Colours.

Mordred's magic twisted around his skin when they arrived. It was a jolting experience, being launched into millions of pieces and getting carried away, led by the younger man into a world he knew nothing about. The corridor was narrow and the air diseased with something foul. People were near. Merlin watched their colours drifting around, murky and warped. They had magic, but it was buried and abused. Vibrations ran into his skin through the fabric of his jeans. Reaching into the pocket he took the phone out and read Arthur's name on the screen. He held down the power button. The empty darkness swarmed across the screen in silence, then he hid the phone in his pocket.

Merlin looked back up to Mordred and followed his gaze to the man leaning out of a doorway.

'And the sword returns,' the man remarked with a half-smile. The scarring, the stringy hair, the self conceited notes in his voice. Too familiar. Edwin Muirden. His heartbeat picked up. 'With Merlin. If Nimueh knew that you brought-'

Mordred stormed over to him. 'Why didn't you tell me?'

'Tell you?'

'About the bombs,' he said, the aggressive movement shifting the two of them out of sight into the doorway's room. Merlin could still hear them as he slowly followed. He walked towards them in his new and surreal world. His grip on everything was slipping. Had already slipped. Determining how far he'd fallen was half the problem. Arthur, the pain, the denial. Mordred, the frustration and the comfort. Himself. The magic in his heart sharpened his senses, made him feel each emotion more acutely than the last. Day after day, night after night, hour after hour. It was driving him insane. The dirty colours of misused magic clawed at his trousers, hair and skin as he went.

'You know the answer, Mordred Leir. You're as unpredictable as the sea, and just as trustworthy. Why reveal our hand to a spy?'

Merlin rounded the doorframe to witness Mordred's shock flash like lightning against the dark night of his expression. 'You knew?'

'Of course we knew. We're not stupid. You clearly loved thinking we were. Treating us like it. You, on the other hand,' Edwin laughed. Merlin kept to the doorframe, memories of the scarred man fuelling the growing fire in his veins. Some people didn't change. 'You're too late. The first stage is already complete.'

'What did you do?' Mordred asked. The storm crept into his entire face. Raging, ruthless, and naked. Exposed like the ocean's water to relentless winds. He was misled and tricked when he was supposed to be the grand liar. The desperation imbued his question and it made the blood in Merlin's veins seethe.

Another laugh. 'You'll find out soon enough.'

The crack of bone was grotesque. It sang out the tune Merlin's magic chose. 'What did you do?' he asked calmly. Repeated and reinforced with the painful warning, Mordred's words rose with weapons drawn and a banner to fly. Their owner stared at Merlin in silence, eyes wide.

Edwin stifled his cry and cradled the broken arm. 'What should have been done decades ago. Why do you think we were all brought back? Anyone with magic remembers our past in time. Trauma kicks the memories in gear, and we get our fair share of trauma. I dare say I've known for longer than you both. The world has forgotten our kind though, and now our time has come again.'

'Everything comes to an end, Edwin,' Merlin said darkly, eyeing the gruesome wound and shifting the bone with his magic. The man winced, his attempts at healing it failing. His magic couldn't match Merlin's.

'Yes. Yes I suppose you'd know a lot about that,' he said through clenched teeth. The cool plaster of the doorframe kept Merlin grounded. Kept him from breaking the other arm. 'Today isn't magic's end, however. It's the breath of life so desperately needed. There was a time you would have celebrated it. You've changed, Merlin Emrys, and not for the better I fear.'

Mordred moved closer to the injured man. 'What is Nimueh doing?'

'Currently?'

His hairs stood on end at the sound of her voice. Turning his head to the side he met her burning blue eyes. Nimueh? Mordred had failed to mention her. Of all things to leave out, why her?

'You're an impressive sight, Merlin,' she said, fingers dancing up his arm to the peak of his shoulder, a coy smile cut into her face. 'Long time no see. No hard feelings, I hope? If anyone should be upset, it is me after all.'

He jerked back and away. Now his heart was really giving him hell. She stank, the tinge she gave the air rotting away anything good. Anything with life. The corruption and his problematic memories made it hard to look her in the eye, but he didn't back down. Didn't blink.

'Torture won't work, if you were so inclined that is,' Nimueh said with an amused glance at Edwin's state. 'Leave now and turn your attention to that witchfinder. He's very interested in you, Merlin. Oh, and Mordred? You're no longer welcome here. This whole charade was fun while it lasted but it's become rather boring. If you come here again we'll kill you on sight.'

