(no subject)
Who: Moira, Merlin, Arthur, Zak
What: Healing Arthur
When: Feb 9th
Where: The Clinic?
Rating: Low
Status: Complete
"So you'll be able to help him?" Merlin asked desperately as he led Moira into the room and to the chair beside Arthur's bed. All day, and there'd been barely any change. Moira was his only chance. Magic was his only chance.
Moira was not a novice at healing nearly impossible injuries. Her mum had done it much more skillfully than she had, but she was good at it. And at the same time, she didn't want to give him any sort of false hope, just in case there wasn't anything she could do. Biting her lip, Moira hesitantly nodded. "I'm reasonably certain, Merlin. I just...it's possible that it's beyond me. I'm going to try my absolute best, though. What exactly are his injuries?"
Eyes trained on Arthur's pale face, Merlin nodded. He understood what Moira was saying, that Arthur's saving was not written in blood. But he wasn't going to give up. He'd sworn to protect Arthur, and that was what he'd do. He went around the bed to stand at Arthur's other side and finally glanced up to answer Moira. "Em... broken... broken pelvis, and partly crushed skull." He choked a little on the words.
She nodded. "I can set the bones healing. They won't be completely better immediately. Bones are bloody hard to fix. But I can start them healing faster. And I'll look at the internal bleeding and the like. And he just hasn't woken up?" Moira sat down, biting her lip again, casting out her senses. The injuries were mostly routine. It would take a fair bit out of her, yes, but it was doable. It was getting his mind out from wherever it was hiding that was the real issue.
"As long as he lives," Merlin replied softly, reaching out to lay his hand on Arthur's. "Do whatever you can after that. Just... just let him live." He shook his head in answer to the question. "No. Hasn't even stirred."
Nodding again, Moira pulled her hair back. "I probably won't be incredibly aware of my surroundings for a while. I'm going to heal the injuries first and work on the mental part second, sound fair?"
Merlin squeezed Arthur's hand lightly and nodded. "Yeah. Sounds good."
The healing process was, at this point, almost routine. After healing the injuries to the best of her ability, she blinked, mildly woozy. Moira moved her gaze to Merlin, unsure of the amount of time passed. "Physical injuries are done."
It had to have been about two hours, and Merlin had kept his hand clasped to Arthur's the entire time, barely glancing away. He'd laced their fingers during that time, though he didn't really remember doing it. When Moira spoke, he looked up at her slowly, then back down at Arthur. He really did look better. "Thank you," he said quietly, with a hint of a smile. Looking at Moira again, he noticed how weary she appeared. "Are you all right?"
Moira nodded. The physical injuries didn't take too much out of her. She wouldn't be able to stand for a few minutes, but that wasn't an issue at the moment, was it? She still had to do the mental portion. That was set to be much more trying. "You're welcome."
Arthur's color was returning and his face seemed to relax, but still his eyes did not open. With his free hand, Merlin pushed some of the matted blond hair from the prince's face and glanced worriedly at Moira. "If his head is healed, why won't he wake up?"
"His physical injuries are healed. I'm not sure where his consciousness is hiding. One thing at a time, yeah? I figured that would be my next task. Wandering around in that subconscious of his, trying to bring him back to the world of the living." She gave Merlin a reassuring smile. It was barely noticeable that she was tired.
"Yeah," Merlin answered with a sigh. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sound ungrateful. Honestly, I owe you... everything for doing this. I'm just... just worried."
"Don't apologize. I understand what you're feeling." More than he knew perhaps. Moira hardly needed to cast her senses to feel the waves of hurt, anxiety, and pain that were emanating from Merlin. "This could take longer. The subconscious is a tricky place. And temporally, it doesn't quite follow normal rules."
Merlin nodded. "I understand."
Moira turned her attention back to Arthur and let herself into his subconscious. It took a while to find him. Murky in there. "Hello?" she called when she saw a semi-familiar blonde head.
"Oh. It's you." Arthur halted his movements, lowering his sword by his side with an irritated look. "What do you want?"
She almost laughed. "Just to save you is all," Moira replied with an amused look on her face.
"I don't need saving," Arthur sneered, pink staining his cheeks at the look he was receiving. Girls. "I need practice. Something I cannot get with you standing there."
"Where are we then?" she asked looking around. "And what exactly do you need practice doing?"
Arthur glanced around the lush forested landscape and grinned wistfully. "Camelot."
Moira looked around. "So this is what Camelot looks like," she mused, taking a moment to view the surroundings. "I wish you could stay, but you've got people to get back to."
"What do you mean?" A strangely calm look filtered over Arthur's features as he gazed at her.
"Do you remember what happened?" Moira asked quietly.
"Of course."
"What, praytell, would that be?"
"I slipped."
She raised her eyebrow. "And ended up in Camelot."
He glared and said nothing.
"We've got to get you back. Everyone's worried about you."
"Merlin is worried about me." Arthur arched a brow and shook his head.
"Amongst other people, yes." She crossed her arms. "But we've got to get you back. Don't you want to wake up?"
Arthur's disbelieving snort said enough. "What for?"
"To live. For Merlin. Your father. You would rather stay here forever and have everyone worry about you? Never see them again?"
"I'm not waking up." Not for her. Not because she was begging him to. He didn't particularly like her.
"On purpose?"
"Why else wouldn't I be?"
"You could have been lost in your subconscious, unable to find a way out."
"I'm not lost."
Moira paused. Boys. "So you want to stay locked in your head forever. By yourself."
"Of course I don't." Arthur groaned and ran a hand down his face.
"Then what are you waiting for?" Moira screwed her face up. "Why don't you like me?" She didn't know him long enough for him to legitimately dislike her.
Arthur gave a suffering sigh and sheathed the blade of his sword. An exasperated look crossed his face when he said, "I'm waiting for Merlin."
"Well Merlin sent me. So hop to it and then you can see him." Moira smiled innocently at him. Goddess, he was stubborn.
"No doubt he did." And yet Arthur made no move to...move. He ran a hand back through his hair and sauntered over to a tree, plopping down at its base. "Now tell him to come get me."
Moira raised an eyebrow. "That's not how it works." She walked over to him, crossing her arms. "Do you really want to cause him pain?"
"He can." He glanced up at her distinctly unimpressed with her question.
"If he could, he would have already. He's in such intense pain right now because he doesn't know how. It's not the simplest skill in the world. Takes a fair few years to perfect. I don't know if it could be done back when you were from."
"Such a girl," Arthur muttered, wiping his fingers over an eye. "He is smart." He frowned. "Are you incapable of teaching him?"
"Yes, I am a girl. Is there a problem with that?" Moira nodded. "Believe me, I know he's smart." Goddess, the stories about him that remain... "I could teach him, yes, but at that point it might be too late. How about I promise to teach him when we get back so if this ever happens again he can save you."
Arthur rolled his eyes. "Not you." God but this was testing his patience. "Tell him I'll be waiting for him once he's stopped being such a pansy."
She gaped at him. "What's wrong with me?" Why was he being so blatantly ungrateful for her help? Moira had never encountered someone who was so unwilling to be helped.
