Smoke.

Cool magic soothed his limbs as they walked. Not his. Merlin? A crutch for his body as he floated off with the warlock into the gap between two buildings. Out of sight. Leaning against the brick Mordred wanted to sink to the ground. Glass buried in his side and back caught on nerves, muscle fibres. He wanted to close his eyes. Breathe. Not breathe.

Mangled sounds flowed from Merlin's lips, piercing his left ear while his right kept the world muffled and away. His burning hand was enveloped by Merlin's, the liquid gold flooding his eyes, chasing away the stars behind the dark rims. Mordred stared, dazed. They filled with plumes of smoke, with the fear, and Merlin's face twitched, flinching. The burning cooled, drifted away. Then the muffled world was strung through a filter, each passing second leaving it clearer and comprehensible. The blood rushing in his ear calmed. Slowed.

Sounds, awareness, crashed into him and for a second he forgot how to breathe.

Merlin brushed his face. 'Better?'

He nodded, stomach lurching when they rushed through London. People and buildings blurred until they stopped, standing in his hotel room. The firm and soft hold Merlin had on him left once he was lying on the bed.

'Thank you,' Mordred said, tongue dry and throat scratchy. Smoke, hot air, had left another mark. Merlin hovered next to him, the gold dying away, his face pinched with whatever he'd taken away from Mordred.

The harsh metallic ring of the phone pierced the silence. His gut squirmed with realisation. Control the people with power, you have the power. Fake a terrorist attack? Distract, bring them out of hiding, strike. All the pieces had been there and he hadn't put it together.

'My fault,' he croaked out, propping himself up on his elbows. Merlin's fingers brushed his throat instinctively, the last sign of the explosion wiped from his body.

'What is?'

'It's my fault. The bomb.'

'Bomb? How do you know-'

'It's why I'm here. Met Intelligence. Old Religion,' he explained, giving Merlin the last morsels of anything he'd kept secret. 'They told me their plan. It's probably happening right now.'

'You're a spy? Morgana's-'

'Not her. The only thing she cares about is making things balanced. Equal. There's no time-'

Mordred made to get up but Merlin pushed him back down. It was rough. Final. Controlling.

'There's no time,' he said again but Merlin covered his mouth with his own, drowning all words, and time fell away. Hot. Wet. Sweet. Familiar but new. Hands slid around his neck, gently, as Merlin climbed over him. His eyes finally closed as they shared breaths. It eased him back into their time together before Morgana destroyed it all, and then eased him into something deeper, sweeter.

'Mordred,' he said when he pulled away, their noses touching. 'You could have died, and all you want to talk about is Old Religion? You could have died.'

'I didn't, and I thought,' Mordred began, words sticking in his throat. He had to question it though. Question Merlin's state of mind, so focused and hurt and confused. 'You and Arthur.'

'This . . . It's different. Not like that,' he said, hand running over Mordred's collarbone to rest on his chest, above the ink. 'The magic, this connection. I don't get it, but I need it. No one else understands what all of this is like.'

Merlin's words plucked at his thoughts. He did understand. Felt it in their magic which wrapped them together on the bed. Merlin had shown him everything a week ago. He'd shown Merlin everything in turn. They understood each other. Helped each other. The warlock groaned, head falling forwards onto the pillow next to Mordred.

A moment passed before he lifted it again. 'Can I just kiss you? I've been feeling like shit and kissing you feels nicer. No complications.'

'What happened at Christmas-'

'You're not him. I'm not that Merlin either, okay? Cut the ties, be stronger, remember?'

'Okay.'

Merlin lowered his mouth again, and Mordred let him. It was warm, earnest. Magical. No facade, no act, just his regrets and his loves matched with the other man's. His hands ran up Merlin's waist, back, arms, each touch met with muscle and bone through cloth, hard and honed.

Merlin's fingers tugged at his curls, the small pain jogging his mind out of the reverie.

He couldn't. The fear still squeezed inside his chest, the ink over his heart burning. Reminding him. Exhale. Inhale. Merlin's breath became his and then he released it, gently pushed him away.

The heavy brows pushed together, starry eyes dark like the night sky. 'What is it?'

'I can't,' he said. 'I am him. I will always be him. You can't escape the past, Merlin. You understand?'

