Hello! Thanks for the reviews on this story! Once again big thanks to Nance for her amazing beta skills!
Quick note: There were a couple of revisions done on the previous chapter to help "set the scene" a bit better, nothing plot changing, or life-altering for the characters. Just a little something to bring the reader into my world a bit more. Anyway...back to the new chapter! Footnotes at the bottom to help those who may not be familiar with Stargate or Doctor Who. Hope you enjoy all the bromance in this chapter, please leave a review!
Chapter Three:
Percival eyed the hot, black substance in the cup warily. To his reasoning, it did not look, or smell, like something drinkable. He stared at his own shimmering reflection in the thick glassy container, with its clean, polished enamel. It was similar to many other things here, being a white color that was purer than anything he had known. The large knight found himself caught between fascination and fear.
Gwaine laughed, "It isn't going to bite you, my friend."
"But what is it?"
"Nectar of the gods...pure, wonderful, roasted to perfection, then totally ruined by the automatic drip, to make it into the bitter substance it is today. Probably started with beans from Colombia..."
"Actually, that's Hawaiian 'Kona' Coffee, and I brought it in from my personal stock, as a welcome home present for you, and I slipped it into the cup before they brought the tray in." A man's voice piped from the doorway.. "...but if you don't like it, I can always take it back."
Gwaine looked up and grinned at the guy coming in. "Holy bloody hell, Cameron Mitchell!"
The man was dressed like many others in the base. The standard black T-shirt, pants, and polished boots; all form fitting and clean. He had short, cropped, light brown hair...which looked like fuzz from a nearly ripe cattail, sticking off in odd directions. His eyes were a light sky blue, below a high forehead that made the man's square face seem longer than it was. His upper lip curled in a snarl of disapproval. "Wow, has the General seen your hair? You are so far out of regs...I should give you a Page Seven [1] myself...because, you know, I outrank you now."
"Well, doesn't that just bugger all?" Gwaine rolled his eyes.
"And what the frack is up with the English accent, dude? I know your mom was a Brit, but seriously?" Colonel Cameron Mitchell snatched up Gwaine's coffee cup, and held it up to his face with a fake smile. He batted his eyes and held the handle daintily, with his pinkie finger sticking out. "Right-o, cheerio! Let's all have a cuppa, shall we? Maybe, Mi'Lard would prefer some tea and scones, while we raise a toast to Her Majesty..."
Cameron stopped abruptly. His light blue eyes froze when he saw Gwaine's frown. "Frack, what did I say?"
"Nothing man, don't worry about it." Gwaine began to flick imaginary dirt off the hospital-style table that floated over his lap. 'Her Majesty'...Queen Guinevere. No, that's not right, he thought to himself. He couldn't recall the current queen's name. His mother would be downright livid, if she was alive. She was very proper, British born and bred; pedigree and all. She was nineteen when she and his dad, an Army Sergeant at the US Embassy in London, were married. He, and his sister, were both born stateside. Laney, his sister, was three years his senior, and he hadn't seen nor spoken to her for years.
Gwaine was four years old when his dad was killed overseas. There was help available for military widows, but some underpaid paper pusher at the VA[2] screwed up the paperwork.
Instead of trying to deal with getting the benefits...on top of losing her husband, being on the brink of financial ruin, and a multitude of other problems...his mom decided to sell everything and go home.
They lived in London for a few years, barely scraping by, but happy in their two room flat... until his mother died in a car accident, when Gwaine was nine.
That was when Gwaine and his sister were sent to their only living relative; back in America, to Wyoming. Gwaine's dad had been estranged from his own father, a surly old rancher with a few hundred acres near the Montana border. To Gwaine's surprise, he actually got along rather well with his grandfather, whom he fondly called 'Pops'. His sister, on the other hand, never wanted to leave London. She was sixteen, when she ran away from home, after a huge confrontation with their grandfather.
Occasionally, Gwaine would get a call from her, just to check in. He was eighteen, when he finally found out the reason between his dad and grandfather's estrangement. From all accounts, the wild young man was chip off the old block. Gwaine was just as restless and headstrong as his father was; a typical teenager...without a care for rules. He lived his life in the fast lane: rodeo, skipping school, monster trucks, mud-bogging, drinking, and motorcycles. It was the last two that got him in trouble.
