Faded expectations (trust no one) - part 2 [Merlin/Arthur - 35k - NC-17]
Title: Faded expectations (trust no one) - part 2
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
Eleven o’clock found Arthur waiting behind the school where Deagal taught, hiding in the shadows. He could hear the traffic from the main road - not that there was much at this time of night, just a few vehicles, some stopped by the lights, some going straight past. The school yard was dark, and it was impossible to see anything beyond what little light the moon provided as it danced between the clouds.
This was dangerous, a part of Arthur was repeating as he waited. While the darkness hid him, it also meant he couldn’t see if anyone was spying on them. He didn’t like it, he was too vulnerable.
Deagal hadn’t arrived yet, Arthur was almost certain. Hopefully, he wouldn’t be long. Arthur hated standing around, waiting, especially meetings like this, secret, in the middle of the night, with a person he barely knew, in hopes of gleaning some information.
After a long five minutes of waiting, Arthur heard footsteps behind him and turned.
“Sorry I’m late, my wife had an asthma attack,” said Deagal in lieu of greeting, coming to stand in front of him. Arthur could barely make out his features in the dark. “I had to make sure she was alright.”
“Let’s cut to the chase, Mr Williams,” Arthur said, not sharp, but professional. “You wanted to talk.”
“Yes.”
“About 1988?”
“Yes.”
Deagal took a deep, shuddering breath, nervous. He didn’t want to do this, Arthur could tell. He let him take his time. Sometimes it paid to be patient, and this was one of those times. He needed to know, and he couldn’t afford to lose this one witness.
“It happened on October 31st - Halloween. I didn’t really want to go out, I was going to spend the evening with my new girlfriend. But her friends had invited her out, so when a friend invited me to a party, I didn’t say no.”
“He didn’t live far,” Deagal continued. “So I walked. Besides, it was pretty warm for that time of year. I was wearing my favourite jacket. I haven’t been able to wear it since - too many bad memories. So I came up to the main street, I was waiting at the lights to cross when a car came up to me fast. The brakes squealed as it came to a stop, right in front of me. I can remember that moment so well, it felt like things were moving in slow-mo. Before I knew it, I’d been pulled into the car. I didn’t even have time to see what kind of car it was, it happened so quickly.”
Deagal was quiet for a moment. “I don’t really remember anything after that, just a few flashes.” His voice was quiet when he resumed. “Like a very bright, white room. And people in white coats and masks, standing around me, looking, taking notes. And then I woke up in a graveyard, wearing the clothes I’d been wearing the night I was taken. I didn’t know where I was or what day it was. Nothing. The cops found me stumbling down the street in the middle of the night. I was so cold, that’s the main impression I keep of that time. Then I learned that it was Wednesday, early morning - I lost two days! I told everyone I’d just gone a bit mad, needed some time alone. I didn’t think they’d believe me. Even I could barely believe it.”
“Who do you think kidnapped you?” Arthur asked.
“I don’t really know,” Deagal said, voice still low. He looked around them briefly, almost paranoid, like he thought someone was listening. It put Arthur on edge too. He’d checked the perimeter, of course, but that wasn’t a guarantee that no one was listening to their conversation.
“That wasn’t the end of it,” Deagal continued, speaking faster, like he needed to get it off his chest as quickly as possible. “One of the cops who found me recommended a therapist, said he was real good with abduction victims. I didn’t know who else to call, so I did. He was great, I thought. I felt like I could trust him with my dirty secret, and he believed me! I couldn’t believe it! I felt so lucky! He put me on a course of experimental anti-depressants, said they were especially good with people who had been through what I’d been through.”
“Everything was fine for a few months - four, I want to say, maybe a bit less, maybe a bit more. Then, I started getting this weird feeling in my gut. I thought it was just gastric flu. Then something started growing in there, and I was so fucking scared. I thought it was cancer! I thought that it was related to the abduction so I told my therapist. He didn’t seem too pleased to hear that and he dismissed me.”
Deagal took a deep breath, probably to calm himself. “That night, I was alone at home. I was single then - it didn’t last with my girlfriend. There was a knock at the door at about ten. I thought it was weird and really late, but one of my friends had been having car trouble so I thought maybe he needed to use my phone to call a tow truck.”
“It wasn’t my friend,” he said in a shaky, panicked voice. Part of Arthur wanted to tell him that it was ok, that he was safe, that he didn’t have to put himself through this, but he needed to know what had happened. This was his only chance. “Some guys in black suits. They put a cloth to my face. When I woke up, I was in a cell. A nice cell - as nice as a cell can get, I suppose - with a bed and a blanket. They even gave me books. They kept me there for months. They treated me well, but I wasn’t allowed to leave. They only let me leave when it was all over.”
“What was all over?” Arthur asked. He suspected what the answer might be, but he needed Deagal to say it, to put it into words for him.
“I - The… Pregnant,” Deagal said. “It wasn’t a tumour, I was pregnant. I don’t know how, I don’t know why, all I know is I carried a child for months, they operated to take it out. I still have a scar, I have to pretend that it’s from appendicitis with complications. He kept tabs on me, my therapist. He was involved. I’d get regular visits, to see how it was doing, if anything needed to be done, if I was taking proper care of myself for its sake. I think it was from when I was abducted that first time. It must have been the government, the military. I don’t know! Who else could do something like that and suffer no consequences for it?”
“What happened after they removed the child?” Arthur asked. In the background, he could hear a loud car coming their way. He would have ignored it, like he had ignored all traffic, if not for something in the back of his mind telling him to be careful.
“They let me go. They gave me a new home, a new job. I was told I couldn’t tell anyone about it. It wasn’t an explicit threat, but I knew they’d kill me without hesitation. I wasn’t allowed to contact anyone from my past life. I don’t know what they were told, but they were told that I would never return. And I followed their instructions, until today.”
“Your therapist, what was his name?” Arthur asked.
Just as Deagal was about to answer, a two shots rang in the air, and Deagal collapsed to the ground, dead, one bullet straight to the head.
Arthur could hear footsteps running away, so he followed, running as fast as he could. He pulled his gun out the holster as he ran. He turned the corner of the building and suddenly, he could see. The streetlights were bathing the front yard in yellow-ish orange light.
Just a few yards from him was the killer. Arthur was catching up, slowly, but surely. Then he saw a dark-coloured car, waiting at the entrance to the school, on the pavement, one door open. There was a man in the driver’s seat and the engine was running, just waiting for the other man to jump in.
Arthur swore and pushed himself harder, blood pounding in his ears. He was going to fucking lose them, he couldn’t let the killer reach that car.
He was so close, so so close, but the killer dove into the car before Arthur could catch him. He barely caught a glimpse of the killer before the driver sped off, tires squealing against the asphalt, leaving Arthur panting on the pavement, watching them drive away.
“Fuck!”
**
A few hours later, Arthur was boarding a plane to Seattle, his gun in a closed case in his small carry-on bag. The last few hours had left him on edge, antsy. He couldn’t focus on the magazine he’d bought at the airport, instead going over his conversation with Deagal over and over again, to draw out any useful information whatsoever. He felt guilty for leaving his body where it had fallen, but he couldn’t wait any longer. They, whoever they were, were onto him. He didn’t have much time.
His shooting confirmed Gaius’s guilt in his mind. He was almost certain that the therapist Deagal had been seeing had been Gaius. Who else could it have been?
It was late afternoon, the sun setting above the hills, colouring everything in warm, golden light, when Arthur, in his rental car, drove into Ealdor.
Even though it was pretty late, and even though he wanted to keep a low profile, he was banging at Merlin’s front door, waiting for him to answer.
The door didn’t open, but Merlin called out. “Who is it?” sounding a bit worried.
“Special agent Pendragon, I need to speak to you immediately.”
This time, the door did open, and Merlin ushered him into the living room without asking any questions. There were pictures on the table, of a pre-pregnancy Merlin, skinny, with an infectious smile, and another man Arthur didn’t recognise.
“Who’s that?” he asked.
“Is this the urgent matter?” Merlin asked, clearly unimpressed. He sighed then and sat down, gesturing for Arthur to sit down as well. “My boyfriend - ex-boyfriend now, I suppose - Will. We’d been together since freshman year. He left after I was… After I was abducted.”
“Sorry.”
Merlin shrugged. “It’s for the best, how the fuck am I supposed to explain my condition anyway?”
“Your condition, yes,” Arthur said, focusing on the job at hand. “Gaius, your doctor, how well do you know him?”
“Pretty well,” Merlin answered. “He’s my mum’s uncle, he’d come and visit us in England every year or so, he was really nice. Stern, but nice. Then when mum decided to leave England in protest after Thatcher brought up the poll tax, he helped us settle here. I’ve known him my whole life.”
Arthur thought that that was rather ironic - moving to the US, of all places, over that? - but he let it slide.
“Do you trust him?”
“As much as you can trust a person, I suppose.”
“After you were abducted, did he do anything strange?” Arthur asked, hoping that Merlin wouldn’t need directing towards the information Arthur wanted to hear.
“Like what?” Merlin asked. “I mean, he was there for me when I came back. I was so confused and scared, I didn’t know who or what to trust, or if my experience had actually happened or what. I had these nightmares, awful nightmares about being tested on by people in like hazmat suits. He believed me, unlike Will. Not that I blame Will - it was hard to be around me then. Gaius gave me this experimental treatment for PTSD, saying it worked really well and that I’d be feeling better soon enough. Then he disappeared, I found out that I was pregnant, and it’s been really hard since then.”
“How did you find out you were pregnant?”
“I... It was Gwaine’s idea, really. He thought it would be hilarious to buy me a pregnancy test, and it came back positive.”
“Wait, Gwaine? As in motel manager Gwaine?”
“Yes. I worked there as a receptionist one summer, we became friends. He’s a nice guy. So, after the first one came back positive, he decided to buy a few more and they all came back positive. The reason he’d bought them was because I was complaining of this strange feeling in my abdomen and he said I was acting really moody. It was a joke, it was supposed to make me feel better! He’s been a great help since.”
Arthur nodded.
“I can’t go out like this,” Merlin said, gesturing at his swollen belly. “He gets me groceries, takes care of the garden, you know, he helps out. Sometimes he’ll take me out for a drive at night, to somewhere secluded where I can get out for a walk. I miss being able to go out, I really do. But I can’t be seen like this. It’s a small town, everyone’ll know, I’ll be seen as a freak.”
“I’m sorry,” he said professionally, not sure what he could say to sympathise with Merlin. There were no words, really. What could you say when somebody’s life was being ruined by something beyond their control?
Merlin shrugged again. “’S not your fault.”
“You say you know Gaius well,” Arthur said, changing the topic abruptly. “Since you’ve been here, have you been to his house at all?”
“Yeah, he invites us over for dinner every once in a while, and I went to see him while he was helping me get through the abduction issues I had.”
“So you’d know if anything were amiss?”
“I guess,” Merlin replied. “I dunno, it’s been a while since I’ve been there. Are you still investigating his disappearance?”
“If I took you there now, would you be able to see if anything’s different?”
“Maybe? But I can’t go out, what if somebody sees me?”
“I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important. I can protect you.”
Merlin sighed. “I don’t need protecting. I need to look less like a beached whale.”
“You look fine,” Arthur said almost immediately, not even thinking before speaking.
Merlin raised an eyebrow at him, dubious. “I do not, I look ridiculous.”
