If only this were a fairy tale, then I could kiss him awake Ch 3/?
Title: If only this were a fairy tale, then I could kiss him awake.
Author: Mishme
Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin
Pairing: Merlin/Arthur
Rating: nc-17, or at least it will be in later chapters.
Summary: Merlin is a long term care nurse (he deals with coma patients), and although he cares for all his patients he has one favorite, whom he is pretty sure is a complete prat, what happens when the prat wakes up...
Comments are love.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3a:
Arthur was having a stressful day, no make that a stressful month, growing up he had always had a intense respect for his father, sure the man was harsh sometimes, but he always had a good reason. However, as Arthur got older he started to question his father more and more, and to make it worse it wasn’t as if he could just confront his father with his doubts, being the proud man he was Uther took all criticism as disrespect, so Arthur had to try to voice his opinions in the most political way possible or keep his mouth shut. More and more Arthur was failing to see his father’s logic, why he shot down some companies while working for some that Arthur considered somewhat shady. In Arthur’s opinion it was the job of an advertising agency to get as many people as possible interested in a product, and the best way to do that was to bring out knew brands, with new interesting products that changed and adapted with the times, and although that required taking a chance on new companies Arthur figured that the pay out would be worth it, yet his father insisted on only taking accounts from already established huge companies, with old money, who let’s-face-it really don’t need any more help getting their name out there. But how was he, Arthur, supposed to argue with the man who had created this company from nothing , how could he tell Uther, who had held the company together when the economy was so awful that everyone said an Ad agency wouldn’t last, that he was wrong and that Arthur knew better than him.
So Arthur kept his mouth shut, but each day added to his stress, he tried to help out the small companies when he could, but there was little he could do. And to top it all off he kept feeling like he was forgetting something, like there was something really important that he just couldn’t remember, or someone.
“Sir, ii brou… brought you your… co…coffee.” His assistant, he thinks her name is Emily, stuttered. He may seem like a prick for not knowing her name, but truth be told she’s only worked for him for about two weeks, and he was planning on firing her soon if she didn’t quite, none of his assistants lasted long, and he couldn’t very well keep her on if she took two years just to tell him about his coffee, now could he?
“Arthur?!” His father demanded.
“Yes father?” Arthur asked, looking around, when had he gotten into his father’s office? And where had Emily gone?
“I was saying that you need to find a new account manager and get production up 20%, we don’t want our competition to think we’re slipping.” Uther repeated.
“Account mana…? What happened to the account manager we had?” Arthur asked, confused.
Uther sighed, “Have you not been paying attention, we let him go last week, in fact you were the one to fire him.” Uther looked disappointed than sighed again, “I don’t have time for this, come back and see me when you’re interested in this company again.”
“What? I am interes…”
“Arthur!” He heard his father shout, and shot up, why had he been leaning his head on the table? And how had he gotten into the conference room.
“Please excuse my son,” Uther said to the men suddenly sitting around the table, “he’s feeling extremely ill but insisted on coming into work anyways,” Uther said, all the while shooting Arthur disappointed looks for actually falling asleep during a meeting.
“I apologize, but am feel much better now, please continue,” Arthur said, maybe he really was getting sick, it had been years since he had a checkup anyways so he might as well schedule one after work. He tried to pay attention, pushing any health concerns to the back of his mind, but the meeting was so boring that he wished he actually could fall asleep.
Uther finally directed a question at Arthur, something about their budget for a certain account, but Arthur’s attention was suddenly directed elsewhere. Through the glass walls of the conference room Arthur saw a fleeting figure, just a flash really, but somehow he knew it was important, that they were important.
Before he could even think about it Arthur was on his feet, hurrying after the figure, he couldn’t even hear his father yelling at him, nothing existed but the figure. He chased it throughout the building, but every time he would round a corner just in time to see it disappear behind the next one. The timing was too perfect and part of Arthur’s mind wondered if this was part of the sickness, but that was ridiculous, Pendragon’s didn’t hallucinate.
“Stop!” Arthur cried out, “I order you to stop! Do you know who I am? I could have you fired!” Arthur ran and ran, only to see the blur combust, evaporating into smoke. Arthur could have sworn he heard the word ‘prat’ resonating in the air as the dark smoke filled the room.