Pops bailed him out of the local county jail and stated, "If you're gonna act like your dad, you're gonna get the same treatment I gave him." Pops gave him a choice: either deal with the accident on his own, by repaying his grandfather for the bail money, and facing jail time for underage drinking and driving...or, Gwaine could drop out of his last year of high school, get his GED[3] and enlist in the military.
Gwaine, instead, chose a different option. He didn't enlist, instead the Marine recruiter saw something special in him. The recruiter pushed Gwaine into finishing high school and into college on a ROTC[4] scholarship. Unlike his dad, who simply enlisted after his argument with Pops, just to 'get the hell out of Dodge', Gwaine took the challenge to heart and changed his life around.
At university, he joined the fencing team. During a match against the USAF Academy, he met Cameron Mitchell. While Cam, aka "Shaft", failed miserably, Gwaine excelled in the sport, but that one match built a friendship which even time couldn't break.
Gwaine graduated with a degree in communications and took his commission shortly thereafter, passing up a chance to train for the Olympics. He applied for the Special Forces, and his military career went on the fast track.
"Dammit, Dallon." Cameron cursed. He put the mug back on the tray table in front of his friend. Grabbing a nearby chair, he spun it around and straddled it backwards, next to the bed. Cameron tried a different tactic to break through the silence. "First off, who'da thunk, we'd both end up here in the mountain, eh?"
Gwaine sighed, but stayed lost in his thoughts. He was pissed at how everything went down; from the moment he stepped through the Stargate and found himself in Camelot, to his return...which he couldn't even remember. Now, he was stuck in bed, unable to feel anything below his waist, because of some neurological thing; probably left over from Morgana's torture using her pet serpent. The doctors couldn't seem to tell him exactly what it was, or if it would heal.
"Come on, buddy, throw me a bone here...or something. Don't be going all PTSD[5] wonky on me, or I'll have your ass on KP[6] the moment you're released to light duty...peeling potatoes, or some shit."
Snorting out a chuckle, Gwaine turned to his buddy. "It's just been a long seven years, you know?" Gwaine noticed Percival was still staring blankly at the cup in his hand. "Cameron Mitchell, this here is Percival," he said, by way of an introduction.
The large knight looked up shyly, and gave a reserved smile and nod.
Cameron held out his hand, offering it in peace to the man. "Nice to meet ya. Damn, I think Teal'c's gonna have a run for his money as biggest badass on base, once he gets a load of you." He chuckled, when Percival returned the handshake.
The reference was completely lost on Percival. In fact, Gwaine couldn't recall ever seeing his large friend so befuddled. He supposed, it was logical. Being torn from everything you knew and shoved unceremoniously into such a foreign world, would mess with anyone's head. "Hey, Percival. Will you go find the Lady Doctor for me?"
The large man nodded, carefully setting the offending beverage down, and strode off.
"You know, you could just push that button by your bed there?" Cameron smirked, once Percival was out of earshot.
"Yeah, I know. I love the man, like a brother...but he won't stop hovering. I'm unsure if he's even figured out what a shower is yet."
Cameron chuckled, "I need to bust you out of here soon, so we can go grab a brewski."
"Sounds like a plan," Gwaine said, wiping his hands over his face. "So, how long have you been here?"
"Oh, I don't know...a while." The colonel looked at his watch, and read the date. "Maybe...about three days."
Laughing, Gwaine shook his head. "Yep, sounds like 'a while.'"
"Eh, I've actually been stationed with the SG Program for over three years now, as a pilot. You missed one hell of a dogfight against Anubis, in Antarctica a couple of years back..." Cameron cursed to himself when his friend just stared at him, blankly. "Ok, so there was this Goa'uld that ascended, right? Anyway, I was shot down, and just recently was released to full duty myself...so, we'll just skip that story."
"Cam, I've been out of it for seven years. I was stationed here straight out of SF training, just after they reopened the damn Gate. My team was the third one through, under the official program. 'Year, or so, later...I find myself stuck in the sixth-fracking-century. I don't even know how in the hell anyone found me."
