Glow of a Rose (2/6)
Part 1
Merlin looked down at the Golden Retriever puppy that was beside itself because someone was standing in front of its cage. In some ways, it reminded Merlin of Arthur -of how he had behaved around Guinevere in the early days, for example - but despite that he had actually asked for a Retriever or a Labrador, he wasn’t sure a puppy would be a good idea for someone who lived on the streets, not even for a few days; Merlin would -somehow- make certain that Arthur would be off the streets soon. The guy from the shelter, who was just as excited as the puppy since Merlin had shown him the papers that proved he owned a house with an actual garden, asked eagerly, “What do you think?”
“Well, to be honest, I’m not sure I want a puppy. I was looking for a dog that…” He got interrupted by a shriek, and then a little girl literally bounced off the cage, crying, “Mommy, Mommy, this one, this one!”
The puppy obviously agreed with her because it immediately lost any interest in Merlin and showed how real excitement looked. It was almost doing summersaults. A distressed looking woman, Mommy most probably, arrived beside her daughter and said, “Lynn, I’m not sure if it’s available.” She threw a worried glance at Merlin. The guy from the shelter, Ricky -Animal Care Team stated the tag on his shirt, Ricky wasn’t impressed by her pleading look, though. “I’m very sorry, but Mr. Emerson here…”
“No, no,” Merlin interrupted quickly before tears could appear in the girl’s eyes. “I’m really not looking for a puppy. It’s all yours, and it seems it already knows it.” He smiled down at the girl -not that she was looking at him, but her mother threw him a thankful glance- then he turned around to Ricky. “Maybe you handle them for now, and I look around a bit?”
“Mr. Emerson, it’s the only Golden Retriever we have right now.”
“So you’ve said.” The guy with his docile voice annoyed Merlin to no end. He was very sure that Ricky wouldn’t remember Merlin’s chosen surname if he was wearing ratty sneakers and an old jacket. Clenching his teeth, Merlin continued. “I will take a look at the other dogs now. On my own. I will call for you if I find myself another one.” With that, he turned around and left quickly toward one of the cage tunnels.
Merlin sighed and rubbed his forehead; all the barking and woofing had given him a headache. He was really, really a cat person; cats were quiet, independent, graceful creatures. Dogs were… loud. And they drooled a lot. By now, he doubted he would find a fitting dog for Arthur; there were only about three cages left and as far as he could see, there weren’t any dogs in them. He almost turned around to leave, when he saw something dark moving in the cage furthest from him. Dark and… huge. Merlin blinked a few times. This couldn’t be a dog; it had to be a pony. Intrigued, he slowly closed the distance between him and the most sordid cage he had seen so far, only to come to a halt a few steps away and stare at the biggest, blackest, most pathetic looking dog he had ever come across in his whole life. It was a Great Dane, but still… it was too big even for that breed. When Merlin’s glance fell on the huge paws, he had the uncanny feeling that this dog wasn’t even fully-grown yet, as unbelievable as it seemed to be. Merlin stepped a little bit closer to the bars, and the beast inside slowly raised its head to look at him. It didn’t wag or bark, nor did it move forward. It just stood in the middle of its not too clean cage and stared at Merlin out of sad eyes.
“Hey you,” Merlin said silently. “What’s your name, hm?”
“His name’s Prince,” a voice answered behind him, and Merlin needed all of his willpower to not jump out of his skin. He hated, hated, hated it if someone managed to sneak up on him. He turned around slowly to… Ricky, of course, and all of a sudden he caught up with what the guy had just said. “Prince?” he asked, then bit on his lips to stop the laughter rising in his throat. Prince. Very funny, Fates.
Ricky nodded gravely. “This isn’t the right dog for you, Mr. Emerson.”
Somehow, Merlin kept a thin smile on his face. 500 years ago, he would have cursed the idiot, but he had gotten over this phase. “What’s his story?”