"You annoy me."
"You don't know me well enough to be annoyed by you." The girl sat down across from him, cross-legged. "What about me annoys you?"
"I don't have to explain myself to you," he sneered, facing forward.
"What better things do you have to do?" Moira raised an eyebrow.
"Nothing."
"Exactly. So explain to me what about me that is so innately irritating and we can be on our way, and you can be back with Merlin and everything will be perfect and fine." And she could sleep. She wasn't exhausted now, but the longer she stayed in his head, the more exhausted she'd be when she got out.
Arthur said exactly nothing.
Moira put her hand to her head in frustration. "What is the matter? Goddess, I don't understand boys at all."
He snorted.
"Do you want me to drag you back? Kicking and screaming? I can use my magick if it's necessary."
"Can you?"
"Yes, I can, but it's not exactly polite. I try and make it a point to not be an arse." Unlike him.
"Fine."
Moira put her head in her hands for a second. Merlin was going to have to thank her profusely for this. She hated using magick against people's wills. Standing up, she looked at him for one last chance to get up on his own.
Which Arthur met with a distinct lack of NOT moving.
Moira rolled her eyes. "Fine." She levitated him a few inches from the ground and started moving, along with him, toward the direction she'd come in.
Arthur flailed, of course he flailed, when he suddenly found himself floating ABOVE the ground. "What the--? Are you mad?! Put me down!"
"No, I'm not mad," she replied. "I told you that I could use my magick if you wouldn't come on." She felt a twinge of guilt. But she didn't put him down. Instead, she stood still and he merely floated. "This is for your own good. Whine about it once you're awake."
She was worse than Morgana. Arthur wasn't even certain that was possible! "I demand you put me down."
"Will you come if I put you down?" Moira raised her eyebrows.
Arthur gritted his teeth.
"Is that a yes?" Moira moved another inch or two.
"All right, yes. Just...put me down!"
Containing a smile, Moira slowly put him down.
He shot her an irritated scowl as he straightened his tunic and flattened down his hair.
Moira would have apologized, but she thought it would go the wrong way. She shrugged, continuing on.
Arthur followed after her at a stilted gait, wanting to brush by her and take the lead and stop walking all together. He did neither.
They continued on in silence for a while. "So why don't you like me?" Moira asked as they nearly had approached their end.
"You don't need to know everything about me." He stared at the *INSERT SWIRLING VORTEX OF DOOM HERE...until Britt figures out what it really is* disconcertedly. Did she really expect him to go through that?
"This is more about me, I would say," she murmured. Moira didn't do well with people not liking her. Call it a character flaw.
"And I wouldn't."
Moira rolled her eyes. Whatever. She stepped toward the exit. "Fine."
Arthur edged nearer their exit with a dubious expression. "Is this safe?"
She nodded, holding out her hand. She didn't really expect him to take it. "Yes."
He didn't. Not right away. "You're sure." Arthur warily placed his hand in hers, barely cupping his hand.
"Positive." Moira gave him a small smile as she walked toward it, taking him along with her. Walking through it, Moira recognized the familiar feeling of going back into the conscious land. She opened her eyes and let out a small groan. Goddess, was she exhausted. How long had it been? She glanced over at Arthur and then Merlin.
Ten minutes had dragged into fifteen, which had spilled over into twenty, which had somehow crawled through an hour. Then two, then three... four, five... six.... And still, Moira did not wake from her trance. Still, Arthur did not stir. Whatever hope Merlin had been grasping when Moira had arrived here was beginning to slip, and his eyes glassed over as he slowly let it seep into his heart that he may have failed Arthur for good. Grasping Arthur's hand in both of his and pressing it to his forehead, Merlin finally lost resolve, and began to softly cry.
Lost in the deep, numbing sorrow, he barely realized when he lost the energy to remain sitting upright. Head to waist lying facedown on the bed beside Arthur, Merlin fell into a tearful sleep.
"Merlin," Moira called weakly. She couldn't lift her arms without the risk of falling out of the chair. She used what was left of her magick to tug on the back of his shirt. Goddess did that take a lot out of her.
Arthur's everything burned as he shifted into awareness. He groaned, a low, scratchy sound while blinking back the sleep from his eyes. The white washed room was unfamiliar to him, but the weight at his side wasn't. Blue eyes flicked tiredly to the side to confirm exactly what he thought he'd see. His mouth pulled into a thin line-bad idea, his lips cracked-when he saw part of Merlin's face. What now?
In a whirlwind of a moment, too much happened all at once. First, he was tugged from his sleep by a quiet voice straining to say his name, and a light pull on his shirt. He glanced up, expecting to asked Moira what had happened, heart plummeting as he remembered that Arthur wouldn't be waking up. And then, he heard a groan, and it was a groan he'd heard a thousand and one times before, and would recognize anywhere at any moment. His heart sped up too rapidly to even consider that he might have imagined it. "Arthur...?" he whispered, then lifted his head and saw the eyes. The open blue eyes. "Oh God. Arthur!"
With a choked but joyful laugh, Merlin had thrown his arms around Arthur as best he could, considering that the prince was lying on his back. "You're alive!"
Moira smiled at Merlin's enthusiasm. "You know he's a complete prat," she said weakly, closing her eyes as she leaned against the chair. There was no way she was going to be able to get home by herself. Fantastic.
Merlin laughed again, embrace unfaltering, and nodded. He was. He really, really was. A complete, utter, royal prat. A breathing, waking, living royal prat. He couldn't even answer Moira's comment in words. He was too overwhelmed... by tears, by laughter, by relief and joy... love.
"Merlin..." Arthur's voice struck out at a soft rasp. He didn't say anything else. It would sound wholly unimpressive if that was how he was going to be talking. Rolling his eyes, he thread his fingers into Merlin's thick, black hair and sighed. You're such a girl.
Merlin was almost positive Arthur was thinking about how much of a girl he was at that moment, probably on the verge of saying it too. But he didn't care. Not at all. In fact, somehow the knowledge only brightened his grin. "Even your unconscious self is a prat to complete strangers," he quipped, wondering how insulting he could possibly sound right now. He shook his head and tightened his arms. "I thought I'd lost you."
"You." Arthur cleared his throat, wincing when he coughed air and pain. He rubbed his throat as best he could. "Are an idiot."
"Are you alright?" Merlin asked immediately, completely disregarding the familiar retort and bringing a hand up to lay on Arthur's throat. "Are you in pain?"
"I got trampled by a death mechanism." A car. Whatever it was called. He still could remember the bright lights and searing pain.
Merlin winced, really not like hearing it put that way. He stroked his thumb lightly along Arthur's throat and shook his head. "What exactly happened?"
Arthur swallowed roughly, fingers tensing in Merlin's hair. "I fell."
"You fell?" Merlin repeated slowly, not missing Arthur's subtle mood shift. Was that nervousness? Fear? "And then one of those... cars... hit you." He and Jayne had only assumed that part, he realized, after finding Arthur lying in the street.