"Riiiight..." Cameron licked his lips, and chewed on his thoughts for a moment. "Well, did you at least make use of that crappy fencing title you had?"
(*~*~*~*~*)
Percival was lost. Completely...and hopelessly...lost.
He wandered the underground tunnels of the SGC. He had gone, as Gwaine requested, to find the doctor. He then caught sight of her, just as she turned a corner ahead of him. He couldn't remember her name, in order to call out to her, so he just trotted after her, attempting to catch up. He went around the same corner and was faced with another hallway that ran to the left and front of him were large gray metal panels with huge white numbers painted on them. To the side of the tall panels, were two clear round circles with painted arrows pointing up and down in between them. A guard, dressed in mottled brown and green clothing, stood in front of the buttons, and raised his eyebrow at Percival.
"Can I help you find something?" He asked, his hand unconsciously moving to rest on the odd bent piece of black metal that hung from his belt, like a sword and scabbard.
Blue eyes darted back and forth, scanning the hallway. "I'm looking for the Lady Doctor."
The guard nodded, realizing that the man had come from the infirmary. "I think she went to see General Landry. You should probably head back to the infirmary. I'll put a call into the general's office and let them know."
Percival nodded his thanks, and turned back the way he had come. Somehow, somewhere between the guard by the numbered panels, and the infirmary, he made a wrong turn. His hand itched for a sword or a mace. Just something to defend himself with; although there appeared to be no threats in this place. It would have at least made him feel better.
He heard voices down a side passage, and stiffened. He knew who one of the voices belonged to...or he would have back in Camelot. Blue eyes widened, and a grin of relief sprouted on his face. Not only did the man coming towards him sound like Merlin...he looked like him too. He didn't know how, or why, and at that moment, he didn't care.
Percival swooped in on the shorter man, before the other had a chance to do anything.
Merlin just stared in utter disbelief, as he was picked up and squeezed within an inch of his life, by the giant knight he knew from many hundreds of years before.
"I take it you know this man, Colonel?" An older gentleman wearing a light blue shirt, covered in small ribbons asked.
Merlin replied, catching his breath, as Percival sat him down. "Yes, General, I do. He is a British Citizen, so under our current treaty, I'd like to request his transfer from the SGC into UNIT custody."
"UNIT custody, huh?" The general gave a mocking smile. "Or your personal custody? See, I checked up the ranks, and it appears your visit here is a bit off the radar." He raised his hands when Merlin opened his mouth to argue. "Now, I don't give a flying monkey's butt about whether your visit is official or not. I just came into this job. So, if something like this gets swept up in all the confusion during the transfer of command, and I happen to miss something...oh well. I'll say 'oops' later."
Merlin laughed, "General Landry, I think we are going to get along perfectly." He turned back to Percival. "How are you holding up?"
The large man shook his head and shrugged, "Well enough. Gwaine was the one she tortured."
It took a moment for Merlin to comprehend who Percival was referring to. "Is he alright?" His eyebrows knit together with concern.
"It'd be better if I could find him again. This place makes me nervous," he said in a hushed tone.
Two women stood back from them, watching the interaction. One was the doctor, whom Percival had been searching for. The other was a woman with a skin tone similar to Queen Guinevere's, wearing a man's style uniform that matched Merlin's. He wore a dark, tailored jacket, buttoned down neatly. On his chest were a row of tiny ribbons, similar to the general's. Shining insignia were on his collar, and he had a red, odd-looking hat tucked under his arm. It was so much fancier than the boy's former servant's clothing and neckerchief.
The doctor, whose knees were still very immodestly showing, came up to Percival. "Come on, we'll get you back to the infirmary and discuss your release."
"Now, Colonel," General Landry said, as they began following the doctor. "The other man...I can't release to you. You know that, right? He's a US citizen, and a Marine stationed here."
"If I read the file right, General, his contract expired five years ago. I think we should find out, first, if he wants to extend his commission, or move onto other things." Merlin gave Landry a polite, but challenging smile.
