(Love Me) When I'm Gone
fandom: merlin
rating: pg-13/t
word count: 5k
category: slash; pairing(s): merlin/arthur
characters: arthur pendragon, merlin, morgana, gwen, gaius, leon, gwaine, uther pendragon, mordred, kilgharrah
genre: modern au, developing relationship, friendship, angst, hurt/comfort, mental hospital, can be read as reincarnation
warnings: mental illness, slight abuse of authority
disclaimer: don't own anything, don't make any money from this, you know the drill.
summary: Nursing school prepared Arthur for dealing with the mentally unstable, but nothing could have ever prepared him for Merlin.
a/n: written for merlin_muses 2013
so first off here's the deal, nursing school does last 3 years and there is one in bristol called glenside; bethlem mental hospital is a real thing and it's the go-to place for those suffering from psychotic disorders; psychotic disorder not otherwise specified is a legit diagnosis and that's about it for the facts. i've never been to a mental hospital and after an extensive google search on bethlem proved to be unsuccessful, i decided to wing it so i'm sorry if i was way way off, but let's all just play along and pretend i wasn't. second important thing - i wrote this so it could be taken as resurrection!fic, but in my mind, it isn't; ofc, you can read it any way you like.
i'm not entirely happy with how this turned out and i wish i'd given myself more time to do it but oh well now, i hope [prompter] finds it satisfactory
feedback is always appreciated ^.^
(Love Me) When I'm Gone
Arthur hadn’t always wanted to be a nurse. In fact, when he finally got his degree at the age of 28 a few months prior, he was the oldest person in his class. A large part of him, the one that is used to being the best at everything, is somewhat bothered by the fact that he wasn't the amazing prodigy that the rest of the group had to catch up with. There were times during the three years he spent at Glenside when, looking at all the people around him, years younger and already knowing who they were and what they wanted, he felt like he had fallen behind on life.
When Arthur was in his early twenties, the age of most of his former classmates, he studied economy and got a job in his father's company. It was the most logical, natural, and perhaps most importantly, the easiest progression of his life after high school. At the time, he was too young and immature to know himself well enough to choose his own path, so he let his father's expectations do it for him. He hasn't regretted it per se, because the experience he gained from that period of his life has helped him grow and become the person he is today. However, there is no denying that his relationship with his father would probably be better today if he hadn't left the family business of insuring paranoid rich people for what his father calls pointless volunteering.
Arthur can trace his (renewed) interest in medicine back to one morning when he passed a car accident site on his way to work, recognized one of the cars involved as that of one of his colleagues and suddenly wished he could help somehow. It reminded him of the time when he was a boy who didn't yet understand anything, who blamed the doctors and nurses at the hospital for his mother's death and who swore up and down that he would become a doctor who would make sure nobody's mother ever died again. It was just a moment's instinctive thought that reminded him of a silly childhood dream, but Arthur soon found it would not leave him alone.
The more “casual research” Arthur did into becoming involved with the medical field in some way, the better the idea seemed to him. Of course, he quickly realized that it was too late for him to start studying to be a doctor (and that he didn't have the perseverance for it anyway). But just as quickly, it became clear to him that he would never be satisfied signing off on life insurance all day again. Behind his father's back (feeling guilty all along), he took an extended first aid course that cemented his decision to enrol in a nursing school, and that was how he ended up leaving his letter of resignation on his father's desk (not the best way to quit a job his father had groomed him for since birth, and a move he would be made to regret for the rest of his life by his father's manipulative use of a disappointed tone whenever he spoke of Arthur's career), taking the money from his savings account and temporarily relocating to Bristol.
He would be much harder pressed to explain how he ended up a mental health nurse. Up until the point when he was supposed to officially make his decision, Arthur was convinced he would pick adult nursing - he'd always felt like he didn't have enough patience for helping with learning disabilities or mental patients, and children had always made him nervous, so adult nursing was the thing that made most sense. And it was perhaps that exact way of thinking and how it reminded him of how he spent years doing something he didn't actually care about because it made sense that had him reorienting towards mental health.
Standing in front of Bethlem, listening to the taxi he took there drive away, he is nervous like he's never been before. He could barely sleep last night, instead revising basically all three years of his education in an anxious haze, even though he knew his chances of getting a serious, unsupervised task on his first day of employment ever were about the same as his chances of winning the lottery he wasn't playing. But at the same time, tired and fidgety as he is, he looks up at the heavy wooden door in front of him and his palms itch with the desire to push them open. And that's how he knows the choices he's made that got him there were the right ones.
~*~
Even though Arthur's been working at Bethlem for months now, and he hasn't had a senior nurse assigned to follow him around and watch him like a hawk in weeks, he still feels like the awkward newbie whenever he visits certain wards.
Entering the Alzheimer's patients' rooms is still just as confusing as it was the second time he did rounds there - no matter how much training he got, it always felt awkward walking into somebody's room and having to guess if they knew their children promised to visit today or if they thought they needed to do basic algebra homework. Walking through the brightly coloured hallways between children's rooms is still just as creepy as it was the first time, the pink bunny drawings completely at odds with the drugged, numb faces peeking through the doors and windows, some of them still childishly round. And seeing people his age aimlessly milling around, talking to people only they can see makes him wonder why he ever thought being a mental nurse was a good idea.
And yet, when he takes out a release form or sees someone walk out hopefully never to come back again, it makes his whole day.
It's a very demanding job, physically and emotionally, Arthur is finding. He goes home every day drained and exhausted; he wakes up every morning so early, the sun is not even up sometimes; he commutes to work; he gets a grand total of maybe half an hour of a real break all day. For someone who grew up the way Arthur did, this is a huge adjustment. During his first few weeks at Bethlem, Arthur wasn't sure he'd be able to make it, but he grit his teeth and set his alarm clock to an even earlier time, determined to stick it out (if for nothing else, then just to spite his father). By now, early mornings, long hours, hard work and early nights are all a regular part of his life.
With his new lifestyle, Arthur also got new friends (something he is very grateful for, as his previous coworkers weren't the most interesting or the most pleasant people). One of the first people he befriended was Gwen, the nurse who was supposed to supervise him. At first, Arthur was a little intimidated by her experience and confidence, but it wasn't long before he was drawn in by her kindness and friendliness. She's still his closest friend at Bethlem, in fact, so when she looks at him like he's a lost puppy before she reads the daily assignments, he knows he's in for a long day.
