Faded expectations (trust no one) - part 3 [Merlin/Arthur - 35k - NC-17]
Title: Faded expectations (trust no one) - part 3
Author: go_fishboys
Prompt: self-prompt
Pairing(s): Merlin/Arthur
Word Count: 35k
Rating: R except for the epilogue, which is NC-17
Contains (Highlight to view): *mentions of experimentation on humans and aliens, forced pregnancies, violence, deaths of minor characters*
Disclaimer: Merlin characters are the property of Shine and BBC. No profit is being made and no copyright infringement is intended.
Notes: This fic is in no way inspired by The X-Files. Nope, not at all. As if.
Haha, no but really, this happened because I marathoned the show to prepare for the revival.
Huge thanks to Viv, my beta. This is very last minute, so any remaining mistakes are my own.
Summary: There’s no such thing as government conspiracies, right? That’s what Arthur used to believe as well until an anonymous informant convinced him to take on what will probably be the biggest case of his career.
read it on AO3
Arthur then made his way to his office in the X-Files. It was still officially his until tomorrow, so he was going to make good use of it.
He switched his computer on, and while it booted, he made himself a pot of nice, strong coffee.
Soon, Arthur was going through the FBI archives, looking through decades of files relating to his father’s own career within the Bureau, looking for anything that would connect him to his current case.
There had to be something.
But after three hours and five cups of coffee, Arthur was forced to admit that there was nothing in his father’s files that suggested any involvement in this case. Absolutely nothing.
Arthur sighed and rubbed his eyes. He’d really been hoping to find something tangible in his father’s files. All that work, and nothing. It was so frustrating, all these paths that led to dead ends. He had been so sure that his father was involved! And despite the lack of evidence, he still believed that his father was in some way involved in this whole affair. But what more could he do?
Just then, his email pinged, notifying him of a new message.
It was just a series of numbers, but Arthur recognised them as coordinates and a time - someone wanted to meet up in… Arthur glanced at the clock. It was just after one, so in half an hour. The coordinates, he recognised as being those of the Rising Sun.
And attached to the email was a file, a picture. And when Arthur opened it, he almost gasped in shock. There, amongst a group of people posing for a black and white photo, were his father and Gaius, both looking much younger. His father was wearing a crisp suit, as he always did, and Gaius was wearing a doctor’s coat on top of a suit.
There was a date stamped on the picture - 10/22/1963. Quickly glancing through his father’s files for that year, he found a case report, heavily redacted, with next to no information to glean. But there was a list of names that did at least confirm one thing for Arthur - both his father and Gaius had worked on something secret back in 1963.
**
Arthur wasn’t surprised to see his unofficial informant waiting for him at the specified time behind the Red Sun.
“Were you followed?” the informant asked.
“No,” Arthur replied. He’d kept an eye out, of course, but he hadn’t found anyone tailing him. Or if they were, they were bloody good at their job, because Arthur hadn’t noticed.
“Good. I don’t have long, they’re on to me.”
The informant reached into the inside pocket of his coat and pulled out a floppy disk.
“This will help,” he said. “I can’t give you any more, they’ll know that I gave it to you.”
“If you’re concerned they’re on to you, I can help,” Arthur said, taking the disk. “I can protect you.”
The informant laughed, an ugly, bitter sound. “Protect me? No one can protect me from them, especially not you, young Pendragon. They’re everywhere and they’re above the law.”
“I can protect you,” Arthur repeated.
“You have no idea who you’re up against,” the informant said. “I suggest you go home and acquaint yourself with the contents of that disk before it’s too late.”
“Is that a threat?” Arthur asked.
“A warning,” the informant replied. “They are ruthless when dealing with those that get in their way. They’re aware of your investigation but they do not know how deep you’ve reached yet. You don’t have much of a head start so don’t let them catch up.”
Then, just as Arthur opened his mouth to ask more questions in hopes of gleaning even the smallest piece of information, two shots rang in the lazy afternoon silence. Before Arthur could even react, the informant was stumbling, barely able to keep himself up straight. Before he could even process what had happened, a dark stain started to grow on the man’s chest.
Not again, Arthur thought. He was about to help the informant into a stable position before calling an ambulance.
“Don’t,” the informant rasped. “You don’t have long. There is no hope left if they catch you.”
So Arthur turned and ran as fast as he could, once again leaving a man to die alone while he saved himself. But still, the only thought that coursed through his mind was of Merlin, whether he was safe, or was he too late?
**
The reality of what had just happened had yet to really sink into Arthur’s brain. It still felt like a dream, like a nightmare, more accurately. How he had managed to escape the shooter (or shooters, he didn’t know) without being detected, he didn’t know. But he was grateful, so grateful. Unless, of course, he was let go on purpose.
He didn’t know what to think. All he knew was that Gwen and Merlin were in danger and he had to save them both.
“Anything?” he asked after Gwen opened the door for him. His heart was still beating loudly in his chest. He looked around, searching for the familiar sight of Merlin, and only when he saw him sitting on a stool, swinging from side to side gently, one hand gently caressing his stomach, did Arthur let himself take a breath of relief. It would only be short lived - they couldn’t afford to stay here.
“I’ve run some blood tests, there’s something weird in his blood,” Gwen whispered, sneaking covert glances at Merlin. She needn’t have worried, Merlin seemed a bit out of it, staring into space.
“Weird? What do you mean, weird?” Arthur asked, keeping his voice low as well. It was as if Gwen didn’t want Merlin to know. He’d probably freak out if he knew, Arthur thought.
“I don’t know yet,” Gwen replied. “It’s some sort of drug, that’s all I can tell you. I’ve never seen it before and I can’t find it in any of the FBI databases. And it’s not in any of my books. It’s incredible. Well, not incredible because it sucks that we don’t know anything about it, but the fact that there’s a drug out there that’s not on any official record!”
“Do you think it’s linked to the pregnancy?”
“Could be,” Gwen replied. “I can’t really tell you without knowing what it is and what it does.”
“Anything else?” Arthur asked.
“Well, the baby’s healthy,” Gwen said in a louder voice, so that Merlin could hear. “She’s definitely human, before you ask. I’m testing the DNA to see if the other father can be traced but that’ll take a few more hours, at least. And that’s only because I’m prioritising it because it’s you.”
Arthur smiled. “Thanks, Gwen. I really owe you.”
“You do. Now, why don’t you take Merlin home and let me work in peace. I’ve taken all the samples I need.”
Merlin was quiet as they made their way back to Arthur’s car, almost sullen. Arthur didn’t worry about it too much, he was probably still tired and the tests probably hadn’t helped. He had bigger things on his mind to preoccupy him, the floppy heavy in the pocket of his hoodie. It wasn’t until they were a fair distance from the FBI building, almost back at Arthur’s flat, that he spoke up.
“I heard, you know,” Merlin said. “About the weird thing in my blood.”
Arthur didn’t even need to ask him what he’d heard, he knew. And he felt guilty, again.
“We were just trying to protect you,” Arthur said. “I didn’t want to worry you.”
“Well, you failed,” Merlin replied harshly.