'No,' Merlin replied and sat up to straddle his hips. 'I don't. This is good. It's just kissing, Mordred. You almost died, and I-'

'What? You what?' he challenged, but there was no bite in his words. 'You're confused.'

'You think you know my mind?'

'I know it better than most. We have a connection, remember?'

'Exactly.'

'You're wrong, okay? This? This isn't good. It can't be,' he said, rising to close the gap between them. His fingers traced the arch of Merlin's eyebrow, trailing down to the hollow of his cheek, the curve of his jaw. 'Not now anyway. I love you, but I'm not ready. Don't think you are either.'

Merlin leaned into his hand. 'Mordred. You're the only one-'

'Hey, you said it yourself,' he cut in, nose touching Merlin's. 'It's just kissing.'

'I suppose.'

Mordred closed his eyes, wrapped himself in Merlin's warmth, felt their hearts beat to the thrumming tune of the magic tied between them. He let it go. 'We really need to leave.'

Mordred stood up after Merlin climbed off to stand beside him.

'I'm sorry,' Merlin said, voice low and personal. Intimate. Mordred kept his eyes on the rumpled bed covers, seeing their movements in the creases and folds of the sheets. 'For everything that's happened to you. Us.'

He dragged his eyes away to meet Merlin's. 'It's not your fault.'

The magic shivered. Mordred Vanished, Merlin latching onto him as they swept through everything in their way.

.

.

.

Arthur sipped at the bitter coffee. It burned his tongue. He took another mouthful. His team were either sat contemplating how fucked they all were, or immersed in heated debates about the terrorist attacks which had hit London that morning. Over twenty shops, banks and offices had been obliterated consecutively over the span of ten minutes. It was a horror show. Blood bath. Hundreds dead or wounded. Something about it involved magic. He knew it.

Scotland Yard, the Met, were already stretched thin in all departments and now they were spinning out of control. Every order restoring, peace keeping and lifesaving organisation was out in mass trying to control the situation, and they had to sit like a row of ducks about to get shot by a ten year old who had no appreciation for stable trophic levels.

I can't watch you die. What does that even mean? Saying it will happen was even more confusing. Unless Merlin planned to kill him. Unlikely. Then again.

'Haven't heard from Merlin?' Gwaine said through a mouthful of an M&S wrap.

He took another swig. 'Not a word.'

'Chin up, mate,' Gwaine said as he shifted away from the arguing Percy and Leon to give Arthur his full attention. 'This is a lot to go through and he's probably just collecting his thoughts.'

'Last time he did that he didn't show up again for days. He's been different since that weekend and he thinks he's protecting me or something,' he trailed off, staring at the unappetising brown of the office's instant coffee. 'I don't know. He seems darker. Preoccupied. We can't afford to have him disappear again. He'll lose his rank, and at best get suspended with Cenred's accusations.'

'Can't have him visiting suspects in ongoing Operations, can we?'

'Percy's sure he saw Merlin go to Aredian's?' Arthur pressed when DCS Agravaine stepped out of his office with DCI Kilgharrah. Leaving the mug on his desk he marched up to them. 'We need to do something.'

'This task force is henceforth disbanded,' DCS Agravaine said before he could get another word out. The arguing stopped.

Arthur stepped back. 'What?'

'You still have your jobs, and you'll be designated to separate teams,' he went on. DCI Kilgharrah observed silently. 'There are plenty of crimes in need of good investigators after all.'

'What about Merlin?' Gwaine asked, Agravaine's mouth pursing for a second.

'Suspended without pay until we get this sorted out,' he said. 'He'll either be reinstated or thrown behind bars.'

Leon came to Arthur's side. 'We're the only ones who know about-'

'Magic? Interesting how that fact has yet to help us. Maclain has had a near mental breakdown, no tangible cause of death for Thornberry and press who have been waiting to eat us alive since Morgana went on trail in January.'

'Aredian?' Leon asked, firmly picking up the torch where Arthur had dropped it in shock.

'If there's nothing more than Merlin's gut feeling, the surveillance will end. Innocent until proven guilty. This has been an embarrassment. A waste of precious resources, and your talent. An official internal relations review is being launched. I suggest you all go make yourselves useful and help with the mass terrorist strike. DCI Kilgharrah has already organised your placements.'