He couldn’t breathe, his throat felt as though someone had poured acid down it, and he wondered is inhalation usually affected people this quickly, then again it seemed like a strange detail to have a problem with when a phantom just combusted in front of him. Also on that list was the fact tahat he couldn’t smell the smoke.
The pain was so overwhelming, yet somehow felt old, and he tried to grab at his throat, only to realize that he couldn’t move his arms.
Somehow he had ended up on the ground, his limbs lying uselessly around him, his eyes closed. Arthur tried to scream, to fight against the paralysis and pain with all his might, but his body wouldn’t respond and he could do nothing but lie on the floor waiting for death.
Merlin was astonished by the sight before him, he could feel Arthur’s pain and fear, see his body twitching as he tried to grab for the tracheal tube down his throat, but his weakend arms couldn’t obey him. Merlin couldn’t believe it, Arthur was waking up, if he didn’t kill himself in the process.
As Arthur’s world faded into blackness his fear for himself and for everyone else in the building where only calmed by one thing, the phantom’s voice whispering in his year, stuttering and bumbling, but telling him that everything would be alright.
Chapter 3b:
Weeks turned into months and Arthur’s condition didn’t change. He was breathing on his own now, as his body had fought back against the tube, and everyone told Merlin to be grateful and proud, but that that was as good as it would get.
Merlin tried to explain to them that Arthur had responded to stimuli, to the pain of the tube down his throat, and that he even moved, or at least tried to move, and then responded to Merlin’s attempts to calm him, but Merlin was told over and over again that it was an involuntary seizure and that Arthur didn’t have the mental compactly to know that Merlin was there, let alone respond to him.
Merlin began getting looks of pity and disbelief from his coworkers, he felt like a child who just told them about the scary monster in his closet, instead of a respected nurse.
Then finally, Arthur’s eyes flickered open, just for a second but it was enough, enough for Merlin to know that he wasn’t crazy and that Arthur really was waking up, albeit slowly. But apparently it wasn’t enough for everyone else.
Merlin was alone when Arthur moved, and every time Merlin tried to show someone else Arthur would lie still. They told Merlin that he was seeing only what he wanted to see, that maybe he was too attached to this patient, and that maybe he should take some time off.
Merlin refused and continued working at his job, with only Will’s support, but slowly his patients began disappearing from him, the families asking to have another nurse appointed, no doubt warned about him by those who thought he was losing it.
Then one day he entered Arthur’s room, surprised to see someone standing there, a dignified-looking older man stood over Arthur’s bed, looking down at his son.
“Mr. Pendragon,” Merlin breathed in surprise and relief, he knew what Uther Pendragon looked like from news articles and tv, and although his presents was intimidating, Merlin was relieved to see him. He had tried to contact Uther as soon as Arthur had had his ‘episode’ and although he was assured that his messages were passed on, Merlin wanted to talk to Uther in person about putting his son in a kind of therapy to help him emerge from his coma, and now that he was here Arthur would finally get the help he needed.
Uther turned around, looking down at the scrawny man in front of him, “Mr. Emrys, I was told you wished to speak to me.”
“Ye…Yes Sir… Uhm, as I’m sure you know Arthur had an ‘episode’ awhile back, in which his body fought back against the tracheal tube, and now he is trying to wake up, if only you…”
“Mr. Emrys, I’m sure you have good intentions, but my son was stolen from me three years ago by meningitis, one day he was alive and well, save for a slight flu, and the next he was gone. I assure you, your delusions, attempts to bend the facts into something that fits your fantasies, our only causing pain; to Arthur, me, and yourself. I have accepted my son’s death, and morned him, and you come along thinking you can trudge up the pain and misery losing him cost me, for what; money? The fame of saving Arthur Pendragon? Will I assure you, you will get none of that. I have already talked to your superiors and am moving Arthur to a facality closer to home, I have also recommended to them that they not let you continue to work here and poison others with your delusions, but that is up to him.” And just like that, Uther walked out of the room leaving Merlin gaping.
So that was Arthur’s father, no wonder Arthur was a bit of a prat, Merlin looked down at the prat in question. “Wake up you idiot, you can’t just go ruining my life and then just lay there, looking innocent. You don’t even have to wake up all the way, just move, open your eyes, do something!” Merlin yelled, now leaning over Arthur, barely stopping his sobs as Arthur lay there motionless, he’s never even talked to the man, or at least never gotten a response, so why does the idea of him leaving hurt so bad?
