Halluljah 2/4 - The minor fall
There was a lot of people asking for more of Halluljah ( http://community.livejournal.com/merlinxarthur/1598064.html#cutid1), and I got lots of ideas. I've written it up, and have devided it into 4 bits, because of length. Here is part 2.
Summary - Their daughter is finally here, but with Arthur back at work, how will Merlin cope?
Rating - R
Warnings - Mentions self harm, references to post natal depression
Spoliers - None
Disclaimer - I own nothing
“It’s a girl!” A scrubs wearing Arthur announced as Merlin gave one final push. Merlin sighed happily as a scream broke the air. Finally 56 hours of labour were over. His and Arthur’s a baby was finally here. “You’re brilliant Merlin,” Arthur whispered as he kissed his husbands sweaty forehead. Merlin chuckled.
“Did you have a stroke at any point in the last few days?” He asked. Arthur didn’t respond, for, at that very second, their daughter was laid out on Merlin’s chest. “Hey beautiful…” Merlin whispered as he lend down to kiss his daughters head. She immediately burst into tears.
“Idiot!” Arthur scoffed affectionately. However Merlin looked so at ease with their daughter, he couldn’t help but beam. Suddenly life was perfect.
“What shall we call her?” Merlin whispered later that day. Their daughter slept in a cot beside him. Merlin was yet to sleep, despite his prolonged labour. He’d spent the last few hours just watching his baby... holding her, talking to her, and, occasionally talking to Arthur. When he was awake that is.
“I think we should name her after me,” Arthur said boastfully as he thrust his chest out in an important sort of way.
“I’m not calling my daughter ‘Prat’” Merlin said with a grin. Arthur half felt like scolding him, but then looked at his eyes. His eyes that were sparkling in wonderment and happiness, yet eyes that were ringed with shadows that reminded him Merlin hadn’t slept in days.
“I was kidding Merlin. If anything, we should name her after you... she looks like you after all,” Arthur said, carefully reaching out to stroke his sleeping daughter’s dark hair.
“She has your eyes...” Merlin whispered smiling as he looked into those that belonged to Arthur. Arthur blushed.
“I didn’t notice,” He said, embarrassed at the admission. Merlin laughed.
“I would tell you off, but I’ve barely let you lay a hand on her. And when I did, she was sleeping,” He said. Arthur laughed.
“You’ve carried her for nine whole months, I can understand that letting go now is the hardest thing,” Arthur whispered. He slipped his hand into Merlin’s and rubbed his fingers with his thumb. Merlin gave his hand a squeeze.
“I like Avalon“ Merlin whispered as he looked down at his daughter once again. “Avalon Pendragon,”
**
Merlin paced the room as he rocked a month old Avalon in his arms. It was 7am, and she had been up, and crying, since 5. Merlin was shattered. This was his first night alone with Avalon and he was struggling. He had already been up with her 3 times in the night and had slept very little. Now she was up again, and was refusing to settle. Normally, Arthur would take her for her 5am feeding, as he had to be up for work at 5.30am anyway, however, tonight he was away on business and Merlin was alone.
“What’s wrong baby? he whispered for what felt like the hundredth time. He wished his magic’s could allow him to communicate with his new-born daughter, but unfortunately for him, she seemed to have some kind of shield that stopped his magic from penetrating her brain. Merlin was unsure as to whether he found this a good thing, or a bad thing. Right now it seemed like the worst thing in the world, he wished that he knew what was wrong with her.
“I know you want Arthur Avy, I know, but he’s not here,” Merlin whispered, his patience on the edge. He felt like he hadn’t slept in days, and Avalon was showing no signs of stopping. By 8am Merlin had had enough. He had feed his daughter, changed her, burped her, bathed her... EVERYTHING! And still, here she was in his arms, hysterical, inconsolable.
“WHY WON’T YOU GO TO SLEEP!” Merlin screamed as he gave Avalon the tiniest of shakes. Avalon stopped for a few seconds, blinked, and then began her uncontrollable sobs yet again. “Oh god...” Merlin whispered. “What have I done?” Merlin felt hot bile rise in his throat due to the sheer disgust at himself at what he had just done. Tears stung his eyes, and, no matter how hard he blinked, he could not focus his blurry vision. He placed baby Avalon in her crib, and fled the room. Only when alone, on his and Arthurs martial bed, did he allow himself to sob his heart out, the sound of which, mirrored his daughters, that is until his strength gave way and he fell asleep.
**
It was getting dark that night, when Arthur arrived home. Merlin was just settling Avalon down to bed when he walked in the door, and yet again, she was refusing to settle. So consumed by Avalon was he, that Merlin did not notice Arthur behind him, only realising his presence when his husband slipped his arms around his waist and rested his head on his shoulder.
