Twisting Bowl - Untitled
Title: Untitled
Author: Twisting Bowl
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin, Arthur/Other(past), Girl!Merlin, preg, Gwaine/Merlin
Summary: Modern!AU -When Girl!Merlin pushes for something more than just sex, Arthur soon stops her and spells out to Girl!Merlin very clearly that he has no intention of having a relationship with her, but that he really enjoys the sex.......Hurt, she decides that the best thing to do is to move on with her life, if not for her sake, than the sake of her unborn child (the child Arthur wants nothing to do with). After a chance encounter four years later, Arthur regrets his decision and wants to try to win Merlin and their daughter back. Gwaine, Merlin's overprotective best friend isn't keen on the idea. [ Prompt Here]
This was my prompt. Hope you guys like it. Draws on Sins of the Father.
***
"Will you meet me please Lynn?"
"I-i- Why?" There was an iciness to her voice.
"We should talk."
"What is there to talk about? Just keep sending the money that's all we want from you."
Arthur heard silence that could only mean Merlyn had hung up the phone. He called again, but was not surprised to get her voice mail. He pushed away from his desk and walked to the window remembering the shock he'd gotten the other day. Business had brought him to Chicago, but he had known Merlynn lived here. That was where the checks went, a thousand dollars a month and then 2000.00 for Christmas and Gwydre's birthday. From time-to-time a private eye checked in on them, made certain all was well, but that had been the extent of his contact with Merlyn and his son for four years, until yesterday.
Waves of black hair, blue eyes, soft and shapely arms pushing a laughing dark-haired boy on the swings. Her smile bright and gleaming, blue eyes lit with laughter. His heart ached at the memory.
Katy Perry's "Hot and Cold" rang from his cell phone and he picked up.
"Morgana."
"The one and only, little brother."
He could hear here smile.
"What's up?" He held the phone between his shoulder and ear for a moment and hit the send button on an email.
"I should probably ask you that. Did you talk to her?"
"She won't answer."
"I can't say that I blame her."
"I know. I just wish I could make her understand about how messed up I was in those days."
Morgana was silent for a moment.
"Go to her."
"I've tried once or twice over the past couple years, but-"
"-But you chicken out."
"I'm just like dad."
There was a long pregnant pause.
"You are like him in many ways, but you're your own man and you're also your mother's son. You don't have to make the mistakes that our father made and you also don't have to be prisoner to the things you've done in the past."
Arthur ran a hand through his blonde hair.
"I should go. Thank you."
"Think about what I said."
"I will." He pushed the end button and placed his phone on the desk. Arthur let his eyes travel over the golden-wood paneling of his office.
"It's your fault my mother's dead!" Arthur shouted it finally. "You cheated on her, you pushed her even though depression ran in the family and she killed herself. It's your fault and I hope you burn in hell."
"Arthur-"
He threw off his father's hand.
"Don't touch me," he glared at the older man, "don't speak to me ever again."Arthur snatched up his blazer and stormed out the door without a backwards glance.
He needed a drink. The young executive strode out of his office.
"I'm leaving for the day Jane," was all he said to his secretary.
"Yes sir Mr.Penn."
***
"Whiskey- double," he told the bartender and waited -hands steepled- for his drink.
He could still recall the sweet combination of whiskey, mint and salt on her soft pink lips, the warmth and softness of her in his arms, the sandalwood scent that she'd used against her skin. Her voice usually ready with a clever quip or words of encouragement husky and sighing with pleasure. He'd been unfair to her his onetime best friend.
I can't be a father. I know nothing of fathers or husbands. I know of Uncles that come and go like the breeze, of Uncles that steal, hit, creep into your bedroom at night while your mother is passed out on the couch to wake the next morning stinking of vodka. What do I know of fathers? They appear suddenly as if from nowhere full apologies and trust funds, and empty promises. But he didn't say all of that.
"Are you sure it's mine? Have you thought about an abortion?"
Arthur downed his double, wondered what kind of Uncles Gwydre had and ordered another.
***
"Arthur called you?" Gwaine seemed to take up half the space in Merlyn's tiny kitchen
"Three times, today." She handed Gwaine a cider and sat down.
"Do you know what he wants?" The larger man leaned forward before taking a sip of his beer.
"Don't know, don't care."
"Aren't you even curious?"
"No. Why should I be Gwaine? I practically begged him to be there for us and he refused. So now I refuse."
Gwaine was silent.
***
He could easily afford a cab but old habits die hard. He paid his fare and took the first open seat his eyes landed on. He didn't see the couple canoodling in a double seat, or the pretty girl check him out, the old woman giving him a disdainful sniff or sticky mess on the floor. Instead he saw into his past.
He stood in front of a three flat gray stone building on the south side of Chicago, sad little Christmas light blinking in one of the windows and Merlyn dancing with someone dressed up as Santa. Santa pulled down his fluffy white beard and kissed Merlyn with a great deal of passion, her pale arms wrapped round the stranger's neck and the pair disappeared from view.
Arthur told himself that none of that mattered. He'd seen his son and needed to know his son with a longing that made his heartache. What was or was not between he and Merlyn was unimportant. He would not be defeated. He pulled the cord to buzz the driver for his stop. The walk to her house was only a short half a block. He stood in front the gray stone waiting for someone to open the door. When a woman with groceries approached he caught the door for her and slipped inside. Once inside he hurried up the stairs and knocked. He would see Merlyn and they would talk and he would win his way back into their lives no matter what.
End.