“I’m sorry,” Arthur said eventually, after the conversation had trailed off.
Merlin sighed. “Don’t be,” he said in a tired voice. He reached out with one hand, placing it on top of Arthur’s and squeezing it gently. Arthur felt warm, so warm from the contact, it was flooding his body, helping him relax. “I know you meant well.”
Merlin withdrew his hand, the warmth never leaving Arthur’s hand. “At least I know it - sorry, she, now, is healthy.”
“Does that bother you?” Arthur asked.
Merlin made a non-committal noise. “I dunno, I just wish this were all over.”
They made it back to Arthur’s flat safely. It took them longer than it should have because Arthur wanted to be absolutely, positively certain that he wasn’t being followed before he went home, taking detour after detour until he was satisfied he wasn’t being followed.
Of course, it was entirely possible that it had all been for moot - what if there was someone waiting in his building? He could no longer assume that his identity was still hidden to whoever was trying to kill them, which meant that his flat was possibly compromised. But where else could he go with Merlin? And on a Sunday, no less.
Arthur locked the door and, just to be absolutely certain, took a quick tour of his flat, Merlin right behind him as he checked every room, every corner.
“Has anything happened?” Merlin asked once Arthur had finally determined that his flat was safe.
Arthur hesitated for a moment whether or not to tell Merlin what had happened in the few hours that he’d been gone.
“Something’s happened, hasn’t it?” Merlin said. “Don’t hide it from me. I want to know.”
“They’re on to us,” Arthur simply said. The less he said about the murder, the better.
And he felt like he was right when he saw Merlin go tense, eyes wide with fear. “What do you mean, on to us? Like on to us?”
“Like on to us,” Arthur confirmed. “I don’t know how close they are or what they think we know, but things are getting dangerous.”
“Oh my god,” Merlin said, his voice almost a whisper. “We’re fucked!”
“No we’re not,” Arthur replied, switching his computer on. He needed to check the floppy while he still could. “I’m right here to protect you.”
“I’d just like to point out,” Merlin started, a hint of hysteria creeping into his voice, “that last time you tried to protect me by not telling me about the weird drug, you failed completely.”
“That was different,” Arthur said, not entirely focused on the conversation at hand. The floppy was a normal floppy, with a slightly torn label that just contained the words “Project Albion”. He inserted it in the drive and waited for it to boot.
Instead, a box came up, prompting a password.
“Dammit,” Arthur swore. This was perfect, just perfect. He was so, so close to a major breakthrough, one his informant had risked his life for, and here he was, stuck because said informant had failed to give him the fucking password to the fucking floppy.
“What’s the matter?” Merlin asked, peering over Arthur’s shoulder, curious. At least he no longer sounded on the verge of panic.
“Nothing,” Arthur said angrily. “Just another fucking hurdle.”
“Language!” Merlin interjected. “I won’t tolerate any swearing around the baby.”
“You don’t even care about the baby, I’ll swear all I fucking want,” Arthur barked.
“I might not care about the baby, but that doesn’t mean I’ll subject her to anything that would be bad for her,” Merlin said. “No need to be a prat about it.”
Arthur took a deep breath to calm himself down. “I’m not a prat,” he said.
“Then stop acting like one,” Merlin said reasonably. “Why don’t you let me try.”
Honestly, there were worse ideas than letting Merlin give it a try. It wasn’t as if he had any better leads anyway.
“Sure, why not,” Arthur said, moving aside to let Merlin sit down. “I’ll take you out for dinner if you can open it.”
“Was there anything on the floppy? Like writing, marks?” Merlin asked.
“It said ‘Project Albion’,” Arthur replied. “I didn’t see anything else.”
Merlin hmm’ed and started typing. Word after word, he was met with an “access denied” message, and even Arthur could tell that Merlin was starting to get frustrated.
“Who the fuck gave you this without giving you the password,” Merlin muttered. “Honestly.”
“Language, Merlin,” Arthur joked.
“Oh shut up,” Merlin retorted.
And then, suddenly, Merlin typed something, and instead of the “access denied” message, a folder opened, containing a few text files and a picture.
“Oh my god,” Merlin whispered, pointing at the screen. “I’m a genius! Looks like you owe me a meal!”
“Yeah, yeah,” Arthur said, crowding him to get a better look at the screen. “Not bad for an idiot.”
Merlin moved the cursor so that it was sitting on top of the button to close the window. “I can just let you figure it out, since you’re so smart,” Merlin said sarcastically. “I mean, since I’m only an idiot.”
Arthur ignored him. “What was the password anyway?”
“Excalibur,” Merlin said. “You know, Arthurian legends and all that? Bet you didn’t get teased as much as I did because of your name though.”
Excalibur. It made so much sense, Arthur thought. That was the last word Agent Smith had uttered, and it had etched itself in Arthur’s mind, just waiting for the right connection to come along.
Had he really been involved in this case for that long?
“Open the picture first,” he said.
“What am I, your servant?” Merlin muttered. “Do it yourself.”
Still, despite his muttering, Merlin double clicked on the picture.
It was similar to the picture Arthur had received earlier on, a group of young-ish men, posing. Some wore plain suits, others wore lab coats. The picture was dated from 1964, not much after the first picture.
And amongst them, Arthur recognised his father, Gaius, his uncle Agravaine, and, to his complete surprise, his informant. He couldn’t tell whether Agent Smith was amongst the men - the quality of the picture was pretty bad and Arthur could barely remember what he looked like anyway.
“Hey, that’s Gaius,” Merlin said, pointing at the man. “And isn’t that your father?”
Arthur took the mouse from Merlin, closing the picture and pushing him out of the way. Merlin huffed but let him.
He quickly scanned the file names of the three text files - report.txt, mission.txt and details.txt. He opened the report file first and almost gasped in surprise - it was the same file he’d encountered earlier, the heavily redacted, type-written file, only completely readable.
Date: 10/20/1963
On October 15th, 1963, we were called to the site of a crash in the Mojave Desert following normal procedure at coordinates 37°31′36″N 116°11′53″W. The information we had in our possession was that a civilian aircraft had crashed, and it was suspected that it had been shot down. Upon arrival at the crash site, we discovered that the object of the crash was not a civilian aircraft by any means, instead something that neither I nor my partner, Special Agent Pendragon, had ever encountered.
The aircraft in question, though badly damaged by the crash, had the shape of a long triangle, approximately 10 yards in length. The two occupants of the craft, one gravely injured, but alive, the other, dead, small gray-skinned biological entities, were taken into custody.
Special Agent Pendragon and I oversaw the clean-up effort and were instructed to transfer all pieces of the wreckage, as well as the biological entity, to Area 51 for further study.
Due to the location of the crash, there were no civilian witnesses. We continue to track activity in the region in case there were any witnesses and are prepared to intervene should such a situation occur.
Date: 10/20/1963 at: LAS VEGAS, NEVADA File #: XF-6309
By Special Agents: Kilgharrah, Pendragon Date dictated: 10/20/1963
Arthur couldn’t believe his eyes. This was it, this was the proof he had been looking for, that there was something deeper, more sinister to the abductions and forced pregnancies. He didn’t even try to deny that alien activity was involved in the case anymore. His father and special agent Kilgharrah, whoever he was, had discovered an alien ship and had proceeded to take it to a military base for research.