“Fine, fine, if you say so,” Arthur said impatiently. Time was ticking. The longer he stayed here, the longer it gave the people he was up against time to arrive, kill Merlin, and destroy any evidence of this… conspiracy. “Listen, I need your help, and I don’t have much time. A man was killed last night, and I need to know if anything’s… different. And I need to get you away from here before they come and kill you. You’re the last witness I have, after this, the case goes cold, and whoever did this to you gets away. And I won’t let that happen, this just isn’t right.”
Arthur had let himself grow angry as he ranted. This was the most exciting, yet most frustrating case he’d ever handled. And Deagal was dead, because of him, because he’d talked to Arthur, because he’d wanted to help. He should have protected him, he should have paid attention to that stupid car, Deagal shouldn’t be dead.
Now all he had left was Merlin, and there was no way he would let Merlin end up like Deagal. Enough people had died because of this case, the people behind it, it had to come to an end.
Merlin was looking at him curiously. “You’re different from what I expected,” he said. “I thought you were a prat.”
Arthur huffed a laugh. Merlin hadn’t seen him at his best, that was certain. “Well, it’s better than being an idiot,” he retorted.
Merlin gave him this huge smile that lit up his face completely and for a moment, Arthur was completely stunned.
“I’ll go with you,” Merlin said. “It’s getting dark, and most people are still at work. Probably.”
He stood up with difficulty, both hands pushing up on the arm rests. Arthur had moved towards him, to help him up, but Merlin had glared at him. It seemed like they had that in common at least, stubborn and self-reliant.
Merlin grabbed a light blanket that was strewn over the back of the armchair.
“What are you doing?” Arthur asked.
Merlin smiled at him again, smaller, amused, and it went straight to Arthur’s heart. He could feel his cheeks grow warm, almost like he had a crush on Merlin, a man he barely knew.
“What I do when Gwaine takes me on my forbidden walks,” Merlin said, leaning forward and wrapping the blanket around his shoulders so that it hung lightly around his form, enough to hide his stomach from casual on-lookers.
**
They made it to Gaius’s without problems, concealed by the dimming light. Like last time, Arthur went round back, Merlin following right behind him. He kept his hand on his gun, not taking any chances after last night. The back door was locked, which Arthur had managed by finding a set of dusty keys on the bedside table. Therefore this time, there was no need for Arthur to show off his lock-picking skills. It was a bit of a shame, he was sure Merlin would have been impressed.
As far as Arthur could tell, no one had been here since Arthur last had visited. He relaxed a little and let his hand fall from his gun, but he remained alert, ready for anything.
“Are you sure we should be doing this, agent Pendragon?” Merlin whispered. He was still right behind Arthur and was hunched over, as if he was trying to make himself smaller, more discreet.
“Call me Arthur,” Arthur said. “Agent Pendragon reminds me of my father too much.”
He wasn’t sure why he’d revealed that information to Merlin, but he had. He felt… almost comfortable around him, as if they’d known each other for much, much longer than they actually had.
“He’s the director of the FBI, right?”
“So?” Arthur snapped. He’d worked hard to get where he was, he wasn’t going to let Merlin imply anything else, no matter what complicated feelings he might harbour towards him.
“Nothing. Just… Must be tough, you probably have a lot of expectations placed upon you,” Merlin said hesitantly.
Arthur relaxed. “I’m on official business, it’s fine,” Arthur replied to Merlin’s first question, changing the topic.
“But I’m not,” Merlin whispered, going along with the change of topic. “What if they call the cops?”
“It’s fine, Merlin, nobody’ll actually notice we’re in here anyway.”
“You say that,” Merlin pointed out. “But you can’t be certain.”
“Will you just shut up?” Arthur whispered back.
He saw Merlin roll his eyes before turning away.
They made it to Gaius’s surgery, where everything, in Arthur’s opinion, was as he’d left it, dusty and disused. Merlin headed straight for the bookcase and Arthur let him be.
Arthur pulled out the list of victims he’d found at the FBI and started looking through Gaius’s files. At least he knew what he was looking for this time so it wouldn’t take too long to check his list against the files.
And there were a few, sure, mostly local, but the vast majority of victims were nowhere to be found amongst Gaius’s patients.
Arthur sighed. So much for that line of inquiry then. It was all just a big coincidence, and he was back at square one. No information, no clues, no idea what was going on, nothing.
“Merlin!” he called quietly. Merlin turned to look at him. “Have you seen anything that seems strange, out of place to you?” he asked, hoping that Merlin would have better news for him.
“You know, I was looking at his bookcase and it’s all medical journals or books, except for one,” Merlin said. “I noticed it because it’s the book I got him for his birthday a few years ago, Le Malade Imaginaire by Molière. I thought it would be funny, you know? Malade Imaginaire? Doctor?” Merlin laughed, like it was a particularly funny joke. “Also, for an old, fancy edition of it, it was pretty cheap,” he added.
Merlin went to grab Arthur’s hand and pulled him towards the bookcase. For a second, all that Arthur could focus on was the warmth of Merlin’s hand on his.
“See?” Merlin said, pointing at a hardcover book. “I mean, it could be that he just really likes it, but it doesn’t seem like it belongs.”
Arthur tried to pull the book out of the bookcase, to see if there was anything inside, anything hidden, but instead, the book triggered a mechanism. There was a quiet rumbling sound followed by the rug in the middle of the floor sagging over a newly uncovered hole.
Arthur looked at the rug, then back at Merlin. “Did you…?”
Merlin nodded slowly, keeping his eyes on the rug. “What the fuck is going on here?”
“I wish I could tell you.”
The hole turned out to give onto a flight of stairs, small and steep, in a cramped tunnel. Arthur went first, flashlight at the ready.
“Stay here,” he told Merlin. “It might not be safe.”
“Forget it,” Merlin replied. “I’m not staying up here to be caught breaking and entering by the police. I’m going with you.”
Arthur didn’t even try to argue. He was finding that Merlin was far too stubborn for his own good, and arguing would just waste precious time.
“Fine,” he said. “Just be careful, we don’t know what’s down there.”
At the bottom of the flight of stairs was a dark room. And when Arthur shone his flashlight over it, he found that it was almost like a second examination room, complete with machines, an examination table and, in the corner, a chest of drawers which, upon closer inspection, were full of the normal equipment found in an examination room - packs of needles, gauze, gloves, sanitiser… There was also a desk in the corner next to a filing cabinet.
This was exactly what Arthur had been hoping for. A breakthrough. There was no reason for Gaius to have a second examination room, especially such a well-hidden one. Not unless he was up to suspicious or illegal activities. For the first time in a long, long time, Arthur was feeling confident that he’d find something here, something that would shed some light on this whole case.
“It’s so fucking dark,” he heard Merlin mutter behind him. Then he heard him mutter a word he couldn’t comprehend and the room was filled with a soft light.
Arthur turned to look at Merlin who had a smug grin on his face.
“Magic,” he said proudly. “Pretty neat, huh?”
Arthur didn’t really know what to say so he just nodded dumbly, which only caused Merlin’s grin to grow smugger. And Arthur didn’t even find it annoying, instead, he found it sort of charming. He was doomed.
Arthur first headed for the filing cabinet. And sure enough, it was full of files whose names matched the names on Arthur’s list, and even more names that Arthur hadn’t even found during his search. So many people involved, so many people whose lives had been tampered with. So many dead victims.
He quickly found Merlin’s file. The best way to find out what exactly was going on was to compare it to something he knew, and something that another person could verify, i.e. Merlin himself.
It seemed to contain the same kind of information the file upstairs contained, only this file contained an entry dated two days ago scribbled hastily, with a series of measurements that certainly hadn’t been in Merlin’s other file.
“Merlin,” Arthur shout-whispered. “Come over here.”
“What?” Merlin whispered back. “Why are we whispering? I thought you said we wouldn’t be caught.”
“Shut up and look at this.”
He pushed the file towards Merlin and waited, watching him while he perused the page. Arthur knew when he reached the last entry because his eyes went wide and his hands were shaking.
“That’s… Fuck!” Merlin swore, voice trembling. “Arthur, how do they know all this? They’ve got my weight pretty much correct, like they’re off by a pound!”
Arthur put his hand on Merlin’s shoulder to ground him, to comfort him. “Are you sure?”
“Yes! I’ve been keeping track of things like my weight just to make sure nothing’s… nothing’s… Oh my god, Arthur, what the fuck is going on here?”
“Hey, it’s alright, it’s ok,” Arthur murmured gently. He put his hands on Merlin’s arms and rubbed them up and down comfortingly. “I’m here; nothing’s going to happen to you.”
“You can’t promise that,” Merlin replied. There were tears in his eyes and it physically hurt Arthur to see Merlin so scared. He just wanted to pull him close and shield him from the world and its horrors. “You said they killed someone last night! I’m next!”
“I promise I’ll protect you,” Arthur said in a soothing voice. “I’m an FBI agent, it’s what I’m good at.”
Merlin seemed to relax slightly, but Arthur didn’t let up his ministrations. Merlin was so warm, and under his soft sweater, he could feel his solid, trembling arms. It felt good, too good, and he really should stop before he went too far, before he stepped onto dangerous territory.
“Do you remember what you were doing two days ago?” Arthur asked.
“I was working on this translation - I’m a translator, I translate texts to and from Old English. It’s mostly for TV shows and novels and things like that, you know. It’s mostly rubbish but some of it is pretty cool. Gwaine came by at lunch time with chocolate ice cream. God, you have no idea how much I’ve been craving chocolate anything recently. It was like he heard my thoughts! But other than that, I was busy working on that translation. I gave it to Gwaine to put in the post yesterday. I… I remember watching TV, it was maybe seven in the evening? And then I must have fallen asleep because I woke up and it was eleven. I don’t think I felt weird or anything, I just woke up and saw it was late. Then I went to bed and that’s about it.”
“Did you notice anything strange? Maybe a car broken down outside? Someone looking for directions? Or even just someone you’d never seen before.”
Merlin shook his head. “No, nothing,” he said. “I don’t remember anything.”
“They must have done it between seven and eleven,” Arthur said.
He didn’t mention, of course, the fact that Gwaine, motel manager Gwaine, Merlin’s friend Gwaine, was a suspect in his mind. For Merlin’s sake, he hoped he wasn’t. The last thing he needed was another person to betray him, but he had turned up unannounced, unexpected on that very day. And he knew Merlin, probably knew Merlin’s house well too. It was all too suspicious, and Arthur would be damned if he was going to take this lightly.
“But how?”
“I have no idea,” Arthur replied. “But you’re not going back to your house after this, you’re staying with me. It’s not safe.”
Merlin nodded shakily.
“Don’t worry,” Arthur repeated gently, but firmly. “I’ll protect you.”
Merlin gave him a watery, hesitant smile, tugging at the corner of his mouth, before shaking his head and reaching up to rub his eyes. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to get all weepy on you. I guess it’s hormones. I mean, they do say that about pregnant women, right? I get these massive moodswings, like crying, or angry, or whatever for no reason.”
Arthur just nodded in understanding. Honestly, he couldn’t even blame Merlin for being emotional - it couldn’t be easy to be faced with the fact that you had been experimented on by someone you trusted deeply. He didn’t know what it was like to feel that way, not from personal experience, but he’d seen so many cases, so many people, over the years he’d worked at the Bureau that he’d developed some form of understanding. Some form of empathy.
They stood like that, in silence, facing each other, Arthur’s hands warm on Merlin’s arms. From close up, Arthur could see that Merlin’s eyes were so blue. He couldn’t look away, he was drawn to Merlin in a way he didn’t quite understand yet, but in a way he truly wanted to explore.