Landry laughed, "Fair enough. If anything, I believe Captain Dallon has quite a bit of leave time on the books."
(*~*~*~*)
"Command of SG-1...wow," Gwaine stated, as if he knew the actual significance. When he was last in the SGC, SG-1 was the team that seemed to catch the most flack, and find the most trouble. Now, however, they appeared to have become a legend on the base.
"Yep...but, I am supposed to start from scratch. Carter is off in Area 51, Dr. Jackson is heading to Atlantis, and I'm supposed to head out in about an hour to go try and convince Teal'c to come back. Don't suppose you want on the team?" Cameron put his hands together in supplication, and mouthed 'please, please, please'.
"...And take orders from you? Ha! You must have really knocked your head in that crash. Naw, think I'm gonna take some leave and get myself back into the twenty-first century. Maybe try and find my sister...see if Pops is even still alive."
"Oh, that old man of yours is still kickin'. Calls me every few months to see if I've heard anything about you."
Gwaine smiled at that, although it didn't quite reach his eyes.
Cameron leaned back and rolled his neck. "Oh, I was out a couple nights ago, at this kick ass bar, and the women there...bro, what happened, you looked for a minute there like I'd just run over your favorite puppy?"
Gwaine shook his head and scrunched his eyes against the emotions that started to hit him. "Nothing...I...uh..." He blinked rapidly and rubbed at his eyes. "It's just that, I recently lost someone I cared about...before I was rescued and all. Let's just say, I'm not ready for the dating scene, right now."
Cameron stood up and moved the chair out of the way. He moved closer to the hospital bed and squeezed his friend's shoulder. "I'm sorry to hear that."
"Yeah, me too. Actually, it's kind of funny, and I don't think it's hit me yet; how many people I've lost. Everyone who I knew...whom I was close to back there...they're all gone. Dead and buried centuries ago, except Percival... and I don't think he realizes it yet either, or maybe he does. I never can tell with him sometimes."
"Gwaine!" The large man he was just speaking of, came bolting into the infirmary, a huge smile on his face.
Gwaine quickly wiped his face and returned the enthusiastic grin. "What is it?"
"You'll never guess who's here!"
He was right, Gwaine never would have guessed; not in a thousand years, probably not in a million.
Sauntering around the corner, chatting up the CO[7] of the base, was Merlin.
They stared at each other for a few minutes, neither man truly able to believe the other was really in front of him.
The other man put on a cheeky grin. "Hello, Gwaine!"
Cameron patted his friend on the shoulder, one last time, and said, "Well, I'll catch up with you more later, Dallon. I gotta go see a guy about a drummer for my band."[8]
Gwaine nodded, "Thanks Cameron. We'll have to go get that drink when you return."
"Oh, and hey Dallon," Cameron said, just before he dashed out the door. "Lose the accent."
After he left, Merlin slipped in beside Gwaine. He blinked in disbelief. "How the hell did you manage to pull this off?"
"I could ask the same thing about you."
"It's a long story..." Merlin said, almost wistfully.
"Isnt it always?" Neither of them wanted to elaborate on their stories at the moment.
"Well, Colonel Emrys, if you need anything, just let me know. I gotta actually pretend I work around here." General Landry said, before leaving the room.
Gwaine noticed the darker skinned woman in the uniform nearby, when she spoke, "Dr. Lam, I was informed Captain Dallon's condition is partially due to a suspected adder bite, yes?"
"Ah, we believe so...are you a doctor?" Carolyn Lam asked.
"I am." She turned and smiled at Gwaine. "May I have your permission to review your file?"
"Uh..."
"Don't worry, this is Martha Jones. She understands a lot more than you can imagine about these types of things," Merlin said, cryptically.
"Sure. Knock yourself out."
Martha waited for the base's doctor to start heading towards her office, and shot Merlin a wink before following. He gave her smile in return, which Gwaine had never expected to see on his scrawny friend.
Once the three men from Camelot were alone, they looked at each other. None of them sure what to say about the unusual circumstances they found themselves in.
Finally, Gwaine broke the stalemate and held out his hand towards Merlin. "Captain Gwaine Dallon, US Marines, Special Forces."