He then opened the mission file impatiently. He had a vague idea where this was heading, but he had to make sure. The file finally opened, too slow in Arthur’s opinion, and he started reading eagerly.
REPORT ON THE FINDINGS OF ALIEN CRAFT #X-001
Despite the damage sustained to both the ship and its occupants, my team and I were called in to examine the occupants to see whether we could find anything that would be of value to the government or the military. While the anatomy of the alien occupants is certainly different to ours, I do believe that we have come across a finding that will be of great use, especially in the aftermath of the assassination of President Kennedy. As such, I am writing this letter to request more funds to pursue this line of investigation.
Opening the abdomen of the dead occupant revealed that, despite our differences in anatomy, the occupant could be classified as male. This was confirmed by operating on the other occupant, both of whom have quasi-identical genitalia.
However, another discovery we made was the existence of a small life form in gestation within the abdomen of the living occupant, completely unconnected to any organs within the entity’s body. We took samples of both the occupant and the small life form and discovered that the small life form had the exact same DNA as the occupant - in essence, a clone.
We then closed the occupant’s abdomen and allowed the gestation to continue naturally, keeping an eye on its vitals to the best of our ability. We found that as the gestation, much shorter than in humans, went on, the concentration a certain molecule in the occupant’s blood increased in its serum. This molecule was completely absent in the dead host’s serum. We therefore believe that this molecule is linked to the pregnancy’s viability in a male host.
Following the ‘birth’ of the small life form, we observed the two entities, how they interacted. It was clear almost immediately that the occupant was distressed and in pain, and several times attempted to communicate with us. Of course, as no one understood the language, it took us a long time to figure out what the entity wanted.
Finally, we seemed to understand that it wanted access to its technology. We allowed this, under heavy guard by the military. Once allowed to use its technology, the entity went straight for a device which we had no yet determined its use. Placing the device on the smaller life form and placing its hand on top of it, there was a loud buzzing following which the occupant collapsed. Upon inspection, we discovered it was deceased and took the small life form back to its holding cell.
Over the following weeks, we observed the life form, that was growing at an astounding rate, much faster than prior to contact with the device until it appeared to reach the same relative ‘age’ as the occupant, as far as we could tell, at which point, its growing ceased. We then proceeded to test it in several ways to see if we could find out what the device might have done.
It is our hypothesis that the device is some sort of cloning device as it soon became clear to my team and me that the small life form had inherited the memories, thoughts and behavioural habits of the deceased occupant, almost as if its brain itself had been cloned. We started with simple tests, much the same as those we had administered to the occupant, such as reactions to painful stimuli or the ability to solve a simple problem to receive food.
Despite having never been the recipient of our tests, the small life form’s was able to anticipate and react to the painful stimuli test (the ringing of a bell followed by an electric shock) in a way identical to the occupant previously.
We have started experimentation on human subjects, unsuccessful as of yet.
As was said in the introduction, I do believe that, if harnessed, this technology would undoubtedly prove most useful as it would allow us to save the people in the highest positions of power in the event of an assassination or other form of death. Imagine what we could have done had we known of this technology before President Kennedy’s assassination. The nation would not have had to mourn the death of such an influential person.
The document was signed in the bottom - Gaius. Again, Gaius. He was everywhere in this case, a case that run so much deeper than he had ever thought possible.
If he was reading things correctly, and Arthur couldn’t quite bring himself to believe that he was, the FBI and the military were both involved, a fucking conspiracy theory come true. His own father was involved. At the time, it probably hadn’t meant very much, but now, as the director of the FBI… Just how high up did this case go?
And those three pictures Lancelot had brought in a while back… Arthur couldn’t prove it, but he was almost certain they were related. Further proof that the FBI was involved and making evidence disappear.
He hated to admit it, but maybe Lancelot and all his conspiracy theories had been right. There really was something going on here, something that involved so many higher-ups. And if Lancelot was right, had he been ‘taken care of’, as they would say? Arthur could only hope that they’d tried to shake Lancelot off their scent, sending him in the wrong direction. He refused to think for a single moment that Lancelot was dead.
“Arthur, are you alright?” Merlin asked. He’d moved to sit on the couch while Arthur read the files and was looking at him, blue eyes full of concern.
He didn’t know what to say. Was he alright? Sure, he wasn’t the one whose body was being used against his will to create… clones? Had he read that right? Clones?
But why Merlin? The file specifically said that the clone had been of the pregnant person. And Merlin’s baby was a girl - that was what Gwen had said, right? That… just didn’t add up. There must have been new developments since the file was written, clearly not long after the craft had been recovered. They’d had almost thirty years to perfect the process, and so many victims.
“Arthur?” Merlin asked again.
“It’s nothing,” he said. “I’m fine.”
Merlin didn’t look convinced, but fortunately, he didn’t press the issue. Arthur was glad, he really didn’t want Merlin to know any more than he already knew. He didn’t know how Merlin would react, anger, fear, something else? He couldn’t know just how dangerous things were. It was part of his job, protecting Merlin, even from the truth if it was in his best interest. He knew how Merlin would react if he found out Arthur was hiding things from him, but the longer he could keep the true nature of the case from him, the better.
In his mind, he came to a decision.
This had to end, and it had to end now.
He got up.
How he was going to accomplish that, he didn’t know. But he would start with what he knew. And what he knew was that his father was involved.
He checked his watch.
Not even five. His father would definitely still be at work.
Before he even had time to make plans for how he would confront his father, there was a knock at his door.
Arthur tensed, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw Merlin’s eyes open wide with fear.
“Go to the bedroom,” he hissed at Merlin. “Hurry!”
Merlin, thankfully, obeyed him and quietly made his way to the bedroom. Arthur could only hope that that would be enough to keep him safe. Because if whoever was on the other side of the door meant to kill them, it didn’t matter where Merlin went, they would find him.
There was another knock at the door. They meant business.
His heart was pounding in his chest and blood was roaring in his ears. He grabbed his gun, removed the safety while trying to compose himself.
He moved silently to the door, trying not to give anything away. He wanted the element of surprise to be on his side, he wanted those few extra micro-seconds to be his. Because sometimes, that meant the difference between life and death.
He glanced through the peephole to see who he was up against and let out a sigh of relief.
Gwen. Lovely Gwen.
He had never been so pleased to see her in his life.
He opened the door.
“Arthur, is everything alright?” she asked when she saw his face.
Arthur just ushered her in, closing and locking the door behind her.
“Everything’s fine,” Arthur said. “I thought you were someone else.”
“I don’t doubt it,” she replied, her eyes darting to the gun then back to Arthur.
“Why are you here?” Arthur asked.
“Oh, you know that DNA test I said I’d do for you?” Gwen asked. “The one to see if we could find the other father of the child?”
“You found something?” Arthur asked. “Go sit in the living room, I’ll go and get Merlin. He’ll probably want to hear this.”
Arthur found the door to his bedroom closed. Without thinking, he opened the door and was immediately met with a heavy pillow thrown straight in his face.
