MERLIN / MERTHUR ONESHOTS

Gwaines Comfort

an: no idea where this is going to go
need to write
idk what tho

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Aight so that was interesting for sure, not quite sure why my brain took me down this route.
TW- Death, Sh implications, Dissociation
CW- Past loss and grief

This is intended to be platonic Mergwaine but if you wanna interpret it in some other way do be my guest.
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Merlin sat in the corner of his room, knees tucked up to his chest and eyes vacant. His head rested upon his knees, raven curls loosely flopping over his forehead and ears. The warlocks breath was unsteady, lungs griping tight against his brain.
He felt numb, he couldn't think.

He didn't know what to do.

It wasn't known to him just how long he had been sat there. He couldn't remember if it had been light or dark. Merlin thinks it mustn't have been long, Arthur hadn't come for him yet. Although a small thought tries to reason that is due to the fact he sat here through the night.

He didn't feel tired but his eyes burned and his brain pounded uncomfortably against his skull.
Knees creaking and groaning with aches and a spine that curved in unnatural ways.

Merlin felt heavy.

Head void of thoughts he continued to phase into his own numbness. He didn't move until he heard the birds begin to sing outside of his window, a slight tilt of his head to see the morning light struggle through the darkness.

Merlin could feel a chill.
Skin grazed with goosebumps and cheeks stained with unknown tears.

He moved his hands to cover his eyes, fingers burying desperately in his hair. It was too bright and it stung, yet still the world appeared so dull.

Merlin let himself sink.
Let himself be engulfed within the crashing waves of his mind.
Merlin let himself drown.

Gaius didn't come to check on him.
That hurt.
He wondered if perhaps the older man saw the empty bed and thought nothing more of it.
He wondered if perhaps his mentor had finally had enough of him.
He wondered if Gaius had seen him, all just to turn away with an exasperated sigh playing on his lips.

Arthur checked though.
Sort of.

He had stormed through the castle with a grumpy frown and hair sticking up in all directions against the wind.
The King had thrown the door to Gaius chambers open and yelled for his useless lazy excuse for a manservant.
Merlins breath had hitched in his throat as he heard Arthur approach his room.
The blonde man halted by the oak door, questionable expression painted upon his reddened face.
Merlin heard him mumble some words about the tavern, he wasn't sure, he was too focused on his heart thumping in his ears.

He missed Lancelot.
Lancelot would know what to do.
The most nobel knight always did.

Sometimes Merlin would wrap his arms around his chest and imagine the feeling he recieved as he sunk into Lancelots embrace. He would run his hand through the curled hairs growing on the back of his neck and try and replicate his best friends touch.

He felt so lonely.

He felt guilty too.

Merlin felt guilty that Lancelots departure wasn't the cause of his arising issue. He felt guilty that Lancelot wasn't there to cure him.

Gwaine had stumbled in next, he smelt him before he heard him.
Merlins nose wrinkled from where he sat, deep aroma of ale, sweat and smoke.
It was comforting, in a way.
Merlin longed to reach out to him, run his hands up the mans back as he attempted to keep his grip on reality.
Merlin longed to call his name, but his mouth refused to form the letters.