One is Broken, One is Bleeding

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A/N: "Arthurs and Alternate Realities" prequel. Dark!Merlin. Very, very, dark story as a whole actually.

. . . . .

"You're not him."

"Merlin - "

"You're not HIM!" It is jagged, fractured, a howl of denial and pain and grief stricken rage. "Don't lie to me. You made a mistake. I know. You're good, though, I'll give you that. You almost had me believing for a minute."

He has lived hundreds of lives. Now that he is playing out their futures, he cannot always keep track of which reality each story belonged to. That it was Merlin made it harder. It was so easy to forget that he didn't remember his other selves.

He had forgotten. He will pay the price.

He can't move. The vines have wrapped around him like steel manacles.

"You made me hope. And then you took it away. You're a fake."

The broken man, the broken words, the lie that is a truth, hurt more than what comes next.

Which is quite an accomplishment because what comes next feels like ground glass is throbbing through his veins and bursting through his skin before cascading molten over him.

. . . . .

There was a prophecy. There always was. It was Destiny's version of mission instructions.

That was what he used to think. Before.

Before the mission where she had forced him to kill Merlin. Before the mission where he had saved the world but failed his friends, where they had been infected and gone mad, and he'd had to shoot them all.

It had gone against her plans, but she had been pleased. She said the new version was even better.

That's when he realized it wasn't a mission. It was a script, one Destiny cooed over in twisted delight.

. . . . .

He isn't sure how long it's been since he's seen the sun.

He's even less sure how he will fight with only one hand.

He doesn't hate Merlin. He hates someone he cannot remember but knows he will see when this life is done. He hates them for doing this to both of them.

Arthur is bound, and only Merlin has the key.

Merlin is imprisoned, and he's beginning to wonder if anyone will ever be able to free him.

The darkness torments them both, but Arthur refuses to let Merlin go. In a throat hoarse from screams, he picks up where he left off.

" . . . I've never seen you so happy as you were at the coronation. You placed the crown on me yourself, and you whispered jokes in my head whenever the ceremony got too tedious."

"Shut up! Shut up! You're not real, you're not him, you can't be him - "

For the first time it occurs to Arthur that even if he could convince Merlin now, the knowing would break him.

. . . . .

Arthur screamed himself hoarse at Destiny. They are not toys for her amusement.

She punished him, of course. She locked him away and made him wait.

"You'll be later than he was expecting," she told him, and he didn't have to ask who she meant. "He'll have gone mad. Dark. He'll have conquered the world to draw you in, but by the time you're there, he'll have faced too many impostors to believe you. You'll have to kill him again. I think I'll make the prophecy rhyme this time."

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