"Turn right up here." Arthur instructed, watching Elyan turn the wheel and shift the van onto a smaller, darker street. "Third house down, there it is, the grey one with the red door." He continued, gesturing to his parent's house that was as dark and closed off as all the rest on the street around them.
"You grew up here?" Gwaine let out a low whistle, tilting his head to appreciate the two story home with a neatly trimmed lawn and freshly painted fence that surrounded the small yard. "Even in this life you were a prince."
"And prisoner. Don't let the look of the place fool you, I had no say in the things I did or studied." The last thing Arthur wanted to do was return home, especially after his last fight with his father and the zero contact that had occurred after he officially blew off that last meeting he was supposed to attend.
However, Merlin had been coughing up blood for the last twenty minutes; the crimson staining the front of his face while mixing in with his scruff and dripping down to stain his shirt and coat. He'd started to choke on it now, there was that much coming up out of him. And it was all after he'd breathed in some sort of noxious gas that Morgana had laid as a trap for them.
Merlin's blood had already seeped through Arthur's jeans from where the warlock's head lay, and Lancelot's hands were stained from where the knight had attempted to clean him up. Though all of that was nothing compared to the backseat of Leon's van where the blood had splattered against the seats and the floor.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" Leon asked quietly, leaning in closer as Arthur took in the house looming over them.
"We've got no other choice." He muttered, shifting Merlin off of him before he swung open the sliding door and stepped out into the cold night air.
There was no noise in the neighborhood, though it was half past eleven at night, and Arthur winced with each step that seemed to scream his presence. Walking up the three stone steps that led up to the dark red door that he'd helped pick out years ago, the blond cast a wary glance behind him.
Lancelot and Gwaine had each taken one of Merlin's arms, holding the man up between them while his blood ran in a thin but steady stream down his chin. Percival and Elyan stood just behind, keeping watch over their friends and guarding their backs. Leon, loyal man that he was, had stepped up right next to Arthur. The man who had been with him the longest, offering his silent companionship.
Sucking in a sharp breath, Arthur lifted his hand and knocked on the door three times, his knuckles prickling from the contact as the noise echoed through the darkness. Somewhere in the distance a dog began to bark, the noise muffled but distinct, and Arthur sighed as he lifted his hand and knocked again, putting more force behind the noise.
His father slept like the dead, always had. His mother on the other hand slept so light that she used to say she woke up whenever Arthur turned over in his bed down the hall.
"Maybe they're not home?" Gwaine suggested from nearby, having crept closer with Merlin in tow.
Before Arthur could respond to him, the porch light above their heads turned on, bathing the lot of them in a cool, yellow glow.
"I'm not that lucky." Arthur mumbled to himself, watching as the front door shuddered and pulled open.
Through the mesh of the screen door, he could see an older woman with carefully curled, blonde hair that was pulled back away from her face.
"Arthur?" His mother gasped, pulling the door open wider and staring at each of the men on her doorstep with wide, concerned eyes.
"Hello, Mother." Arthur spoke, his voice catching as he heard Merlin coughing behind him. "We need your help."
It was a strange sensation, sitting in their guest living room when Arthur was anything but a guest.
An old blanket had been thrown over the plush loveseat, and Merlin lay on top of it with his head propped carefully and his feet hanging over the edge. Arthur had never thought of the warlock as especially big or tall, but compared to the delicate tastes of his mother, all of them were giants.
Leon, Lancelot, and Elyan were all seated in various plush chairs around a large table decorated with leaves, flowers, and now the tea set that his mother had set out for them. Gwaine and Percival were attempting to clean Merlin up with the old rags and first aid kit that Arthur had found for them, while the former king himself was pacing anxiously in the otherwise silent room.
"Alright, your father is still asleep." His mother spoke as she walked back into the room.
For a moment her composure waivered, her eyes flickering warily over each of the men before lingering on Merlin. The next moment however she had a smile once again plastered to her face, and Arthur knew she'd forced herself into her 'hostess mode' as he and his father used to joke.
"You didn't wake him?" Arthur asked, pausing in the middle of the room near a brick fireplace as his mother worked to force the frown from her face.
"I considered it, but I felt there were more important things going on here. Once we get your friend taken care of, I'll let him know that you're here."
"You don't have to." The blond mumbled, running a hand through his already ragged hair.
"He would want to know you're here, Arthur. Especially with the state that you're all in."
"He cut me off, Mum. He would kick me and my friends out with no care for how we are or what we need."
"No, he wouldn't." His mother spoke sharply, but when Arthur gave her a harsh stare, she sighed and softened her tone. "Alright, well, I wouldn't let him. Not with your friend in the state he's in. Now tell me, what happened? And why haven't you gone to a hospital?"
