Merthur One-shots

This Weight Of Mine

SELF HARM WARNING

Summary: Merlin intercepts a curse meant for Arthur and ends up suicidally depressed.

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On the sixth day of Merlin’s curse, he threw himself from the battlements. He woke nearly twelve hours later, crumpled at the bottom of the wall. Grimacing, he pushed himself into a seated position and rested his aching head against the cool stone. Death had offered no relief. His heart still felt heavier than a lump of lead, and tears still spilled from his eyes. He had missed all his afternoon chores, and his evening ones too. Arthur would kill him.

Not that it would stick.

Merlin smiled humorously and staggered to his feet. He had to lean against the wall for balance, and he shuffled towards the courtyard with his shoulder brushing against the stones. At night, the courtyard was deserted except for the guards. He tilted his face to the moonlight, letting them see that it was only him. They were used to Merlin coming and going at odd times on errands for Gaius, and they let him in without any trouble.

At night, shadows clung to the corners of the castle. The windowpanes rattled in the drafts, and the torches guttered. Merlin shivered and wrapped his arms around himself as he hurried up the stairs to Gaius’s quarters.

He had hoped to make it to his own room without waking Gaius, but the old man was sitting at the table with a lit candle before him.

Merlin paused in the doorway.

“Hi,” he said.

“Where were you?” Gaius’s voice was quiet, almost covered by the crackling of the flame.

Dead, Merlin almost said.

“Do you think it’s the curse?” said Gaius.

Merlin shrugged. His insides felt ragged, like they’d been sandpapered into shreds. It hurt to breathe, to think. He didn’t know what to do with all this pain. He didn’t think it would ever end.

“Why can’t I die?”

The words came without Merlin’s permission, and he immediately wished he could take them back. The effect on Gaius was immediate.

“What did you say?” he said, wincing as he rose. “Merlin, what have you done?”

“Nothing,” Merlin said tonelessly. “Nothing works.”

With the speed of a man twice his age, Gaius guided Merlin into a chair and bent over him.

“How long have you been feeling like this?”

It was hard to think, like pushing through molasses, but Merlin tried.

“Not right away,” he said. “Three days ago. Two. I don’t know. It hurts, Gaius.” On the last sentence, his voice broke, and he whimpered.

“I fear…” began Gaius, but he didn’t finish. When it became apparent that he wouldn’t, Merlin grunted.

“You fear…” he prompted.