On to chapter 4
Author: Mishme
Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin
Pairing: Merlin/Arthur
Rating: nc-17, or at least it will be in later chapters.
Summary: Merlin is a long term care nurse (he deals with coma patients), and although he cares for all his patients he has one favorite, whom he is pretty sure is a complete prat, what happens when the prat wakes up...
Comments are love.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3a:
Arthur was having a stressful day, no make that a stressful month, growing up he had always had a intense respect for his father, sure the man was harsh sometimes, but he always had a good reason. However, as Arthur got older he started to question his father more and more, and to make it worse it wasn’t as if he could just confront his father with his doubts, being the proud man he was Uther took all criticism as disrespect, so Arthur had to try to voice his opinions in the most political way possible or keep his mouth shut. More and more Arthur was failing to see his father’s logic, why he shot down some companies while working for some that Arthur considered somewhat shady. In Arthur’s opinion it was the job of an advertising agency to get as many people as possible interested in a product, and the best way to do that was to bring out knew brands, with new interesting products that changed and adapted with the times, and although that required taking a chance on new companies Arthur figured that the pay out would be worth it, yet his father insisted on only taking accounts from already established huge companies, with old money, who let’s-face-it really don’t need any more help getting their name out there. But how was he, Arthur, supposed to argue with the man who had created this company from nothing , how could he tell Uther, who had held the company together when the economy was so awful that everyone said an Ad agency wouldn’t last, that he was wrong and that Arthur knew better than him.
So Arthur kept his mouth shut, but each day added to his stress, he tried to help out the small companies when he could, but there was little he could do. And to top it all off he kept feeling like he was forgetting something, like there was something really important that he just couldn’t remember, or someone.
“Sir, ii brou… brought you your… co…coffee.” His assistant, he thinks her name is Emily, stuttered. He may seem like a prick for not knowing her name, but truth be told she’s only worked for him for about two weeks, and he was planning on firing her soon if she didn’t quite, none of his assistants lasted long, and he couldn’t very well keep her on if she took two years just to tell him about his coffee, now could he?
“Arthur?!” His father demanded.
“Yes father?” Arthur asked, looking around, when had he gotten into his father’s office? And where had Emily gone?
“I was saying that you need to find a new account manager and get production up 20%, we don’t want our competition to think we’re slipping.” Uther repeated.
“Account mana…? What happened to the account manager we had?” Arthur asked, confused.
Uther sighed, “Have you not been paying attention, we let him go last week, in fact you were the one to fire him.” Uther looked disappointed than sighed again, “I don’t have time for this, come back and see me when you’re interested in this company again.”
“What? I am interes…”
“Arthur!” He heard his father shout, and shot up, why had he been leaning his head on the table? And how had he gotten into the conference room.
“Please excuse my son,” Uther said to the men suddenly sitting around the table, “he’s feeling extremely ill but insisted on coming into work anyways,” Uther said, all the while shooting Arthur disappointed looks for actually falling asleep during a meeting.
“I apologize, but am feel much better now, please continue,” Arthur said, maybe he really was getting sick, it had been years since he had a checkup anyways so he might as well schedule one after work. He tried to pay attention, pushing any health concerns to the back of his mind, but the meeting was so boring that he wished he actually could fall asleep.
Uther finally directed a question at Arthur, something about their budget for a certain account, but Arthur’s attention was suddenly directed elsewhere. Through the glass walls of the conference room Arthur saw a fleeting figure, just a flash really, but somehow he knew it was important, that they were important.
Before he could even think about it Arthur was on his feet, hurrying after the figure, he couldn’t even hear his father yelling at him, nothing existed but the figure. He chased it throughout the building, but every time he would round a corner just in time to see it disappear behind the next one. The timing was too perfect and part of Arthur’s mind wondered if this was part of the sickness, but that was ridiculous, Pendragon’s didn’t hallucinate.
“Stop!” Arthur cried out, “I order you to stop! Do you know who I am? I could have you fired!” Arthur ran and ran, only to see the blur combust, evaporating into smoke. Arthur could have sworn he heard the word ‘prat’ resonating in the air as the dark smoke filled the room.
He couldn’t breathe, his throat felt as though someone had poured acid down it, and he wondered is inhalation usually affected people this quickly, then again it seemed like a strange detail to have a problem with when a phantom just combusted in front of him. Also on that list was the fact tahat he couldn’t smell the smoke.
