Heaven and Hell (3/?)
Heaven and Hell (3/?)
Fandom(s): Merlin, Supernatural, The Secret Circle
Rating: PG-13
Pairings: Merlin/Arthur, Dean/Cas
Words (this part): 1,012
Summary: Merlin, Arthur, and the rest of the gang are constantly being reincarnated. The story plays out the same every time, until Morgana seeks out Faye and Merlin crosses paths with the Winchesters. Then the game changes.
And spread, like weeds, their poisons wide,
Fresh healing plants came blooming bright,
And stood, to check them, side by side
Notes: The first few chapters jump around quite a bit. As the story continues though, there's fewer time jumps.
In the summary there's three lines from the poem "Good and Evil" by Samuel G. Goodrich. (Fantastic poem, definitely give it a read!)
It was the middle of the day and the sky was pitch black with monstrous storm clouds. Merlin walked cautiously across the dead grass. The crunching of it beneath his feet made him uneasy, so he cast a silence spell. Evil. What had Morgana done? He stepped onto the rotting porch of the old abandoned house and turned to look back. The dead grass was a perfect circle, the house at the very center of it. He opened the door slowly. Deep breath. He stepped through the threshold into the black room, his skin crawling. Evil, evil, evil.
“Merlin,” a familiar voice greeted in false cheeriness.
“Where’s Arthur?” Merlin demanded.
Morgana smiled, the whiteness of her teeth disturbingly bright in the darkness. “He’s here. Faye, dear.”
Another raven-haired girl came down the stairs, a bit younger than Morgana. Merlin knew her immediately.
“Morgana, what have you done?” His voice was broken and angry. He was so tired of fighting. He was tired of always knowing-of Arthur never knowing. “You’ve poisoned her,” he accused.
A wicked spark lit in Morgana’s eyes and he was reminded of how he’d been the one to poison her. Holding her in his arms, feeling the life go out of her as she took her last breaths. All these centuries and he still couldn’t escape that guilt, couldn’t discourage the notion that this was all his fault.
His eyes moved to trace the black symbols on her translucent unsleeved arms. Evil.
Morgana smirked. “You know what these mean. Demons, monsters, Satan. I’ve unleashed hell, Merlin.” She added sweetly, “Just for you.”
Merlin titled his head to the ceiling and was shocked to see Arthur there, held by some invisible force.
Morgana tossed her head back and laughed. “Took you long enough! Are your eyes dulling?”
Gunshots rang out and bullets whizzed past Merlin’s head. Morgana held a lazy hand up and the bullets dropped at her feet.
Merlin looked behind him and saw the Winchester brothers. “Get out of here!” he warned.
“But-” Dean started to say.
“Get out!”
“Faye, darling, please take care of those pests,” Morgana said.
Merlin could feel Arthur’s eyes on him as Faye and the Winchesters ran out the door in a game of cat and mouse. Who was cat and who was mouse, he wasn’t sure.
“Let Arthur go,” he said. “This is between you and me.”
“Oh, but it all started with Arthur.” She stood directly under him and looked straight up. “Poor incompetent bastard,” she said emotionlessly. “Doesn’t remember anything. His mind is dull.”
“He was happy, Morgana,” Merlin said, too tired of their never-ending game to even be angry. They were like the sun and the moon, in an unbroken cycle. And Merlin was old-so old. Just when he thought Morgana couldn’t do any worse, she went and brought hell and all its pawns onto the board.
Lightning fast, Morgana made a dagger fly across the room, her eyes flashing gold, straight towards Merlin’s heart.
Lightning had nothing on Merlin.
He tossed the dagger to the side and raised a hand, throwing Morgana to the side. That was his curse-he couldn’t kill her. Not again. Once had been enough. The hatred to your love. He hadn’t seen Kilgharrah in this lifetime, neither had he seen Aithusa. But there’s always the next, he thought. Maybe the next time around he could take Arthur away, hide him from Morgana. He could introduce him to the dragons. He could tell him the stories of their pasts, and he wouldn’t have to worry about Morgana. But fate had never been kind to him.
With a cruel twist of her wrist, Morgana let Arthur drop down from the ceiling. Merlin gentled his fall, but stayed focused on Morgana. She grinned wickedly as a screeching began to fill his ears.
“You can hear them,” she said wickedly. “Beautiful, isn’t it? All of hell, coming just for you, Merlin.”
“You undid everything,” he accused her. “Sam and Dean fixed it all and you’re bringing it back!” This angered him-true anger, down to his core.
She wasn’t just ruining his life and Arthur’s now, she was going to bring the entire world to ruins. She’d made this bigger than them-she’d even brought a witch of her descent into it! Past centuries began to seem like childish games.
“Merlin, what the hell-”
“Ah-ah-ah!” Morgana said, slamming Arthur against a wall and holding him there.
Faye rushed back in. “They got away,” she said, out of breath.
Merlin evaluated her eyes very carefully. There was something in the way Faye had said it…had she let them escape? Perhaps there was still a chance for her, maybe her humanity was still intact….
“It doesn’t matter,” Morgana said. “Their angel friend is dead. They can’t do anything this time around.”
Their angel friend. Merlin knew what he had to do. He began chanting, began the weaving of the most powerful spell he’d ever done.
“What are you…” Morgana was confused, but only for a second before she recognized the words. “No,” she breathed. “You’ll kill yourself, you fool!” And that was her curse. To love and hate her eternal enemy. To kill him again and again, but always with the knowledge that she’d see him in the next life. “All that power-you might not come back! Stop!”
He said the words faster, louder. Slowly the dark room began to almost glow. Merlin lost sight of where he was, even who he was. He knew only the words.
And then everything stopped. There was a moment of absolute silence, absolute blackness. And in that moment, Merlin thought, What have I done?
Then there was an explosion of white light. It was soundless, or so loud it was simply deafening, but when it was over, all the windows were shattered and there were cracks in the walls, ceiling, and floor of the already rotting house. In the center of the room, lying on the floor, was a rather insignificant body in a black suit.
Castiel.
< Part 2 | Part 4 >