness trickle into him bit by bit. The aggressive clash and battle of emotions and sensations inside him were a perfect distraction from Arthur's cold eyes and the murder and blood and death. Not ideal, he had to admit it, but it worked just as well as anything else. So, Merlin kissed Mordred with all he had and no sooner had he let out a moan they were clawing off their clothes heading to his bedroom.
Mordred gently pushed him down onto the fluffy duvet and welcoming mattress, lips now leaving Merlin's mouth in favour of his jaw line, then neck, then collar bone. Each touch made the warmth inside him coil with a terror drowned out by ecstasy. Mordred only halted his onslaught midway down Merlin's chest to look up with a glint in his eye.
'What is your gut feeling telling you right now?' he asked.
'Um, I - I don't know,' Merlin stammered, head foggy with lust. He concentrated, but there was nothing. If anything the lack of anything left him slightly disconcerted. 'Nothing.'
'Good,' Mordred whispered and returned his attention to Merlin's pale skin.
'Why?' Merlin managed to question, propping himself up on his elbows to look down at Mordred who was now leaving a trail of kissed leading down to his jeans.
'Just wondering,' Mordred muttered, and his eyes met Merlin's. He could see the storm. Now it flashed with a threatening lightning and the waves were in turmoil, not thrashing with their normal emotions and strength. The waters were infected, dirty, diseased. His gut said nothing. The warmth, however, was coiling and writhing in disagreement. Undoing the first button of his trousers Mordred left back to Merlin's mouth and they both shuffled onto the bed, lips locked and touching the entire time. Merlin tried to ignore the concern that kept poking him, but it was getting painful.
'Mordred,' he breathed, the other man laying on top of him, hands running along his bare skin wherever they could.
'Hm?'
'I think we should-'
He was cut off by Mordred's mouth smothering his own, his hips grinding down on Merlin's. It sent sparks of arousal through him but the warmth was getting strangely cold in his chest and he decided to push against Mordred. It wouldn't be enjoyable with the growing iciness.
'Stop,' Merlin said into the kiss, the start of panic hooked on each sound he made. The warmth was leaving his limbs, no longer complaining about his actions. The unresponsiveness made his stomach twist. Mordred chose to ignore him and plunged his tongue deeper into Merlin's mouth. Invading. His hands, which had been so lovingly adoring every part of Merlin, now locked around his wrists and pushed them down above his head, fingers digging into his skin. The knife of fear suddenly sliced into him, through every vein it could reach and his heart thudded.
Mordred noticed his sounds of struggle, how Merlin was twisting against Mordred's hands and the weight of his body. His struggling became more desperate and that's when he felt the pain branch out from his nose, head whipped to the side with the force of the punch. 'Shhh.'
Merlin stifled out a few syllables, 'What are-'
It felt like a hand reaching into his throat and tearing out any voice he had. No more words made it out. He tried but failed to scream, to shout anything. Mordred was sniggering, straddling his hips. Clearly he saw the look of absolute horror on Merlin's face because he swallowed his laughter, but the sick smile remained.
'Sorry. For laughing, I mean. That was kinda rude,' he explained and Merlin wanted to run, to fight back, but his limbs were dead around him. Frozen. 'Oh, I forgot you can't respond. This is the first time I've done this. Don't worry, Mer. You won't be like the others. They just killed them. Cold hearted, don't you think? No, you'll be different. I'll have you, in every sense of the term. You'll be mine for just a little while and I'll be yours too, of course. Then, I'll kill you. What you feel now is just the start. It gets so much better.'
Merlin's chest was tight and he couldn't breathe, eyes welling up with tears. Mordred leaned down close again, his breath burning his skin and mouth attacking his. His teeth bit and bruised Merlin's lips while he pulled off his trousers. Mordred's scent surrounded him and violated his nose, leaving every sense consumed by the deadly and drowning waters he'd once found solace in. A dull ache took up residence in his chest and the hot tears spilled out of his eyes, running down to his ears, their paths cooling with the air. The blood oozed from his nose.
Mordred's tongue, lips, and hands pressed against his shivering body. The touches were rough, but then there was a gentleness in the lips. It made it worse. To feel that care which couldn't be real.
Merlin thought about looking away. Shutting his eyes and trying to pretend he wasn't there. He couldn't do it. It was happening. To him. It was Mordred. Old Religion. In his bedroom, in his bed, having just kissed him and loved him. Now this. A new pain lanced in his throat, joined by piercing explosions in his mind.