Merlin took his hand and shook it. "Merlin, from Ealdor...a hell of a long time ago." He looked expectantly at Percival.
"What?" The large man asked, not quite understanding why his friends felt the need to reintroduce themselves. "You know me. You saw me less than a fortnight ago, before Camlann."
Merlin pursed his lips. Gwaine chuckled at the man's unexpected reaction.
"Alright, maybe this will go better if we tell each other the whole story."
"I agree," Merlin snapped out. It took a hell of a lot to confuse him after all the centuries...and this situation certainly had.
Gwaine took a sip of his, now cold, coffee, and began his version of the tale. He explained to Merlin how he got into the military, and more specifically how he ended up back in Camelot. "I was told it was some sort of solar flare that caused the wormhole to jump. No one ever expected a Gate to be hidden in the British Isles. They've sent a team over to investigate and try to locate it."
"Where was it located?" Merlin asked.
"You know that cave in the Valley of the Fallen Kings you went to, last time I saw you?"
He sniggered, "Well, they're never going to find it."
"Oh?"
"Yeah, I hid it with my ma..." his voice trailed off, and he looked at the other two men, nervously.
"Magic?" Gwaine grinned.
"You have magic?" Percival asked, his eyes searching the room to make sure they were alone.
"Uh...huh." He managed to look rather contrite.
Gwaine chuckled, "Yeah, I kind of guessed it when I first met ya. I mean, I grew up reading about the great wizard Merlin and all that. Hell, my mom actually named me after...bloody hell." He stopped. He didn't know how to react. He came to the realization that he was named after...himself.
Merlin imitated a fish rather well, opening and closing his mouth. He burst out laughing, unable to contain himself. "Why am I not surprised?"
Percival groaned, before finally chuckling, too. He may not have been able to grasp the entire conversation, but he could understand the basics of Gwaine's epiphany.
"Enough already!" Gwaine said in an exasperated tone. Although quite humorous, he was ready to hear Merlin's side of the story before embarrassing himself even more.
However, Merlin wasn't done listening to how the two knights managed to get to the twenty-first century. "So, how did you find your way home?"
Gwaine stared across the room. Percival took that as his cue to continue the tale. "We...went after Morgana. We thought we could ambush her, at least to give you more time to save the king."
"And to get revenge," Gwaine said, softly.
"I thought Gwaine was dead, when I finally got to him after I freed myself. She had tied me up. But then, some of these people came. They hit me with one of their..."
"Guns," Gwaine supplied, "he took round to the shoulder."
The large man nodded, rubbing at the bandage beneath his borrowed shirt, and continued, "Next thing I knew, they had Gwaine and me, and were taking us through that large metal circle, they call a 'Gate'. We arrived here, and they managed to save him. That was about four days ago, at least from what they say. I can't tell day from night, in this place."
Merlin nodded thoughtfully. He was about to open his mouth and speak, when Martha and the Dr. Lam came back into the room.
"Well, we've figured it out," she said with a smile. "The snake that bit you, was an extremely rare...and now extinct...offshoot of the adder, known as a 'nathair'." The raised eyebrows, and slight head nod she gave, indicated a deeper meaning that was not lost on the warlock.
Merlin looked at her appraisingly. Throughout the years, he'd managed to record and salvage books on creatures and magical items found in the Old Religion. There was so much information, he could barely remember a quarter of it on a good day. Only recently, due to Martha's receptiveness and ability to accept even the oddest of oddities, had he begun to share his wealth of knowledge with her.
Merlin searched his memories for more information on the creature...and came up blank. Sometimes it really annoyed him to be so old. He realized his memory hadn't left him, like it would for a normal person, but there was just too much stuffed in his head to sift through. He chuckled when Martha, realizing his issue, handed him a tablet with the information on it. It took barely a glance at the picture for his memory to finally click.
"Ah," he said, with a nod.
The doctor, who had made Percival blush, looked at the two UNIT officers. "For an extinct creature, you seem to know a lot about it." Her tone left no room for doubt, that she thought they were up to something.