Maybe, just maybe, he was actually gay. And maybe it was alright, too.
And then, just as he started leaning forward and Merlin’s eyes fluttered closed, there came noise from upstairs. Two male voices, speaking quietly, coming closer.
The middle of a case was not the moment for personal revelations.
They jumped apart, and for one short moment, all Arthur could think of was how much he missed feeling Merlin under his hands.
“Arthur!” Merlin whispered, panicking, eyes wide open and wild. “What do we do now?”
Arthur wished he had a good answer to Merlin’s question. He didn’t. They were stuck in this underground room, with nowhere out without being seen by the two men upstairs.
All he could do was pull out his gun and hope he had the element of surprise in his favour. He wasn’t going down without a fight, and he certainly wasn’t going to let anyone get to Merlin. Two men, as far as he could tell - he’d faced worse odds.
“Arthur!” Merlin whispered again. Arthur was just about to brush him off, he couldn’t afford to be distracted right now. It was a matter of life or death. But Merlin continued anyway. “Look! In the corner there.”
And Arthur looked. There, hidden in the shadows where Merlin’s magic didn’t quite reach, was what looked like another door. Leading to where, neither of them knew, but what Arthur did know was that it was a much better option than standing there without cover.
“Come on,” Arthur said, pulling Merlin towards the door.
It opened easily. Arthur ushered Merlin through the door, before following him, closing the door behind them. The room was plunged into darkness once more and Arthur hoped that it would be enough to keep the two men from finding the door, finding them.
The door opened onto a corridor with a low ceiling. At the end was another flight of stairs that led to a trap door. The trap door, as they found out, opened onto the side of Gaius’s house. Arthur pulled Merlin towards a clump of low bushes, hoping the bushes, combined with the darkness of the night would keep them hidden from sight.
For a moment, everything was quiet and motionless. Arthur’s heart was pounding in his chest with nerves. He had his gun out, ready to shoot, and waiting like this was putting him on edge. Beside him, Merlin was faring no better. He was lying on his side to accommodate his stomach, and Arthur could hear his rapid, panicked breathing. He wanted to reach out to comfort him, but he couldn’t. He had to stay focused if he wanted to get them out of this situation alive.
Then the two men walked around the corner of the house, the hazy light from the moon dancing off the barrels of their guns.
“Y peuvent pas être loin,” said one of them. “Chuis sûr qu’ils étaient dans la pièce secrète du toubib.”
“Ferme-la et continue à chercher,” said the other. “On est dans la merde si on les retrouve pas, surtout le fils Pendragon.”
Arthur couldn’t understand what they were saying. Foreign languages had never been his strong point. But the men were coming closer to them, and the closer they got, the less certain Arthur became that the bushes would conceal them.
Then, suddenly, he didn’t quite know what happened, but Merlin must have moved because the branches of the bush were rustling, calling to the two men.
“Là ! Derrière le putain d’buisson,” shouted one of the men.
And shit, shit, they were coming their way. Arthur had his gun out, completely focused on the task at hand. For a moment, he was perfectly aware of his surroundings, the hazy moonlight, the smell of the grass and bushes, Merlin’s breathing, and the sound of footsteps in the grass. He waited with bated breath for them to come closer, and then, when they were close enough, he would shoot them. He had a very small margin of error, but Arthur was sure he could make the shots. They were going to make it.
What he didn’t count on was Merlin grabbing his arm to keep him still. Arthur turned to see what the hell Merlin was doing. Merlin’s eyes glowed golden as he whispered a word that Arthur, again, couldn’t make out.
The men were in front of the bushes, they made their way round them, and they didn’t stop.
“Putain, ça devait être un chat ou un truc dans l’genre,” said one of the men.
“Bordel,” said the other. “Y’s ont réussi à s’échapper alors. On est vraiment dans la merde là.”
And then they were walking away, back to the car that Arthur had only just noticed. He couldn’t be certain, but it looked like the same car that had been waiting the night Deagal was murdered.
He watched as they drove away and allowed himself a deep breath to calm down. They’d made it, they were both alive, and both still free.
He stood up and put his hand out to help Merlin up.
“How did you do that?” he asked as they walked back to Arthur’s car.
Arthur wasn’t stupid. This time, he hadn’t parked anywhere near Merlin’s house. He’d left the car by the church in the centre, between other, similar dark cars.
“It’s magic,” Merlin said. They walked under a streetlight and Arthur turned to look at Merlin. He was grinning at him mischievously, though he still looked tired and beside himself with worry. “I was born with it.”
**
Arthur drove them to Gwaine’s motel. It wasn’t the brightest idea he’d had, but he figured that this way, he could keep an eye on Gwaine. And if they stayed here, maybe they’d be taken in peacefully rather than gunned down by two unknown men.
He quickly smuggled Merlin into his room, closing the door behind them and locking it.
Merlin stood in the middle of the room, looking like he didn’t know what to do with himself. He was shivering, whether it was from the cold of the night or from nerves, Arthur couldn’t tell.
“Merlin, you’re shaking,” he said gently. “Go take a shower, you’ll feel better afterwards.”
But Merlin didn’t move, he just stood there, shaking. It hurt Arthur to see Merlin like that, he just wanted to hold him close and making the trembling stop.
“Hey,” Arthur murmured. He stood in front of Merlin, tilting Merlin’s face to look at him. He saw Merlin’s eyes focus on him and he smiled. “It’s alright, we’re fine. You saved us.”
“It was a fluke,” Merlin said, his voice so low Arthur could barely hear it. “My magic’s so unstable because of the baby. What if they come again? What if I can’t save us again?”
Arthur just gave in to his impulses and pulled Merlin close, pulling his head to nestle between his shoulder and neck. Merlin went willingly, his arms wrapping around Arthur’s waist. He rubbed Merlin’s back in slow, heavy strokes, up and down, up and down, until Merlin’s breathing settled and the tension started to drain from his body.
“It’s not your job to save us,” he said gently, never stopping rubbing Merlin’s back. “That’s my job.”
“But -” Merlin interjected.
“But nothing,” Arthur interrupted. “This is my job. I’m not going to say that I don’t appreciate what you did for us back there, because I do. I really do. You did save us. And if next time your magic doesn’t work, I’ll kill them. I’ll kill them rather than let them take you.”
Merlin’s arms tightened around Arthur’s waist.
“You’re safe with me,” he said. “I promise I’ll protect you.”
Merlin lifted his head from Arthur’s shoulder. His eyes were a bit wet and he was looking at Arthur, both devastated and curious, and so, so dear.
Arthur leaned in and kissed him once, nothing more than a faint caress. Merlin let out a quiet, shuddering moan, and Arthur felt emboldened, kissing him again, more firmly. Merlin responded, bring his arms up to loop around Arthur’s neck.
Kissing one of the main and only witnesses and victims of his case was probably a really, really bad idea, but in that moment, Arthur really couldn’t bring himself to care.
**
The next morning, Arthur woke up feeling warm and contented for the first time in a long time, if not ever. The moment didn’t last because, almost immediately, he remembered the night before.
He shouldn’t have… With Merlin, he shouldn’t have. It was wrong, he was an FBI agent and Merlin was a victim he needed to protect. It went against every regulation and personal rule Arthur had set for himself. And Merlin, he probably wasn’t in the right mind after all that had happened. He’d said so himself, he was prone to moodswings. Maybe they’d affected his judgement.
As much as he wanted to be with Merlin, as much as it hurt him, he had to let him go.
Merlin started stirring, waking up slowly. He stretched languidly and opened his eyes, looking straight at Arthur, warm and fuzzy with sleep. Arthur could almost pretend that he didn’t mind letting Merlin go, that it was better because then he could protect Merlin.
“About last night,” Arthur started. And he saw it, he saw the moment the words registered with Merlin, because he saw him stiffen slightly and the warmth drain from his eyes.
“Don’t worry about it,” Merlin said coldly. “It was nothing.”
It wasn’t nothing, Arthur wanted to say. I wanted it. Instead, he got out of bed, ignoring how cold he felt as he slipped from Merlin’s side. “I’ll go and find some breakfast. Don’t open the door for anyone.”
**
When Arthur got back with a small bag of groceries and a few essentials, he found Gwaine waiting outside the management building. He decided to ignore him and get back to Merlin as fast as possible.
“Agent Pendragon!” Gwaine called when he saw that Arthur was just going to keep on walking. There was no trace of the usual easy, charming smile on his face. Instead, he looked serious and focused.
“How do you know my name?” Arthur hissed, looking around to make sure nobody had heard him.
Instead of answering, Gwaine just pulled out a badge. “MI5.”
“What’s an MI5 agent doing all the way out here?” Arthur asked, cautious. Gwaine was still, as far as Arthur was concerned, a possible threat. “Are you even allowed to operate in the United States?”
“I’d say I’m here looking for the same reason you are - Gaius.”
“What do you know about him?” Arthur asked.
“Not much, just that he’s involved in the disappearance of several people back in the UK. We suspect he’s involved in something much bigger, something that might pose a threat to us. Can’t really tell you more though, it’s all a bit classified.”
“Do you know why he’s targeting magic users?”
“I’m thinking that the magic and the pregnancies are connected.”
Arthur nodded. He’d been thinking the same. As far as he could tell, and that wasn’t very far at all at this point, all the abduction victims had had magic, and all of them had been made pregnant. He didn’t know why magic was needed for the forced pregnancies, but he was hoping Gwaine would know.
“How?”
Gwaine shrugged. “Looks like you know as much as I do,” he said. “But one thing I do know, agent Pendragon, is that Merlin is a really nice lad and doesn’t deserve any of this.”
“Don’t worry,” Arthur said. “I’ll protect him.”
“That’s not just what I mean,” Gwaine continued. “He’s scared, he’s out of his depth. He doesn’t just need an FBI agent to protect him, he needs a friend. He needs someone to see him as a person and not as a case.”
Arthur couldn’t really promise to be Merlin’s friend, especially not after last night.
“Listen,” Arthur said. “I have to get going.”
Which was the truth. He’d been gone far too long already, and he didn’t want to risk Merlin being found all on his own. It could all have been a delaying tactic, giving the two men from last night a chance to get to Merlin before he got back.
But still, following their conversation, it wasn’t that Arthur trusted Gwaine, but it did at least seem that he had Merlin’s best interests at heart. He was relying on his gut feeling a lot on this case, but so far, it had worked. So he was going to trust it once again, and hope that Gwaine really was on their side.
Opening the door to see Merlin still there, fully dressed and sitting on the bed, a bit sullen, reinforced the idea that maybe Gwaine wasn’t a threat, and maybe he’d found somewhat of an ally.
“I got donuts,” Arthur said. “And I didn’t know what you drink so I got you a hot chocolate.”
Merlin seemed to perk up at that. “It’s like you read my mind!”
Arthur went to sit next to him on the bed, handing him his drink and putting the box of donuts between them. It was nice, Arthur thought, sitting like this, almost comfortable. If only he could explain this to Merlin…
After a moment of comfortable silence, Merlin spoke up. “So how come you have an English accent?” he asked. “I didn’t think you could work at the FBI if you weren’t American?”
“Went to school in England,” Arthur answered. “That’s all there is to it.”
“Bet you went to one of those posh public schools,” Merlin said, nudging him playfully. “You sound like that kind of person.”
“Sound like what kind of person, exactly?”