Ricky shrugged. “About three months ago, the police found him chained to a guardrail beside a highway. He probably became a little too big for his owners.”
“Do you have any idea how old he is?”
“Not really, but… he isn’t fully grown yet, so maybe… about a year?” Ricky looked -again- severely at Merlin, his whole demeanor saying, Let’s move on to find you a nice dog, okay? Merlin’s smile got broader. “He doesn’t bite, does he?”
Finally it seemed to dawn on Ricky that there might be a chance to get this monster dog out of the shelter. He shook his head quickly. “No, no he doesn’t bite at all! It’s just that… that…”
Merlin raised an eyebrow. “What?”
“He… since we don’t know what happened to him before he was found… well, he doesn’t seem to… like people. As I said, he doesn’t bite, he doesn’t even growl or bark but… he just doesn’t connect with humans.”
“Hm.”
“And he isn’t neutered yet.”
Merlin glanced at the dog. “I can see that.” Lowering his eyes, he thought, This is insane. But hell, I want to see Arthur’s face when I show him that dog. And if he doesn’t like him… ah fuck it! Merlin realized that he already liked the dog. “Well, maybe you could unlock the door so I can go in and see if he connects with me?”
After Ricky had opened the cage, Merlin entered slowly. It was one thing to hear that Prince didn’t bite, it was another thing to test if it’s true, especially when he heard the clang of the cage door getting locked behind him again. Watching Prince nervously, he took a deep breath. Normally, Merlin would have crouched down to not spook the dog, but in this case Prince would be actually towering over him, so Merlin just stepped closer and raised his hand slowly, as he had done once with a unicorn. “Hey,” he said again, quietly.
Prince looked at him a bit suspiciously but he stretched his head in Merlin’s direction. Merlin took another step toward the dog, and swore to himself that if Ricky opened his mouth now, he would hex him after all. Prince looked at him for another moment, then he suddenly whimpered and came forward, tail between his legs but… it was wagging a bit. Merlin let him snuffle his hand for a while and then, feeling quite daring, he started to pet the silky black fur that covered Prince’s head. Gods, he thought, that head is as big as a calf’s would be.
“Wow,” Ricky’s voice floated over to Merlin, “I’ve never seen him do that.”
“Yes, well, he seems to…” Merlin broke off. Prince had apparently decided that he liked Merlin a lot and jumped upwards. Merlin, startled, straightened up, too, only to find out that -when Prince settled his front paws onto Merlin’s shoulders- the dog was exactly as tall as Merlin… maybe even a bit taller. Swallowing, he continued. “He seems to connect with me just fine.”
Some… long time later, Merlin parked his BMW X3 -and right now, he was really glad he had decided to buy this huge car and not the tiny sport coupé he had fancied at first- and rested his head on the wheel, closing his eyes for a moment. Then he squinted at the clock on the dashboard. Five hours. Five fucking hours. Out of the corner of his eyes he could see the stack of papers on the passenger seat and he wondered why anyone ever would think it was a good idea to get a dog. Then he remembered all the stuff in the trunk and closed his eyes again. He wasn’t sure yet what to do with it; after all, he couldn’t just dump all of it on Arthur’s sleeping bag. After banging his head on the wheel twice, Merlin sat up and turned around to look at the black monster lying on the backseat. “Was it as much fun for you as it was for me?”
Prince huffed silently, and Merlin nodded. “Yeah, I wouldn’t have liked that needle either. But hey, blame the vet, not me.” Prince huffed again. “So… you want to meet your new master? Because, sorry, that’s not me.” Prince looked at him and Merlin nodded again. “I know. I’ve lost it. I’m talking to a dog. It’s possible I’m procrastinating.” Merlin had really looked forward to seeing Arthur’s face while he had still been at the pet shelter. But now, hours later, hours filled with waiting in quite a few township corridors, he was tired. The visit at the vet and the shopping spree he had to do afterwards hadn’t helped either. Neither did the thought that he had -maybe- done something really stupid. Arthur might like to have a dog, but Prince wasn’t exactly an average dog. It could very well be that Merlin would go home with a Great Dane this night, and spend the next years with the dog and not with Arthur.