~*~
Arthur has always been that guy who was part of the sports team wherever he went. And while he's never been interested in all that healthy lifestyle bullshit, he's never smoked before. That all changed when he started working.
His job description at Bethlem is as simple as it is vague - he does whatever the patients and their doctors need him to do. On a good day, it can be filing and archiving or marking his observations on patients or making sure everything is running smoothly; on a bad day, it can be monitoring therapies or patrolling the children's ward. It keeps Arthur on his toes and he's sure not bored, but it can be very stressful.
When Arthur pointed this out to Gwen, she laughed. She told him everyone went through a period of adjustment and he'd get used to it eventually. She also mentioned he would probably acquire some new nervous habits. He never thought one of those would be smoking.
And yet, here he is, standing at the back door with a lit cigarette in hand. Gwen is lighting her second cigarette, shielding the lighter with her hand. She's telling Arthur about how she used to want to become a nutritionist and how her boyfriend teases her all the time about all the unhealthy food choices she makes now. Arthur laughs, drops the cigarette butt and puts it out with his foot, only half-listening to Gwen.
That morning he woke up to a text from his father, asking if they could meet somewhere to talk. Arthur hasn't replied yet. The last time his father wanted to talk to him, Arthur spent one of the most uncomfortable hours of his life in a five star restaurant, listening to Uther tear apart his new life. He's not really looking forward to doing that again. At the same time, he cares about his father and simply dismissing him is not an option.
Arthur looks at Gwen and he almost asks her for advice, but, close as they've gotten, they've only known each other for just under a year and Arthur just doesn't feel comfortable starting this particular discussion. Instead, he lights another cigarette. He wonders what his father is going to say about his smoking.
~*~
At any given moment, Bethlem has over 300 patients, some of them staying there indefinitely. Part of Arthur's job is to know all of them by name and diagnosis and at any given moment he could swear he could name at least 200 patients. Among them are people of all ages, with illnesses ranging from depression to schizophrenia. It's up to Arthur to treat them all equally, make them feel as comfortable as they possibly can and teach them that not only is it not their fault they're there but there's also nothing wrong with being unwell.
Arthur does genuinely believe that, but sometimes it's not easy acting the same around everyone; Arthur feels perfectly okay keeping an eye on Mrs. Hamilton during her walk in the garden, listening to her stories from the war, but it's a whole other ballgame sitting opposite Mordred.
Mordred is only 11 years old, but he's one of the more permanent residents at Bethlem. At first, his parents tried to deal with his schizophrenia on their own, but eventually, the strain on their family became too much and with his parents in the middle of a divorce, Mordred has been staying at Bethlem for the last few months. Arthur was one of the nurses who were responsible for taking Mordred to his room when he first arrived. For some reason, Mordred became really attached to him after that, so now Arthur is responsible for being on top of Mordred's therapy and drugs, as well as keeping the kid company.
Arthur cares for Mordred, but at the same time, listening to someone that young talking about violent voices nobody else hears gives him nightmares. Sometimes, Arthur wishes he could get some therapy as well.
~*~
When Arthur first came to work at Bethlem, he knew it wouldn't be easy; he expected having to spend hours and hours around people who might be violent or suicidal and hallucinating, he expected having to come to terms with the fact that many of them would never get better, he expected being occupied with his patients' needs, but he never expected to become so attached to them.
Arthur is not a very emotional person and he doesn't connect with people easily, but he's come to genuinely care about some of his patients. Sometimes he feels ridiculous when he's so proud of the progress someone made that he just wants to call someone and tell them about it, or when it breaks his heart to see someone's condition worsen, and sometimes he pretends like his work doesn't get to him as much as it does, but the truth is, Arthur has never been more at peace with his life. He feels like he's doing something worthwhile, he knows he's needed and wanted and cared for, and that's something he's wanted his whole life.
So when Uther calls him every once in a while and asks him how he's doing, Arthur talks about his patients and he talks about his job and he's not upset that he has nothing to say about his personal life; in time, his father stops hoping he will see the error of his ways and go back to the family business, but it doesn't really matter anymore because by then, Arthur is so confident in his life choices that Uther's opinion doesn't even bring him down.
~*~
Three years after his own first day at Bethlem, Arthur is in charge of supervising a nursing student who is doing her practical classes there. He's torn between being proud of himself for having made it into that position and feeling a bit ridiculous having to teach someone how to be a good mental health nurse when he feels like there is so much he can still learn himself.
Still, he takes Morgana through the hospital, introduces her to some of the patients, has her fill out some charts. He's trying to put off the time when he has to check up on Mordred in the psychosis ward, because he knows he will have to take Morgana with him and he doesn't want to traumatize her on her first day ever in a mental hospital. Still, there comes a point when he has no choice, so he prepares Morgana for what she's about to see as best as he can and starts leading her upstairs.
On their way, they run into Dr Gaius who asks Arthur to check up on his new patient, someone named Merlin Emrys, who has just been admitted, and let him know that a doctor would be there soon to evaluate him. Arthur is not happy that he has to take Morgana to see a patient he doesn't know what to expect from, but it's not like he has a choice.
Morgana, as it turns out, is perfectly capable of handling herself, certainly more capable than Arthur was when he was in his second year and the new patient appears perfectly stable and comprehending when Arthur speaks to him. Arthur wonders why he's even there.
~*~
Working with the mentally unstable, Arthur has had to develop a pretty good sense of his surroundings, so when he starts to feel like someone is constantly watching him, he doesn't think that he's losing it, but rather trusts his gut feeling. And sure enough, whenever the hairs on his arms stand up, he looks around himself and sees the new patient, Merlin, looking at him.
Merlin is tall and he appears to be physically fit and strong, he has pale skin and dark hair long enough to curl at the tips, he's sporting stubble and his eyes, following Arthur around wherever he goes, are so blue, Arthur feels like he can see them shine across the room; all in all, Merlin is a pretty memorable guy, so Arthur is pretty sure that he would remember having met Merlin before, and he doesn't. The way Merlin looks at him, though, gives him the impression that Merlin knows him from somewhere, that he's just waiting for Arthur to do... something. It's weird, Arthur feels like something is expected of him, but he has no idea what. And Merlin just keeps watching him.