“A prat who went to a public school, what do you think?”
Usually, Arthur would have been offended at the kind of presumptions Merlin was bringing up, but Merlin had this warm, teasing smile on his face, like he didn’t mean any of it. And that was enough to quell the anger growing in him.
“Better than sounding like an idiot,” Arthur retorted. “A nosey idiot at that too.”
Merlin just laughed. “How old are you, three?”
Arthur was just about to retort something terribly witty in hopes of making Merlin laugh again when Merlin cringed and brought a hand up to his stomach.
“Are you alright?” he asked instead, concerned. He didn’t know anything about ‘normal’ pregnancies, he had no idea what he could do if something went wrong with Merlin’s.
“Fine, fine,” Merlin said. “It’s just woken up and wanted attention, I guess.”
“How do you know?”
“Well, it’s kicking right now. That’s pretty attention-demanding if you ask me.”
“What’s it like?”
Arthur was trying, really trying, not to be curious about this whole ‘male pregnancy’ thing because he didn’t know if Merlin wanted to talk about it. But it was really hard, especially when Merlin seemed to be in pain.
“Uncomfortable, a bit painful at times,” Merlin replied truthfully. “Here, give me your hand.”
Merlin took his hand and placed it against the curve of his stomach, under his T-shirt, right against his warm skin.
“Just give it a sec,” he said.
And then, there was the most strange sensation under his palm. Kicking?
“Oh wow,” Arthur said, at loss for words. It was strangely intimate to be sitting there, hand against Merlin’s stomach. It almost felt like they were… a couple. Something that Arthur really, really wanted to see happen.
Merlin was staring at him, amused and a bit fond. “That’s one way of putting it,” he said, like Arthur was a bit daft. And maybe he was.
“Does the baby do that a lot then?” Arthur asked. He hoped the baby would kick again.
“Yeah,” Merlin said. “Especially when I’m trying to sleep.”
“Must be tough.”
“Yeah,” Merlin said again. “It’s just so wrong, this whole pregnancy thing. But at the same time, I can’t blame the baby for all this. At least, I can’t. I dunno if others would. Are there others?”
“Lots,” Arthur replied.
“Shit.”
“I’m here to make it stop,” Arthur said. “I won’t let anyone else go through this.”
“Pity you couldn’t do that before it happened to me,” Merlin said wistfully.
But if I had, Arthur wanted to say, I would never have met you. Even though it made him feel guilty, he couldn’t help the way he felt.
“I wonder what it’ll look like,” Merlin said, a few moments later. “I keep on having these nightmares and it looks like this alien, covered in blood.”
And again, Arthur didn’t know what to say to make Merlin feel better. But he didn’t need to worry about that, because a few seconds later, his mobile phone started ringing.
Arthur got up and looked through his travel bag until he found it. He still wasn’t used to having a phone he could take with him everywhere he went. And he wasn’t sure he liked it, either. Sometimes, he just didn’t want to be contacted.
“Hello?” he answered.
“Arthur,” came the voice of Uther Pendragon on the other side. “I trust I’m not waking you?”
“Of course not, sir,” Arthur replied.
“Good, good. I suppose you’re wondering why I’m calling.”
“Yes.”
Why exactly was his father calling now? It could only mean bad news - was he about to be fired?
“I’ve been keeping an eye on you while you worked your current ‘case’,” Uther said, the quotation marks around case clearly audible. “You’ve been doing an excellent job despite the lack of concrete evidence.”
“Thank you, sir,” Arthur said, relaxing slightly. It didn’t sound like bad news at all. But why did his father know about this case?
“I think you’ve redeemed yourself from your mistake, son. I’ve decided to transfer you back to your original division, effective today.”
Arthur couldn’t quite believe his ears. Finally, his dream of leaving the X-Files was coming true, but at the worst possible time. He couldn’t leave, not yet. He had to protect Merlin, he had to find who had done this to him.
“Thank you, sir,” Arthur replied. “But -”
“Don’t worry about your current case,” Uther interrupted. “I’m sure agent Du Lac will be able to handle it once he returns. You can drop the case now, unless you don’t want to leave the X-Files?”
“No, of course not!” Arthur said.
“Good. I’ll expect you back to work on Monday morning, bright and early. Do not continue to investigate this case.”
And with that, Arthur’s father hung up.
“Who was that?” Merlin asked.
“My father,” Arthur said. “He wants me off the X-Files.”
“Oh so this,” Merlin said angrily, pointing at his bump, “is an X-File.”
“I don’t make the rules,” Arthur said, reasonable. “It doesn’t make you weird.”
“But I already am weird because of this,” Merlin countered.
Arthur sighed angrily. “I don’t understand what you’re going on about! Are you upset because you’re an X-File or not?”
“I don’t know!” Merlin shouted. “I didn’t ask for any of this, I just wanted to lead a normal life and now I can’t and I’m stuck with the son of the director of the FBI who’s about to leave me to deal with this huge mess on my own.”
“Wait, is that why you’re upset?” Arthur asked. “You think I’m going to leave you?”
“Well, your father wants you off the case, right?”
“If I obeyed everything my father said…” Arthur started. “I’m not going to leave you, I’m taking you with me back to DC. I promised I’d protect you, didn’t I?”
Arthur had his own reasons to not drop the case, but his father’s call was definitely strange. It wasn’t like him to interrupt a case like that. It almost felt like a warning, like Arthur was continuing at his own peril. Was he trying to hide something? If he was, Arthur was definitely going to find out. He wasn’t the kind of person to drop a case, not when he’d got this far, not when there was so much at stake.
**
Arthur drove them all the way back to DC. He would have taken the plane, but as Merlin had pointed out several times, it was impossible to do so without risking their cover. So he had driven for five days straight while Merlin sat beside him, chatting, singing along to the radio, or napping. At night, they’d stayed at various motels where Arthur refused to sleep without his gun under the pillow. They were at their most vulnerable then - Arthur needed to sleep and Merlin wasn’t trained to keep watch.
Finally, on Sunday, very early in the morning, Arthur parked his rental car in his allocated spot and helped Merlin up to his flat on the third floor.
“You take the bed,” Arthur said, closing the front door behind him.
“But it’s your flat,” Merlin protested.
“And that makes you the guest,” Arthur countered. “You’ll sleep in the bed.”
“You drove all the way from Washington!”
“You’re pregnant,” Arthur argued. “I don’t know much about pregnancies but I do know that your back is probably hurting. The couch isn’t comfortable so take the damn bed and get some sleep.”
“No need to be such an arse about it,” Merlin muttered before leaving Arthur alone.
There was another reason Arthur wasn’t mentioning. To get to the bedroom, any intruder would have to walk past the living room. And Arthur’s couch was positioned so that it faced the hall, making it impossible for anyone to get to Merlin without Arthur knowing.
Arthur only got a few hours of fitful sleep before the sun’s rays streaming through the window woke him up.
His first reflex was to check on Merlin - still asleep, curled up on one side, snoring softly. Once that was out of the way, Arthur went to the kitchen to see what he had to make breakfast.
Arthur always made sure to eat something for breakfast - there was no way of knowing whether a high-activity case would cross his path and the last thing he wanted was to have to worry about having enough energy to pursue it. Criminals didn’t wait till after lunch. That didn’t mean he was very creative about it - muesli, fruit, coffee and a glass of orange juice. Sometimes the supermarket had things like muffins (English muffins, that is), which made a nice change. But overall, he was a man of habit.
He was almost out of muesli, and in few days he’d been gone, the fruit had gone mouldy and the milk had soured. Fortunately, he had bacon and eggs in his fridge. That would more than do. Hopefully Merlin wouldn’t mind.
By the time Arthur had finished cooking breakfast, Merlin had joined him in the small kitchen, standing next to the open window and watching Arthur cook.
“Did you sleep alright?” Arthur asked as he placed two plates on the table, trying to dissolve the slightly awkward silence. Small talk wasn’t something he was very good at, but it couldn’t hurt to try.
Merlin sat down facing Arthur and started picking at his meal.
“Yeah, not bad,” he said. “Did my back wonders,” he added with a tentative smile.
“Good.”
Still, their short exchange did little to dismiss the awkward silence.
“I have to go into work today,” Arthur tried again.
“Oh?” Merlin said, fork half-way to his mouth.
“There are a few things I want to look into.”
“Okay. What about me?”
“You’re not going to like this,” Arthur started. “But I have a friend at work, Gwen. She’s a geneticist in our science labs. I want her to have a look at you, run a few tests.”
“You’re right,” Merlin agreed, crossing his arms defensively. “I don’t like this.”
This was something Arthur had thought about several times during the drive from Washington. He didn’t know what the tests would reveal, but he was hoping they would reveal something, another piece in this mess of a puzzle.
“You haven’t had any tests run since finding out, right?” Merlin nodded. “I trust Gwen, I know she’ll take good care of you.”
“But why tests?” Merlin asked. “What are you hoping to find?”
“More clues,” Arthur answered.
“Clues to what?” Merlin asked.
And he just had to keep on pushing. Arthur didn’t know whether to be annoyed or amused. Merlin was so stubborn, not unlike Arthur himself.
“Just clues,” Arthur said.
**
Gwen was, as Arthur had hoped, more than willing to come into work on her day off just because he’d asked nicely (and promised dinner).
There were very few people at the Bureau on Sunday which made it easy enough for Arthur to smuggle Merlin into the building without raising any suspicions.
Gwen closed the door to the lab behind them, locking it to make sure nobody randomly (or not-so-randomly) walked in on them.
“Gwen,” Arthur said. “This is Merlin, the guy I told you about on the phone. Merlin, this is Gwen, the best scientist at the FBI.”
“Don’t exaggerate, Arthur. Nice to meet you,” Gwen said, holding her hand out to shake Merlin’s. She was having a hard time figuring out where to look, torn between wanting to stare at Merlin’s baby bump and not wanting to be rude.
“Likewise,” Merlin replied.
“What exactly do you have in mind, Arthur?” Gwen asked. “Because you didn’t exactly tell me anything over the phone.”
“I was worried my phone line was being tapped,” Arthur argued. “I really can’t trust anyone other than you, Gwen.”
Gwen nodded.
“I don’t know what exactly is going on,” Arthur continued. “But I do know that Merlin was abducted and now he’s pregnant and I think the two events are linked.”
“What do you want me to do?” Gwen asked.
“Can you run some tests? On Merlin and the baby?”
“Um, sure,” she said. “But what am I looking for?”
“I don’t know, Gwen, I really don’t know. Anything, really. Anything abnormal.”
“You do realise that with a pregnant man, everything’s going to be abnormal, right?” Gwen teased.
“Thanks, Gwen,” Arthur said. “I really owe you one.”
“Yes you do,” Gwen replied. “I’m sure you’ll find a way of making amends.”
Arthur smiled at her before turning to Merlin. Merlin was standing off to one side, looking apprehensive and nervous.
“Hey,” Arthur said gently. “Alright?”
Merlin nodded. “Just a bit worried about the tests.”
“Don’t worry, I trust Gwen completely. You couldn’t be in better hands.”
Merlin gave him a small smile and Arthur smiled back.
“I promise I’ll be back as soon as I can,” Arthur said, taking both of Merlin’s hands in his and squeezing them comfortingly. “You’ll be safe here.”
“Okay,” Merlin said, squeezing back. Arthur wanted so badly to lean in and kiss him. Instead, he let go of his hands and made his way to the door.
“Call me if you find anything,” Arthur said as he unlocked the door.