Merlin couldn't breathe with the pollution in the air. How had Mordred done it? How had he survived the mangled excuse for magic which oozed from her? This place? The heat twisting through his body was suffocated by it. Mordred pulled him by the arm, led him outside where trees rustled in the soft breeze. Where cement walls, shelters, paths were streaked with the diseased stain of Old Religion's magic.

Morgana was better. Manipulative, cruel, but she wasn't rotten. Not like them.

'What now?' he asked, processing it all.

The laughter of children floated on the wind.

Mordred stood next to him. 'We use what we have. We can't know what she's done from her own mouth, but that doesn't mean we can't know using magic. Combined we'll feel it. Find a trail.'

Merlin's chest ached. He missed Arthur. The one person who couldn't understand, couldn't help without being defenceless against any retaliation. He missed his king. 'How long will it take?'

'Let's find out,' Mordred said. Merlin grabbed the other warlock's hand and Vanished, letting the spark of another's magic distract him from the ache. Was that why he'd kissed Mordred? It felt so intoxicating because it distracted him. Made him feel safer than he had months. Made him feel understood. All things he couldn't have with Arthur without telling him the truth. The truth that would break his heart and Merlin's. If it wasn't torn in two already.

.

They landed in the empty living room, dark and silent. Through the shadows even darker shapes marked out the boxes which still clung to Gwaine's green touch. The ache lightened.

'Where are we?' Mordred asked.

'My flat,' Merlin said, illuminating the space with one clear thought and a tingle of his magic. Light flooded the room, glowing brighter as the bulbs warmed with their electrical blood. Mordred look around as Merlin admired the richness of the colours that enveloped him. They'd been hidden when he saw him that first time at Scotland Yard. Enchantments hiding the reality. He didn't wear them when they were alone. Like how Merlin wasn't weighted with a past only he knew about. The thought of floating so freely with Arthur made those weights buckle down in spite. Made them dig their hard fingers into the sticky battleground of the memories.

Mordred finished his study and smiled at him. 'Cosy.'

He shifted on the spot. 'How do we find that trail?'

Mordred smirked. 'Don't tell me I'm the experienced one here? Three years your junior, right?'

'I'm not entirely sure what we're looking for, so yes.'

'We'll be going into each other's minds again. Just a warning,' he added.

'First time wasn't that bad,' Merlin said, noticing how Mordred flinched at the mention of it. He'd seen into the man's past life, and present one. What he saw, the darkness clouding Mordred's childhood, left him furious and heartbroken. Left him in awe of Mordred's character, not the one created by Morgana, not the past Mordred driven by betrayal and anger. The one who stood before him, determined to stop something bad, to make amends and more.

'Follow my lead,' Mordred told him. He moved up to him, imperceptibly shorter. Mordred closed his eyes and after a moment's hesitation Merlin did the same. Silence. Breaths. The magic blew over him like the warm breeze had. Bathed him. Merlin freed his own magic and the power joined hands with Mordred's. They drew their breaths as one, hearts thumping in time, and in the darkness it bloomed.

From one point of origin blue and white sparks and stars poured out. Powdery, fine, sparkling dust shifted through the shadows like waves as London sprawled below them. Every structure, every person, vaulted up from the waves with pulsing colours and edges marked by the glimmering lights.

Somewhere Merlin knew his feet pressed down onto the wooden floor of his new flat. That Mordred stood opposite, eyes shut, breathing. Yet, floating in the dark expanse and looking down onto a glittering outline of the city, reality fell away.

Diving down into the beating city it was blatant. The murky brown which smothered a select few. Their vibrancy smeared and slathered with the corrupted enchantments. Joining a sea of colours, of sparkling silhouettes, Merlin reached out. His hand was shadow, like the rest of the illusion. When it touched the corrupted and faceless body the sludge recoiled. It started to drip off, crumbling below their feet and merging with the darkness.

Mordred, a fellow shadow, did the same a street away. They went on like that, brushing their hands, their magic, against the enchantments and letting them blow away like dead leaves in Autumn. No faces, clear features, no detail of any kind. They swam around the outlines which brimmed over with the shades and hues of their lives; Worked around the bustling people, vehicles, the constant motion which went on in silence. They explored London put on on mute, only seeing its bare bones and aura.

Merlin found and eliminated the last muddy mark Nimueh had left, then the outlines burst and the colours and shapes of people ruptured. Silent, violent, it all showered downwards, the darkness swallowing it all.

They were both tossed out of the muted world. Merlin's eyes opened, gasping for breath when his legs failed him and he hit the hard floor. Mordred collapsed too, groaning loudly. Ambient noise polluted the air and scents swarmed Merlin's senses. The light was blinding and he closed his eyes, rolling onto his back as laughter bubbled up his throat.

'That was weird,' Mordred said through his own elated chuckles.