~*~
Merlin's admittance form informs Arthur that Merlin was committed at the request of his mother, who felt he was potentially dangerous to others and himself; he's 26 and suffering from a psychotic disorder not otherwise specified. It's a bullshit diagnosis Arthur has only seen twice before, and the way he sees it, all it means is that nobody actually knows what's wrong with the patient, but the chart has to say something.
Arthur puts Merlin's file away again and locks the drawer. In the two weeks Merlin's been at Bethlem, Arthur hasn't noticed him having any obvious mood swings, hallucinations or any other psychotic episodes; he doesn't appear dangerous and he seems completely out of place in his ward. Arthur tells himself that these are the reasons he's taking such an interest in Merlin.
~*~
“He's an odd one, isn't he?” Gwaine asks as he knocks back the two white pills Arthur hands him. “Even here, I mean.”
Arthur follows the direction Gwaine's looking in and isn't surprised to find himself locking eyes with Merlin. “Is he?” Arthur plays dumb, but he knows Gwaine is not gonna fall for it.
And sure enough, “Oh please,” he laughs. “I know you've noticed he looks at you all the time. I know you look at him as well.”
“What are you implying?” Arthur jokes, nudging Gwaine's leg with his knee, but the truth is that Gwaine is not wrong - Merlin hasn't stopped following him since he got to Bethlem, and Arthur's been finding it more and more difficult to ignore it. So far, however, Arthur's work hasn't brought him in contact with Merlin. Arthur is well within his bounds to speak to Merlin, even about his condition, but Merlin's interest in him makes him uncomfortable, so he doesn't.
He looks up again and Merlin is still staring at him. There's a half-smile curling one corner of his lips. If they were anywhere else, Arthur would be asking Merlin for his phone number by now. That is precisely why he asks Leon to finish distributing the meds while he barricades himself behind all the forms he needs to fill out.
~*~
Arthur is so busy reading Dr Kilgarrah's notes on Mordred's chart that he doesn't even notice Merlin is in Mordred's room until he hears an unfamiliar voice greet him.
“Good morning, Arthur.”
Arthur looks and finds Merlin sitting on Mordred's bed. Mordred is not the easiest person to get close to, Arthur should know best, so the fact that Merlin is allowed to be that friendly with Mordred takes Arthur by surprise. And Mordred, well, he's not exactly smiling, but he looks the happiest Arthur's ever seen him.
“Good morning,” Arthur replies carefully. “What are you doing here?”
“Oh, we were just catching up,” Merlin says cheerfully, getting up and heading for the door. “We knew each other once,” he adds as he walks past Arthur. For the briefest of moments, Merlin's fingers brush over the inside of Arthur's wrist; Arthur feels like a shock of electricity goes through him at the touch. Arthur watches Merlin walk out the door before turning to Mordred.
“Strange friend you have there,” he says. Mordred just smiles cryptically at him.
~*~
Arthur knows Merlin is behind him. He pretends that he hasn't noticed because sometimes Merlin will do that. Sometimes Merlin will also start talking to him. Sometimes Merlin will make him laugh. Sometimes Merlin will make him uncomfortable.
The thing is, Arthur likes Merlin. He doesn't know much about Merlin outside of what his medical chart says because Merlin only ever starts the most random, silly conversations with him, but he enjoys Merlin's company. Merlin is smart and funny and they get along like they've known each other forever. At first, Arthur felt weird thinking of a legally insane person as his friend, but Merlin has never shown a single sign of a psychotic disorder to Arthur.
“I never would've pegged you for a smoker if I didn't know better,” Merlin comments when Arthur heads towards the back exit.
“What, you think I don't look good with a cigarette?” Arthur jokes, shaking one out of a pack and lighting it as he opens the door. He's not, strictly speaking, following the rules by having Merlin there with him, but it's not the first time they've done it.
“Oh no, I think you look very hot with a cigarette, I'm just not sure it goes with your personality.”
Merlin is leaning against the railing of the stairs, arms spread and one of his hips pressed against the metal. The plain white t-shirt he's wearing has ridden up and Arthur can just make out the just of a hip bone, the dark hair under his belly button. Arthur knows Merlin is very well aware of what he's doing, can see it in the smirk on his face, but he just brushes it off with a joke. Merlin lets him, like he always does. It's a strange dance they've been doing for a couple of weeks now. Arthur is not comfortable being stuck in it, but at the same time he neither wants to end it nor to take it somewhere further.
He takes a drag from his cigarette and looks at Merlin, his eyes stilling on Merlin's lips for a beat longer than appropriate. He knows Merlin notices. When he leads Merlin back inside, he lets his hand rest lower on Merlin's back than it should. Neither of them says anything.
Arthur's never felt more unprofessional in his entire life. But there's just something special about Merlin.
~*~
“So, are you never going to ask me about it?” Merlin prompts, picking at his fingernails.
“Ask you what?” Arthur asks, distracted as he cleans the cut on Mordred's forehead.
“Come on, I know you know I'm not counting green bears or hearing furniture's homicidal plans.” Arthur shoot him a look. “What? Mordred is not offended by that, are you, Mordred?” Merlin grins. Mordred shakes his head at him.
Arthur rolls his eyes. “Why are you here?”
“Shouldn't I be asking you that?” Merlin replies with a wry smile.
Arthur snorts. “You've been waiting to say that for weeks, haven't you?”
“Ever since I got here,” Merlin sing-songs with a smile.
Arthur wants to say that it's not that funny, but Mordred is smiling and well, Arthur is too, so he just shakes his head.
~*~
“Pendragon!” Arthur looks up from his hand (a pair of queens, a ten and a two) and finds Dr Gaius beckoning him over, one eyebrow halfway up his forehead as per usual. “Come on, a patient requested your presence in therapy today.”
Arthur leaves his cards on the table as he stands up. “I would've kicked your asses, just so you know,” he tells Gwaine and Leon.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Gwaine replies, grinning.
Arthur initially assumes Mordred wanted him there for his therapy, but when Gaius takes him past Kilgarrah's office and all the way down to hallway to his own, Arthur knows this is about someone else. Nurses are not normally required to attend one-on-one therapy unless they are specifically requested, and Mordred is the only one who's ever asked for Arthur's presence so Arthur is a bit confused.
Until he walks into the office that is.
Merlin is sitting in a black arm chair, his legs folded beneath him. He smiles at Arthur and nods at Gaius. Arthur can tell this is not his first time there.