Leon stared him down for a few more seconds before stiffly crossing over to their favoured superior. He gave Leon a piece of paper before leaving them. Arthur couldn't believe it. Didn't want to. Counting to ten he went for the paper listing their new positions when Agravaine stopped him.

'I understand you and Merlin were involved. Don't do anything rash. For your own sake,' he warned. Arthur shrugged him off and accepted the paper from Leon before leading his team out of the office. Once they were securely within the lift and the doors had slid shut he ripped it down the middle. The destruction was musical, the mechanical whirring of the lift an urban accompaniment. Each hand balled up its half.

'Does this mean we go rogue?' Gwaine said as they stepped out onto the ground floor, heading to the main doors. 'Always fancied myself a bit too good looking to abide by the law all the time.'

He held the door open for the rest of them. 'I need to find Merlin. Figure out the next move.'

'We all do,' Leon added while Arthur tried calling Merlin, the ringing cutting off for the voicemail. No answer. Predictable.

'He could be anywhere,' Gwaine reminded them as they headed to the car park. 'Across the world for all we know.'

'We start at the beginning. With Aredian,' Arthur said, pulling out his keys. He held them as he weighed their options. With the attack roads would be jammed, blocked, sectioned off. Traffic hell. Taking the tube was their best bet at getting to his house quickly. He slipped them back into his pocket. The air was still, unsettling, with the panic driving people this way and that around them.

Gwaine kept in time with his strides. 'Rogue it is then.'

'Feels a bit more natural, doesn't it?' Arthur realised, the bitter coffee forgotten with each determined step. 'No Commissioner, no reports, no Agravaine to answer to.'

'Definitely. You seem a bit more kingly too.'

'Kingly?'

Gwaine grinned at him. 'All you need is a crown.'

Arthur gave the Irishman a smile as they made for the St James's Park station. The large Underground symbol jutted out from the dirty cement across the road.

Leon kept pace behind them with Percy at his side. 'Elyan's pulling the surveillance shift, right?'

'Should be,' Arthur murmured.

'Personally I feel sorry for Gwen,' Leon said with a chuckle.

'She's got a soft soul,' Gwaine remarked. 'Perfect to soothe Maclain's nerves.'

They swiped their way through the barriers and descended, merging with the masses as they headed to the home of a killer who'd been handed a get-out-of-jail-free card by Agravaine.

.

The front door stood open when they arrived. Elyan climbed out of the car parked out front and jogged to meet them by the steps.

'I tried to call you,' he said, phone still in his hand.

'Took the tube,' Arthur muttered in return as he looked into the hallway, trying to judge the situation.

'Bad service,' Gwaine tagged on.

Elyan touched his elbow, forcing him to look away from the unnerving sight. 'Arthur, Morgana's in there.'

The bitter coffee flooded back into memory. 'With Aredian?'

'I didn't see him leave, so I'd guess so.'

He started for the door but put his arm against Gwaine who made to join him.

'Just me.'

'Ever seen a horror movie?'

'She won't hurt me.'

'Here's hoping,' Gwaine said with palms lifted up in the air as he stepped back. Arthur headed on, holding his breath when he crossed the threshold. He didn't know what to expect.

He passed the staircase and turned into the room on his left. 'Morgana?'

Perched on an armchair with her hand folded together on her knees she was inhumanely still. A statue. A ghost. 'He's going to kill them.'

'Who?'

'Mordred. Merlin,' she said, looking up at him. He could see the fear shine in her eyes. His heart twitched. She'd had the same look in her eyes when he'd broken his arm falling out of a tree. That was before university, the Met, before it all changed. 'That's why he came. Just like last time.'

That look. He'd seen something similar in Merlin too, only more controlled, even more pained. Magic seemed to come with a non-refundable dose of secrecy, a view of the world he was sorely deprived of. 'What the hell are you doing here, Morgana?'

'Same as you, brother. Is it that hard to believe?' she said as she got up, shaking her hands as if they were wet. 'I can feel it. In the air. Old magic, spreading. Only it's wrong. Something about it is wrong. Won't matter for much longer, I suppose. I just need to know he's safe.'

'Where's Aredian?' Arthur pressed. She glared at him, frustrated with something. Him? Herself? 'Do you know where Merlin is?'

She paced around the room like a tiger in a cage. 'I can't see anything. Only the fire and the water. Time's running out, Arthur.'