Arthur stared at the open door, mildly confused. He was holding a box covered up in some ridiculous wrapping paper he'd found in a closet. He even had a card. When Gwen had told him that Merlin was out he didn't waste a second getting the present and getting to Merlin's flat. Their time together in his living room haunted practically everything he did and even if he did like Mordred, Arthur wasn't going to let his own strange jealousy get in the way. Merlin was intriguing and handsome and the one thing with hope at the moment. The case left him feeling tired and scared. They pushed for answers but nothing had come of it and today someone's life was hanging by the fine thread of fate. DCS Agravaine had ordered he take Christmas Day off, by means of a personal messenger, and aside from pursuing answers Gwen had pushed him to visit Merlin just once.
Now he stood staring into Merlin's flat. He knocked and waited for an answer but none came.
'Merlin?' he called and stepped inside. Everything he saw revealed something of Merlin to him. It felt intimate just being in his home, from the sporadically coloured tiles of the kitchen wall to the books and papers strewn on table and ground alike in the living room. 'Anyone here?'
There was a loud bang. Arthur felt his muscles tense in readiness for whatever it was and carefully put the present and card down next to the sofa. He headed to where the noise came from and in the corridor he saw a closed door. Walking to it he tried the handle. It didn't budge. Pressing his ear flat against the wood he listened but couldn't hear anything.
'Merlin?' he tried one last time but the only reply was eerie silence. The suspicion crashed into him and he gritted his teeth, ramming the door with his shoulder. Several failed attempts and he stepped back. Looking at the white paint he could feel how wrong it was. The wrong locked inside with Merlin. Channelling all his strength he kicked the door and it gave way with splintering wood.
His mouth hung open with momentary shock. Mordred was tugging down Merlin's trousers, which in itself strangled all shock and left irritation, fury and sorrow all colliding in its place. Then he saw how Merlin wasn't moving. Not making a sound. He couldn't even see his chest falling or rising. Blood staining his face. The glimmer of wet tears in his motionless eyes. In a manner of seconds he'd forced himself to take in the painful sight, but in the last moment he saw what left a raging hurricane in his mind and soul. The beginning's of a bloody spiral on Merlin's throat.
He didn't even register grabbing Mordred by the back of the neck, throwing him off of Merlin and onto the ground. The man was back to his feet and sending a fist in Arthur's direction but he jabbed into Mordred's chest and rammed his own balled hand up and into his jaw. Mordred stumbled backwards and Arthur didn't waste time, sending him flying backwards with a kick into his bare chest.
'Reverse it!' he screamed at the monster but Mordred only chuckled, standing up and clutching his wounded rib.
'Too late,' was all Mordred said and then he ran. Arthur began to chase after him but stopped in the doorway to look back at Merlin. It wasn't worth it. Falling onto the bed at Merlin's side he shook his shoulders.
'Merlin, are you with me? Merlin, snap out of it,' Arthur pleaded, the cruel finger of irony twisting into his mind. The person's who life now waited in the balance was Merlin's. Of all people, why did it have to be him? He pressed his hand against Merlin's cheek and his face contorted with horror at how cold he felt. Glancing at the spiral he saw how it was no longer growing, only a few of the curves having etched themselves into his skin. Pulling out his mobile he rang for an ambulance.
Arthur silently dressed Merlin, feeling the searing fury in his heart when he had to lift his limp body to pull on the shirt. Grabbing a cloth from the kitchen and wetting it, he returned to clean the blood from his nose. Sickly pale and unresponsive, Arthur waited at his side for the paramedics.
'I don't know what to do,' he whispered brokenly while he stared into Merlin's clouded blue eyes. 'You really have the worst luck of anyone I've ever met.'
He took Merlin's hand and held it in his own, wanting the man to take some of his heat. His fingers were lax and so Arthur tightened his own, wrapping them securely around Merlin's palm. The sirens wailed softly in the distance, growing louder as they approached. The suffocating silence was finally shattered by the paramedics bursting into the flat. Arthur forced himself to let Merlin go and kept out of the way while the professionals did their job. They lifted Merlin onto a stretcher and positioned an oxygen mask over his mouth and nose after checking his pulse and breathing. Barely registering Arthur's presence he felt himself slip into a trance. Up against the wall he looked at what was happening. It was unreal. Impossible.
'Would you like to ride with him to the hospital?' a medic asked while they carried Merlin out. Arthur nodded without hesitation. Outside people were watching them with curiosity, the sky was getting darker with heavy clouds. They hoisted Merlin into the back of the ambulance while Arthur climbed into the front seat. In one or two minutes the sirens were blaring again and the ambulance navigated the streets to the nearest hospital.