The knights exchanged glances all around before Merlin began to groan, his body stirring on the too small couch. As the warlock's eyes began to open, Arthur dropped down beside him, taking Percival's spot while the man went to fetch a new rag.
"Merlin?" Arthur asked, gripping the man's shoulder tightly as blue eyes struggled to hold his gaze.
"His name is Merlin?" His mother gasped, taking a few steps closer.
"Not now, please." Arthur murmured, feeling his friend's hand clasp weakly at the collar of his shirt and dragging his attention back to him.
"Supplies.." Merlin groaned, coughing again and causing blood to spray across his chin. "Need supplies.."
"What supplies? Where can we get them?" Arthur asked quickly, leaning back a few inches to avoid any of the airborne blood.
"From home.. secret cabinet.. in kitchen.."
"He still uses magic?" Elyan stared, only to be jabbed in the ribs by Lancelot.
"What, did you expect him to just push down an entire part of who he is?" The man chided as Arthur shot them both a glare.
"What supplies exactly do you need?" The blond pressed, gently shaking the warlock to get him to focus on him again.
"Blue bottle.. and.." Turning away, Merlin coughed again, his whole body shuddering as he gasped for breath.
Gripping him tightly, Arthur held him steady as Gwaine leaned forward to clean away the blood from his nose so the warlock could suck in a breath.
"Blue bottle?" Arthur continued, his shoulders tense as the man's blue eyes stared dully up at the ceiling.
"Small white bag.. crushed herbs.. labeled with a G.. and two white vials.. purple tint.." Closing his eyes, Merlin's head leaned heavily against Arthur's hands, and the former king drew in a shallow breath.
"We'll go." Percival announced, standing idly by as Elyan and Lancelot stood as well.
"I remember how to get there, but I don't have a key." Lancelot said while tugging on his coat.
"Hold on, I think he has them.. yes, here." After digging through Merlin's coat pocket, Arthur tossed the keyring across the table where Elyan caught it easily. "Be careful, we don't know who or what will be waiting for you." He warned, listening to Percival snort.
"Let Morgana come at me."
"He's right, we need to be careful." Lancelot frowned, looking to Arthur and giving him a tight nod before ushering the other two out the door.
The room grew quiet again as Arthur pulled carefully away from the warlock and began to clean his hands.
"Arthur," His mother spoke softly, her body too small and petite in the doorway. "What exactly have you gotten yourself into?"
Glancing back at Leon and Gwaine, Arthur stood and walked towards his mother, gently pulling her off to the side. "It's all real, Mum. All of it."
"What is?"
"The legends." Arthur said, tipping his head closer and lifting a brow as understanding dawned on the woman's face.
"Oh, Arthur—"
"No, please listen to me." Arthur begged, taking his mother's hands in his. "All of those dreams that I used to have as a child? They're all real, they're all true. And that man over there? That is Merlin. The real Merlin."
"The old sorcerer?" His mother asked skeptically, beginning to shake her head. "Arthur, that boy cannot be any older than twenty five!"
"Try about twenty times that. I think. I'm not really certain about his exact age, but he has been alive for centuries. And he has magic, Mum, real magic."
"Arthur, your father told me about the fight that you two had, and how—"
"How he didn't believe me?" Arthur demanded, pausing to take a breath and lower his voice. "I'm not crazy, Mother. I never was. This is all real, I promise you. I am King Arthur of Camelot, reborn."
"How can that be? I gave birth to you!" His mother threw out her hands before covering her mouth and looking away, tears clear in her eyes.
"Yes, and I'm still your son, but I have all the memories of who I was before, back then. I remember all the things, all the little moments, of the man I was before. I am the same as I was back then."
"Not exactly.." Merlin mumbled from the couch, obviously eavesdropping despite their quiet tones. "You're less of a prat.. than you were back then.."
"Shut it, you." Arthur shot back, watching the warlock readjust on the couch with what might have been the smallest of smiles.
"You realize what you're asking of me, don't you? What you want me to believe?" His mother asked quietly, gesturing to the two men standing in the room behind them. "Who exactly are they supposed to be? Lancelot and Gawaine?"
"Just Gwaine, Ma'am. They butchered my name in those old stories." The knight spoke up, looking between the two before sinking down next to Merlin as the woman's face paled.
"And you?" She asked weakly, meeting Leon's eye as the knight straightened.
"Sir Leon, Ma'am. I've known Arthur most of his life. Or rather, most of his past life."
"This is all too much." She whispered, grabbing hold of the doorframe to steady herself as Arthur gently grabbed hold of her arm.
"Mother, you don't have to believe us," He said, though the words pained him to get out. "Just don't tell Father we've been here until after we've left. Let us help Merlin."