“Oh shit, Arthur!” Merlin said. “Sorry, I didn’t think it was you.”
“It’s fine, I’m alright,” Arthur replied, trying not to snap at Merlin. He didn’t want to discourage him from defending himself. Because maybe, sometime soon, Arthur wouldn’t be there to protect him. And really, could he blame him? Arthur probably would have reacted the same, especially with him telling Merlin to hide.
“Who was at the door?” Merlin asked, brushing Arthur’s hair off his face with a gesture so tender that it made his heart ache. It was so unfair that they’d met in these circumstances because, as Arthur was slowly starting to discover, Merlin was everything he wanted in a partner.
“Gwen,” Arthur replied, forcing himself to turn away from Merlin’s touch. “I think she knows who the other father is.”
“That’s assuming one of the fathers is me to begin with,” Merlin muttered, following Arthur back to the living room.
Arthur didn’t say anything, pretending he hadn’t heard Merlin. But secretly, he agreed. Given what they knew so far, there was no reason to simply believe that the child had anything to do with Merlin in the first place.
Gwen was sitting in one of the armchairs facing the couch, so Merlin and Arthur both sat in front of her.
“I’m not sure this is news you want to hear,” Gwen started as soon as they were seated. “I couldn’t believe it myself when I first got the results. I mean, what the hell? It’s just too big of a coincidence. But I checked again and it came back the same, so it must be true.”
“What result is that?” Arthur asked.
He was on edge. What kind of news was Gwen going to break to them that she thought Merlin didn’t want to hear it? Was it…
“Is it part alien then?” Merlin asked, sounding resigned.
“What?” Gwen said. “No, no, nothing like that. The DNA’s definitely human.”
“Then what?” Arthur asked.
“Well,” Gwen started, clearly stalling. “As suspected, Merlin is one of the fathers. That’s almost certain.”
“But…?” Arthur prompted when it became clear that Gwen wasn’t going to continue.
“But…” she finally said. “The other father is you, Arthur.”
The news hit Arthur like a tonne of bricks. How was that even possible? He hadn’t… He’d never…
“What?” he heard Merlin ask faintly.
“I’m sorry,” Gwen said. “But I’ve checked the results. You’re definitely the other father, Arthur.”
Arthur’s body sagged back against the couch cushions. He could hear Gwen and Merlin calling him, but all he could focus on was Gwen’s voice, repeating “the other father is you” over and over again. And no matter how many times he heard it, he still couldn’t believe it.
Fuck.
Then, there was a warm hand against his arm, slicing through the ice cold of panic.
“Arthur, are you alright?”
Merlin.
He blinked once, forcing himself to focus on the present, on Merlin’s warm hand.
“No,” he said weakly. “I’m not alright.”
Gwen gave him a sad smile. “I’m sorry, I wish I had better news.”
“It’s not your fault, Gwen.”
No, it was his father’s fault. His father and that fucking group who were messing with innocent people’s lives. He was so fucking angry, he felt like he would shoot them all if ever he found them.
But he couldn’t, a small part of him said, a small part that hadn’t been hardened by time and cases, a small part that still believed in justice.
What justice, Arthur wanted to snap. There would be no justice for men like his father. They were too powerful, too connected. Arthur was nothing to them, nothing more than a mosquito buzzing in their ears, annoying and tolerated to a certain point, but easily squashed.
And still, Arthur found himself agreeing. Death was too easy for those people. He would make sure that they paid for their crimes, that they would spend the rest of their days rotting in jail.
“I should go,” Gwen said, standing up. “Call me if you need my help again.”
“Thanks, Gwen,” Arthur said.
“Don’t get up,” Gwen said. “I’ll see myself out.”
Once the door closed behind her, Arthur and Merlin sat in silence for a long, tense moment, Merlin’s hand never moving from Arthur’s arm.
“I’m sorry,” Arthur said eventually, turning to look at Merlin.
Merlin jumped at the sudden sound of his voice, his hand dropping from Arthur’s arm leaving him feeling bereft.
“What?”
“The… you know,” Arthur said, awkwardly gesturing at Merlin’s stomach.
“Oh,” Merlin said, rubbing his belly gently. “It’s not your fault.”
“But -”
“But nothing,” Merlin interrupted, quiet but firm. “I know that you have nothing to do with this.”
“How can you be so sure?” Arthur asked. “You barely know me.”
Merlin gave him a small smile. “I know you enough to know that you’re not involved in this mess. You’re a good person, I’m sure you are.”
Arthur didn’t know what to say to that. It was so awkward to be on the receiving side of such a compliment - that Merlin thought he was a good person from what little time they’d spent together. And so, the silence returned, not as tense as before, but not comfortable either.
“You know what?” Merlin eventually said.
Arthur turned again, and saw Merlin looking up at him through his lashes, fragile and uncertain.
He took a deep breath before continuing. “I could really, really use a hug right now,” he said.
Arthur nodded and reached out, pulling Merlin closer to him, wrapping his arms around his warm body. Merlin went willingly, almost melting into Arthur, burying his face in the crook of Arthur’s neck.
He was shaking, Arthur realised. He ran his hand up and down his back, slowly, gently, hoping that he could get Merlin to relax a bit.
“Why did this happen to me?” Merlin whispered shakily.
Arthur just hugged Merlin tighter as he cried, sniffling softly every now and then.
They stayed like that for a long time, quiet but for the sounds of Merlin’s sniffling.
All Arthur could think of was how much he hated his father in that moment, for putting Merlin through this ordeal for his own gain. He didn’t know if he’d have the strength to arrest his father and not kill him.
But for Merlin, he thought, he’d do anything. And such a thought should have been scary, but more than anything, Arthur found it comforting.
Eventually, Merlin’s sniffles died down and they continued sitting there, holding each other close. It was like being in the eye of the storm, quiet before everything went to hell again. And Arthur wanted to drag it out as long as possible.
Merlin pulled back slightly, his hands sliding down to Arthur’s waist. His eyes were wet and red from crying, but he looked resolved.
“That night at the motel,” he started, rushing as if he needed to get the words out of him before he forgot. “It wasn’t nothing for me.”
Arthur took a deep breath. This was it, the conversation he had been dreading. He’d hoped Merlin wouldn’t bring it up, at least not until they’d solved the case. But clearly, that was not to be.
“It wasn’t nothing for me either,” he admitted in a quiet voice.
“What?” Merlin gasped.
Arthur let out a shaky laugh. “God, Merlin, you have no idea how much you mean to me. There’s something about you.”
“Then why…?”
“Because I can’t. You’re a victim, I’m the agent investigating the case, it’s wrong. I’d be taking advantage of you, you’re in a vulnerable state right now.”
“I know what I want,” Merlin replied. “I want you.”
“And if you weren’t the victim and I weren’t the investigating agent, it would be fine. Don’t make this harder for me.”
“It seems like you’re the one making it hard for yourself,” Merlin said, shrugging.
“Merlin,” Arthur said, his tone warning him not to continue.
“Fine, whatever.”
He should have been glad that Merlin had dropped the issue. But really, what he wanted was for Merlin to argue, to convince him that it was ok.