Instead of answering the question, Arthur closed his eyes and settled back onto his pillow. He couldn't recall. And he hated that.
In a mix between needing a more comfortable position and needing to comfort Arthur, Merlin sat up, climbed completely onto the bed, and settled down again. "It's okay. You don't have to think about it right now." Come to think of it, *I* don't really want to think about it right now.
"Do shut up, Merlin." Arthur sent a withering, well, he supposed was meant to be withering, glare at Merlin. "Some of us are dying here."
Merlin glared right back, and his was every bit as unamused as he meant it to be. "Don't say that," he snapped, heart clenching as he turned his head back up to face the ceiling.
"Don't tell me you were actually that worried." A pensive look fluttered across his face as he turned his head to get a better look at Merlin.
Narrowing his eyes, Merlin glanced over at Arthur again. "Your skull was half crushed in, Arthur. You were barely breathing, you were practically drowning in your own blood, and you didn't wake up for almost twenty-four hours. So yes, Sire, I may have found some cause for concern. I'll be sure not to make that mistake again."
"I apologize." He could have sounded less exasperated about it, true, but then, he didn't think he could quite bring himself to be serious about...anything in that moment. Logically, he saw no reason why he managed to stay alive if what Merlin said was true. Arthur found it easier not to think about it.
"Don't," Merlin sighed, shutting his eyes briefly. "Just-- just don't do it again, alright?" Ha. As if Arthur had chosen to walk in front of a bloody car and be attacked by it. Still, it terrified Merlin that there were dangers here he did not know, could not have protected Arthur from. Almost hadn't been able to save him. And a life without Arthur in this strange, confusing world... a life without Arthur anywhere... he'd said it to Gaius once, and knew it now more than ever. It was unthinkable.
"I didn't..." Arthur grunted and attempted to relax his body. "You found me then?"
Biting his lip, Merlin nodded as he turned his head again to meet Arthur's eyes. "You'd been gone for a long time, so I went looking..." he didn't realize until he'd actually spoken how choked the words would sound. But the memory... he shuddered. "God, Arthur, I was so scared."
Arthur stared at Merlin for a long moment as he tried to understand him. It was utterly impossible to do. Merlin remained as infuriating as ever. Any retort he formed died upon Merlin's confession and Arthur found himself with a sudden lack of things to say.
"Sorry," Merlin said quickly, realizing he must have made Arthur uncomfortable. He managed to do that often, didn't he. Even more so since admitting how he felt about him. Most of the time, Merlin was convinced that he was even more unclear and uncertain about his boundaries with Arthur than he had been before making what should have been an illuminating confession. "I know, stop being a girl. I'm just... just happy you're alright."
"Did I say anything?" Arthur gasped when he tried to turn onto his side and gave up on that idea immediately. He cursed softly under his breath, fingers digging into the bed sheets as he breathed through the burst of pain.
"Arthur!" On a reflex that came with hearing the prince in sudden pain, Merlin's hand had shot forward to rest on Arthur's side, where he had been trying to lay. He laid the other on Arthur's shoulder and squeezed as he inched closer. "Are you alright?" he asked quietly after giving him a moment to breathe, carefully watching his face for signs that the pain might worsen. "Do you need me to get the physician?"
"I'm fine." He just would not be trying that again for a very long time. Arthur gritted his teeth together and tried to get comfortable without moving his lower half. His eyes flickered up to Merlin's face, and he frowned. "No."
Though he didn't particularly believe that Arthur was 'fine,' given the strained expression on his face, Merlin nodded. "Let me know if it gets worse," he told him, even though he knew Arthur wouldn't. He wished more than he ever had since they'd arrived here that he had his spell book. He'd find a spell to cure Arthur's pain, take that look off his face and out of his eyes. But because he couldn't, he did what he could only hope was the next best thing. He lifted his hand from Arthur's shoulder and brushed some hair away from the prince's forehead, then lowered his head to place his lips there instead.
"You keep doing that," Arthur murmured, eyes fluttering tiredly.
Merlin lifted his head again and looked down at the prince, who suddenly seemed to be struggling against his eyelids. Whatever medicines the physicians had given him must have been starting to take hold. "Doing what?"
"Kissing me." Blunt and drowsy. Arthur tried to stifle a yawn as exhaustion finally caught up with him. One day asleep and he was ready for another one.
Blushing slightly, Merlin snorted. He supposed he did do that a lot now. Usually with very little thought or hesitation. "Sorry," he said, even though he mostly wasn't. "Guess you're just hard to resist, Sire."
Arthur smirked, but it was half-hearted at best. He would remember that later. "Naturally. Who would want to resist me after all?" Merlin's friend, Moira, could, Arthur had made sure of that. It felt a bit like mocking Gwen with full intention, only, Guinevere could not unexpectedly suspend him in mid-air.
"Right, of course, Sire." Merlin rolled his eyes, feeling the heavy weight in his chest begin to lift, maybe just a little. What had happened, and the fact that Arthur was still lying here hurting, still scared him powerfully. But Arthur was awake now, and would be alright, and here they were teasing each other like everything was normal. "Anyway, if it's such a bother to you, maybe you should try returning the favor once in a while."
"Are you giving me orders, Merlin?" Arthur would smack him if he could get his arm to raise.
Smiling crookedly, Merlin shrugged. "Not at all, Sire. Merely a suggestion. Perhaps even a request."
Arthur's sighed in a long suffering manner. "A request?"
"Call it compensation for saving your life? Again?" Merlin wasn't sure why he was feeling so comfortable and bold about this right now. Maybe coming so close to losing Arthur for the first time since... whatever their new relationship was had started... had made him realize that waiting around all the time for Arthur to stop acting like a prat was nothing but a great waste of time. And they'd wasted enough already.
"I see. You're looking for a reward." Arthur cupped the back of Merlin's head, fingers spearing through thick black hair to hold his attention. "In that case, you may want to wait."
"I may? Why is that, my lord?" Merlin asked with a growing smile and a raised eyebrow.
"Because I'm about to fall asleep," Arthur lifted an eyebrow and yawned for emphasis, though it became real seconds later. He couldn't help it. Every single part of his body was sore in a muffled way and his head felt stuffed full of wool. "And I wouldn't want to upset your fragile state of mind more by having you think you've killed me again."
"Prat," Merlin retorted, though he had to admit to himself, the supposed insult probably didn't have much effect while he was stroking through Arthur's hair and probably looking at him like he didn't ever want to look away. "Well then, I suppose I'll just have to go back to the castle. Can't have the idiot servant interrupting your royal nap."
"You're not staying?" Arthur tried to believe he didn't sound as startled as he doubtlessly did. He swallowed thickly, which hurt, mind you, but his throat had become clogged and he hadn't had much other choice.
Merlin raised an eyebrow again, fighting a smirk. "Oh, I'm sorry, would you prefer that I stayed? I was under the impression that my being here was some sort of a burden for you, Sire."
"I'm going to see to it that you regret those words, Merlin. Later." Much later, probably weeks later, if he recalled it. Arthur closed his eyes, because looking at the inside of his eyelids was a much better decision than taking the piss out of Merlin. "You're staying. You might as well make yourself comfortable." Implying, of course, that Merlin hadn't already.