His voice pled out to the woman who raised him. The same woman who tended to his wounds after rough rugby matches and bought him his first mobile even when his father had already told him no. The same woman standing before him who looked devastated and scared.
"Mother?" Arthur pressed, squeezing her elbow as her dark blue eyes found his.
The worry faded away after a few seconds, masked by an expression of determination. "What can I do to help your friend?"
"They're taking too long." Gwaine grumbled, his leg bouncing up and down as Leon scrolled through his phone.
Merlin was quietly sleeping, only jerking occasionally to cough up more blood that Arthur was quick to wipe away.
"It hasn't been that long." Leon spoke distractedly, typing something as Gwaine tilted his head back and groaned.
"It's been two hours, Leon. It's nearly two in the morning!"
"They'll be here." Arthur snapped, looking back at the knight who clamped his mouth shut at his tone. "They know how important those ingredients are. They'll be here."
Turning back to Merlin, Arthur dropped his head and closed his stinging eyes. They were all exhausted, and all aware that their night was still far from over.
His mother had been down occasionally to check on them, making them fresh tea and sandwiches, and to ask how long they expected to still be there. Mostly though she stayed upstairs, worried that his father would wake and come looking for her.
"I'm just saying, I would think they—" Gwaine's words were cut off by the loud screech of a car outside, the noise jolting all three of them to attention.
Seconds later Percival, Lancelot, and Elyan came bursting inside, out of breath and disheveled. Lancelot had a cut across his left bicep, and Percival had a bruise forming on his right cheekbone.
"We've got trouble." Elyan panted, turning his head to look outside and revealing a streak of dirt along the back collar of his shirt.
"What happened?" Arthur demanded, hurrying to close the door behind them after peering out into the night.
"What happened to Merlin?" Lancelot asked gruffly, and as the former king turned to look, found the knight trying—and failing—to rouse the warlock.
"He's been sleeping. At least, I thought he was." Arthur scowled, darting over and dropping down beside the knight as they both shook Merlin's shoulders.
"Do we just mix these things together and try to feed it to him?" Percival asked, walking over with a small bag that clinked together as he shook it.
"I have no idea. Merlin, wake up!" Arthur spoke firmly, leaning over and giving him a hard shake against the cushions. Finally letting out a soft groan, the warlock cracked open his eyes and blinked slowly up at the man.
"What happened to you guys?" Leon was asking, and when Arthur looked over found that Elyan was scowling.
"The police had been tipped off about Merlin's flat. We had to sneak inside, and then we were nearly caught trying to leave."
"Police?" Arthur's mother gasped from the doorway, coming down to check on them at the worst possible time as the blond sighed.
"Focus on that later, please. Merlin, what do we need to do with these things?" He asked, holding out the bag as the warlock coughed again.
"Arthur, what exactly have you done?" His mother demanded, her voice growing louder as the warlock gently poked at the bag.
"I need to mix them.. it's a spell.. needs mixed.." The man mumbled, his hand falling back to his chest as Elyan darted into the kitchen.
He came back a moment later with a pink mixing bowl, and Arthur's mother let out a yelp. "That one is not for mixing chemicals!"
"Mother, I'll buy you another one." Arthur spoke, trying hard not to snap as he held the bowl while Percival unloaded the ingredients inside and gave it a stir with one of the teaspoons.
"Dorothy!" A loud voice echoed from up the stairs, and every single person in the room froze and fell silent. "Turn on the news!" Arthur's father bellowed, his footsteps heavy on the steps as the former king bit back a curse. They were quickly running out of time.
"Arthur has finally lost it!" Stepping into the parlor where the lights were all on, the older man dressed in pajamas stopped dead in his tracks as his wide eyes moved over each person in the room, before finally stopping on Arthur.
"Dear—"
"What in the hell are you doing here?" His father boomed, glancing at Merlin's bloody form before looking back at his son.
"Father, I can—"
"Have you heard, Dorothy? Our son robbed a museum tonight!" His father's voice was an angry growl, and the words caused the woman to gasp again as she whirled to face her son.
"Look, none of this is what you think it is, but we will leave as soon as Merlin is better." Arthur said through gritted teeth, still holding the bowl of magic ingredients.
"Why is there blood everywhere? Is that from the man you killed?" His father demanded, causing Arthur to flinch.
"What?" His mother now shrieked, her steps sliding back towards her husband as Arthur scowled.
"We didn't kill anyone! This whole thing is a setup!"
"Is that what you didn't want to tell me? That you hurt someone during a robbery?" His mother whispered, her hands fluttering at her face while his father wrapped an arm around her.
"A museum, Dorothy. The one holding a sword supposedly known as the great Excalibur, which is now missing as well."