Merlin sighed. There was nothing to do about it anymore, so he should just get it over with. He stepped out of the car and opened the back door to let Prince out as well, fastening the very, very expensive leather leash on the very, very expensive collar. “I’m sure you will like him,” he said while leading the dog towards the corner of the street, “let’s just hope he will like you, too.”
“Wait… you did… what?”
Merlin was satisfied; finally it was his turn to smirk. “Someone told me you’d like a dog. There.” It was actually more than satisfying, Merlin decided. The expression on Arthur’s face when he saw Prince had been priceless; Merlin wished he had thought about bringing a cam. Though Arthur hadn’t said, “Thank you!” yet, there was clearly no reason to worry anymore. Arthur might be beyond being astonished, but he was also absolutely delighted, as was Prince. The way these two had pounced on each other, even before Merlin had mentioned that the dog was now Arthur’s, reminded Merlin a bit of the puppy and the little girl at the shelter. He was tempted to tell Arthur about them.
“But… I can’t.” Face falling, Arthur looked up at him. How he managed to move at all was beyond Merlin, Prince was sitting on top of Arthur.
“Sure you can. Officially, he’ll be my dog, but no worries. I have no intention at all to take him away from you again.” Merlin saw doubt creep into Arthur’s eyes, and he hastily continued. “If a cop or another official asks you about him, just tell them you look after him for me.” Merlin pulled his wallet out of his pocket and held up a hand before Arthur could utter one word. “Relax. No money.” He got out one of his cards and handed it to Arthur. “If something happens, call me, no matter what time.”
“But how…”
Merlin rummaged in his bag for a moment, then drew out a box and threw it on Arthur’s blanket. “Here.”
Arthur looked at the box, then up at Merlin again. “This… I can’t…”
“It’s a cheap prepaid cell! Of course you can!”
Arthur took the box and lowered his head; Merlin could see the tips of his ears becoming pink. Sadly, it was not the only thing he could see. In all the excitement over Prince, he hadn’t noticed until now how terrible Arthur looked. He was pale with dark circles under his eyes, and the hands that were still holding the cell phone box were shaking. Merlin took a deep breath. He knew he had pushed Arthur farther than he had thought possible with the dog, the card and the cell. If he now started on Arthur about his health, it was a good bet Arthur would shove back, hard, and Merlin would lose any progress he had made this day. And still…
“Hey… you don’t look so good. Everything okay?” he asked, knowing very well that nothing was okay right now.
Arthur’s head whipped up again, eyes narrowed. “I’m fine! I… I think I caught a cold or something.”
“Or something.”
Face turning an alarmingly shade of red, Arthur snapped, “Listen, Emerson, this is no concern…”
Merlin held up both hands. “I know. No concern of mine. As you wish. Smith.”
For a moment there was silence, then Arthur murmured, “Thank you. For… what’s his name?”
“Prince.”
Arthur swallowed, opened his mouth, and then obviously choked on his own spit and started coughing so badly, Merlin almost believed in the so called cold. After a few more coughs and splutters, Arthur managed to get out, “Prince?” while wiping away tears.
“Indeed. But I’m sure you can still choose another name, he’s very young, not even a year. Oh, he isn’t fully-grown yet, either.”
Not seeming to be bothered at all by the thought of Prince becoming even bigger, Arthur muttered under his breath, “Prince. Jesus.” He stroked over the dog’s head and then he smiled. “You don’t look like a prince, you almost look like…” the rest was said so quietly Merlin wasn’t sure if he understood rightly. But if he had understood correctly, that would mean…
“What did you just say?”
“Hm?”
“Did you just say he looks like Broch?”
“Broch? What’s that?”