'It was amazing,' Merlin remarked, the grin filling his face with no room to spare. The weariness hit him a second later, and his laughs died down.

'You feeling tired?' Mordred asked him, also falling quieter.

'Very,' he breathed before sleep hauled him away from the world and plunged him into his mind's recesses.

.

.

.

Arthur jogged down the street, the towering white houses rising into the night sky on his left. Each home identified as separate only by the balcony and two columns stretching down to border the entrance. They were period conversions, probably one of the reasons Merlin had chosen to move there. He'd said something about feeling the history in the walls of the flat they had shared.

It was the last place he could be.

Bounding up the steps he readied himself, about to do his best at breaking down the door. Merlin's refusal to answer his phone had stripped his patience. Morgana tugged him back.

'Don't be ridiculous,' she snapped, unravelling another strand of their shared childhood. He hated himself for wanting to smile. One second he saw the Morgana he'd loved, then he recalled what she'd done. It stung.

Her open palm twisted in the air in front of the handle. The tumblers inside the lock lifted and let her open it the next second. The door clicked open, barely making a sound.

'At least the press are gone,' Gwaine said, nudging Arthur who'd been glaring at Morgana. 'We got to drop his things off this morning.'

'Mass casualties tend to have that affect,' she remarked with the touch of a smile in her eyes. She still had her dark humour. The light grew brighter and she looked at the door. 'They're inside.'

Arthur moved forward, passed Morgana, through the door. Into Merlin's flat. Two doors, a stairwell winding upwards, then another door on the right, light streaming out to cast a golden rectangle onto the wooden floor. He stepped into it. Two bodies laid motionless. His heart missed a beat.

Running into the room he fell to the floor where Merlin rested. Swallowing the bitterness at seeing Mordred beside him, Arthur pulled Merlin into his arms and shook him gently.

He tried to ignore how stretched out and pale he was, the sharpness of his cheekbones which made the hollows of his cheeks seem gaunter than usual. 'Merlin? Merlin can you hear me?'

'Arthur?' he said, voice thick with sleep and heavy lids opening slightly. Arthur drank in the sight, the relief. Merlin was fine. With dark lashes, a five o'clock shadow and soft curls brushing his forehead. It had been forever since he'd seen Merlin wake up with such intimacy. Morgana crouched down next to Mordred who tried to roll over, hitting her calf. The bastard sat up and she wrapped him in a tight hug.

'Where have you been? I was so worried. I had a dream where you were drowning, and everything was burning, and Merlin,' she rushed out, grip never loosening, 'he broke a mirror and then you were standing bloody in a street where people were screaming.'

Merlin used Arthur as a support as he pushed himself up, looking over to the bastard who, while groggy, shared an expression of concern.

'Coincidence?' the bastard said.

'Never is,' Merlin replied. Arthur watched as they shared that expression, the secret.

'Were you with him this entire time?' he asked, his voice betraying the hurt he felt, the hatred towards the bastard. It didn't make sense. His gut knew this scene was wrong, like he was seeing a puzzle picture they'd both completed before, only he was missing half the pieces. Merlin was an idiot but he couldn't be that big an idiot.

'No, I,' Merlin started, stopping as he turned to face Arthur with a frown. 'Why are you here?'

The memory of that bitter coffee wouldn't leave him alone. 'Looking for you. You've been suspended until everything with Cenred is sorted. We've all been taken off the Thornberry case.'

No response. Merlin just stared at him with a frown. The uncomfortable whispers Mordred and Morgana exchanged forced Arthur to look up and see an odd smirk on the bastard's face.

'What did you do to him?' he asked, frustrated with his apparent ignorance.

'We had a deep, meaningful conversation,' the bastard said as he got to his feet and offered his hand to Merlin. Arthur quickly helped the idiot he loved, the idiot he hated for being so loveable, get up. 'I should go.'

The bastard shifted away from Morgana and pressed his lips to Merlin's. A hot, freezing paralysis trapped Arthur. Held him still as Mordred left. Made him watch Merlin do nothing stop him. He even looked amused by something. Until he saw Arthur. Then the shadows fluttered over his features, showing what could have been mistaken as guilt. It didn't make sense.

'Mordred told me he hadn't seen you,' Morgana said.

Merlin seemed to study her. 'When did he say that?'

'Last week.'

'One week can change a lot of things,' he said, and the words rippled through Arthur's thoughts. It really could. Merlin seemed so at ease, so impartial, so cold.

'Is that why you broke things off?' Arthur said, his features taught with anger. 'For him?'

Merlin opened his mouth when Gwaine jumped between the two of them. It didn't make sense, only it also did in a horrible way. A way Arthur couldn't understand. Didn't want to understand.