The circumstances that had led them to this situation notwithstanding, Merlin couldn't help but feel the slightest bit of satisfaction, knowing that Arthur didn't want him to leave. Even if he still was an ass. "I don't know, Sire, it just doesn't seem quite right to me. I save your life and you will not grant me the only token of gratitude I've asked for? And now I'm expected to devote the rest of my evening to watching you sleep?"
"I would expect you would find that reward enough." Shut up, Merlin.
With a long sigh, Merlin said, "Fine. If you won't relinquish what I want, I suppose I'll just have to take it myself. Again." So he kissed Arthur, because really, was Arthur expecting him not to at this point? He grinned down at him afterward. "There, now was that really so horrible, Sire?"
Arthur's expression remained flat and unamused as he opened his eyes once again. "Are you always impatient, Merlin?"
"Perhaps I've learned from the best, your highness," Merlin retorted, now realizing that Arthur's behavior probably wasn't as much of an act as he'd believed. Well, wonderful, now he felt like a complete dolt. He lowered himself down and off Arthur and settled alongside him. "Sorry," he added, sincerity in his voice now.
"God, you never--" Grunting in frustration, Arthur wrestled weakly to pull Merlin back where he just was. And it was more of a struggle than he'd ever wish to repeat again. He wasn't used to being weak. He didn't like it at all. He only hoped he was better before his father found out about this. He could only imagine. "Now don't move and let me sleep."
It was a surprise, both Arthur's snap and his action. Merlin certainly didn't resist it, instead simply nodded and looked at Arthur's tired face a moment longer before settling himself down right where he was. He exhaled slowly, the return of quiet reminding him of exactly where they were and why, and the heavy trunk of emotions that came with it. For several moments, he listened to the sound of Arthur's steady breathing and heartbeat, trying to reassure himself. Still, the need to say one more thing- just in case- would not leave him be. "Arthur?"
"What?"
Securing an arm around the prince, mindful of the wounds in his side, Merlin let the statement go, quietly. "I love you."
Arthur's cheek puffed out. "I know."
Though it would have been nice to hear it back, Merlin had not been expecting to, nor did it particularly bother him that he hadn't. He didn't say it because he needed to hear it in return. He said it because, because God, he could have lost Arthur today. And he needed Arthur to have absolutely no doubt of what Merlin felt for him should the absolute worst ever happen. Arthur's reply settled that need well enough, and Merlin could more fully relax against him, smiling. "Good."
"Are you going to let me sleep now?" How pathetic was that? Arthur sneered at his own word choice, or would have, if he had the strength or alertness to force himself to sneer, "I shouldn't have to be subject to your will. "
Merlin snorted, nodding against Arthur's chest. "Yes. Go to sleep." He wasn't tired himself. In fact, the last thing he wanted to do right now was waste a moment of his time reunited with Arthur by sleeping. But still, he understood that the prince must be absolutely exhausted, and he did feel a flutter of guilt for having kept him awake. But then again, he'd needed it, needed that time. And despite his protests, he was fairly certain Arthur understood that. Merlin kept his word and was quiet after that, but let his hand move in gentle circles where it lay on Arthur's side.
*
Zak got the text message on his phone a little while ago. There had been an emergency. An accident. It freaked him out at first, but then he read the rest of it. Moira was okay. Thank the gods. But she'd be helping..and would need someone to pick her up. He could manage that. So the youngest Adama headed to the hospital, which he never really liked, to get Moira. He had been in the clinic before, when the earthquake struck, and reminded himself that this was much the same as that. Finding out where Moira and the others were wasn't too terribly difficult. So he waited, assessing the situation quietly. And staring at the witch to figure out how she was doing.
Moira's senses were raw and dulled, all at the same time. So it took her longer than normal to notice that Zak was in the room, but when she did it was an acute notice. She opened her eyes, turning around very slowly to Zak. She gave him a very weak smile.
He grinned a little, the grin belying the fact that he was incredibly worried. "Hey." He glanced at the two young men, eyebrows lifting a little. There were things that he found a little strange, but figured that it was just Earth. So many young men with young men (or older men). Odd. Earth. A mental shrug was given. Whoever made people happy, he imagined. Then he went around to Moira and pulled her gently into a hug. "How are you doing?"
Were Moira more with it, she would have noticed the worry. Presently she was too exhausted and her senses, along with her other powers, were too dull and painful to be as finely attuned as they normally were. She draped her arms around Zak lightly. It was all she could manage, closing her eyes again when in the hug. "Perfect," she replied, her voice obviously worn and exhausted. But she was telling the truth. She'd managed to help Merlin, and Zak was here.
He pushed through her hair lightly and then looked at the boy who wasn't hurt. "Did you need anything else? I should probably get her home." Zak looked at Moira then, wondering if he'd get any protest.
Moira raised her eyebrows ever so slightly. She wasn't about to protest. It took too much energy. And besides, her work was done. She'd healed Arthur's injuries, gotten him out of that ruddy mind of his. All she wanted to do was sleep for...about a week. That sounded good. If she had been able to walk, she'd want to do a circle, but really, Moira just wanted to sleep. Perhaps drink some tea eventually...
Good. There was no protesting. He moved slightly, shifting to pick Moira up. Even though she was tall, Zak still had a bit of height on her so managed to do so. And should be a taxi waiting outside. He nodded to the boy quietly and took the witch out to go home. Sure enough, there was a taxi out there, into which Zak got her into. Then he slid in and gave the driver Moira's address.
"You didn't have to carry me," Moira managed to say quietly, after they were already in the cab. On the contrary, she wasn't sure she'd have been able to stand up, let alone make it to the cab.
"Makes me feel all manly or something." He grinned lightly. Zak thought that she wouldn't have been able to make it. It wasn't a long drive, really, but much needed. Once they got to her house, he got out and went around to the other side, picking her up again. "Humour me, won't you?" And with that, they were going inside to get Moira into bed.
"Does it," she murmured, leaning her head against him for the drive. She couldn't even sufficiently scrunch her nose at him when he asked her to humor him. It ended up as a half scrunched half exhausted face. "Thank you," she replied as they were approaching her room. She would have argued if she'd thought it was at all possible that she could make it up the stairs. Or even across the hall. Goddess, was Zak good to her. And carrying her as if she were nothing...
Half of it was just that he could, and half was adrenaline. Or something to that effect, anyway. He smiled boyishly when she thanked him and placed her in her bed before shrugging up a shoulder. "You'd do the same for me. Since you can lift my weight a few times over." Reminded. Then Zak sat on the side of the bed and pushed her hair back. "Get some rest, Moira."
She smiled at him again. It was genuine, but barely there. A weak smile from someone who'd expended all of her energy from the day (or more accurately the week). "I would." He shouldn't doubt it for a second. She reached over, with more effort than it should have taken - as if she'd been running a marathon or twelve -, and put her hand on top of Zak's. The one that hadn't pushed her hair back. She gave it a light squeeze. "I think I can handle that. Especially if some means loads.