“Hey Merlin...” he whispered as he kissed his husbands cheek. Merlin did not speak, simply nodded. “She being fussy tonight?” Arthur whispered. Merlin blinked away a tear that he was sure Arthur could not see, and nodded. He did not trust himself to open his mouth. His voice would reveal how much pain this was causing him. If he could not take care of his daughter, what kind of person did that make him?”I’ll take her sweetie, you look shattered, go and lie down,” Arthur said as he scooped his daughter out of Merlin’s arms.
“I’m fine, really,” Merlin whispered. He watched as Arthur cooed at and rocked their daughter affectionately. He had a smile planted firmly on his lips, looking so happy, it was as if he hadn’t seen his family in weeks and not just overnight.
“Hey Avy, did you miss daddy? Did you? Daddy missed you, yes he did,” Arthur cooed as he rubbed his nose against Avalon’s. Avalon stopped sobbing, and simply gurgled in Arthur’s arms instead. “That’s my girl,” Arthur said. Avalon took this opportunity to reach up, and tug at Arthurs hair. “Ow, baby no, daddy likes his hair...” he said as he gently pulled her fingers away. He walked over to Merlin, and held her out to him. Merlin smiled slightly, and went to grab her. “Pull mummy’s hair instead,” Arthur said.
“You hold onto her Arthur!” he said as he held his hands up defensively. Arthur laughed and cooed at Avalon again.
“Aww baby, mummy’s scared off you, yes she is...” Arthur said. Before Merlin could reply however, Avalon gave Arthur the smallest of smiles. Her first smile. “Merlin! Did you see that? She smiled, she smiled!” Merlin gave a faint nod as Arthur cooed and congratulated their daughter. As happy as he was that his daughter had smiled for the first time, he couldn’t help but feel jealous. He was the one who took care of Avalon, him, not Arthur! And yet Arthur was the one to stop her crying, Arthur was the one who made her smile... Merlin felt a deep black shadow of despair fill his body and he slipped from the room before Arthur could see.
Alone in the bathroom, Merlin allowed a few tears to fall. He held back the sobs that were threatening to overtake him, for fear that Arthur would hear him. He could not let Arthur see how much he was struggling. He did not want Arthur to think him weak, and unfit parent or a bad person. Merlin however, had to do something to deal with the overwhelming urge to sob. Try as he might, the feeling would not leave him. He tried to think of a spell that might help him, but could think of none. Feelings and emotions were a persons’ own, and could not be meddled with. If magic is used to alter someone’s’ feelings or emotions, they must face the most terrible of consequences. Such as never being able to love again. Merlin was at the point where he seriously considered just letting his emotions overcome him, when he spotted it. His razor. Unlike Arthur, who used an electric razor, Merlin used an old fashioned plastic razor, that needed its blade changing every few shaves. When new, the blades were sharp and slipped into his flesh like a hot knife to butter. He knew this, as every time he changed the blade, he managed to cut his fingers. As he stared at the blade, Merlin remembered the time where he had cut open his finger while angry or upset. He remembered how the feeling went away in an instant as his brain became consumed by the pain and the need to clean the cut. The more he thought about it, the more it seemed like a good idea. He should cut himself. If he did, he would feel pain, and thus he would forget about everything he was feeling. Merlin carefully picked up a spare blade and examined it for a second, fear swirling in the pit of his stomach. Fear, and also anticipation and hope. Dare he cut himself? Would it ever work?
“Merlin?” Arthurs call scared him. He hadn’t realised how long he had been in the bathroom. He thought about just going straight out to Arthur, but knew he would be unable to mask the fact that he was upset. He knew in that instant, that he would have to cut himself. He could not, would not allow Arthur to see him in such a state.
“I’ll be right out Arthur,” he called. As he did so, he swiped the blade over his upper arm in one swift movement, knowing he would not have to think about it in that second, meaning he could not change his mind, or ponder is options too much longer. Merlin felt no pain, and for a few seconds, wondered if he had even cut himself. Then he felt it. An oozing warm liquid that was slowly dripping down his arm. He glanced down to see a small, thin shallow cut on his arm. Merlin was surprised that it didn’t hurt, disappointed even. He had just cut his arm with a razor blade, surely it should hurt! He took the blade in his hand again, and dragged it over the wound he had just made. He felt the slightest sting as the cut deepened, and hissed. As he hissed, he felt all the negativity in him drain away, replaced by adrenaline, and his body’s natural painkillers. Suddenly, in that second, everything was alright agin.
“Merlin, sweetie, you okay?” came Arthurs voice, along with a knock on the door. Merlin jumped and threw the blade away.
“Sedminium Hestoup” he whispered. Merlin’s eyes flashed gold, and the blood on his arm disappeared, the cut, replaced by a scar that could have been there for years. Merlin opened the door, and was meet with the sight of Arthur’s worried face. “Sorry, I had some bad chicken earlier, felt a little sick,” he whispered. Arthur frowned and pulled Merlin into his arms.
“Poor baby,” he whispered, as a wave of guilt hit Merlin.
.