Go to part 4
Author: go_fishboys
Prompt: self-prompt
Pairing(s): Merlin/Arthur
Word Count: 35k
Rating: R except for the epilogue, which is NC-17
Contains (Highlight to view): *mentions of experimentation on humans and aliens, forced pregnancies, violence, deaths of minor characters*
Disclaimer: Merlin characters are the property of Shine and BBC. No profit is being made and no copyright infringement is intended.
Notes: This fic is in no way inspired by The X-Files. Nope, not at all. As if.
Haha, no but really, this happened because I marathoned the show to prepare for the revival.
Huge thanks to Viv, my beta. This is very last minute, so any remaining mistakes are my own.
Summary: There’s no such thing as government conspiracies, right? That’s what Arthur used to believe as well until an anonymous informant convinced him to take on what will probably be the biggest case of his career.
read it on AO3
Arthur then made his way to his office in the X-Files. It was still officially his until tomorrow, so he was going to make good use of it.
He switched his computer on, and while it booted, he made himself a pot of nice, strong coffee.
Soon, Arthur was going through the FBI archives, looking through decades of files relating to his father’s own career within the Bureau, looking for anything that would connect him to his current case.
There had to be something.
But after three hours and five cups of coffee, Arthur was forced to admit that there was nothing in his father’s files that suggested any involvement in this case. Absolutely nothing.
Arthur sighed and rubbed his eyes. He’d really been hoping to find something tangible in his father’s files. All that work, and nothing. It was so frustrating, all these paths that led to dead ends. He had been so sure that his father was involved! And despite the lack of evidence, he still believed that his father was in some way involved in this whole affair. But what more could he do?
Just then, his email pinged, notifying him of a new message.
It was just a series of numbers, but Arthur recognised them as coordinates and a time - someone wanted to meet up in… Arthur glanced at the clock. It was just after one, so in half an hour. The coordinates, he recognised as being those of the Rising Sun.
And attached to the email was a file, a picture. And when Arthur opened it, he almost gasped in shock. There, amongst a group of people posing for a black and white photo, were his father and Gaius, both looking much younger. His father was wearing a crisp suit, as he always did, and Gaius was wearing a doctor’s coat on top of a suit.
There was a date stamped on the picture - 10/22/1963. Quickly glancing through his father’s files for that year, he found a case report, heavily redacted, with next to no information to glean. But there was a list of names that did at least confirm one thing for Arthur - both his father and Gaius had worked on something secret back in 1963.
**
Arthur wasn’t surprised to see his unofficial informant waiting for him at the specified time behind the Red Sun.
“Were you followed?” the informant asked.
“No,” Arthur replied. He’d kept an eye out, of course, but he hadn’t found anyone tailing him. Or if they were, they were bloody good at their job, because Arthur hadn’t noticed.
“Good. I don’t have long, they’re on to me.”
The informant reached into the inside pocket of his coat and pulled out a floppy disk.
“This will help,” he said. “I can’t give you any more, they’ll know that I gave it to you.”
“If you’re concerned they’re on to you, I can help,” Arthur said, taking the disk. “I can protect you.”
The informant laughed, an ugly, bitter sound. “Protect me? No one can protect me from them, especially not you, young Pendragon. They’re everywhere and they’re above the law.”
“I can protect you,” Arthur repeated.
“You have no idea who you’re up against,” the informant said. “I suggest you go home and acquaint yourself with the contents of that disk before it’s too late.”
“Is that a threat?” Arthur asked.
“A warning,” the informant replied. “They are ruthless when dealing with those that get in their way. They’re aware of your investigation but they do not know how deep you’ve reached yet. You don’t have much of a head start so don’t let them catch up.”
Then, just as Arthur opened his mouth to ask more questions in hopes of gleaning even the smallest piece of information, two shots rang in the lazy afternoon silence. Before Arthur could even react, the informant was stumbling, barely able to keep himself up straight. Before he could even process what had happened, a dark stain started to grow on the man’s chest.
Not again, Arthur thought. He was about to help the informant into a stable position before calling an ambulance.
“Don’t,” the informant rasped. “You don’t have long. There is no hope left if they catch you.”
So Arthur turned and ran as fast as he could, once again leaving a man to die alone while he saved himself. But still, the only thought that coursed through his mind was of Merlin, whether he was safe, or was he too late?
**
The reality of what had just happened had yet to really sink into Arthur’s brain. It still felt like a dream, like a nightmare, more accurately. How he had managed to escape the shooter (or shooters, he didn’t know) without being detected, he didn’t know. But he was grateful, so grateful. Unless, of course, he was let go on purpose.
He didn’t know what to think. All he knew was that Gwen and Merlin were in danger and he had to save them both.
“Anything?” he asked after Gwen opened the door for him. His heart was still beating loudly in his chest. He looked around, searching for the familiar sight of Merlin, and only when he saw him sitting on a stool, swinging from side to side gently, one hand gently caressing his stomach, did Arthur let himself take a breath of relief. It would only be short lived - they couldn’t afford to stay here.
“I’ve run some blood tests, there’s something weird in his blood,” Gwen whispered, sneaking covert glances at Merlin. She needn’t have worried, Merlin seemed a bit out of it, staring into space.
“Weird? What do you mean, weird?” Arthur asked, keeping his voice low as well. It was as if Gwen didn’t want Merlin to know. He’d probably freak out if he knew, Arthur thought.
“I don’t know yet,” Gwen replied. “It’s some sort of drug, that’s all I can tell you. I’ve never seen it before and I can’t find it in any of the FBI databases. And it’s not in any of my books. It’s incredible. Well, not incredible because it sucks that we don’t know anything about it, but the fact that there’s a drug out there that’s not on any official record!”
“Do you think it’s linked to the pregnancy?”
“Could be,” Gwen replied. “I can’t really tell you without knowing what it is and what it does.”
“Anything else?” Arthur asked.
“Well, the baby’s healthy,” Gwen said in a louder voice, so that Merlin could hear. “She’s definitely human, before you ask. I’m testing the DNA to see if the other father can be traced but that’ll take a few more hours, at least. And that’s only because I’m prioritising it because it’s you.”
Arthur smiled. “Thanks, Gwen. I really owe you.”
“You do. Now, why don’t you take Merlin home and let me work in peace. I’ve taken all the samples I need.”
Merlin was quiet as they made their way back to Arthur’s car, almost sullen. Arthur didn’t worry about it too much, he was probably still tired and the tests probably hadn’t helped. He had bigger things on his mind to preoccupy him, the floppy heavy in the pocket of his hoodie. It wasn’t until they were a fair distance from the FBI building, almost back at Arthur’s flat, that he spoke up.
“I heard, you know,” Merlin said. “About the weird thing in my blood.”
Arthur didn’t even need to ask him what he’d heard, he knew. And he felt guilty, again.
“We were just trying to protect you,” Arthur said. “I didn’t want to worry you.”
“Well, you failed,” Merlin replied harshly.
“I’m sorry,” Arthur said eventually, after the conversation had trailed off.