The pain was so overwhelming, yet somehow felt old, and he tried to grab at his throat, only to realize that he couldn’t move his arms.
Somehow he had ended up on the ground, his limbs lying uselessly around him, his eyes closed. Arthur tried to scream, to fight against the paralysis and pain with all his might, but his body wouldn’t respond and he could do nothing but lie on the floor waiting for death.
Merlin was astonished by the sight before him, he could feel Arthur’s pain and fear, see his body twitching as he tried to grab for the tracheal tube down his throat, but his weakend arms couldn’t obey him. Merlin couldn’t believe it, Arthur was waking up, if he didn’t kill himself in the process.
As Arthur’s world faded into blackness his fear for himself and for everyone else in the building where only calmed by one thing, the phantom’s voice whispering in his year, stuttering and bumbling, but telling him that everything would be alright.
Chapter 3b:
Weeks turned into months and Arthur’s condition didn’t change. He was breathing on his own now, as his body had fought back against the tube, and everyone told Merlin to be grateful and proud, but that that was as good as it would get.
Merlin tried to explain to them that Arthur had responded to stimuli, to the pain of the tube down his throat, and that he even moved, or at least tried to move, and then responded to Merlin’s attempts to calm him, but Merlin was told over and over again that it was an involuntary seizure and that Arthur didn’t have the mental compactly to know that Merlin was there, let alone respond to him.
Merlin began getting looks of pity and disbelief from his coworkers, he felt like a child who just told them about the scary monster in his closet, instead of a respected nurse.
Then finally, Arthur’s eyes flickered open, just for a second but it was enough, enough for Merlin to know that he wasn’t crazy and that Arthur really was waking up, albeit slowly. But apparently it wasn’t enough for everyone else.
Merlin was alone when Arthur moved, and every time Merlin tried to show someone else Arthur would lie still. They told Merlin that he was seeing only what he wanted to see, that maybe he was too attached to this patient, and that maybe he should take some time off.
Merlin refused and continued working at his job, with only Will’s support, but slowly his patients began disappearing from him, the families asking to have another nurse appointed, no doubt warned about him by those who thought he was losing it.
Then one day he entered Arthur’s room, surprised to see someone standing there, a dignified-looking older man stood over Arthur’s bed, looking down at his son.
“Mr. Pendragon,” Merlin breathed in surprise and relief, he knew what Uther Pendragon looked like from news articles and tv, and although his presents was intimidating, Merlin was relieved to see him. He had tried to contact Uther as soon as Arthur had had his ‘episode’ and although he was assured that his messages were passed on, Merlin wanted to talk to Uther in person about putting his son in a kind of therapy to help him emerge from his coma, and now that he was here Arthur would finally get the help he needed.
Uther turned around, looking down at the scrawny man in front of him, “Mr. Emrys, I was told you wished to speak to me.”
“Ye…Yes Sir… Uhm, as I’m sure you know Arthur had an ‘episode’ awhile back, in which his body fought back against the tracheal tube, and now he is trying to wake up, if only you…”
“Mr. Emrys, I’m sure you have good intentions, but my son was stolen from me three years ago by meningitis, one day he was alive and well, save for a slight flu, and the next he was gone. I assure you, your delusions, attempts to bend the facts into something that fits your fantasies, our only causing pain; to Arthur, me, and yourself. I have accepted my son’s death, and morned him, and you come along thinking you can trudge up the pain and misery losing him cost me, for what; money? The fame of saving Arthur Pendragon? Will I assure you, you will get none of that. I have already talked to your superiors and am moving Arthur to a facality closer to home, I have also recommended to them that they not let you continue to work here and poison others with your delusions, but that is up to him.” And just like that, Uther walked out of the room leaving Merlin gaping.
So that was Arthur’s father, no wonder Arthur was a bit of a prat, Merlin looked down at the prat in question. “Wake up you idiot, you can’t just go ruining my life and then just lay there, looking innocent. You don’t even have to wake up all the way, just move, open your eyes, do something!” Merlin yelled, now leaning over Arthur, barely stopping his sobs as Arthur lay there motionless, he’s never even talked to the man, or at least never gotten a response, so why does the idea of him leaving hurt so bad?
On to chapter 4