Gaius instructs Arthur to sit in a chair at his desk and observe without interfering. Arthur already knows why he's there, has been in that situation before, so he tunes out Gaius's voice, instead trying to puzzle out why Merlin wanted him there from his face. But Merlin keeps his expression politely closed off.
Arthur watches as Gaius settles into his own chair, puts on his reading classes, clips a new sheet of paper to his clipboard, grabs a pen. All the while, he knows Merlin is looking at him.
“Merlin,” Gaius starts, “do you know why you're here?”
“I'm here because you all think I'm crazy. But mostly because my mom thinks I'm crazy enough to hurt someone.” He says it with a blank face, like he's said time and again before, but Arthur catches a break in his voice that gives him away.
Gaius makes a note on his clipboard before continuing. “Mmhm. And you disagree?”
“I never hurt anyone before, did I?”
Arthur knows he's supposed to be the moral support, the silent observer, blending in with the background, but with Merlin not taking his eyes off him, he feels like Gaius has taken over that role. Because while Gaius may be the one asking the questions, Merlin's answers are clearly directed at Arthur.
“Did you always think you lost your magic?” Gaius asks.
Arthur's eyebrows are up before he has the decency to stop himself. Naturally, Merlin notices, and when he says, “I always knew I lost my magic,” it's as if he's challenging Arthur to say something, to contradict him.
“Tell me about your magic,” Gaius says as he calmly writes something in his notes.
Arthur sits back and listens to Merlin explain, with such zeal and excitement, what it felt like to be the most powerful sorcerer in the world. And the worst part is, the way Merlin looks as he talks about it, the way he can hardly control his hands, the way his eyes brighten up, the way he smiles - Arthur has never seen him that excited. And he's never found him that attractive.
Arthur leans back in his chair feeling sick to his stomach.
~*~
“I know you've been avoiding me,” Merlin says, leaning on his doorframe as Arthur walks by on his way to Gaius's office.
Arthur takes a deep breath before turning to face him. Merlin is right, ever since that day with Gaius last week, Arthur has done his best to stay away from Merlin. He knows it's totally immature, but he didn't know how else to deal with it. He went from having mentally unstable friends to flirting with someone criminally insane to being in love with someone convinced they're a warlock. It hasn't been the easiest month for him either.
But it all sort of fades into the back of his mind when he looks at Merlin.
Arthur finds himself admiring how expressive Merlin's face is because he can tell Merlin was hurt; his eyes look tired and he clearly hasn't shaved in days. But at the same time, Merlin's body language is inviting, like he can't stop himself around Arthur.
And Arthur knows all too well what that's like, because for the last few months, he's been barely controlling himself around Merlin as well.
“I haven't,” he lies flatly.
“Bull,” Merlin replies calmly. “So, now that you think I'm crazy, where does that leave us?”
Arthur wishes he knew what to say.
~*~
In the end, it's not Merlin's condition that makes Arthur uncomfortable, it's the fact that he forgot Merlin had it. And that was his own fault. So he doesn't say anything when he finds Merlin in Mordred's room the next time he's there or when Merlin sits next to him in the lounge or goes with him to the yard. He tries to keep himself constantly aware of the fact that Merlin is his patient and for a good reason, but it's not always easy, especially when Merlin always seems so, for lack of a better word, normal.
And soon enough Arthur finds himself again sitting ever closer to Merlin, taking every opportunity to touch him or visit his room; Merlin might as well have put a spell on him, for all the self-control Arthur lacks around him.
“I know you think I'm delusional,” Merlin says one afternoon. Arthur's shift is long over and he's been in Merlin's room for the last few hours; the window is open and Arthur is standing next to it, cigarette in hand. Merlin is sitting cross-legged on the bed, leafing through Mordred's sketchbook. “And I know what you're gonna say, my telling you that I believe what I'm saying is not really much proof since that's basically the definition of a delusion, but...”
Arthur puts his cigarette out on the windowsill. They've never really talked about Merlin's condition and Arthur's been dreading the day when they would have to; he doesn't want to hurt Merlin's feelings again and he knows he can't dissuade him from his beliefs, but he can't just play ball and pretend that magic is a real thing that Merlin somehow lost. He waits for Merlin to continue talking and when that doesn't happen, he turns around only to find that Merlin is standing right next to him.
“Arthur, you know me,” Merlin says, reaching out and taking both of Arthur's hands. “I know you know I'm not insane.”
Arthur tries to move away from Merlin because Merlin's touch does things to him and he feels like if he stays there any longer, gets any closer, he might as well throw his entire career down the drain because of Merlin's hands, cold where they're touching him, Merlin's face, so close Arthur can see every individual eyelash, just Merlin, looking at him, pleading with his eyes, like Arthur's opinion is the only one that matters; it's the one thing Arthur knows is wrong on every imaginable level and still all he wants is to lean in and kiss Merlin. He turns his head to the side, stops himself from leaning closer.
“Look at me,” Merlin begs, one of his hands touching Arthur's chin gently, guiding his face so they're looking at each other. “I know what I'm doing and I know what I'm saying and I know how it sounds. I can tell right from wrong and real from imagined, I do not belong here, you know that, I know you do!”
What Arthur knows is that there is a woman somewhere out there who thinks her son is unwell enough to be dangerous and that two medical professionals signed off on it and that Arthur is not, under any circumstances, supposed to feel this way about a patient, but all of that matters for nothing when Merlin is getting closer.
“I know you,” Merlin says, quietly now, the tip of his nose touching Arthur's cheek, “you, and Mordred and Gwen and Gaius and even Morgana. Can't you feel it? We know each other from before.”
Arthur is barely even listening to what Merlin is saying, his eyes are closed and his whole body is thrumming with anticipation of what he knows is coming, of what he needs to happen.
Merlin runs his fingers over the side of Arthur's face. “You don't remember, do you?” he says, his thumb feathering over Arthur's cheekbone.
Arthur's eyes flutter open and Merlin is just so close. “I don't...” he starts, but isn't sure how to finish. Remember? Understand? Care?
“It's okay, you don't need to remember yet. You don't even need to understand,” Merlin whispers. “I just need you to trust me.”
“I do,” Arthur replies immediately. And in that moment, he truly does, in spite of every last rational bit of him, in spite of all he's been taught, all he knows. And when Merlin kisses him, Arthur knows it's the last thing he should do, but he kisses back.