“Will do,” Gwen said, closing and locking the door behind him.
Go to 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
Eleven o’clock found Arthur waiting behind the school where Deagal taught, hiding in the shadows. He could hear the traffic from the main road - not that there was much at this time of night, just a few vehicles, some stopped by the lights, some going straight past. The school yard was dark, and it was impossible to see anything beyond what little light the moon provided as it danced between the clouds.
This was dangerous, a part of Arthur was repeating as he waited. While the darkness hid him, it also meant he couldn’t see if anyone was spying on them. He didn’t like it, he was too vulnerable.
Deagal hadn’t arrived yet, Arthur was almost certain. Hopefully, he wouldn’t be long. Arthur hated standing around, waiting, especially meetings like this, secret, in the middle of the night, with a person he barely knew, in hopes of gleaning some information.
After a long five minutes of waiting, Arthur heard footsteps behind him and turned.
“Sorry I’m late, my wife had an asthma attack,” said Deagal in lieu of greeting, coming to stand in front of him. Arthur could barely make out his features in the dark. “I had to make sure she was alright.”
“Let’s cut to the chase, Mr Williams,” Arthur said, not sharp, but professional. “You wanted to talk.”
“Yes.”
“About 1988?”
“Yes.”
Deagal took a deep, shuddering breath, nervous. He didn’t want to do this, Arthur could tell. He let him take his time. Sometimes it paid to be patient, and this was one of those times. He needed to know, and he couldn’t afford to lose this one witness.
“It happened on October 31st - Halloween. I didn’t really want to go out, I was going to spend the evening with my new girlfriend. But her friends had invited her out, so when a friend invited me to a party, I didn’t say no.”
“He didn’t live far,” Deagal continued. “So I walked. Besides, it was pretty warm for that time of year. I was wearing my favourite jacket. I haven’t been able to wear it since - too many bad memories. So I came up to the main street, I was waiting at the lights to cross when a car came up to me fast. The brakes squealed as it came to a stop, right in front of me. I can remember that moment so well, it felt like things were moving in slow-mo. Before I knew it, I’d been pulled into the car. I didn’t even have time to see what kind of car it was, it happened so quickly.”
Deagal was quiet for a moment. “I don’t really remember anything after that, just a few flashes.” His voice was quiet when he resumed. “Like a very bright, white room. And people in white coats and masks, standing around me, looking, taking notes. And then I woke up in a graveyard, wearing the clothes I’d been wearing the night I was taken. I didn’t know where I was or what day it was. Nothing. The cops found me stumbling down the street in the middle of the night. I was so cold, that’s the main impression I keep of that time. Then I learned that it was Wednesday, early morning - I lost two days! I told everyone I’d just gone a bit mad, needed some time alone. I didn’t think they’d believe me. Even I could barely believe it.”
“Who do you think kidnapped you?” Arthur asked.
“I don’t really know,” Deagal said, voice still low. He looked around them briefly, almost paranoid, like he thought someone was listening. It put Arthur on edge too. He’d checked the perimeter, of course, but that wasn’t a guarantee that no one was listening to their conversation.
“That wasn’t the end of it,” Deagal continued, speaking faster, like he needed to get it off his chest as quickly as possible. “One of the cops who found me recommended a therapist, said he was real good with abduction victims. I didn’t know who else to call, so I did. He was great, I thought. I felt like I could trust him with my dirty secret, and he believed me! I couldn’t believe it! I felt so lucky! He put me on a course of experimental anti-depressants, said they were especially good with people who had been through what I’d been through.”
“Everything was fine for a few months - four, I want to say, maybe a bit less, maybe a bit more. Then, I started getting this weird feeling in my gut. I thought it was just gastric flu. Then something started growing in there, and I was so fucking scared. I thought it was cancer! I thought that it was related to the abduction so I told my therapist. He didn’t seem too pleased to hear that and he dismissed me.”
Deagal took a deep breath, probably to calm himself. “That night, I was alone at home. I was single then - it didn’t last with my girlfriend. There was a knock at the door at about ten. I thought it was weird and really late, but one of my friends had been having car trouble so I thought maybe he needed to use my phone to call a tow truck.”
“It wasn’t my friend,” he said in a shaky, panicked voice. Part of Arthur wanted to tell him that it was ok, that he was safe, that he didn’t have to put himself through this, but he needed to know what had happened. This was his only chance. “Some guys in black suits. They put a cloth to my face. When I woke up, I was in a cell. A nice cell - as nice as a cell can get, I suppose - with a bed and a blanket. They even gave me books. They kept me there for months. They treated me well, but I wasn’t allowed to leave. They only let me leave when it was all over.”
“What was all over?” Arthur asked. He suspected what the answer might be, but he needed Deagal to say it, to put it into words for him.
“I - The… Pregnant,” Deagal said. “It wasn’t a tumour, I was pregnant. I don’t know how, I don’t know why, all I know is I carried a child for months, they operated to take it out. I still have a scar, I have to pretend that it’s from appendicitis with complications. He kept tabs on me, my therapist. He was involved. I’d get regular visits, to see how it was doing, if anything needed to be done, if I was taking proper care of myself for its sake. I think it was from when I was abducted that first time. It must have been the government, the military. I don’t know! Who else could do something like that and suffer no consequences for it?”
“What happened after they removed the child?” Arthur asked. In the background, he could hear a loud car coming their way. He would have ignored it, like he had ignored all traffic, if not for something in the back of his mind telling him to be careful.
“They let me go. They gave me a new home, a new job. I was told I couldn’t tell anyone about it. It wasn’t an explicit threat, but I knew they’d kill me without hesitation. I wasn’t allowed to contact anyone from my past life. I don’t know what they were told, but they were told that I would never return. And I followed their instructions, until today.”
“Your therapist, what was his name?” Arthur asked.
Just as Deagal was about to answer, a two shots rang in the air, and Deagal collapsed to the ground, dead, one bullet straight to the head.
Arthur could hear footsteps running away, so he followed, running as fast as he could. He pulled his gun out the holster as he ran. He turned the corner of the building and suddenly, he could see. The streetlights were bathing the front yard in yellow-ish orange light.
Just a few yards from him was the killer. Arthur was catching up, slowly, but surely. Then he saw a dark-coloured car, waiting at the entrance to the school, on the pavement, one door open. There was a man in the driver’s seat and the engine was running, just waiting for the other man to jump in.
Arthur swore and pushed himself harder, blood pounding in his ears. He was going to fucking lose them, he couldn’t let the killer reach that car.
He was so close, so so close, but the killer dove into the car before Arthur could catch him. He barely caught a glimpse of the killer before the driver sped off, tires squealing against the asphalt, leaving Arthur panting on the pavement, watching them drive away.
“Fuck!”
**
A few hours later, Arthur was boarding a plane to Seattle, his gun in a closed case in his small carry-on bag. The last few hours had left him on edge, antsy. He couldn’t focus on the magazine he’d bought at the airport, instead going over his conversation with Deagal over and over again, to draw out any useful information whatsoever. He felt guilty for leaving his body where it had fallen, but he couldn’t wait any longer. They, whoever they were, were onto him. He didn’t have much time.
His shooting confirmed Gaius’s guilt in his mind. He was almost certain that the therapist Deagal had been seeing had been Gaius. Who else could it have been?
It was late afternoon, the sun setting above the hills, colouring everything in warm, golden light, when Arthur, in his rental car, drove into Ealdor.
Even though it was pretty late, and even though he wanted to keep a low profile, he was banging at Merlin’s front door, waiting for him to answer.
The door didn’t open, but Merlin called out. “Who is it?” sounding a bit worried.
“Special agent Pendragon, I need to speak to you immediately.”
This time, the door did open, and Merlin ushered him into the living room without asking any questions. There were pictures on the table, of a pre-pregnancy Merlin, skinny, with an infectious smile, and another man Arthur didn’t recognise.
“Who’s that?” he asked.
“Is this the urgent matter?” Merlin asked, clearly unimpressed. He sighed then and sat down, gesturing for Arthur to sit down as well. “My boyfriend - ex-boyfriend now, I suppose - Will. We’d been together since freshman year. He left after I was… After I was abducted.”
“Sorry.”
Merlin shrugged. “It’s for the best, how the fuck am I supposed to explain my condition anyway?”
“Your condition, yes,” Arthur said, focusing on the job at hand. “Gaius, your doctor, how well do you know him?”
“Pretty well,” Merlin answered. “He’s my mum’s uncle, he’d come and visit us in England every year or so, he was really nice. Stern, but nice. Then when mum decided to leave England in protest after Thatcher brought up the poll tax, he helped us settle here. I’ve known him my whole life.”
Arthur thought that that was rather ironic - moving to the US, of all places, over that? - but he let it slide.
“Do you trust him?”
“As much as you can trust a person, I suppose.”
“After you were abducted, did he do anything strange?” Arthur asked, hoping that Merlin wouldn’t need directing towards the information Arthur wanted to hear.
“Like what?” Merlin asked. “I mean, he was there for me when I came back. I was so confused and scared, I didn’t know who or what to trust, or if my experience had actually happened or what. I had these nightmares, awful nightmares about being tested on by people in like hazmat suits. He believed me, unlike Will. Not that I blame Will - it was hard to be around me then. Gaius gave me this experimental treatment for PTSD, saying it worked really well and that I’d be feeling better soon enough. Then he disappeared, I found out that I was pregnant, and it’s been really hard since then.”
“How did you find out you were pregnant?”
“I... It was Gwaine’s idea, really. He thought it would be hilarious to buy me a pregnancy test, and it came back positive.”
“Wait, Gwaine? As in motel manager Gwaine?”
“Yes. I worked there as a receptionist one summer, we became friends. He’s a nice guy. So, after the first one came back positive, he decided to buy a few more and they all came back positive. The reason he’d bought them was because I was complaining of this strange feeling in my abdomen and he said I was acting really moody. It was a joke, it was supposed to make me feel better! He’s been a great help since.”
Arthur nodded.
“I can’t go out like this,” Merlin said, gesturing at his swollen belly. “He gets me groceries, takes care of the garden, you know, he helps out. Sometimes he’ll take me out for a drive at night, to somewhere secluded where I can get out for a walk. I miss being able to go out, I really do. But I can’t be seen like this. It’s a small town, everyone’ll know, I’ll be seen as a freak.”
“I’m sorry,” he said professionally, not sure what he could say to sympathise with Merlin. There were no words, really. What could you say when somebody’s life was being ruined by something beyond their control?
Merlin shrugged again. “’S not your fault.”
“You say you know Gaius well,” Arthur said, changing the topic abruptly. “Since you’ve been here, have you been to his house at all?”
“Yeah, he invites us over for dinner every once in a while, and I went to see him while he was helping me get through the abduction issues I had.”
“So you’d know if anything were amiss?”
“I guess,” Merlin replied. “I dunno, it’s been a while since I’ve been there. Are you still investigating his disappearance?”
“If I took you there now, would you be able to see if anything’s different?”
“Maybe? But I can’t go out, what if somebody sees me?”
“I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important. I can protect you.”
Merlin sighed. “I don’t need protecting. I need to look less like a beached whale.”
“You look fine,” Arthur said almost immediately, not even thinking before speaking.
Merlin raised an eyebrow at him, dubious. “I do not, I look ridiculous.”
