When albion needs it most

Chapter 11

Chapter Text

Please Don't Leave Me, P!nk

Merlin woke up with a familiar taste in his mouth. He snapped his lips, trying to erase the disgusting taste that came with a morning after way too much herbs. He opened his eyes, sequencing them at the bright light hurting his retina. He was on the floor of the bathroom, hugging the towel he had cried in as he had fallen asleep the night before. He could hear his heartbeat in the veins of his head. His mind was clouded. Why had he slept by the toilet seat? He wasn't sick. He didn't feel sick. He hadn't been sick.

He remembered that he had tried to control the withdrawal, taking a simple puff of herbs to stop his body's pain. But he hadn't taken just one inhale. He had taken more, much more. He pulled his hand on his forehead.

Arthur! His mind had clicked. He had fought with Arthur. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck he thought remembering just how badly he had screwed up. Tears flowed down his eyes as he saw the images of yesterday's actions replay in his head. He had used magic against Arthur. The King had went through so much to accept him, to trust in the thing he had been raised to fear, only to be betrayed by his closest friend and lover.

Merlin didn't have time to cry. He panicked as he remembered that Arthur had left. The King who had no idea of how the modern world worked had stepped outside and spent the night away, hurt and betrayed. The warlock picked himself up, tripping as he got out of the room in tears.

Where was he supposed to begin his look? He didn't care he had to find the blonde.

How could he have let himself be so stupid? Arthur was all he cared for, all he lived for, and now he had screwed that up. He had left and the warlock had no idea where to. He would have used his magic to trace him down if his powers hadn't been out of whack. He had taken enough to screw up his senses, leaving them weak and unreliable.

He didn't find Arthur in the streets around his house. Worried, he started to think of the worst. The warlock had check the nearest hospital and called the morgue. He was that worried for his friend's safety.

The sky began to turn dark and Merlin was now in a full on panic. Still no news about where Arthur had been. He went back home, going to pick a torch and coat, ready to bring warmth to his friend if needed.

As he entered the flat he found him. Arthur was standing by the window, looking at the outside. He wiped off the single tear of relief that poured down his cheek. The blonde was safe, and for now, that was all he needed.

"Arthur" he exclaimed as he slowly walked closer. "Arthur I am sorry. I should have told you the truth. I never wanted to-"

"Shut up Merlin" he coldly replied, emotionless.

Slowly, he turned his face towards brunet. Merlin's heart sank as he saw the expression in Arthur's eyes. Never had he seen so much hurt in the sea of blue depth, not even when his father had died nor when Guinevere had betrayed his trust,. The look was even worse than the one Merlin had received when Arthur first found out about his magic. Those eyes, he could see in those eyes all the pain, making him regret his mistaken actions even more. It made him want to fall dead on the spot and end not only his pain, but the knight's also.

But he couldn't coward out. Arthur was all he had, all he ever wanted. He was his destiny, and nothing would make him give up on fixing the person for who he was destined to serve. Taking another step, he opened his mouth, trying to explain.

"Merlin, don't" the King cut him off. "I don't want to hear it. Just shut up"

Arthur turned his back to the warlock, moving towards the kitchen. The warlock was left behind, alone. He called the King's name, his voice breaking as he pronounced it, hoping that he would return. But the blonde never came back. He stayed in the kitchen, placing himself as far as he could from the other man. "Please" the warlock begged. "Say something"

"Get out" an annoyed voice shouted from behind the wall.

"Please" he begged

"Get out" the King shouted. Tears silently filled the sorcerer's blue eyes

"Arthur" he whispered, broken. The blonde rushed back into the living room. "If you won't get out I will" he screamed as he walked into the bedroom, locking the slammed door behind him. Merlin pulled on the knob, hoping that maybe, for some reason, he could get in. Crumbling to the floor, he cried at the foot of the door, mumbling please to the blonde over and over again. He received nothing more than cold silence in return.

***

Arthur had accepted the teaching job at the fair, leaving almost every morning for his day of work. He spent all of his time out in the field where he practiced his fighting skills. The warlock had tried to follow him at first, but had quickly been told he couldn't come in that section of the park during regular hours. Only the workers were allowed to get that close to the historical monument and that tourist would have to wait until the fair's public hours during the weekend to join.

So Merlin spent most of his time alone in the flat he used to call home, waiting for the moment Arthur would come back, terrified that he wouldn't. The first few nights he almost didn't. On his first day of work Monday morning, Arthur had been out all day and had spent most of the night training by his own in the field, only returning after the sun was long gone and the starts began to twinkle in the cold night sky.

"I was about to go look for you" Merlin explained when he bumped heavily into Arthur's walking body at the entrance of the flat. He had carelessly tied his shoes and half of his coat was on his back as he struggled to get his arm into the other sleeve. "I was worried for you" he explained. The King didn't answer. He barely acknowledged that someone was speaking to him, rushing into the bathroom to take a shower. Merlin's existence was denied. As the water fell out of the shower tap, tears slowly rolled down the warlock's face. He sat on the couch, pulling his knees into his chest. With his face crushed into his legs, the brunet broke.

Everything he had done had been for Arthur. Every day of his life since his mother had made him move unto the citadel was dedicated to working with him, for him, in service of him. One detail, one flaw, one night had ruined it all.

The worst was that Merlin had done all he could to avoid it. He had been working, studying, searching for something to avoid this, only to have it blown away in one night. It wasn't the high that had frustrated Arthur, it was what the sorcerer had done when he was under the influence, and that couldn't be blamed on the drugs. He held the responsibility and he honestly did not know how to fix things, if it was even capable of being fixed.

But he would try; he would try to be forgiven at least. He could never have the King like he had him before. He would never feel the love that he had felt only a few nights ago. Arthur hated him now. And that thought, that truth, made him sob even louder.