~*~
Arthur resigns the following day.
rating: pg-13/t
word count: 5k
category: slash; pairing(s): merlin/arthur
characters: arthur pendragon, merlin, morgana, gwen, gaius, leon, gwaine, uther pendragon, mordred, kilgharrah
genre: modern au, developing relationship, friendship, angst, hurt/comfort, mental hospital, can be read as reincarnation
warnings: mental illness, slight abuse of authority
disclaimer: don't own anything, don't make any money from this, you know the drill.
summary: Nursing school prepared Arthur for dealing with the mentally unstable, but nothing could have ever prepared him for Merlin.
a/n: written for merlin_muses 2013
so first off here's the deal, nursing school does last 3 years and there is one in bristol called glenside; bethlem mental hospital is a real thing and it's the go-to place for those suffering from psychotic disorders; psychotic disorder not otherwise specified is a legit diagnosis and that's about it for the facts. i've never been to a mental hospital and after an extensive google search on bethlem proved to be unsuccessful, i decided to wing it so i'm sorry if i was way way off, but let's all just play along and pretend i wasn't. second important thing - i wrote this so it could be taken as resurrection!fic, but in my mind, it isn't; ofc, you can read it any way you like.
i'm not entirely happy with how this turned out and i wish i'd given myself more time to do it but oh well now, i hope [prompter] finds it satisfactory
feedback is always appreciated ^.^
(Love Me) When I'm Gone
Arthur hadn’t always wanted to be a nurse. In fact, when he finally got his degree at the age of 28 a few months prior, he was the oldest person in his class. A large part of him, the one that is used to being the best at everything, is somewhat bothered by the fact that he wasn't the amazing prodigy that the rest of the group had to catch up with. There were times during the three years he spent at Glenside when, looking at all the people around him, years younger and already knowing who they were and what they wanted, he felt like he had fallen behind on life.
When Arthur was in his early twenties, the age of most of his former classmates, he studied economy and got a job in his father's company. It was the most logical, natural, and perhaps most importantly, the easiest progression of his life after high school. At the time, he was too young and immature to know himself well enough to choose his own path, so he let his father's expectations do it for him. He hasn't regretted it per se, because the experience he gained from that period of his life has helped him grow and become the person he is today. However, there is no denying that his relationship with his father would probably be better today if he hadn't left the family business of insuring paranoid rich people for what his father calls pointless volunteering.
Arthur can trace his (renewed) interest in medicine back to one morning when he passed a car accident site on his way to work, recognized one of the cars involved as that of one of his colleagues and suddenly wished he could help somehow. It reminded him of the time when he was a boy who didn't yet understand anything, who blamed the doctors and nurses at the hospital for his mother's death and who swore up and down that he would become a doctor who would make sure nobody's mother ever died again. It was just a moment's instinctive thought that reminded him of a silly childhood dream, but Arthur soon found it would not leave him alone.
The more “casual research” Arthur did into becoming involved with the medical field in some way, the better the idea seemed to him. Of course, he quickly realized that it was too late for him to start studying to be a doctor (and that he didn't have the perseverance for it anyway). But just as quickly, it became clear to him that he would never be satisfied signing off on life insurance all day again. Behind his father's back (feeling guilty all along), he took an extended first aid course that cemented his decision to enrol in a nursing school, and that was how he ended up leaving his letter of resignation on his father's desk (not the best way to quit a job his father had groomed him for since birth, and a move he would be made to regret for the rest of his life by his father's manipulative use of a disappointed tone whenever he spoke of Arthur's career), taking the money from his savings account and temporarily relocating to Bristol.
He would be much harder pressed to explain how he ended up a mental health nurse. Up until the point when he was supposed to officially make his decision, Arthur was convinced he would pick adult nursing - he'd always felt like he didn't have enough patience for helping with learning disabilities or mental patients, and children had always made him nervous, so adult nursing was the thing that made most sense. And it was perhaps that exact way of thinking and how it reminded him of how he spent years doing something he didn't actually care about because it made sense that had him reorienting towards mental health.
Standing in front of Bethlem, listening to the taxi he took there drive away, he is nervous like he's never been before. He could barely sleep last night, instead revising basically all three years of his education in an anxious haze, even though he knew his chances of getting a serious, unsupervised task on his first day of employment ever were about the same as his chances of winning the lottery he wasn't playing. But at the same time, tired and fidgety as he is, he looks up at the heavy wooden door in front of him and his palms itch with the desire to push them open. And that's how he knows the choices he's made that got him there were the right ones.
~*~
Even though Arthur's been working at Bethlem for months now, and he hasn't had a senior nurse assigned to follow him around and watch him like a hawk in weeks, he still feels like the awkward newbie whenever he visits certain wards.
Entering the Alzheimer's patients' rooms is still just as confusing as it was the second time he did rounds there - no matter how much training he got, it always felt awkward walking into somebody's room and having to guess if they knew their children promised to visit today or if they thought they needed to do basic algebra homework. Walking through the brightly coloured hallways between children's rooms is still just as creepy as it was the first time, the pink bunny drawings completely at odds with the drugged, numb faces peeking through the doors and windows, some of them still childishly round. And seeing people his age aimlessly milling around, talking to people only they can see makes him wonder why he ever thought being a mental nurse was a good idea.
And yet, when he takes out a release form or sees someone walk out hopefully never to come back again, it makes his whole day.
It's a very demanding job, physically and emotionally, Arthur is finding. He goes home every day drained and exhausted; he wakes up every morning so early, the sun is not even up sometimes; he commutes to work; he gets a grand total of maybe half an hour of a real break all day. For someone who grew up the way Arthur did, this is a huge adjustment. During his first few weeks at Bethlem, Arthur wasn't sure he'd be able to make it, but he grit his teeth and set his alarm clock to an even earlier time, determined to stick it out (if for nothing else, then just to spite his father). By now, early mornings, long hours, hard work and early nights are all a regular part of his life.
With his new lifestyle, Arthur also got new friends (something he is very grateful for, as his previous coworkers weren't the most interesting or the most pleasant people). One of the first people he befriended was Gwen, the nurse who was supposed to supervise him. At first, Arthur was a little intimidated by her experience and confidence, but it wasn't long before he was drawn in by her kindness and friendliness. She's still his closest friend at Bethlem, in fact, so when she looks at him like he's a lost puppy before she reads the daily assignments, he knows he's in for a long day.