"It's a hobby of mine, and I'm afraid my enthusiasm for the bizarre and exotic, has rubbed off on my companion." Merlin tried to explain.
"I see..." The doctor turned to Gwaine. "Well, according to Dr. Jones here, there is a way to reverse the neurotoxins that are still affecting your system."
"If I may borrow some of your equipment, I should be able to start working on the anti-venom."
Dr. Lam looked hesitantly between her patient and Jones. Finally, she relented. "I'll just have to get permission from General Landry first." She turned and headed back to her office to make the call.
Martha smirked at Merlin.
"Thank you. Have I told you how much of a dear you are, lately?"
"Well, yeah, but a girl always likes to hear how much she's appreciated." Martha squeezed his shoulder before leaving to find Lam.
"Extinct type of adder?" Gwaine chuckled when the three men were alone again. "So, does your girlfriend really have a cure for it?"
"No..." Merlin said, biting his bottom lip. His eyes darted around the room for a moment before they met Gwaine's. "...but I do, and she's not my girlfriend."
"That's a load of hogwash."
"Seriously," Merlin protested, "she's my fiancée."
Gwaine bit his tongue and laughed.
"What's a fiancée?" Percival asked.
"It means our little Merlin is betrothed," Gwaine explained. Turning back to Merlin he gave a thumbs up. "Good for you, my friend...about time you found someone."
The warlock looked away, his ears darkening with embarrassment. "Actually, she's not my first wife." At Gwaine's look of astonishment, Merlin continued, "I've been married a few times. You try living for centuries all alone. It's nice to find someone to share it with, from time to time. Now, do you want me to do this, or not?"
"With your magic, huh?"
The warlock gave a shrug. "Only if you want me to."
"Hell, why not. What's the worst that could happen?."
Percival crossed his arms in front of his chest, defensively. "Gwaine, are you sure? Magic is supposed to be evil."
"Do you think the man who shot you with the gun was evil?"
The large man thought for a moment. "No, it was a miscommunication. I didn't know they were there to help, and I thought I was protecting you."
"Same thing, I'd wager. Could you imagine Merlin here being evil?"
Percival shook his head immediately. "Never."
Merlin's heart soared. He never realized how much, even after so many centuries, what their acceptance would mean to him. "I should have told you both, long ago."
"And I should have told you about my own past, Merlin," Gwaine confided.
"No...I don't think I was ready for this..." he motioned to the room around them, "...back then."
"Fair enough." Gwaine rubbed his hands together. "So, what do you need to do?"
Merlin began explaining to his friend that there were two ways he could go about it. Either a quick burst of magic, to fully remove the remaining effects of the nathair, or a slower process that would appear more natural to those around them. As much as Gwaine wanted to be back on his feet, he realized a sudden miracle might not be the best choice without exposing his friend.
Footnotes:
[1] Page Seven: I'm unsure what the Air Force or Marine equivalent is, but for the Coast Guard this is remarks from someone of a higher rank that go on your personal file. They can either be positive or negative, however most of the time when used as everyday jargon, it's referred to in the negative aspect.
[2] VA Veterans Affairs
[3] GED General Education Degree
[4] ROTC Reserve Officer Training Corps
[5] PTSD Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder
[6] KP Kitchen Patrol.*
[7] CO Commanding Officer
[8] Reference to Stargate Ep 9x1 Cameron saying to Walter: "It doesn't look like we're getting the band back together."
Other notes:
*Funny Note about all the military style initialization: While writing this I was reminded of one of my favorite lines from the movie "Good Morning, Vietnam!" In which, Robin William's character is making fun of all the letters: "Excuse me, sir. Seeing as how the VP is such a VIP, shouldn't we keep the PC on the QT? 'Cause if it leaks to the VC he could end up MIA, and then we'd all be put on KP."
Anyhoo- now that THAT little random squirrel has run it's course (straight out into the street, with an oncoming car), I have found my muse returning for Lord of Beasts...unfortunately it is trying to take a very odd turn that I am resisting going down, so there should be a chapter before beginning of next week on that one.
Thank you for taking the time to read this! Please take a moment to leave a comment. Thanks!