"Father!"
"This has gone on long enough, you with all your delusions. Now you've brought others into your sick fantasies and you're hurting people. I'm phoning the police and you're going to pay for what you've done." His father made it all of three steps before Percival and Lancelot stepped in his way, blocking the man from leaving the room.
"Arthur!" His father barked, and the former king looked at Merlin in desperation. Everything was spinning out of control faster than he could even think.
"Merlin, show them, please."
The warlock met his eye before barely nodding. Setting the bowl on the ground, Arthur helped his friend to sit up and steadied him as he wavered. Placing the bowl in his lap, Merlin clutched it and closed his eyes. For a moment his lips moved silently, before he suddenly began to grow louder, words that Arthur had once dreamt of filling the room.
"What is he muttering? Why is he acting possessed?" His father demanded, shoving off the knight's hands.
"Just wait." Arthur muttered, glaring at the older man who pressed his lips tightly together.
Merlin's murmuring grew even louder until finally he stopped. His eyes flew open then, and Arthur pushed away, surprised at the bright golden color of the warlock's eyes. He'd seen the change before of course, but it had never been so bright.
A gasp sounded from his mother, and his father stuttered nonsensically for a moment before going silent. Arthur glanced around the room, and the knights all seemed in awe of their friend. Everyone except Lancelot.
"Ic the bebeode thaet!"
The mixture in the bowl began to glow, swirling together until the herbs melded with the potions that they had stirred in. Lifting the bowl to his lips, Merlin drank the mixture within seconds, and as the bowl lowered, the warlock let out a breath and a wave of energy washed over the room.
A sense of calm drifted over Arthur, and he knew immediately what that feeling had been. Ancient, powerful magic. The kind that only the greatest sorcerer could conjure.
For a few moments no one dared to speak. Merlin looked better, though he still had dried blood spread across his chest and face.
Leaning over to set the bowl on the table in front of him, Merlin looked directly at Arthur's parents and blinked. As he did, his eyes returned to their normal shade of blue.
"My name is Merlin." The man spoke, his voice loud and stern and filled with authority. "I am also known as Emerys. I am the most powerful sorcerer to have ever walked the Earth, and trust me when I say there used to be many. I am more knowledgeable of the past than any historian, as I have lived through it all firsthand. I am the protector, and the friend, of King Arthur of Camelot who now stands before you, reborn into this age. What he speaks is truth, and what he faces is a greater danger than any of us have ever known before."
Merlin's voice had complete control over them all, pure power held in every word he spoke and folded into the lilt of his voice. "King Arthur," The warlock spoke again, focusing his attention now on the blond. "I stand with you, for this battle, and all others."
Not another word was spoken, but the knights throughout the room began to bow, taking a knee in front of Arthur in the same living room where he once wore stuffy suits and listened to men discuss stocks and taxes.
Looking back to Merlin, his friend gave him a small nod. Rising to his feet, Arthur looked to each of his men, at each of his friends, before facing his parents with a new sense of authority.
"You may not believe," Arthur said, looking both of his parents in the eye. "But the truth is right here before you."
His father's eyes darted around the room, looking from the knights still bowed, to the warlock who had shown off his magic, before turning back to his son. Without a word the man turned and stormed from the room, causing Arthur's silent hopes of acceptance to shatter behind him.
"You need to leave now, before he rings the police." His mother murmured, her wide eyes staring at him as if she had no idea who he was anymore. That was a hurt he didn't expect to feel in an entirely different way.
"Arthur."
Turning, he found Lancelot racing to reach Merlin, catching the warlock's shoulders as he slumped forward. Despite looking as if he were about to pass out again, the warlock's half lidded eyes glimmered with pride.
"You did good.. but I need somewhere to rest.." Merlin murmured, his eyes falling shut as Lancelot readjusted his hold on him.
"Where are we supposed to find somewhere safe? With the police and Morgana both looking for us?" Leon frowned, running his hands down his face as Arthur's mother suddenly cleared her throat.
"The cabin. We haven't used it in years. Go there now."
"Mother.." Arthur trailed off, looking to the woman who now stared at him with a mixture of love and fear.
"I'll make sure no one looks for you there for the time being, but you must leave. Now, Arthur."
A/N
This chapter definitely got away from me.. but thanks for your patience in how long it took me to post! For those that haven't seen my other story updates, I have a good reason.. I RECENTLY GOT ENGAGED! WHOOHOO! I'm excited lol ANYWAYS I hope you guys enjoyed! I'm also thinking about doing a bonus chapter of the knights going to Merlin's apartment but I dunno.. so let me know if that interests you! We're coming up on the end in just a few more chapters, so hold onto your hats!