~*~
Arthur has always been that guy who was part of the sports team wherever he went. And while he's never been interested in all that healthy lifestyle bullshit, he's never smoked before. That all changed when he started working.
His job description at Bethlem is as simple as it is vague - he does whatever the patients and their doctors need him to do. On a good day, it can be filing and archiving or marking his observations on patients or making sure everything is running smoothly; on a bad day, it can be monitoring therapies or patrolling the children's ward. It keeps Arthur on his toes and he's sure not bored, but it can be very stressful.
When Arthur pointed this out to Gwen, she laughed. She told him everyone went through a period of adjustment and he'd get used to it eventually. She also mentioned he would probably acquire some new nervous habits. He never thought one of those would be smoking.
And yet, here he is, standing at the back door with a lit cigarette in hand. Gwen is lighting her second cigarette, shielding the lighter with her hand. She's telling Arthur about how she used to want to become a nutritionist and how her boyfriend teases her all the time about all the unhealthy food choices she makes now. Arthur laughs, drops the cigarette butt and puts it out with his foot, only half-listening to Gwen.
That morning he woke up to a text from his father, asking if they could meet somewhere to talk. Arthur hasn't replied yet. The last time his father wanted to talk to him, Arthur spent one of the most uncomfortable hours of his life in a five star restaurant, listening to Uther tear apart his new life. He's not really looking forward to doing that again. At the same time, he cares about his father and simply dismissing him is not an option.
Arthur looks at Gwen and he almost asks her for advice, but, close as they've gotten, they've only known each other for just under a year and Arthur just doesn't feel comfortable starting this particular discussion. Instead, he lights another cigarette. He wonders what his father is going to say about his smoking.
~*~
At any given moment, Bethlem has over 300 patients, some of them staying there indefinitely. Part of Arthur's job is to know all of them by name and diagnosis and at any given moment he could swear he could name at least 200 patients. Among them are people of all ages, with illnesses ranging from depression to schizophrenia. It's up to Arthur to treat them all equally, make them feel as comfortable as they possibly can and teach them that not only is it not their fault they're there but there's also nothing wrong with being unwell.
Arthur does genuinely believe that, but sometimes it's not easy acting the same around everyone; Arthur feels perfectly okay keeping an eye on Mrs. Hamilton during her walk in the garden, listening to her stories from the war, but it's a whole other ballgame sitting opposite Mordred.
Mordred is only 11 years old, but he's one of the more permanent residents at Bethlem. At first, his parents tried to deal with his schizophrenia on their own, but eventually, the strain on their family became too much and with his parents in the middle of a divorce, Mordred has been staying at Bethlem for the last few months. Arthur was one of the nurses who were responsible for taking Mordred to his room when he first arrived. For some reason, Mordred became really attached to him after that, so now Arthur is responsible for being on top of Mordred's therapy and drugs, as well as keeping the kid company.
Arthur cares for Mordred, but at the same time, listening to someone that young talking about violent voices nobody else hears gives him nightmares. Sometimes, Arthur wishes he could get some therapy as well.
~*~
When Arthur first came to work at Bethlem, he knew it wouldn't be easy; he expected having to spend hours and hours around people who might be violent or suicidal and hallucinating, he expected having to come to terms with the fact that many of them would never get better, he expected being occupied with his patients' needs, but he never expected to become so attached to them.
Arthur is not a very emotional person and he doesn't connect with people easily, but he's come to genuinely care about some of his patients. Sometimes he feels ridiculous when he's so proud of the progress someone made that he just wants to call someone and tell them about it, or when it breaks his heart to see someone's condition worsen, and sometimes he pretends like his work doesn't get to him as much as it does, but the truth is, Arthur has never been more at peace with his life. He feels like he's doing something worthwhile, he knows he's needed and wanted and cared for, and that's something he's wanted his whole life.
So when Uther calls him every once in a while and asks him how he's doing, Arthur talks about his patients and he talks about his job and he's not upset that he has nothing to say about his personal life; in time, his father stops hoping he will see the error of his ways and go back to the family business, but it doesn't really matter anymore because by then, Arthur is so confident in his life choices that Uther's opinion doesn't even bring him down.
~*~
Three years after his own first day at Bethlem, Arthur is in charge of supervising a nursing student who is doing her practical classes there. He's torn between being proud of himself for having made it into that position and feeling a bit ridiculous having to teach someone how to be a good mental health nurse when he feels like there is so much he can still learn himself.
Still, he takes Morgana through the hospital, introduces her to some of the patients, has her fill out some charts. He's trying to put off the time when he has to check up on Mordred in the psychosis ward, because he knows he will have to take Morgana with him and he doesn't want to traumatize her on her first day ever in a mental hospital. Still, there comes a point when he has no choice, so he prepares Morgana for what she's about to see as best as he can and starts leading her upstairs.
On their way, they run into Dr Gaius who asks Arthur to check up on his new patient, someone named Merlin Emrys, who has just been admitted, and let him know that a doctor would be there soon to evaluate him. Arthur is not happy that he has to take Morgana to see a patient he doesn't know what to expect from, but it's not like he has a choice.
Morgana, as it turns out, is perfectly capable of handling herself, certainly more capable than Arthur was when he was in his second year and the new patient appears perfectly stable and comprehending when Arthur speaks to him. Arthur wonders why he's even there.
~*~
Working with the mentally unstable, Arthur has had to develop a pretty good sense of his surroundings, so when he starts to feel like someone is constantly watching him, he doesn't think that he's losing it, but rather trusts his gut feeling. And sure enough, whenever the hairs on his arms stand up, he looks around himself and sees the new patient, Merlin, looking at him.
Merlin is tall and he appears to be physically fit and strong, he has pale skin and dark hair long enough to curl at the tips, he's sporting stubble and his eyes, following Arthur around wherever he goes, are so blue, Arthur feels like he can see them shine across the room; all in all, Merlin is a pretty memorable guy, so Arthur is pretty sure that he would remember having met Merlin before, and he doesn't. The way Merlin looks at him, though, gives him the impression that Merlin knows him from somewhere, that he's just waiting for Arthur to do... something. It's weird, Arthur feels like something is expected of him, but he has no idea what. And Merlin just keeps watching him.