What: Healing Arthur
When: Feb 9th
Where: The Clinic?
Rating: Low
Status: Complete
"So you'll be able to help him?" Merlin asked desperately as he led Moira into the room and to the chair beside Arthur's bed. All day, and there'd been barely any change. Moira was his only chance. Magic was his only chance.
Moira was not a novice at healing nearly impossible injuries. Her mum had done it much more skillfully than she had, but she was good at it. And at the same time, she didn't want to give him any sort of false hope, just in case there wasn't anything she could do. Biting her lip, Moira hesitantly nodded. "I'm reasonably certain, Merlin. I just...it's possible that it's beyond me. I'm going to try my absolute best, though. What exactly are his injuries?"
Eyes trained on Arthur's pale face, Merlin nodded. He understood what Moira was saying, that Arthur's saving was not written in blood. But he wasn't going to give up. He'd sworn to protect Arthur, and that was what he'd do. He went around the bed to stand at Arthur's other side and finally glanced up to answer Moira. "Em... broken... broken pelvis, and partly crushed skull." He choked a little on the words.
She nodded. "I can set the bones healing. They won't be completely better immediately. Bones are bloody hard to fix. But I can start them healing faster. And I'll look at the internal bleeding and the like. And he just hasn't woken up?" Moira sat down, biting her lip again, casting out her senses. The injuries were mostly routine. It would take a fair bit out of her, yes, but it was doable. It was getting his mind out from wherever it was hiding that was the real issue.
"As long as he lives," Merlin replied softly, reaching out to lay his hand on Arthur's. "Do whatever you can after that. Just... just let him live." He shook his head in answer to the question. "No. Hasn't even stirred."
Nodding again, Moira pulled her hair back. "I probably won't be incredibly aware of my surroundings for a while. I'm going to heal the injuries first and work on the mental part second, sound fair?"
Merlin squeezed Arthur's hand lightly and nodded. "Yeah. Sounds good."
The healing process was, at this point, almost routine. After healing the injuries to the best of her ability, she blinked, mildly woozy. Moira moved her gaze to Merlin, unsure of the amount of time passed. "Physical injuries are done."
It had to have been about two hours, and Merlin had kept his hand clasped to Arthur's the entire time, barely glancing away. He'd laced their fingers during that time, though he didn't really remember doing it. When Moira spoke, he looked up at her slowly, then back down at Arthur. He really did look better. "Thank you," he said quietly, with a hint of a smile. Looking at Moira again, he noticed how weary she appeared. "Are you all right?"
Moira nodded. The physical injuries didn't take too much out of her. She wouldn't be able to stand for a few minutes, but that wasn't an issue at the moment, was it? She still had to do the mental portion. That was set to be much more trying. "You're welcome."
Arthur's color was returning and his face seemed to relax, but still his eyes did not open. With his free hand, Merlin pushed some of the matted blond hair from the prince's face and glanced worriedly at Moira. "If his head is healed, why won't he wake up?"
"His physical injuries are healed. I'm not sure where his consciousness is hiding. One thing at a time, yeah? I figured that would be my next task. Wandering around in that subconscious of his, trying to bring him back to the world of the living." She gave Merlin a reassuring smile. It was barely noticeable that she was tired.
"Yeah," Merlin answered with a sigh. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sound ungrateful. Honestly, I owe you... everything for doing this. I'm just... just worried."
"Don't apologize. I understand what you're feeling." More than he knew perhaps. Moira hardly needed to cast her senses to feel the waves of hurt, anxiety, and pain that were emanating from Merlin. "This could take longer. The subconscious is a tricky place. And temporally, it doesn't quite follow normal rules."
Merlin nodded. "I understand."
Moira turned her attention back to Arthur and let herself into his subconscious. It took a while to find him. Murky in there. "Hello?" she called when she saw a semi-familiar blonde head.
"Oh. It's you." Arthur halted his movements, lowering his sword by his side with an irritated look. "What do you want?"
She almost laughed. "Just to save you is all," Moira replied with an amused look on her face.
"I don't need saving," Arthur sneered, pink staining his cheeks at the look he was receiving. Girls. "I need practice. Something I cannot get with you standing there."
"Where are we then?" she asked looking around. "And what exactly do you need practice doing?"
Arthur glanced around the lush forested landscape and grinned wistfully. "Camelot."
Moira looked around. "So this is what Camelot looks like," she mused, taking a moment to view the surroundings. "I wish you could stay, but you've got people to get back to."
"What do you mean?" A strangely calm look filtered over Arthur's features as he gazed at her.
"Do you remember what happened?" Moira asked quietly.
"Of course."
"What, praytell, would that be?"
"I slipped."
She raised her eyebrow. "And ended up in Camelot."
He glared and said nothing.
"We've got to get you back. Everyone's worried about you."
"Merlin is worried about me." Arthur arched a brow and shook his head.
"Amongst other people, yes." She crossed her arms. "But we've got to get you back. Don't you want to wake up?"
Arthur's disbelieving snort said enough. "What for?"
"To live. For Merlin. Your father. You would rather stay here forever and have everyone worry about you? Never see them again?"
"I'm not waking up." Not for her. Not because she was begging him to. He didn't particularly like her.
"On purpose?"
"Why else wouldn't I be?"
"You could have been lost in your subconscious, unable to find a way out."
"I'm not lost."
Moira paused. Boys. "So you want to stay locked in your head forever. By yourself."
"Of course I don't." Arthur groaned and ran a hand down his face.
"Then what are you waiting for?" Moira screwed her face up. "Why don't you like me?" She didn't know him long enough for him to legitimately dislike her.
Arthur gave a suffering sigh and sheathed the blade of his sword. An exasperated look crossed his face when he said, "I'm waiting for Merlin."
"Well Merlin sent me. So hop to it and then you can see him." Moira smiled innocently at him. Goddess, he was stubborn.
"No doubt he did." And yet Arthur made no move to...move. He ran a hand back through his hair and sauntered over to a tree, plopping down at its base. "Now tell him to come get me."
Moira raised an eyebrow. "That's not how it works." She walked over to him, crossing her arms. "Do you really want to cause him pain?"
"He can." He glanced up at her distinctly unimpressed with her question.
"If he could, he would have already. He's in such intense pain right now because he doesn't know how. It's not the simplest skill in the world. Takes a fair few years to perfect. I don't know if it could be done back when you were from."
"Such a girl," Arthur muttered, wiping his fingers over an eye. "He is smart." He frowned. "Are you incapable of teaching him?"
"Yes, I am a girl. Is there a problem with that?" Moira nodded. "Believe me, I know he's smart." Goddess, the stories about him that remain... "I could teach him, yes, but at that point it might be too late. How about I promise to teach him when we get back so if this ever happens again he can save you."
Arthur rolled his eyes. "Not you." God but this was testing his patience. "Tell him I'll be waiting for him once he's stopped being such a pansy."
She gaped at him. "What's wrong with me?" Why was he being so blatantly ungrateful for her help? Moira had never encountered someone who was so unwilling to be helped.