'He tried to rape you,' he spat, his features flashing between disgust, confusion and sadness as his thoughts spun. Merlin's eyes froze over with an impenetrable sheet of ice and he turned away to face Morgana. Gwaine's hands were on Arthur's shoulders and he told him to leave it alone. Did Gwaine know something too? How else could he say that?

'Was it you who left my fingerprints at Thornberry's?' Merlin questioned her.

'Yes,' Morgana said. Arthur ran a hand through his hair and waved Gwaine away, back into the foyer. 'Found him dead and thought it might make your life more interesting,'

Merlin nodded. 'Thought so. Was he one of your sponsors? The ones who helped you wreck my image in court?'

'Mordred told you?' she asked with disbelief. Arthur's fists were clenched at his sides as he counted to ten over and over again in his mind.

Merlin skirted the question, 'You really want me behind bars, don't you?'

'I did,' Morgana said, and again there was that pang of memory. Of comfort and love he'd once felt for her. That he still felt somewhere. It twisted around every other conflicting thought and added to strength of his bafflement and relentless confusion. They were slowly killing him.

'Not anymore?' Merlin said.

She smiled. It was soft. Kind. 'If anyone can kill the witchfinder, it's you. If he happens to kill you I can't say I'd be too upset, but still.'

'Can someone tell me what's going on?' Arthur practically pleaded, tired of listening to conversations he didn't understand. Merlin looked at him with that same frown pushing down on his face.

'Where's Aredian?' he asked. Arthur ground his teeth. He's avoiding me. Avoiding an explanation.

'He wasn't at his house or office,' Gwaine told him. 'Merlin, we need to know what's going on so we can help.'

'He doesn't want your help,' Morgana said gently, fixing her stare to Arthur's. 'Doesn't need it.'

'Arthur-'

'Stop it, okay?' Arthur cut Merlin off. He was calm again, but the anger continued to tear itself to pieces again and again in a corner of his mind, and everything was stained by that blasted bitter coffee. 'Just stop it. Stop shutting me out.'

Morgana looked to Merlin. 'Should I tell him?'

'No,' he answered. Curt. Authoritative.

'Sure?'

'If you even try to I'll-'

'Kill me? Hurt me?' she challenged. Merlin was unfazed by the violence she assigned to him. Cenred, Mordred, the secrets were constant and Arthur knew they hid something dark. 'Well, it's not as if the truth did much good last time.'

Arthur blinked and then Morgana was gone.

He unclenched his hands and faced Merlin. 'Tell me what?'

'Arthur,' Gwaine interrupted. 'Maybe we should keep out of this magic stuff.'

'We didn't last time,' he scoffed and shifted closer to Merlin, blocking out the Irishman. 'Do you even care that our team's been abolished? That you could lose your job? Could be killed? That the rest of us are probably out of jobs by coming here to help you?'

'Of course I care,' Merlin said.

'Then act like it.'

A resentful, mournful look fell over Merlin's face like shutters. 'I am, Arthur. You want me to be who I was. I can't be. Not anymore. I am caring. I'm trying to stop all of this. You can't help me. Not this time. This is my problem, not yours.'

'If it's yours, it's mine too,' Arthur said without hesitation. 'I can help, if you'd just let me. Talk to me. About Mordred, about the magic, about that weekend you disappeared. Talk to me about the nightmares that made you scream each night for two weeks straight.'

He heard Gwaine shift out of the room. The shadows hiding Merlin's truths began to lift, sincerity growing in the man's blue eyes. 'Merlin, I love you and I need to help you, and I hate that I do. I wish I didn't at this point. Just don't say I can't, cause it might just kill me. Not being able to do anything? It would end me.'

Merlin sighed and moved up to him. 'Arthur, I-'

A wall of powders and dust slammed Merlin to the side, billowing out in thick clouds like something organic before it surged outward and drowned the room. Arthur choked on it, trying to see through the fog of grey and violet particles. It was like wading through tar, the coloured particles clinging to and dragging against him.

'Merlin?' he called out before doubling over in a coughing fit when he sucked in a lungful of the powder. The smog was so thick he had to squeeze his eyes shut to stop the burning sensation.

'Arthur?' Gwaine yelled to him as he tried to breathe calmly and inhale some of the remaining clean air. The dust made a strange tinkling noise around him. Arthur began to crawl towards what he hoped was the door when the powder collapsed, hitting the ground like a sheet. Arthur looked up at Gwaine who was searching the room with wide eyes, the other three looming behind him. 'Where's Merlin?'

Arthur couldn't see him. Just the dirty powder layering every available surface, including himself. He was gone.