~*~
Merlin's admittance form informs Arthur that Merlin was committed at the request of his mother, who felt he was potentially dangerous to others and himself; he's 26 and suffering from a psychotic disorder not otherwise specified. It's a bullshit diagnosis Arthur has only seen twice before, and the way he sees it, all it means is that nobody actually knows what's wrong with the patient, but the chart has to say something.
Arthur puts Merlin's file away again and locks the drawer. In the two weeks Merlin's been at Bethlem, Arthur hasn't noticed him having any obvious mood swings, hallucinations or any other psychotic episodes; he doesn't appear dangerous and he seems completely out of place in his ward. Arthur tells himself that these are the reasons he's taking such an interest in Merlin.
~*~
“He's an odd one, isn't he?” Gwaine asks as he knocks back the two white pills Arthur hands him. “Even here, I mean.”
Arthur follows the direction Gwaine's looking in and isn't surprised to find himself locking eyes with Merlin. “Is he?” Arthur plays dumb, but he knows Gwaine is not gonna fall for it.
And sure enough, “Oh please,” he laughs. “I know you've noticed he looks at you all the time. I know you look at him as well.”
“What are you implying?” Arthur jokes, nudging Gwaine's leg with his knee, but the truth is that Gwaine is not wrong - Merlin hasn't stopped following him since he got to Bethlem, and Arthur's been finding it more and more difficult to ignore it. So far, however, Arthur's work hasn't brought him in contact with Merlin. Arthur is well within his bounds to speak to Merlin, even about his condition, but Merlin's interest in him makes him uncomfortable, so he doesn't.
He looks up again and Merlin is still staring at him. There's a half-smile curling one corner of his lips. If they were anywhere else, Arthur would be asking Merlin for his phone number by now. That is precisely why he asks Leon to finish distributing the meds while he barricades himself behind all the forms he needs to fill out.
~*~
Arthur is so busy reading Dr Kilgarrah's notes on Mordred's chart that he doesn't even notice Merlin is in Mordred's room until he hears an unfamiliar voice greet him.
“Good morning, Arthur.”
Arthur looks and finds Merlin sitting on Mordred's bed. Mordred is not the easiest person to get close to, Arthur should know best, so the fact that Merlin is allowed to be that friendly with Mordred takes Arthur by surprise. And Mordred, well, he's not exactly smiling, but he looks the happiest Arthur's ever seen him.
“Good morning,” Arthur replies carefully. “What are you doing here?”
“Oh, we were just catching up,” Merlin says cheerfully, getting up and heading for the door. “We knew each other once,” he adds as he walks past Arthur. For the briefest of moments, Merlin's fingers brush over the inside of Arthur's wrist; Arthur feels like a shock of electricity goes through him at the touch. Arthur watches Merlin walk out the door before turning to Mordred.
“Strange friend you have there,” he says. Mordred just smiles cryptically at him.
~*~
Arthur knows Merlin is behind him. He pretends that he hasn't noticed because sometimes Merlin will do that. Sometimes Merlin will also start talking to him. Sometimes Merlin will make him laugh. Sometimes Merlin will make him uncomfortable.
The thing is, Arthur likes Merlin. He doesn't know much about Merlin outside of what his medical chart says because Merlin only ever starts the most random, silly conversations with him, but he enjoys Merlin's company. Merlin is smart and funny and they get along like they've known each other forever. At first, Arthur felt weird thinking of a legally insane person as his friend, but Merlin has never shown a single sign of a psychotic disorder to Arthur.
“I never would've pegged you for a smoker if I didn't know better,” Merlin comments when Arthur heads towards the back exit.
“What, you think I don't look good with a cigarette?” Arthur jokes, shaking one out of a pack and lighting it as he opens the door. He's not, strictly speaking, following the rules by having Merlin there with him, but it's not the first time they've done it.
“Oh no, I think you look very hot with a cigarette, I'm just not sure it goes with your personality.”
Merlin is leaning against the railing of the stairs, arms spread and one of his hips pressed against the metal. The plain white t-shirt he's wearing has ridden up and Arthur can just make out the just of a hip bone, the dark hair under his belly button. Arthur knows Merlin is very well aware of what he's doing, can see it in the smirk on his face, but he just brushes it off with a joke. Merlin lets him, like he always does. It's a strange dance they've been doing for a couple of weeks now. Arthur is not comfortable being stuck in it, but at the same time he neither wants to end it nor to take it somewhere further.
He takes a drag from his cigarette and looks at Merlin, his eyes stilling on Merlin's lips for a beat longer than appropriate. He knows Merlin notices. When he leads Merlin back inside, he lets his hand rest lower on Merlin's back than it should. Neither of them says anything.
Arthur's never felt more unprofessional in his entire life. But there's just something special about Merlin.
~*~
“So, are you never going to ask me about it?” Merlin prompts, picking at his fingernails.
“Ask you what?” Arthur asks, distracted as he cleans the cut on Mordred's forehead.
“Come on, I know you know I'm not counting green bears or hearing furniture's homicidal plans.” Arthur shoot him a look. “What? Mordred is not offended by that, are you, Mordred?” Merlin grins. Mordred shakes his head at him.
Arthur rolls his eyes. “Why are you here?”
“Shouldn't I be asking you that?” Merlin replies with a wry smile.
Arthur snorts. “You've been waiting to say that for weeks, haven't you?”
“Ever since I got here,” Merlin sing-songs with a smile.
Arthur wants to say that it's not that funny, but Mordred is smiling and well, Arthur is too, so he just shakes his head.
~*~
“Pendragon!” Arthur looks up from his hand (a pair of queens, a ten and a two) and finds Dr Gaius beckoning him over, one eyebrow halfway up his forehead as per usual. “Come on, a patient requested your presence in therapy today.”
Arthur leaves his cards on the table as he stands up. “I would've kicked your asses, just so you know,” he tells Gwaine and Leon.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Gwaine replies, grinning.
Arthur initially assumes Mordred wanted him there for his therapy, but when Gaius takes him past Kilgarrah's office and all the way down to hallway to his own, Arthur knows this is about someone else. Nurses are not normally required to attend one-on-one therapy unless they are specifically requested, and Mordred is the only one who's ever asked for Arthur's presence so Arthur is a bit confused.
Until he walks into the office that is.
Merlin is sitting in a black arm chair, his legs folded beneath him. He smiles at Arthur and nods at Gaius. Arthur can tell this is not his first time there.