"You annoy me."
"You don't know me well enough to be annoyed by you." The girl sat down across from him, cross-legged. "What about me annoys you?"
"I don't have to explain myself to you," he sneered, facing forward.
"What better things do you have to do?" Moira raised an eyebrow.
"Nothing."
"Exactly. So explain to me what about me that is so innately irritating and we can be on our way, and you can be back with Merlin and everything will be perfect and fine." And she could sleep. She wasn't exhausted now, but the longer she stayed in his head, the more exhausted she'd be when she got out.
Arthur said exactly nothing.
Moira put her hand to her head in frustration. "What is the matter? Goddess, I don't understand boys at all."
He snorted.
"Do you want me to drag you back? Kicking and screaming? I can use my magick if it's necessary."
"Can you?"
"Yes, I can, but it's not exactly polite. I try and make it a point to not be an arse." Unlike him.
"Fine."
Moira put her head in her hands for a second. Merlin was going to have to thank her profusely for this. She hated using magick against people's wills. Standing up, she looked at him for one last chance to get up on his own.
Which Arthur met with a distinct lack of NOT moving.
Moira rolled her eyes. "Fine." She levitated him a few inches from the ground and started moving, along with him, toward the direction she'd come in.
Arthur flailed, of course he flailed, when he suddenly found himself floating ABOVE the ground. "What the--? Are you mad?! Put me down!"
"No, I'm not mad," she replied. "I told you that I could use my magick if you wouldn't come on." She felt a twinge of guilt. But she didn't put him down. Instead, she stood still and he merely floated. "This is for your own good. Whine about it once you're awake."
She was worse than Morgana. Arthur wasn't even certain that was possible! "I demand you put me down."
"Will you come if I put you down?" Moira raised her eyebrows.
Arthur gritted his teeth.
"Is that a yes?" Moira moved another inch or two.
"All right, yes. Just...put me down!"
Containing a smile, Moira slowly put him down.
He shot her an irritated scowl as he straightened his tunic and flattened down his hair.
Moira would have apologized, but she thought it would go the wrong way. She shrugged, continuing on.
Arthur followed after her at a stilted gait, wanting to brush by her and take the lead and stop walking all together. He did neither.
They continued on in silence for a while. "So why don't you like me?" Moira asked as they nearly had approached their end.
"You don't need to know everything about me." He stared at the *INSERT SWIRLING VORTEX OF DOOM HERE...until Britt figures out what it really is* disconcertedly. Did she really expect him to go through that?
"This is more about me, I would say," she murmured. Moira didn't do well with people not liking her. Call it a character flaw.
"And I wouldn't."
Moira rolled her eyes. Whatever. She stepped toward the exit. "Fine."
Arthur edged nearer their exit with a dubious expression. "Is this safe?"
She nodded, holding out her hand. She didn't really expect him to take it. "Yes."
He didn't. Not right away. "You're sure." Arthur warily placed his hand in hers, barely cupping his hand.
"Positive." Moira gave him a small smile as she walked toward it, taking him along with her. Walking through it, Moira recognized the familiar feeling of going back into the conscious land. She opened her eyes and let out a small groan. Goddess, was she exhausted. How long had it been? She glanced over at Arthur and then Merlin.
Ten minutes had dragged into fifteen, which had spilled over into twenty, which had somehow crawled through an hour. Then two, then three... four, five... six.... And still, Moira did not wake from her trance. Still, Arthur did not stir. Whatever hope Merlin had been grasping when Moira had arrived here was beginning to slip, and his eyes glassed over as he slowly let it seep into his heart that he may have failed Arthur for good. Grasping Arthur's hand in both of his and pressing it to his forehead, Merlin finally lost resolve, and began to softly cry.
Lost in the deep, numbing sorrow, he barely realized when he lost the energy to remain sitting upright. Head to waist lying facedown on the bed beside Arthur, Merlin fell into a tearful sleep.
"Merlin," Moira called weakly. She couldn't lift her arms without the risk of falling out of the chair. She used what was left of her magick to tug on the back of his shirt. Goddess did that take a lot out of her.
Arthur's everything burned as he shifted into awareness. He groaned, a low, scratchy sound while blinking back the sleep from his eyes. The white washed room was unfamiliar to him, but the weight at his side wasn't. Blue eyes flicked tiredly to the side to confirm exactly what he thought he'd see. His mouth pulled into a thin line-bad idea, his lips cracked-when he saw part of Merlin's face. What now?
In a whirlwind of a moment, too much happened all at once. First, he was tugged from his sleep by a quiet voice straining to say his name, and a light pull on his shirt. He glanced up, expecting to asked Moira what had happened, heart plummeting as he remembered that Arthur wouldn't be waking up. And then, he heard a groan, and it was a groan he'd heard a thousand and one times before, and would recognize anywhere at any moment. His heart sped up too rapidly to even consider that he might have imagined it. "Arthur...?" he whispered, then lifted his head and saw the eyes. The open blue eyes. "Oh God. Arthur!"
With a choked but joyful laugh, Merlin had thrown his arms around Arthur as best he could, considering that the prince was lying on his back. "You're alive!"
Moira smiled at Merlin's enthusiasm. "You know he's a complete prat," she said weakly, closing her eyes as she leaned against the chair. There was no way she was going to be able to get home by herself. Fantastic.
Merlin laughed again, embrace unfaltering, and nodded. He was. He really, really was. A complete, utter, royal prat. A breathing, waking, living royal prat. He couldn't even answer Moira's comment in words. He was too overwhelmed... by tears, by laughter, by relief and joy... love.
"Merlin..." Arthur's voice struck out at a soft rasp. He didn't say anything else. It would sound wholly unimpressive if that was how he was going to be talking. Rolling his eyes, he thread his fingers into Merlin's thick, black hair and sighed. You're such a girl.
Merlin was almost positive Arthur was thinking about how much of a girl he was at that moment, probably on the verge of saying it too. But he didn't care. Not at all. In fact, somehow the knowledge only brightened his grin. "Even your unconscious self is a prat to complete strangers," he quipped, wondering how insulting he could possibly sound right now. He shook his head and tightened his arms. "I thought I'd lost you."
"You." Arthur cleared his throat, wincing when he coughed air and pain. He rubbed his throat as best he could. "Are an idiot."
"Are you alright?" Merlin asked immediately, completely disregarding the familiar retort and bringing a hand up to lay on Arthur's throat. "Are you in pain?"
"I got trampled by a death mechanism." A car. Whatever it was called. He still could remember the bright lights and searing pain.
Merlin winced, really not like hearing it put that way. He stroked his thumb lightly along Arthur's throat and shook his head. "What exactly happened?"
Arthur swallowed roughly, fingers tensing in Merlin's hair. "I fell."
"You fell?" Merlin repeated slowly, not missing Arthur's subtle mood shift. Was that nervousness? Fear? "And then one of those... cars... hit you." He and Jayne had only assumed that part, he realized, after finding Arthur lying in the street.
Instead of answering the question, Arthur closed his eyes and settled back onto his pillow. He couldn't recall. And he hated that.