“Fine, fine, if you say so,” Arthur said impatiently. Time was ticking. The longer he stayed here, the longer it gave the people he was up against time to arrive, kill Merlin, and destroy any evidence of this… conspiracy. “Listen, I need your help, and I don’t have much time. A man was killed last night, and I need to know if anything’s… different. And I need to get you away from here before they come and kill you. You’re the last witness I have, after this, the case goes cold, and whoever did this to you gets away. And I won’t let that happen, this just isn’t right.”
Arthur had let himself grow angry as he ranted. This was the most exciting, yet most frustrating case he’d ever handled. And Deagal was dead, because of him, because he’d talked to Arthur, because he’d wanted to help. He should have protected him, he should have paid attention to that stupid car, Deagal shouldn’t be dead.
Now all he had left was Merlin, and there was no way he would let Merlin end up like Deagal. Enough people had died because of this case, the people behind it, it had to come to an end.
Merlin was looking at him curiously. “You’re different from what I expected,” he said. “I thought you were a prat.”
Arthur huffed a laugh. Merlin hadn’t seen him at his best, that was certain. “Well, it’s better than being an idiot,” he retorted.
Merlin gave him this huge smile that lit up his face completely and for a moment, Arthur was completely stunned.
“I’ll go with you,” Merlin said. “It’s getting dark, and most people are still at work. Probably.”
He stood up with difficulty, both hands pushing up on the arm rests. Arthur had moved towards him, to help him up, but Merlin had glared at him. It seemed like they had that in common at least, stubborn and self-reliant.
Merlin grabbed a light blanket that was strewn over the back of the armchair.
“What are you doing?” Arthur asked.
Merlin smiled at him again, smaller, amused, and it went straight to Arthur’s heart. He could feel his cheeks grow warm, almost like he had a crush on Merlin, a man he barely knew.
“What I do when Gwaine takes me on my forbidden walks,” Merlin said, leaning forward and wrapping the blanket around his shoulders so that it hung lightly around his form, enough to hide his stomach from casual on-lookers.
**
They made it to Gaius’s without problems, concealed by the dimming light. Like last time, Arthur went round back, Merlin following right behind him. He kept his hand on his gun, not taking any chances after last night. The back door was locked, which Arthur had managed by finding a set of dusty keys on the bedside table. Therefore this time, there was no need for Arthur to show off his lock-picking skills. It was a bit of a shame, he was sure Merlin would have been impressed.
As far as Arthur could tell, no one had been here since Arthur last had visited. He relaxed a little and let his hand fall from his gun, but he remained alert, ready for anything.
“Are you sure we should be doing this, agent Pendragon?” Merlin whispered. He was still right behind Arthur and was hunched over, as if he was trying to make himself smaller, more discreet.
“Call me Arthur,” Arthur said. “Agent Pendragon reminds me of my father too much.”
He wasn’t sure why he’d revealed that information to Merlin, but he had. He felt… almost comfortable around him, as if they’d known each other for much, much longer than they actually had.
“He’s the director of the FBI, right?”
“So?” Arthur snapped. He’d worked hard to get where he was, he wasn’t going to let Merlin imply anything else, no matter what complicated feelings he might harbour towards him.
“Nothing. Just… Must be tough, you probably have a lot of expectations placed upon you,” Merlin said hesitantly.
Arthur relaxed. “I’m on official business, it’s fine,” Arthur replied to Merlin’s first question, changing the topic.
“But I’m not,” Merlin whispered, going along with the change of topic. “What if they call the cops?”
“It’s fine, Merlin, nobody’ll actually notice we’re in here anyway.”
“You say that,” Merlin pointed out. “But you can’t be certain.”
“Will you just shut up?” Arthur whispered back.
He saw Merlin roll his eyes before turning away.
They made it to Gaius’s surgery, where everything, in Arthur’s opinion, was as he’d left it, dusty and disused. Merlin headed straight for the bookcase and Arthur let him be.
Arthur pulled out the list of victims he’d found at the FBI and started looking through Gaius’s files. At least he knew what he was looking for this time so it wouldn’t take too long to check his list against the files.
And there were a few, sure, mostly local, but the vast majority of victims were nowhere to be found amongst Gaius’s patients.
Arthur sighed. So much for that line of inquiry then. It was all just a big coincidence, and he was back at square one. No information, no clues, no idea what was going on, nothing.
“Merlin!” he called quietly. Merlin turned to look at him. “Have you seen anything that seems strange, out of place to you?” he asked, hoping that Merlin would have better news for him.
“You know, I was looking at his bookcase and it’s all medical journals or books, except for one,” Merlin said. “I noticed it because it’s the book I got him for his birthday a few years ago, Le Malade Imaginaire by Molière. I thought it would be funny, you know? Malade Imaginaire? Doctor?” Merlin laughed, like it was a particularly funny joke. “Also, for an old, fancy edition of it, it was pretty cheap,” he added.
Merlin went to grab Arthur’s hand and pulled him towards the bookcase. For a second, all that Arthur could focus on was the warmth of Merlin’s hand on his.
“See?” Merlin said, pointing at a hardcover book. “I mean, it could be that he just really likes it, but it doesn’t seem like it belongs.”
Arthur tried to pull the book out of the bookcase, to see if there was anything inside, anything hidden, but instead, the book triggered a mechanism. There was a quiet rumbling sound followed by the rug in the middle of the floor sagging over a newly uncovered hole.
Arthur looked at the rug, then back at Merlin. “Did you…?”
Merlin nodded slowly, keeping his eyes on the rug. “What the fuck is going on here?”
“I wish I could tell you.”
The hole turned out to give onto a flight of stairs, small and steep, in a cramped tunnel. Arthur went first, flashlight at the ready.
“Stay here,” he told Merlin. “It might not be safe.”
“Forget it,” Merlin replied. “I’m not staying up here to be caught breaking and entering by the police. I’m going with you.”
Arthur didn’t even try to argue. He was finding that Merlin was far too stubborn for his own good, and arguing would just waste precious time.
“Fine,” he said. “Just be careful, we don’t know what’s down there.”
At the bottom of the flight of stairs was a dark room. And when Arthur shone his flashlight over it, he found that it was almost like a second examination room, complete with machines, an examination table and, in the corner, a chest of drawers which, upon closer inspection, were full of the normal equipment found in an examination room - packs of needles, gauze, gloves, sanitiser… There was also a desk in the corner next to a filing cabinet.
This was exactly what Arthur had been hoping for. A breakthrough. There was no reason for Gaius to have a second examination room, especially such a well-hidden one. Not unless he was up to suspicious or illegal activities. For the first time in a long, long time, Arthur was feeling confident that he’d find something here, something that would shed some light on this whole case.
“It’s so fucking dark,” he heard Merlin mutter behind him. Then he heard him mutter a word he couldn’t comprehend and the room was filled with a soft light.
Arthur turned to look at Merlin who had a smug grin on his face.
“Magic,” he said proudly. “Pretty neat, huh?”
Arthur didn’t really know what to say so he just nodded dumbly, which only caused Merlin’s grin to grow smugger. And Arthur didn’t even find it annoying, instead, he found it sort of charming. He was doomed.
Arthur first headed for the filing cabinet. And sure enough, it was full of files whose names matched the names on Arthur’s list, and even more names that Arthur hadn’t even found during his search. So many people involved, so many people whose lives had been tampered with. So many dead victims.
He quickly found Merlin’s file. The best way to find out what exactly was going on was to compare it to something he knew, and something that another person could verify, i.e. Merlin himself.
It seemed to contain the same kind of information the file upstairs contained, only this file contained an entry dated two days ago scribbled hastily, with a series of measurements that certainly hadn’t been in Merlin’s other file.
“Merlin,” Arthur shout-whispered. “Come over here.”
“What?” Merlin whispered back. “Why are we whispering? I thought you said we wouldn’t be caught.”
“Shut up and look at this.”
He pushed the file towards Merlin and waited, watching him while he perused the page. Arthur knew when he reached the last entry because his eyes went wide and his hands were shaking.
“That’s… Fuck!” Merlin swore, voice trembling. “Arthur, how do they know all this? They’ve got my weight pretty much correct, like they’re off by a pound!”
Arthur put his hand on Merlin’s shoulder to ground him, to comfort him. “Are you sure?”
“Yes! I’ve been keeping track of things like my weight just to make sure nothing’s… nothing’s… Oh my god, Arthur, what the fuck is going on here?”
“Hey, it’s alright, it’s ok,” Arthur murmured gently. He put his hands on Merlin’s arms and rubbed them up and down comfortingly. “I’m here; nothing’s going to happen to you.”
“You can’t promise that,” Merlin replied. There were tears in his eyes and it physically hurt Arthur to see Merlin so scared. He just wanted to pull him close and shield him from the world and its horrors. “You said they killed someone last night! I’m next!”
“I promise I’ll protect you,” Arthur said in a soothing voice. “I’m an FBI agent, it’s what I’m good at.”
Merlin seemed to relax slightly, but Arthur didn’t let up his ministrations. Merlin was so warm, and under his soft sweater, he could feel his solid, trembling arms. It felt good, too good, and he really should stop before he went too far, before he stepped onto dangerous territory.
“Do you remember what you were doing two days ago?” Arthur asked.
“I was working on this translation - I’m a translator, I translate texts to and from Old English. It’s mostly for TV shows and novels and things like that, you know. It’s mostly rubbish but some of it is pretty cool. Gwaine came by at lunch time with chocolate ice cream. God, you have no idea how much I’ve been craving chocolate anything recently. It was like he heard my thoughts! But other than that, I was busy working on that translation. I gave it to Gwaine to put in the post yesterday. I… I remember watching TV, it was maybe seven in the evening? And then I must have fallen asleep because I woke up and it was eleven. I don’t think I felt weird or anything, I just woke up and saw it was late. Then I went to bed and that’s about it.”
“Did you notice anything strange? Maybe a car broken down outside? Someone looking for directions? Or even just someone you’d never seen before.”
Merlin shook his head. “No, nothing,” he said. “I don’t remember anything.”
“They must have done it between seven and eleven,” Arthur said.
He didn’t mention, of course, the fact that Gwaine, motel manager Gwaine, Merlin’s friend Gwaine, was a suspect in his mind. For Merlin’s sake, he hoped he wasn’t. The last thing he needed was another person to betray him, but he had turned up unannounced, unexpected on that very day. And he knew Merlin, probably knew Merlin’s house well too. It was all too suspicious, and Arthur would be damned if he was going to take this lightly.
“But how?”
“I have no idea,” Arthur replied. “But you’re not going back to your house after this, you’re staying with me. It’s not safe.”
Merlin nodded shakily.
“Don’t worry,” Arthur repeated gently, but firmly. “I’ll protect you.”
Merlin gave him a watery, hesitant smile, tugging at the corner of his mouth, before shaking his head and reaching up to rub his eyes. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to get all weepy on you. I guess it’s hormones. I mean, they do say that about pregnant women, right? I get these massive moodswings, like crying, or angry, or whatever for no reason.”
Arthur just nodded in understanding. Honestly, he couldn’t even blame Merlin for being emotional - it couldn’t be easy to be faced with the fact that you had been experimented on by someone you trusted deeply. He didn’t know what it was like to feel that way, not from personal experience, but he’d seen so many cases, so many people, over the years he’d worked at the Bureau that he’d developed some form of understanding. Some form of empathy.
They stood like that, in silence, facing each other, Arthur’s hands warm on Merlin’s arms. From close up, Arthur could see that Merlin’s eyes were so blue. He couldn’t look away, he was drawn to Merlin in a way he didn’t quite understand yet, but in a way he truly wanted to explore.