Merlin sighed. “Don’t be,” he said in a tired voice. He reached out with one hand, placing it on top of Arthur’s and squeezing it gently. Arthur felt warm, so warm from the contact, it was flooding his body, helping him relax. “I know you meant well.”
Merlin withdrew his hand, the warmth never leaving Arthur’s hand. “At least I know it - sorry, she, now, is healthy.”
“Does that bother you?” Arthur asked.
Merlin made a non-committal noise. “I dunno, I just wish this were all over.”
They made it back to Arthur’s flat safely. It took them longer than it should have because Arthur wanted to be absolutely, positively certain that he wasn’t being followed before he went home, taking detour after detour until he was satisfied he wasn’t being followed.
Of course, it was entirely possible that it had all been for moot - what if there was someone waiting in his building? He could no longer assume that his identity was still hidden to whoever was trying to kill them, which meant that his flat was possibly compromised. But where else could he go with Merlin? And on a Sunday, no less.
Arthur locked the door and, just to be absolutely certain, took a quick tour of his flat, Merlin right behind him as he checked every room, every corner.
“Has anything happened?” Merlin asked once Arthur had finally determined that his flat was safe.
Arthur hesitated for a moment whether or not to tell Merlin what had happened in the few hours that he’d been gone.
“Something’s happened, hasn’t it?” Merlin said. “Don’t hide it from me. I want to know.”
“They’re on to us,” Arthur simply said. The less he said about the murder, the better.
And he felt like he was right when he saw Merlin go tense, eyes wide with fear. “What do you mean, on to us? Like on to us?”
“Like on to us,” Arthur confirmed. “I don’t know how close they are or what they think we know, but things are getting dangerous.”
“Oh my god,” Merlin said, his voice almost a whisper. “We’re fucked!”
“No we’re not,” Arthur replied, switching his computer on. He needed to check the floppy while he still could. “I’m right here to protect you.”
“I’d just like to point out,” Merlin started, a hint of hysteria creeping into his voice, “that last time you tried to protect me by not telling me about the weird drug, you failed completely.”
“That was different,” Arthur said, not entirely focused on the conversation at hand. The floppy was a normal floppy, with a slightly torn label that just contained the words “Project Albion”. He inserted it in the drive and waited for it to boot.
Instead, a box came up, prompting a password.
“Dammit,” Arthur swore. This was perfect, just perfect. He was so, so close to a major breakthrough, one his informant had risked his life for, and here he was, stuck because said informant had failed to give him the fucking password to the fucking floppy.
“What’s the matter?” Merlin asked, peering over Arthur’s shoulder, curious. At least he no longer sounded on the verge of panic.
“Nothing,” Arthur said angrily. “Just another fucking hurdle.”
“Language!” Merlin interjected. “I won’t tolerate any swearing around the baby.”
“You don’t even care about the baby, I’ll swear all I fucking want,” Arthur barked.
“I might not care about the baby, but that doesn’t mean I’ll subject her to anything that would be bad for her,” Merlin said. “No need to be a prat about it.”
Arthur took a deep breath to calm himself down. “I’m not a prat,” he said.
“Then stop acting like one,” Merlin said reasonably. “Why don’t you let me try.”
Honestly, there were worse ideas than letting Merlin give it a try. It wasn’t as if he had any better leads anyway.
“Sure, why not,” Arthur said, moving aside to let Merlin sit down. “I’ll take you out for dinner if you can open it.”
“Was there anything on the floppy? Like writing, marks?” Merlin asked.
“It said ‘Project Albion’,” Arthur replied. “I didn’t see anything else.”
Merlin hmm’ed and started typing. Word after word, he was met with an “access denied” message, and even Arthur could tell that Merlin was starting to get frustrated.
“Who the fuck gave you this without giving you the password,” Merlin muttered. “Honestly.”
“Language, Merlin,” Arthur joked.
“Oh shut up,” Merlin retorted.
And then, suddenly, Merlin typed something, and instead of the “access denied” message, a folder opened, containing a few text files and a picture.
“Oh my god,” Merlin whispered, pointing at the screen. “I’m a genius! Looks like you owe me a meal!”
“Yeah, yeah,” Arthur said, crowding him to get a better look at the screen. “Not bad for an idiot.”
Merlin moved the cursor so that it was sitting on top of the button to close the window. “I can just let you figure it out, since you’re so smart,” Merlin said sarcastically. “I mean, since I’m only an idiot.”
Arthur ignored him. “What was the password anyway?”
“Excalibur,” Merlin said. “You know, Arthurian legends and all that? Bet you didn’t get teased as much as I did because of your name though.”
Excalibur. It made so much sense, Arthur thought. That was the last word Agent Smith had uttered, and it had etched itself in Arthur’s mind, just waiting for the right connection to come along.
Had he really been involved in this case for that long?
“Open the picture first,” he said.
“What am I, your servant?” Merlin muttered. “Do it yourself.”
Still, despite his muttering, Merlin double clicked on the picture.
It was similar to the picture Arthur had received earlier on, a group of young-ish men, posing. Some wore plain suits, others wore lab coats. The picture was dated from 1964, not much after the first picture.
And amongst them, Arthur recognised his father, Gaius, his uncle Agravaine, and, to his complete surprise, his informant. He couldn’t tell whether Agent Smith was amongst the men - the quality of the picture was pretty bad and Arthur could barely remember what he looked like anyway.
“Hey, that’s Gaius,” Merlin said, pointing at the man. “And isn’t that your father?”
Arthur took the mouse from Merlin, closing the picture and pushing him out of the way. Merlin huffed but let him.
He quickly scanned the file names of the three text files - report.txt, mission.txt and details.txt. He opened the report file first and almost gasped in surprise - it was the same file he’d encountered earlier, the heavily redacted, type-written file, only completely readable.
Date: 10/20/1963
On October 15th, 1963, we were called to the site of a crash in the Mojave Desert following normal procedure at coordinates 37°31′36″N 116°11′53″W. The information we had in our possession was that a civilian aircraft had crashed, and it was suspected that it had been shot down. Upon arrival at the crash site, we discovered that the object of the crash was not a civilian aircraft by any means, instead something that neither I nor my partner, Special Agent Pendragon, had ever encountered.
The aircraft in question, though badly damaged by the crash, had the shape of a long triangle, approximately 10 yards in length. The two occupants of the craft, one gravely injured, but alive, the other, dead, small gray-skinned biological entities, were taken into custody.
Special Agent Pendragon and I oversaw the clean-up effort and were instructed to transfer all pieces of the wreckage, as well as the biological entity, to Area 51 for further study.
Due to the location of the crash, there were no civilian witnesses. We continue to track activity in the region in case there were any witnesses and are prepared to intervene should such a situation occur.
Date: 10/20/1963 at: LAS VEGAS, NEVADA File #: XF-6309
By Special Agents: Kilgharrah, Pendragon Date dictated: 10/20/1963
Arthur couldn’t believe his eyes. This was it, this was the proof he had been looking for, that there was something deeper, more sinister to the abductions and forced pregnancies. He didn’t even try to deny that alien activity was involved in the case anymore. His father and special agent Kilgharrah, whoever he was, had discovered an alien ship and had proceeded to take it to a military base for research.