In a mix between needing a more comfortable position and needing to comfort Arthur, Merlin sat up, climbed completely onto the bed, and settled down again. "It's okay. You don't have to think about it right now." Come to think of it, *I* don't really want to think about it right now.
"Do shut up, Merlin." Arthur sent a withering, well, he supposed was meant to be withering, glare at Merlin. "Some of us are dying here."
Merlin glared right back, and his was every bit as unamused as he meant it to be. "Don't say that," he snapped, heart clenching as he turned his head back up to face the ceiling.
"Don't tell me you were actually that worried." A pensive look fluttered across his face as he turned his head to get a better look at Merlin.
Narrowing his eyes, Merlin glanced over at Arthur again. "Your skull was half crushed in, Arthur. You were barely breathing, you were practically drowning in your own blood, and you didn't wake up for almost twenty-four hours. So yes, Sire, I may have found some cause for concern. I'll be sure not to make that mistake again."
"I apologize." He could have sounded less exasperated about it, true, but then, he didn't think he could quite bring himself to be serious about...anything in that moment. Logically, he saw no reason why he managed to stay alive if what Merlin said was true. Arthur found it easier not to think about it.
"Don't," Merlin sighed, shutting his eyes briefly. "Just-- just don't do it again, alright?" Ha. As if Arthur had chosen to walk in front of a bloody car and be attacked by it. Still, it terrified Merlin that there were dangers here he did not know, could not have protected Arthur from. Almost hadn't been able to save him. And a life without Arthur in this strange, confusing world... a life without Arthur anywhere... he'd said it to Gaius once, and knew it now more than ever. It was unthinkable.
"I didn't..." Arthur grunted and attempted to relax his body. "You found me then?"
Biting his lip, Merlin nodded as he turned his head again to meet Arthur's eyes. "You'd been gone for a long time, so I went looking..." he didn't realize until he'd actually spoken how choked the words would sound. But the memory... he shuddered. "God, Arthur, I was so scared."
Arthur stared at Merlin for a long moment as he tried to understand him. It was utterly impossible to do. Merlin remained as infuriating as ever. Any retort he formed died upon Merlin's confession and Arthur found himself with a sudden lack of things to say.
"Sorry," Merlin said quickly, realizing he must have made Arthur uncomfortable. He managed to do that often, didn't he. Even more so since admitting how he felt about him. Most of the time, Merlin was convinced that he was even more unclear and uncertain about his boundaries with Arthur than he had been before making what should have been an illuminating confession. "I know, stop being a girl. I'm just... just happy you're alright."
"Did I say anything?" Arthur gasped when he tried to turn onto his side and gave up on that idea immediately. He cursed softly under his breath, fingers digging into the bed sheets as he breathed through the burst of pain.
"Arthur!" On a reflex that came with hearing the prince in sudden pain, Merlin's hand had shot forward to rest on Arthur's side, where he had been trying to lay. He laid the other on Arthur's shoulder and squeezed as he inched closer. "Are you alright?" he asked quietly after giving him a moment to breathe, carefully watching his face for signs that the pain might worsen. "Do you need me to get the physician?"
"I'm fine." He just would not be trying that again for a very long time. Arthur gritted his teeth together and tried to get comfortable without moving his lower half. His eyes flickered up to Merlin's face, and he frowned. "No."
Though he didn't particularly believe that Arthur was 'fine,' given the strained expression on his face, Merlin nodded. "Let me know if it gets worse," he told him, even though he knew Arthur wouldn't. He wished more than he ever had since they'd arrived here that he had his spell book. He'd find a spell to cure Arthur's pain, take that look off his face and out of his eyes. But because he couldn't, he did what he could only hope was the next best thing. He lifted his hand from Arthur's shoulder and brushed some hair away from the prince's forehead, then lowered his head to place his lips there instead.
"You keep doing that," Arthur murmured, eyes fluttering tiredly.
Merlin lifted his head again and looked down at the prince, who suddenly seemed to be struggling against his eyelids. Whatever medicines the physicians had given him must have been starting to take hold. "Doing what?"
"Kissing me." Blunt and drowsy. Arthur tried to stifle a yawn as exhaustion finally caught up with him. One day asleep and he was ready for another one.
Blushing slightly, Merlin snorted. He supposed he did do that a lot now. Usually with very little thought or hesitation. "Sorry," he said, even though he mostly wasn't. "Guess you're just hard to resist, Sire."
Arthur smirked, but it was half-hearted at best. He would remember that later. "Naturally. Who would want to resist me after all?" Merlin's friend, Moira, could, Arthur had made sure of that. It felt a bit like mocking Gwen with full intention, only, Guinevere could not unexpectedly suspend him in mid-air.
"Right, of course, Sire." Merlin rolled his eyes, feeling the heavy weight in his chest begin to lift, maybe just a little. What had happened, and the fact that Arthur was still lying here hurting, still scared him powerfully. But Arthur was awake now, and would be alright, and here they were teasing each other like everything was normal. "Anyway, if it's such a bother to you, maybe you should try returning the favor once in a while."
"Are you giving me orders, Merlin?" Arthur would smack him if he could get his arm to raise.
Smiling crookedly, Merlin shrugged. "Not at all, Sire. Merely a suggestion. Perhaps even a request."
Arthur's sighed in a long suffering manner. "A request?"
"Call it compensation for saving your life? Again?" Merlin wasn't sure why he was feeling so comfortable and bold about this right now. Maybe coming so close to losing Arthur for the first time since... whatever their new relationship was had started... had made him realize that waiting around all the time for Arthur to stop acting like a prat was nothing but a great waste of time. And they'd wasted enough already.
"I see. You're looking for a reward." Arthur cupped the back of Merlin's head, fingers spearing through thick black hair to hold his attention. "In that case, you may want to wait."
"I may? Why is that, my lord?" Merlin asked with a growing smile and a raised eyebrow.
"Because I'm about to fall asleep," Arthur lifted an eyebrow and yawned for emphasis, though it became real seconds later. He couldn't help it. Every single part of his body was sore in a muffled way and his head felt stuffed full of wool. "And I wouldn't want to upset your fragile state of mind more by having you think you've killed me again."
"Prat," Merlin retorted, though he had to admit to himself, the supposed insult probably didn't have much effect while he was stroking through Arthur's hair and probably looking at him like he didn't ever want to look away. "Well then, I suppose I'll just have to go back to the castle. Can't have the idiot servant interrupting your royal nap."
"You're not staying?" Arthur tried to believe he didn't sound as startled as he doubtlessly did. He swallowed thickly, which hurt, mind you, but his throat had become clogged and he hadn't had much other choice.
Merlin raised an eyebrow again, fighting a smirk. "Oh, I'm sorry, would you prefer that I stayed? I was under the impression that my being here was some sort of a burden for you, Sire."
"I'm going to see to it that you regret those words, Merlin. Later." Much later, probably weeks later, if he recalled it. Arthur closed his eyes, because looking at the inside of his eyelids was a much better decision than taking the piss out of Merlin. "You're staying. You might as well make yourself comfortable." Implying, of course, that Merlin hadn't already.