Gaius instructs Arthur to sit in a chair at his desk and observe without interfering. Arthur already knows why he's there, has been in that situation before, so he tunes out Gaius's voice, instead trying to puzzle out why Merlin wanted him there from his face. But Merlin keeps his expression politely closed off.
Arthur watches as Gaius settles into his own chair, puts on his reading classes, clips a new sheet of paper to his clipboard, grabs a pen. All the while, he knows Merlin is looking at him.
“Merlin,” Gaius starts, “do you know why you're here?”
“I'm here because you all think I'm crazy. But mostly because my mom thinks I'm crazy enough to hurt someone.” He says it with a blank face, like he's said time and again before, but Arthur catches a break in his voice that gives him away.
Gaius makes a note on his clipboard before continuing. “Mmhm. And you disagree?”
“I never hurt anyone before, did I?”
Arthur knows he's supposed to be the moral support, the silent observer, blending in with the background, but with Merlin not taking his eyes off him, he feels like Gaius has taken over that role. Because while Gaius may be the one asking the questions, Merlin's answers are clearly directed at Arthur.
“Did you always think you lost your magic?” Gaius asks.
Arthur's eyebrows are up before he has the decency to stop himself. Naturally, Merlin notices, and when he says, “I always knew I lost my magic,” it's as if he's challenging Arthur to say something, to contradict him.
“Tell me about your magic,” Gaius says as he calmly writes something in his notes.
Arthur sits back and listens to Merlin explain, with such zeal and excitement, what it felt like to be the most powerful sorcerer in the world. And the worst part is, the way Merlin looks as he talks about it, the way he can hardly control his hands, the way his eyes brighten up, the way he smiles - Arthur has never seen him that excited. And he's never found him that attractive.
Arthur leans back in his chair feeling sick to his stomach.
~*~
“I know you've been avoiding me,” Merlin says, leaning on his doorframe as Arthur walks by on his way to Gaius's office.
Arthur takes a deep breath before turning to face him. Merlin is right, ever since that day with Gaius last week, Arthur has done his best to stay away from Merlin. He knows it's totally immature, but he didn't know how else to deal with it. He went from having mentally unstable friends to flirting with someone criminally insane to being in love with someone convinced they're a warlock. It hasn't been the easiest month for him either.
But it all sort of fades into the back of his mind when he looks at Merlin.
Arthur finds himself admiring how expressive Merlin's face is because he can tell Merlin was hurt; his eyes look tired and he clearly hasn't shaved in days. But at the same time, Merlin's body language is inviting, like he can't stop himself around Arthur.
And Arthur knows all too well what that's like, because for the last few months, he's been barely controlling himself around Merlin as well.
“I haven't,” he lies flatly.
“Bull,” Merlin replies calmly. “So, now that you think I'm crazy, where does that leave us?”
Arthur wishes he knew what to say.
~*~
In the end, it's not Merlin's condition that makes Arthur uncomfortable, it's the fact that he forgot Merlin had it. And that was his own fault. So he doesn't say anything when he finds Merlin in Mordred's room the next time he's there or when Merlin sits next to him in the lounge or goes with him to the yard. He tries to keep himself constantly aware of the fact that Merlin is his patient and for a good reason, but it's not always easy, especially when Merlin always seems so, for lack of a better word, normal.
And soon enough Arthur finds himself again sitting ever closer to Merlin, taking every opportunity to touch him or visit his room; Merlin might as well have put a spell on him, for all the self-control Arthur lacks around him.
“I know you think I'm delusional,” Merlin says one afternoon. Arthur's shift is long over and he's been in Merlin's room for the last few hours; the window is open and Arthur is standing next to it, cigarette in hand. Merlin is sitting cross-legged on the bed, leafing through Mordred's sketchbook. “And I know what you're gonna say, my telling you that I believe what I'm saying is not really much proof since that's basically the definition of a delusion, but...”
Arthur puts his cigarette out on the windowsill. They've never really talked about Merlin's condition and Arthur's been dreading the day when they would have to; he doesn't want to hurt Merlin's feelings again and he knows he can't dissuade him from his beliefs, but he can't just play ball and pretend that magic is a real thing that Merlin somehow lost. He waits for Merlin to continue talking and when that doesn't happen, he turns around only to find that Merlin is standing right next to him.
“Arthur, you know me,” Merlin says, reaching out and taking both of Arthur's hands. “I know you know I'm not insane.”
Arthur tries to move away from Merlin because Merlin's touch does things to him and he feels like if he stays there any longer, gets any closer, he might as well throw his entire career down the drain because of Merlin's hands, cold where they're touching him, Merlin's face, so close Arthur can see every individual eyelash, just Merlin, looking at him, pleading with his eyes, like Arthur's opinion is the only one that matters; it's the one thing Arthur knows is wrong on every imaginable level and still all he wants is to lean in and kiss Merlin. He turns his head to the side, stops himself from leaning closer.
“Look at me,” Merlin begs, one of his hands touching Arthur's chin gently, guiding his face so they're looking at each other. “I know what I'm doing and I know what I'm saying and I know how it sounds. I can tell right from wrong and real from imagined, I do not belong here, you know that, I know you do!”
What Arthur knows is that there is a woman somewhere out there who thinks her son is unwell enough to be dangerous and that two medical professionals signed off on it and that Arthur is not, under any circumstances, supposed to feel this way about a patient, but all of that matters for nothing when Merlin is getting closer.
“I know you,” Merlin says, quietly now, the tip of his nose touching Arthur's cheek, “you, and Mordred and Gwen and Gaius and even Morgana. Can't you feel it? We know each other from before.”
Arthur is barely even listening to what Merlin is saying, his eyes are closed and his whole body is thrumming with anticipation of what he knows is coming, of what he needs to happen.
Merlin runs his fingers over the side of Arthur's face. “You don't remember, do you?” he says, his thumb feathering over Arthur's cheekbone.
Arthur's eyes flutter open and Merlin is just so close. “I don't...” he starts, but isn't sure how to finish. Remember? Understand? Care?
“It's okay, you don't need to remember yet. You don't even need to understand,” Merlin whispers. “I just need you to trust me.”
“I do,” Arthur replies immediately. And in that moment, he truly does, in spite of every last rational bit of him, in spite of all he's been taught, all he knows. And when Merlin kisses him, Arthur knows it's the last thing he should do, but he kisses back.
~*~
Arthur resigns the following day.