Maybe, just maybe, he was actually gay. And maybe it was alright, too.
And then, just as he started leaning forward and Merlin’s eyes fluttered closed, there came noise from upstairs. Two male voices, speaking quietly, coming closer.
The middle of a case was not the moment for personal revelations.
They jumped apart, and for one short moment, all Arthur could think of was how much he missed feeling Merlin under his hands.
“Arthur!” Merlin whispered, panicking, eyes wide open and wild. “What do we do now?”
Arthur wished he had a good answer to Merlin’s question. He didn’t. They were stuck in this underground room, with nowhere out without being seen by the two men upstairs.
All he could do was pull out his gun and hope he had the element of surprise in his favour. He wasn’t going down without a fight, and he certainly wasn’t going to let anyone get to Merlin. Two men, as far as he could tell - he’d faced worse odds.
“Arthur!” Merlin whispered again. Arthur was just about to brush him off, he couldn’t afford to be distracted right now. It was a matter of life or death. But Merlin continued anyway. “Look! In the corner there.”
And Arthur looked. There, hidden in the shadows where Merlin’s magic didn’t quite reach, was what looked like another door. Leading to where, neither of them knew, but what Arthur did know was that it was a much better option than standing there without cover.
“Come on,” Arthur said, pulling Merlin towards the door.
It opened easily. Arthur ushered Merlin through the door, before following him, closing the door behind them. The room was plunged into darkness once more and Arthur hoped that it would be enough to keep the two men from finding the door, finding them.
The door opened onto a corridor with a low ceiling. At the end was another flight of stairs that led to a trap door. The trap door, as they found out, opened onto the side of Gaius’s house. Arthur pulled Merlin towards a clump of low bushes, hoping the bushes, combined with the darkness of the night would keep them hidden from sight.
For a moment, everything was quiet and motionless. Arthur’s heart was pounding in his chest with nerves. He had his gun out, ready to shoot, and waiting like this was putting him on edge. Beside him, Merlin was faring no better. He was lying on his side to accommodate his stomach, and Arthur could hear his rapid, panicked breathing. He wanted to reach out to comfort him, but he couldn’t. He had to stay focused if he wanted to get them out of this situation alive.
Then the two men walked around the corner of the house, the hazy light from the moon dancing off the barrels of their guns.
“Y peuvent pas être loin,” said one of them. “Chuis sûr qu’ils étaient dans la pièce secrète du toubib.”
“Ferme-la et continue à chercher,” said the other. “On est dans la merde si on les retrouve pas, surtout le fils Pendragon.”
Arthur couldn’t understand what they were saying. Foreign languages had never been his strong point. But the men were coming closer to them, and the closer they got, the less certain Arthur became that the bushes would conceal them.
Then, suddenly, he didn’t quite know what happened, but Merlin must have moved because the branches of the bush were rustling, calling to the two men.
“Là ! Derrière le putain d’buisson,” shouted one of the men.
And shit, shit, they were coming their way. Arthur had his gun out, completely focused on the task at hand. For a moment, he was perfectly aware of his surroundings, the hazy moonlight, the smell of the grass and bushes, Merlin’s breathing, and the sound of footsteps in the grass. He waited with bated breath for them to come closer, and then, when they were close enough, he would shoot them. He had a very small margin of error, but Arthur was sure he could make the shots. They were going to make it.
What he didn’t count on was Merlin grabbing his arm to keep him still. Arthur turned to see what the hell Merlin was doing. Merlin’s eyes glowed golden as he whispered a word that Arthur, again, couldn’t make out.
The men were in front of the bushes, they made their way round them, and they didn’t stop.
“Putain, ça devait être un chat ou un truc dans l’genre,” said one of the men.
“Bordel,” said the other. “Y’s ont réussi à s’échapper alors. On est vraiment dans la merde là.”
And then they were walking away, back to the car that Arthur had only just noticed. He couldn’t be certain, but it looked like the same car that had been waiting the night Deagal was murdered.
He watched as they drove away and allowed himself a deep breath to calm down. They’d made it, they were both alive, and both still free.
He stood up and put his hand out to help Merlin up.
“How did you do that?” he asked as they walked back to Arthur’s car.
Arthur wasn’t stupid. This time, he hadn’t parked anywhere near Merlin’s house. He’d left the car by the church in the centre, between other, similar dark cars.
“It’s magic,” Merlin said. They walked under a streetlight and Arthur turned to look at Merlin. He was grinning at him mischievously, though he still looked tired and beside himself with worry. “I was born with it.”
**
Arthur drove them to Gwaine’s motel. It wasn’t the brightest idea he’d had, but he figured that this way, he could keep an eye on Gwaine. And if they stayed here, maybe they’d be taken in peacefully rather than gunned down by two unknown men.
He quickly smuggled Merlin into his room, closing the door behind them and locking it.
Merlin stood in the middle of the room, looking like he didn’t know what to do with himself. He was shivering, whether it was from the cold of the night or from nerves, Arthur couldn’t tell.
“Merlin, you’re shaking,” he said gently. “Go take a shower, you’ll feel better afterwards.”
But Merlin didn’t move, he just stood there, shaking. It hurt Arthur to see Merlin like that, he just wanted to hold him close and making the trembling stop.
“Hey,” Arthur murmured. He stood in front of Merlin, tilting Merlin’s face to look at him. He saw Merlin’s eyes focus on him and he smiled. “It’s alright, we’re fine. You saved us.”
“It was a fluke,” Merlin said, his voice so low Arthur could barely hear it. “My magic’s so unstable because of the baby. What if they come again? What if I can’t save us again?”
Arthur just gave in to his impulses and pulled Merlin close, pulling his head to nestle between his shoulder and neck. Merlin went willingly, his arms wrapping around Arthur’s waist. He rubbed Merlin’s back in slow, heavy strokes, up and down, up and down, until Merlin’s breathing settled and the tension started to drain from his body.
“It’s not your job to save us,” he said gently, never stopping rubbing Merlin’s back. “That’s my job.”
“But -” Merlin interjected.
“But nothing,” Arthur interrupted. “This is my job. I’m not going to say that I don’t appreciate what you did for us back there, because I do. I really do. You did save us. And if next time your magic doesn’t work, I’ll kill them. I’ll kill them rather than let them take you.”
Merlin’s arms tightened around Arthur’s waist.
“You’re safe with me,” he said. “I promise I’ll protect you.”
Merlin lifted his head from Arthur’s shoulder. His eyes were a bit wet and he was looking at Arthur, both devastated and curious, and so, so dear.
Arthur leaned in and kissed him once, nothing more than a faint caress. Merlin let out a quiet, shuddering moan, and Arthur felt emboldened, kissing him again, more firmly. Merlin responded, bring his arms up to loop around Arthur’s neck.
Kissing one of the main and only witnesses and victims of his case was probably a really, really bad idea, but in that moment, Arthur really couldn’t bring himself to care.
**
The next morning, Arthur woke up feeling warm and contented for the first time in a long time, if not ever. The moment didn’t last because, almost immediately, he remembered the night before.
He shouldn’t have… With Merlin, he shouldn’t have. It was wrong, he was an FBI agent and Merlin was a victim he needed to protect. It went against every regulation and personal rule Arthur had set for himself. And Merlin, he probably wasn’t in the right mind after all that had happened. He’d said so himself, he was prone to moodswings. Maybe they’d affected his judgement.
As much as he wanted to be with Merlin, as much as it hurt him, he had to let him go.
Merlin started stirring, waking up slowly. He stretched languidly and opened his eyes, looking straight at Arthur, warm and fuzzy with sleep. Arthur could almost pretend that he didn’t mind letting Merlin go, that it was better because then he could protect Merlin.
“About last night,” Arthur started. And he saw it, he saw the moment the words registered with Merlin, because he saw him stiffen slightly and the warmth drain from his eyes.
“Don’t worry about it,” Merlin said coldly. “It was nothing.”
It wasn’t nothing, Arthur wanted to say. I wanted it. Instead, he got out of bed, ignoring how cold he felt as he slipped from Merlin’s side. “I’ll go and find some breakfast. Don’t open the door for anyone.”
**
When Arthur got back with a small bag of groceries and a few essentials, he found Gwaine waiting outside the management building. He decided to ignore him and get back to Merlin as fast as possible.
“Agent Pendragon!” Gwaine called when he saw that Arthur was just going to keep on walking. There was no trace of the usual easy, charming smile on his face. Instead, he looked serious and focused.
“How do you know my name?” Arthur hissed, looking around to make sure nobody had heard him.
Instead of answering, Gwaine just pulled out a badge. “MI5.”
“What’s an MI5 agent doing all the way out here?” Arthur asked, cautious. Gwaine was still, as far as Arthur was concerned, a possible threat. “Are you even allowed to operate in the United States?”
“I’d say I’m here looking for the same reason you are - Gaius.”
“What do you know about him?” Arthur asked.
“Not much, just that he’s involved in the disappearance of several people back in the UK. We suspect he’s involved in something much bigger, something that might pose a threat to us. Can’t really tell you more though, it’s all a bit classified.”
“Do you know why he’s targeting magic users?”
“I’m thinking that the magic and the pregnancies are connected.”
Arthur nodded. He’d been thinking the same. As far as he could tell, and that wasn’t very far at all at this point, all the abduction victims had had magic, and all of them had been made pregnant. He didn’t know why magic was needed for the forced pregnancies, but he was hoping Gwaine would know.
“How?”
Gwaine shrugged. “Looks like you know as much as I do,” he said. “But one thing I do know, agent Pendragon, is that Merlin is a really nice lad and doesn’t deserve any of this.”
“Don’t worry,” Arthur said. “I’ll protect him.”
“That’s not just what I mean,” Gwaine continued. “He’s scared, he’s out of his depth. He doesn’t just need an FBI agent to protect him, he needs a friend. He needs someone to see him as a person and not as a case.”
Arthur couldn’t really promise to be Merlin’s friend, especially not after last night.
“Listen,” Arthur said. “I have to get going.”
Which was the truth. He’d been gone far too long already, and he didn’t want to risk Merlin being found all on his own. It could all have been a delaying tactic, giving the two men from last night a chance to get to Merlin before he got back.
But still, following their conversation, it wasn’t that Arthur trusted Gwaine, but it did at least seem that he had Merlin’s best interests at heart. He was relying on his gut feeling a lot on this case, but so far, it had worked. So he was going to trust it once again, and hope that Gwaine really was on their side.
Opening the door to see Merlin still there, fully dressed and sitting on the bed, a bit sullen, reinforced the idea that maybe Gwaine wasn’t a threat, and maybe he’d found somewhat of an ally.
“I got donuts,” Arthur said. “And I didn’t know what you drink so I got you a hot chocolate.”
Merlin seemed to perk up at that. “It’s like you read my mind!”
Arthur went to sit next to him on the bed, handing him his drink and putting the box of donuts between them. It was nice, Arthur thought, sitting like this, almost comfortable. If only he could explain this to Merlin…
After a moment of comfortable silence, Merlin spoke up. “So how come you have an English accent?” he asked. “I didn’t think you could work at the FBI if you weren’t American?”
“Went to school in England,” Arthur answered. “That’s all there is to it.”
“Bet you went to one of those posh public schools,” Merlin said, nudging him playfully. “You sound like that kind of person.”
“Sound like what kind of person, exactly?”
“A prat who went to a public school, what do you think?”