The circumstances that had led them to this situation notwithstanding, Merlin couldn't help but feel the slightest bit of satisfaction, knowing that Arthur didn't want him to leave. Even if he still was an ass. "I don't know, Sire, it just doesn't seem quite right to me. I save your life and you will not grant me the only token of gratitude I've asked for? And now I'm expected to devote the rest of my evening to watching you sleep?"
"I would expect you would find that reward enough." Shut up, Merlin.
With a long sigh, Merlin said, "Fine. If you won't relinquish what I want, I suppose I'll just have to take it myself. Again." So he kissed Arthur, because really, was Arthur expecting him not to at this point? He grinned down at him afterward. "There, now was that really so horrible, Sire?"
Arthur's expression remained flat and unamused as he opened his eyes once again. "Are you always impatient, Merlin?"
"Perhaps I've learned from the best, your highness," Merlin retorted, now realizing that Arthur's behavior probably wasn't as much of an act as he'd believed. Well, wonderful, now he felt like a complete dolt. He lowered himself down and off Arthur and settled alongside him. "Sorry," he added, sincerity in his voice now.
"God, you never--" Grunting in frustration, Arthur wrestled weakly to pull Merlin back where he just was. And it was more of a struggle than he'd ever wish to repeat again. He wasn't used to being weak. He didn't like it at all. He only hoped he was better before his father found out about this. He could only imagine. "Now don't move and let me sleep."
It was a surprise, both Arthur's snap and his action. Merlin certainly didn't resist it, instead simply nodded and looked at Arthur's tired face a moment longer before settling himself down right where he was. He exhaled slowly, the return of quiet reminding him of exactly where they were and why, and the heavy trunk of emotions that came with it. For several moments, he listened to the sound of Arthur's steady breathing and heartbeat, trying to reassure himself. Still, the need to say one more thing- just in case- would not leave him be. "Arthur?"
"What?"
Securing an arm around the prince, mindful of the wounds in his side, Merlin let the statement go, quietly. "I love you."
Arthur's cheek puffed out. "I know."
Though it would have been nice to hear it back, Merlin had not been expecting to, nor did it particularly bother him that he hadn't. He didn't say it because he needed to hear it in return. He said it because, because God, he could have lost Arthur today. And he needed Arthur to have absolutely no doubt of what Merlin felt for him should the absolute worst ever happen. Arthur's reply settled that need well enough, and Merlin could more fully relax against him, smiling. "Good."
"Are you going to let me sleep now?" How pathetic was that? Arthur sneered at his own word choice, or would have, if he had the strength or alertness to force himself to sneer, "I shouldn't have to be subject to your will. "
Merlin snorted, nodding against Arthur's chest. "Yes. Go to sleep." He wasn't tired himself. In fact, the last thing he wanted to do right now was waste a moment of his time reunited with Arthur by sleeping. But still, he understood that the prince must be absolutely exhausted, and he did feel a flutter of guilt for having kept him awake. But then again, he'd needed it, needed that time. And despite his protests, he was fairly certain Arthur understood that. Merlin kept his word and was quiet after that, but let his hand move in gentle circles where it lay on Arthur's side.
*
Zak got the text message on his phone a little while ago. There had been an emergency. An accident. It freaked him out at first, but then he read the rest of it. Moira was okay. Thank the gods. But she'd be helping..and would need someone to pick her up. He could manage that. So the youngest Adama headed to the hospital, which he never really liked, to get Moira. He had been in the clinic before, when the earthquake struck, and reminded himself that this was much the same as that. Finding out where Moira and the others were wasn't too terribly difficult. So he waited, assessing the situation quietly. And staring at the witch to figure out how she was doing.
Moira's senses were raw and dulled, all at the same time. So it took her longer than normal to notice that Zak was in the room, but when she did it was an acute notice. She opened her eyes, turning around very slowly to Zak. She gave him a very weak smile.
He grinned a little, the grin belying the fact that he was incredibly worried. "Hey." He glanced at the two young men, eyebrows lifting a little. There were things that he found a little strange, but figured that it was just Earth. So many young men with young men (or older men). Odd. Earth. A mental shrug was given. Whoever made people happy, he imagined. Then he went around to Moira and pulled her gently into a hug. "How are you doing?"
Were Moira more with it, she would have noticed the worry. Presently she was too exhausted and her senses, along with her other powers, were too dull and painful to be as finely attuned as they normally were. She draped her arms around Zak lightly. It was all she could manage, closing her eyes again when in the hug. "Perfect," she replied, her voice obviously worn and exhausted. But she was telling the truth. She'd managed to help Merlin, and Zak was here.
He pushed through her hair lightly and then looked at the boy who wasn't hurt. "Did you need anything else? I should probably get her home." Zak looked at Moira then, wondering if he'd get any protest.
Moira raised her eyebrows ever so slightly. She wasn't about to protest. It took too much energy. And besides, her work was done. She'd healed Arthur's injuries, gotten him out of that ruddy mind of his. All she wanted to do was sleep for...about a week. That sounded good. If she had been able to walk, she'd want to do a circle, but really, Moira just wanted to sleep. Perhaps drink some tea eventually...
Good. There was no protesting. He moved slightly, shifting to pick Moira up. Even though she was tall, Zak still had a bit of height on her so managed to do so. And should be a taxi waiting outside. He nodded to the boy quietly and took the witch out to go home. Sure enough, there was a taxi out there, into which Zak got her into. Then he slid in and gave the driver Moira's address.
"You didn't have to carry me," Moira managed to say quietly, after they were already in the cab. On the contrary, she wasn't sure she'd have been able to stand up, let alone make it to the cab.
"Makes me feel all manly or something." He grinned lightly. Zak thought that she wouldn't have been able to make it. It wasn't a long drive, really, but much needed. Once they got to her house, he got out and went around to the other side, picking her up again. "Humour me, won't you?" And with that, they were going inside to get Moira into bed.
"Does it," she murmured, leaning her head against him for the drive. She couldn't even sufficiently scrunch her nose at him when he asked her to humor him. It ended up as a half scrunched half exhausted face. "Thank you," she replied as they were approaching her room. She would have argued if she'd thought it was at all possible that she could make it up the stairs. Or even across the hall. Goddess, was Zak good to her. And carrying her as if she were nothing...
Half of it was just that he could, and half was adrenaline. Or something to that effect, anyway. He smiled boyishly when she thanked him and placed her in her bed before shrugging up a shoulder. "You'd do the same for me. Since you can lift my weight a few times over." Reminded. Then Zak sat on the side of the bed and pushed her hair back. "Get some rest, Moira."
She smiled at him again. It was genuine, but barely there. A weak smile from someone who'd expended all of her energy from the day (or more accurately the week). "I would." He shouldn't doubt it for a second. She reached over, with more effort than it should have taken - as if she'd been running a marathon or twelve -, and put her hand on top of Zak's. The one that hadn't pushed her hair back. She gave it a light squeeze. "I think I can handle that. Especially if some means loads.