He then opened the mission file impatiently. He had a vague idea where this was heading, but he had to make sure. The file finally opened, too slow in Arthur’s opinion, and he started reading eagerly.
REPORT ON THE FINDINGS OF ALIEN CRAFT #X-001
Despite the damage sustained to both the ship and its occupants, my team and I were called in to examine the occupants to see whether we could find anything that would be of value to the government or the military. While the anatomy of the alien occupants is certainly different to ours, I do believe that we have come across a finding that will be of great use, especially in the aftermath of the assassination of President Kennedy. As such, I am writing this letter to request more funds to pursue this line of investigation.
Opening the abdomen of the dead occupant revealed that, despite our differences in anatomy, the occupant could be classified as male. This was confirmed by operating on the other occupant, both of whom have quasi-identical genitalia.
However, another discovery we made was the existence of a small life form in gestation within the abdomen of the living occupant, completely unconnected to any organs within the entity’s body. We took samples of both the occupant and the small life form and discovered that the small life form had the exact same DNA as the occupant - in essence, a clone.
We then closed the occupant’s abdomen and allowed the gestation to continue naturally, keeping an eye on its vitals to the best of our ability. We found that as the gestation, much shorter than in humans, went on, the concentration a certain molecule in the occupant’s blood increased in its serum. This molecule was completely absent in the dead host’s serum. We therefore believe that this molecule is linked to the pregnancy’s viability in a male host.
Following the ‘birth’ of the small life form, we observed the two entities, how they interacted. It was clear almost immediately that the occupant was distressed and in pain, and several times attempted to communicate with us. Of course, as no one understood the language, it took us a long time to figure out what the entity wanted.
Finally, we seemed to understand that it wanted access to its technology. We allowed this, under heavy guard by the military. Once allowed to use its technology, the entity went straight for a device which we had no yet determined its use. Placing the device on the smaller life form and placing its hand on top of it, there was a loud buzzing following which the occupant collapsed. Upon inspection, we discovered it was deceased and took the small life form back to its holding cell.
Over the following weeks, we observed the life form, that was growing at an astounding rate, much faster than prior to contact with the device until it appeared to reach the same relative ‘age’ as the occupant, as far as we could tell, at which point, its growing ceased. We then proceeded to test it in several ways to see if we could find out what the device might have done.
It is our hypothesis that the device is some sort of cloning device as it soon became clear to my team and me that the small life form had inherited the memories, thoughts and behavioural habits of the deceased occupant, almost as if its brain itself had been cloned. We started with simple tests, much the same as those we had administered to the occupant, such as reactions to painful stimuli or the ability to solve a simple problem to receive food.
Despite having never been the recipient of our tests, the small life form’s was able to anticipate and react to the painful stimuli test (the ringing of a bell followed by an electric shock) in a way identical to the occupant previously.
We have started experimentation on human subjects, unsuccessful as of yet.
As was said in the introduction, I do believe that, if harnessed, this technology would undoubtedly prove most useful as it would allow us to save the people in the highest positions of power in the event of an assassination or other form of death. Imagine what we could have done had we known of this technology before President Kennedy’s assassination. The nation would not have had to mourn the death of such an influential person.
The document was signed in the bottom - Gaius. Again, Gaius. He was everywhere in this case, a case that run so much deeper than he had ever thought possible.
If he was reading things correctly, and Arthur couldn’t quite bring himself to believe that he was, the FBI and the military were both involved, a fucking conspiracy theory come true. His own father was involved. At the time, it probably hadn’t meant very much, but now, as the director of the FBI… Just how high up did this case go?
And those three pictures Lancelot had brought in a while back… Arthur couldn’t prove it, but he was almost certain they were related. Further proof that the FBI was involved and making evidence disappear.
He hated to admit it, but maybe Lancelot and all his conspiracy theories had been right. There really was something going on here, something that involved so many higher-ups. And if Lancelot was right, had he been ‘taken care of’, as they would say? Arthur could only hope that they’d tried to shake Lancelot off their scent, sending him in the wrong direction. He refused to think for a single moment that Lancelot was dead.
“Arthur, are you alright?” Merlin asked. He’d moved to sit on the couch while Arthur read the files and was looking at him, blue eyes full of concern.
He didn’t know what to say. Was he alright? Sure, he wasn’t the one whose body was being used against his will to create… clones? Had he read that right? Clones?
But why Merlin? The file specifically said that the clone had been of the pregnant person. And Merlin’s baby was a girl - that was what Gwen had said, right? That… just didn’t add up. There must have been new developments since the file was written, clearly not long after the craft had been recovered. They’d had almost thirty years to perfect the process, and so many victims.
“Arthur?” Merlin asked again.
“It’s nothing,” he said. “I’m fine.”
Merlin didn’t look convinced, but fortunately, he didn’t press the issue. Arthur was glad, he really didn’t want Merlin to know any more than he already knew. He didn’t know how Merlin would react, anger, fear, something else? He couldn’t know just how dangerous things were. It was part of his job, protecting Merlin, even from the truth if it was in his best interest. He knew how Merlin would react if he found out Arthur was hiding things from him, but the longer he could keep the true nature of the case from him, the better.
In his mind, he came to a decision.
This had to end, and it had to end now.
He got up.
How he was going to accomplish that, he didn’t know. But he would start with what he knew. And what he knew was that his father was involved.
He checked his watch.
Not even five. His father would definitely still be at work.
Before he even had time to make plans for how he would confront his father, there was a knock at his door.
Arthur tensed, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw Merlin’s eyes open wide with fear.
“Go to the bedroom,” he hissed at Merlin. “Hurry!”
Merlin, thankfully, obeyed him and quietly made his way to the bedroom. Arthur could only hope that that would be enough to keep him safe. Because if whoever was on the other side of the door meant to kill them, it didn’t matter where Merlin went, they would find him.
There was another knock at the door. They meant business.
His heart was pounding in his chest and blood was roaring in his ears. He grabbed his gun, removed the safety while trying to compose himself.
He moved silently to the door, trying not to give anything away. He wanted the element of surprise to be on his side, he wanted those few extra micro-seconds to be his. Because sometimes, that meant the difference between life and death.
He glanced through the peephole to see who he was up against and let out a sigh of relief.
Gwen. Lovely Gwen.
He had never been so pleased to see her in his life.
He opened the door.
“Arthur, is everything alright?” she asked when she saw his face.
Arthur just ushered her in, closing and locking the door behind her.
“Everything’s fine,” Arthur said. “I thought you were someone else.”
“I don’t doubt it,” she replied, her eyes darting to the gun then back to Arthur.
“Why are you here?” Arthur asked.
“Oh, you know that DNA test I said I’d do for you?” Gwen asked. “The one to see if we could find the other father of the child?”
“You found something?” Arthur asked. “Go sit in the living room, I’ll go and get Merlin. He’ll probably want to hear this.”
Arthur found the door to his bedroom closed. Without thinking, he opened the door and was immediately met with a heavy pillow thrown straight in his face.