Usually, Arthur would have been offended at the kind of presumptions Merlin was bringing up, but Merlin had this warm, teasing smile on his face, like he didn’t mean any of it. And that was enough to quell the anger growing in him.
“Better than sounding like an idiot,” Arthur retorted. “A nosey idiot at that too.”
Merlin just laughed. “How old are you, three?”
Arthur was just about to retort something terribly witty in hopes of making Merlin laugh again when Merlin cringed and brought a hand up to his stomach.
“Are you alright?” he asked instead, concerned. He didn’t know anything about ‘normal’ pregnancies, he had no idea what he could do if something went wrong with Merlin’s.
“Fine, fine,” Merlin said. “It’s just woken up and wanted attention, I guess.”
“How do you know?”
“Well, it’s kicking right now. That’s pretty attention-demanding if you ask me.”
“What’s it like?”
Arthur was trying, really trying, not to be curious about this whole ‘male pregnancy’ thing because he didn’t know if Merlin wanted to talk about it. But it was really hard, especially when Merlin seemed to be in pain.
“Uncomfortable, a bit painful at times,” Merlin replied truthfully. “Here, give me your hand.”
Merlin took his hand and placed it against the curve of his stomach, under his T-shirt, right against his warm skin.
“Just give it a sec,” he said.
And then, there was the most strange sensation under his palm. Kicking?
“Oh wow,” Arthur said, at loss for words. It was strangely intimate to be sitting there, hand against Merlin’s stomach. It almost felt like they were… a couple. Something that Arthur really, really wanted to see happen.
Merlin was staring at him, amused and a bit fond. “That’s one way of putting it,” he said, like Arthur was a bit daft. And maybe he was.
“Does the baby do that a lot then?” Arthur asked. He hoped the baby would kick again.
“Yeah,” Merlin said. “Especially when I’m trying to sleep.”
“Must be tough.”
“Yeah,” Merlin said again. “It’s just so wrong, this whole pregnancy thing. But at the same time, I can’t blame the baby for all this. At least, I can’t. I dunno if others would. Are there others?”
“Lots,” Arthur replied.
“Shit.”
“I’m here to make it stop,” Arthur said. “I won’t let anyone else go through this.”
“Pity you couldn’t do that before it happened to me,” Merlin said wistfully.
But if I had, Arthur wanted to say, I would never have met you. Even though it made him feel guilty, he couldn’t help the way he felt.
“I wonder what it’ll look like,” Merlin said, a few moments later. “I keep on having these nightmares and it looks like this alien, covered in blood.”
And again, Arthur didn’t know what to say to make Merlin feel better. But he didn’t need to worry about that, because a few seconds later, his mobile phone started ringing.
Arthur got up and looked through his travel bag until he found it. He still wasn’t used to having a phone he could take with him everywhere he went. And he wasn’t sure he liked it, either. Sometimes, he just didn’t want to be contacted.
“Hello?” he answered.
“Arthur,” came the voice of Uther Pendragon on the other side. “I trust I’m not waking you?”
“Of course not, sir,” Arthur replied.
“Good, good. I suppose you’re wondering why I’m calling.”
“Yes.”
Why exactly was his father calling now? It could only mean bad news - was he about to be fired?
“I’ve been keeping an eye on you while you worked your current ‘case’,” Uther said, the quotation marks around case clearly audible. “You’ve been doing an excellent job despite the lack of concrete evidence.”
“Thank you, sir,” Arthur said, relaxing slightly. It didn’t sound like bad news at all. But why did his father know about this case?
“I think you’ve redeemed yourself from your mistake, son. I’ve decided to transfer you back to your original division, effective today.”
Arthur couldn’t quite believe his ears. Finally, his dream of leaving the X-Files was coming true, but at the worst possible time. He couldn’t leave, not yet. He had to protect Merlin, he had to find who had done this to him.
“Thank you, sir,” Arthur replied. “But -”
“Don’t worry about your current case,” Uther interrupted. “I’m sure agent Du Lac will be able to handle it once he returns. You can drop the case now, unless you don’t want to leave the X-Files?”
“No, of course not!” Arthur said.
“Good. I’ll expect you back to work on Monday morning, bright and early. Do not continue to investigate this case.”
And with that, Arthur’s father hung up.
“Who was that?” Merlin asked.
“My father,” Arthur said. “He wants me off the X-Files.”
“Oh so this,” Merlin said angrily, pointing at his bump, “is an X-File.”
“I don’t make the rules,” Arthur said, reasonable. “It doesn’t make you weird.”
“But I already am weird because of this,” Merlin countered.
Arthur sighed angrily. “I don’t understand what you’re going on about! Are you upset because you’re an X-File or not?”
“I don’t know!” Merlin shouted. “I didn’t ask for any of this, I just wanted to lead a normal life and now I can’t and I’m stuck with the son of the director of the FBI who’s about to leave me to deal with this huge mess on my own.”
“Wait, is that why you’re upset?” Arthur asked. “You think I’m going to leave you?”
“Well, your father wants you off the case, right?”
“If I obeyed everything my father said…” Arthur started. “I’m not going to leave you, I’m taking you with me back to DC. I promised I’d protect you, didn’t I?”
Arthur had his own reasons to not drop the case, but his father’s call was definitely strange. It wasn’t like him to interrupt a case like that. It almost felt like a warning, like Arthur was continuing at his own peril. Was he trying to hide something? If he was, Arthur was definitely going to find out. He wasn’t the kind of person to drop a case, not when he’d got this far, not when there was so much at stake.
**
Arthur drove them all the way back to DC. He would have taken the plane, but as Merlin had pointed out several times, it was impossible to do so without risking their cover. So he had driven for five days straight while Merlin sat beside him, chatting, singing along to the radio, or napping. At night, they’d stayed at various motels where Arthur refused to sleep without his gun under the pillow. They were at their most vulnerable then - Arthur needed to sleep and Merlin wasn’t trained to keep watch.
Finally, on Sunday, very early in the morning, Arthur parked his rental car in his allocated spot and helped Merlin up to his flat on the third floor.
“You take the bed,” Arthur said, closing the front door behind him.
“But it’s your flat,” Merlin protested.
“And that makes you the guest,” Arthur countered. “You’ll sleep in the bed.”
“You drove all the way from Washington!”
“You’re pregnant,” Arthur argued. “I don’t know much about pregnancies but I do know that your back is probably hurting. The couch isn’t comfortable so take the damn bed and get some sleep.”
“No need to be such an arse about it,” Merlin muttered before leaving Arthur alone.
There was another reason Arthur wasn’t mentioning. To get to the bedroom, any intruder would have to walk past the living room. And Arthur’s couch was positioned so that it faced the hall, making it impossible for anyone to get to Merlin without Arthur knowing.
Arthur only got a few hours of fitful sleep before the sun’s rays streaming through the window woke him up.
His first reflex was to check on Merlin - still asleep, curled up on one side, snoring softly. Once that was out of the way, Arthur went to the kitchen to see what he had to make breakfast.
Arthur always made sure to eat something for breakfast - there was no way of knowing whether a high-activity case would cross his path and the last thing he wanted was to have to worry about having enough energy to pursue it. Criminals didn’t wait till after lunch. That didn’t mean he was very creative about it - muesli, fruit, coffee and a glass of orange juice. Sometimes the supermarket had things like muffins (English muffins, that is), which made a nice change. But overall, he was a man of habit.
He was almost out of muesli, and in few days he’d been gone, the fruit had gone mouldy and the milk had soured. Fortunately, he had bacon and eggs in his fridge. That would more than do. Hopefully Merlin wouldn’t mind.
By the time Arthur had finished cooking breakfast, Merlin had joined him in the small kitchen, standing next to the open window and watching Arthur cook.
“Did you sleep alright?” Arthur asked as he placed two plates on the table, trying to dissolve the slightly awkward silence. Small talk wasn’t something he was very good at, but it couldn’t hurt to try.
Merlin sat down facing Arthur and started picking at his meal.
“Yeah, not bad,” he said. “Did my back wonders,” he added with a tentative smile.
“Good.”
Still, their short exchange did little to dismiss the awkward silence.
“I have to go into work today,” Arthur tried again.
“Oh?” Merlin said, fork half-way to his mouth.
“There are a few things I want to look into.”
“Okay. What about me?”
“You’re not going to like this,” Arthur started. “But I have a friend at work, Gwen. She’s a geneticist in our science labs. I want her to have a look at you, run a few tests.”
“You’re right,” Merlin agreed, crossing his arms defensively. “I don’t like this.”
This was something Arthur had thought about several times during the drive from Washington. He didn’t know what the tests would reveal, but he was hoping they would reveal something, another piece in this mess of a puzzle.
“You haven’t had any tests run since finding out, right?” Merlin nodded. “I trust Gwen, I know she’ll take good care of you.”
“But why tests?” Merlin asked. “What are you hoping to find?”
“More clues,” Arthur answered.
“Clues to what?” Merlin asked.
And he just had to keep on pushing. Arthur didn’t know whether to be annoyed or amused. Merlin was so stubborn, not unlike Arthur himself.
“Just clues,” Arthur said.
**
Gwen was, as Arthur had hoped, more than willing to come into work on her day off just because he’d asked nicely (and promised dinner).
There were very few people at the Bureau on Sunday which made it easy enough for Arthur to smuggle Merlin into the building without raising any suspicions.
Gwen closed the door to the lab behind them, locking it to make sure nobody randomly (or not-so-randomly) walked in on them.
“Gwen,” Arthur said. “This is Merlin, the guy I told you about on the phone. Merlin, this is Gwen, the best scientist at the FBI.”
“Don’t exaggerate, Arthur. Nice to meet you,” Gwen said, holding her hand out to shake Merlin’s. She was having a hard time figuring out where to look, torn between wanting to stare at Merlin’s baby bump and not wanting to be rude.
“Likewise,” Merlin replied.
“What exactly do you have in mind, Arthur?” Gwen asked. “Because you didn’t exactly tell me anything over the phone.”
“I was worried my phone line was being tapped,” Arthur argued. “I really can’t trust anyone other than you, Gwen.”
Gwen nodded.
“I don’t know what exactly is going on,” Arthur continued. “But I do know that Merlin was abducted and now he’s pregnant and I think the two events are linked.”
“What do you want me to do?” Gwen asked.
“Can you run some tests? On Merlin and the baby?”
“Um, sure,” she said. “But what am I looking for?”
“I don’t know, Gwen, I really don’t know. Anything, really. Anything abnormal.”
“You do realise that with a pregnant man, everything’s going to be abnormal, right?” Gwen teased.
“Thanks, Gwen,” Arthur said. “I really owe you one.”
“Yes you do,” Gwen replied. “I’m sure you’ll find a way of making amends.”
Arthur smiled at her before turning to Merlin. Merlin was standing off to one side, looking apprehensive and nervous.
“Hey,” Arthur said gently. “Alright?”
Merlin nodded. “Just a bit worried about the tests.”
“Don’t worry, I trust Gwen completely. You couldn’t be in better hands.”
Merlin gave him a small smile and Arthur smiled back.
“I promise I’ll be back as soon as I can,” Arthur said, taking both of Merlin’s hands in his and squeezing them comfortingly. “You’ll be safe here.”
“Okay,” Merlin said, squeezing back. Arthur wanted so badly to lean in and kiss him. Instead, he let go of his hands and made his way to the door.
“Call me if you find anything,” Arthur said as he unlocked the door.
“Will do,” Gwen said, closing and locking the door behind him.
Go to part 3