Merlin's magic (Oneshots) 1

The worst timeline (part 2)

A.N.://
SO, usually, when I read "Will there be another part", I'm like.... nah. I don't wanna.
But I got like.... a dozen of requests for this one.
And I had exactly two ideas how the story could go. I know there are more ways. But there were only two that interested me.
One was this. The other was a full blown war between Arthur and Merlin.
I'm still debating on writing an alternative version to this chapter. But don't get your hopes up.
Because wars take time. And I think that would be too long for me to write.
Anyway, here's a quick conclusion of the first half of the story :) I hope you're not too disappointed.

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Arthur felt, like the entire world was deafening at those words.
The scream he had let out all those years, upon seeing his best friend dead, grew louder in his head.
Sometimes he forgot it was even there. Other times, like right now, it was so loud, he wondered, if he was there again.
If he was screaming again.
Yet, for once, because Merlin lay beaten in front of him, he could see and hear it clearly. He could imagine those glassy eyes. Mixed with that strange look the alive Merlin just send him.
He looked tired and hurt. But not because of the bruises.

Only the numb sound of golden rain hitting the ground filled the air with vibration. And sound.
And a relieving feeling washed over him. A feeling he didn't deserve.
It was, as if the entire world was sighing.

And then, Arthur took Merlin in, the way he lay there. Golden blood slipping from the wound Arthur had cut in his rip cage.
Bruises forming on his jaw and between the cut clothes, he could see a faint glimpse of skin, where a similar bruise already started to form.
And he could see tiny scars. The beginning of an old burn. It wasn't much. But Arthur didn't dare to imagine how many more scars were there.
There was a story to that. A story Arthur didn't know about. And it felt like someone just smacked him up the head that he SHOULD know. That Merlin was his best friend and those scars were scary old and he SHOULD know what they were from.

Arthur sank down on his knees. The rain dropped on his hair and his nose and filled him with a warm sensation. A healing one. It made no sense.

Arthur had caused the stat Merlin was in. And yet, this was Merlin's counter attack.

All these years he had grieved for his dead friend. All these years he had let fear control his actions, made him kill magic. His regrets for letting magic kill Merlin took over and made him in some way, seek revenge.
His fear of letting this happen to yet another loved one fueled his rage .

And now his friend told him he had returned and he was magic and everything Arthur had done had caused him harm.
Arthur had tainted Merlin's memory.
Arthur had just beat the hell out of him.
Arthur's fault didn't lie in letting magic survive almost twenty years ago. Arthur's fault rooted in his indecision at the time.
Arthur's fault rooted in the decision he made out of hatred after Merlin died.

Arthur's world was dying and it was HIS fault and...
Merlin, among everyone else, was blaming him.

Arthur stared, at Merlin, the words "I wish you had died" echoing in his mind.
"Why didn't I?", Arthur had asked himself time and time again.
It had been an ever reoccurring thought. "Why did it have to be Merlin?", he had asked himself.
"Why not me?"

And now he looked at the man, the sorcerer, the traitor, the man who had lied to him.
Was it worth it?
Following his father's wishes for a man like that? Not to get rid of him. But... for him? Because Arthur had loved him. Had cared for him. Had missed him every second and every day and all the time.
Merlin.... had been everywhere in his absence.