“Oh shit, Arthur!” Merlin said. “Sorry, I didn’t think it was you.”
“It’s fine, I’m alright,” Arthur replied, trying not to snap at Merlin. He didn’t want to discourage him from defending himself. Because maybe, sometime soon, Arthur wouldn’t be there to protect him. And really, could he blame him? Arthur probably would have reacted the same, especially with him telling Merlin to hide.
“Who was at the door?” Merlin asked, brushing Arthur’s hair off his face with a gesture so tender that it made his heart ache. It was so unfair that they’d met in these circumstances because, as Arthur was slowly starting to discover, Merlin was everything he wanted in a partner.
“Gwen,” Arthur replied, forcing himself to turn away from Merlin’s touch. “I think she knows who the other father is.”
“That’s assuming one of the fathers is me to begin with,” Merlin muttered, following Arthur back to the living room.
Arthur didn’t say anything, pretending he hadn’t heard Merlin. But secretly, he agreed. Given what they knew so far, there was no reason to simply believe that the child had anything to do with Merlin in the first place.
Gwen was sitting in one of the armchairs facing the couch, so Merlin and Arthur both sat in front of her.
“I’m not sure this is news you want to hear,” Gwen started as soon as they were seated. “I couldn’t believe it myself when I first got the results. I mean, what the hell? It’s just too big of a coincidence. But I checked again and it came back the same, so it must be true.”
“What result is that?” Arthur asked.
He was on edge. What kind of news was Gwen going to break to them that she thought Merlin didn’t want to hear it? Was it…
“Is it part alien then?” Merlin asked, sounding resigned.
“What?” Gwen said. “No, no, nothing like that. The DNA’s definitely human.”
“Then what?” Arthur asked.
“Well,” Gwen started, clearly stalling. “As suspected, Merlin is one of the fathers. That’s almost certain.”
“But…?” Arthur prompted when it became clear that Gwen wasn’t going to continue.
“But…” she finally said. “The other father is you, Arthur.”
The news hit Arthur like a tonne of bricks. How was that even possible? He hadn’t… He’d never…
“What?” he heard Merlin ask faintly.
“I’m sorry,” Gwen said. “But I’ve checked the results. You’re definitely the other father, Arthur.”
Arthur’s body sagged back against the couch cushions. He could hear Gwen and Merlin calling him, but all he could focus on was Gwen’s voice, repeating “the other father is you” over and over again. And no matter how many times he heard it, he still couldn’t believe it.
Fuck.
Then, there was a warm hand against his arm, slicing through the ice cold of panic.
“Arthur, are you alright?”
Merlin.
He blinked once, forcing himself to focus on the present, on Merlin’s warm hand.
“No,” he said weakly. “I’m not alright.”
Gwen gave him a sad smile. “I’m sorry, I wish I had better news.”
“It’s not your fault, Gwen.”
No, it was his father’s fault. His father and that fucking group who were messing with innocent people’s lives. He was so fucking angry, he felt like he would shoot them all if ever he found them.
But he couldn’t, a small part of him said, a small part that hadn’t been hardened by time and cases, a small part that still believed in justice.
What justice, Arthur wanted to snap. There would be no justice for men like his father. They were too powerful, too connected. Arthur was nothing to them, nothing more than a mosquito buzzing in their ears, annoying and tolerated to a certain point, but easily squashed.
And still, Arthur found himself agreeing. Death was too easy for those people. He would make sure that they paid for their crimes, that they would spend the rest of their days rotting in jail.
“I should go,” Gwen said, standing up. “Call me if you need my help again.”
“Thanks, Gwen,” Arthur said.
“Don’t get up,” Gwen said. “I’ll see myself out.”
Once the door closed behind her, Arthur and Merlin sat in silence for a long, tense moment, Merlin’s hand never moving from Arthur’s arm.
“I’m sorry,” Arthur said eventually, turning to look at Merlin.
Merlin jumped at the sudden sound of his voice, his hand dropping from Arthur’s arm leaving him feeling bereft.
“What?”
“The… you know,” Arthur said, awkwardly gesturing at Merlin’s stomach.
“Oh,” Merlin said, rubbing his belly gently. “It’s not your fault.”
“But -”
“But nothing,” Merlin interrupted, quiet but firm. “I know that you have nothing to do with this.”
“How can you be so sure?” Arthur asked. “You barely know me.”
Merlin gave him a small smile. “I know you enough to know that you’re not involved in this mess. You’re a good person, I’m sure you are.”
Arthur didn’t know what to say to that. It was so awkward to be on the receiving side of such a compliment - that Merlin thought he was a good person from what little time they’d spent together. And so, the silence returned, not as tense as before, but not comfortable either.
“You know what?” Merlin eventually said.
Arthur turned again, and saw Merlin looking up at him through his lashes, fragile and uncertain.
He took a deep breath before continuing. “I could really, really use a hug right now,” he said.
Arthur nodded and reached out, pulling Merlin closer to him, wrapping his arms around his warm body. Merlin went willingly, almost melting into Arthur, burying his face in the crook of Arthur’s neck.
He was shaking, Arthur realised. He ran his hand up and down his back, slowly, gently, hoping that he could get Merlin to relax a bit.
“Why did this happen to me?” Merlin whispered shakily.
Arthur just hugged Merlin tighter as he cried, sniffling softly every now and then.
They stayed like that for a long time, quiet but for the sounds of Merlin’s sniffling.
All Arthur could think of was how much he hated his father in that moment, for putting Merlin through this ordeal for his own gain. He didn’t know if he’d have the strength to arrest his father and not kill him.
But for Merlin, he thought, he’d do anything. And such a thought should have been scary, but more than anything, Arthur found it comforting.
Eventually, Merlin’s sniffles died down and they continued sitting there, holding each other close. It was like being in the eye of the storm, quiet before everything went to hell again. And Arthur wanted to drag it out as long as possible.
Merlin pulled back slightly, his hands sliding down to Arthur’s waist. His eyes were wet and red from crying, but he looked resolved.
“That night at the motel,” he started, rushing as if he needed to get the words out of him before he forgot. “It wasn’t nothing for me.”
Arthur took a deep breath. This was it, the conversation he had been dreading. He’d hoped Merlin wouldn’t bring it up, at least not until they’d solved the case. But clearly, that was not to be.
“It wasn’t nothing for me either,” he admitted in a quiet voice.
“What?” Merlin gasped.
Arthur let out a shaky laugh. “God, Merlin, you have no idea how much you mean to me. There’s something about you.”
“Then why…?”
“Because I can’t. You’re a victim, I’m the agent investigating the case, it’s wrong. I’d be taking advantage of you, you’re in a vulnerable state right now.”
“I know what I want,” Merlin replied. “I want you.”
“And if you weren’t the victim and I weren’t the investigating agent, it would be fine. Don’t make this harder for me.”
“It seems like you’re the one making it hard for yourself,” Merlin said, shrugging.
“Merlin,” Arthur said, his tone warning him not to continue.
“Fine, whatever.”
He should have been glad that Merlin had dropped the issue. But really, what he wanted was for Merlin to argue, to convince him that it was ok.
Go to part 4