It’s what you called your goddamn black war stallion, murderous beast that it had been! Merlin thought. Out loud he said, “I think it’s Gaelic and it means Anger.”
“You know Gaelic?” Arthur smiled in a very weird way. “But no, I said he looks like a horse.” He continued to smile.
Heart in his throat, Merlin asked, “Arthur?”
Arthur looked down at Prince again. “You think I should call him Arthur? No way.” When he glanced up again, the weird expression was gone, replaced by something close to fear. “Anyway, thank you. He’s awesome, really.”
Merlin tried to relax his posture; he was deeply suspicious now, but he knew he had to try and not let it show. But hell… if Arthur actually remembered him, then why the fuck didn’t he say something? He took another deep breath, deciding to let it go for now, somehow. Arthur was in trouble, badly so, and whatever was happening beneath the surface, it had to wait. “You’re welcome. Now, how about you show off your monster to Mrs. Saratori, have a tea, I drink a coffee… God, I need a coffee, believe me… and afterwards you accompany me to my car to get the dog food?”
Arthur looked completely confused again, and Merlin was fine with that. “Dog food?”
“You’ll see. Come on, I need that coffee.”
“ARTHUR!”
Awake due to his own shout, Merlin sat up in his bed, breathing heavily. After looking around wildly for a few moments, he finally came to completely and buried his face in his hands, trying to shake off this damned dream. Same fucking nightmare, he thought, rubbing his hands over his face. Why does it have to come back now?
Sighing, he pushed the bedspread away, got up and traipsed downstairs to the kitchen without bothering to turn on the lights. He pulled a bottle of mineral water out of the fridge and leaned back at the kitchen counter, drinking it right out of the bottle while still trying to get his breathing under control.
But as hard as he tried, he couldn’t get one image out of his head; Mordred raising the sword and Arthur going down in a spray of blood. Merlin knew of course why the dream had returned with such a vengeance these last nights. He combed through his hair with his fingers and told himself to stay where he was. It made no sense at all to spend every goddamn night standing guard over Arthur. He knew he could trust his own spells, for Gods’ sake. And still, he was anxious, unsettled; his instincts were screaming at him to be close to Arthur, while his brain ordered him to go back to bed. Merlin looked at the clock -5 a.m.- and then thought about going over to his desktop and writing on his next book, which had been stalling dramatically the last weeks, but then he dismissed it. He would only write nonsense anyway. How the hell should he concentrate on ghouls, when his mind was on Arthur and his slowly blooming withdrawal symptoms?
Merlin finished the water and straightened up, scratching his chest. All right then. He would take a shower -his skin was itching all over thanks to night sweat- and then he would make coffee… and then, he would arrive at Mrs. Saratori’s café just a bit earlier than usual. Merlin hung his head. He wondered how far he could push her. Usually, she opened up at 10 o ’clock in the morning, and in the last days he had shown up two hours before that. She had just smiled and told him it was relaxing to have him sitting on the sofa, typing away on his laptop. But if he showed up at an even earlier hour… Merlin didn’t even know if she would be there yet. No matter, then he would just sit in his car and wait… and watch Arthur sleep.
Decision made, Merlin switched the coffee maker on and went to the bathroom, ignoring uninvited memories of the past as well as frightening whispers about the future.
Suppressing emotions only goes so far, Merlin thought, staring down at the soaked empty blanket on the street. It was pouring; in fact, Merlin had felt while he was driving through the darkness someone was constantly throwing buckets full of water against the windshield. The wipers had barely managed the amount of rain. Merlin had worried the whole time about Arthur, not able to remember how big or small the roof overhang above Arthur’s sleeping place was. Now he knew; there was little to no protection for anyone sitting or lying here.
Merlin spun around, umbrella in the right hand, and tried to look for Arthur and Prince through the rain and the first hints of dawn. He couldn’t spot them anywhere, so he jogged around the next corner. He knew there was a roofed bus stop nearby but to his disappointment, they weren’t there either. Returning to the lost looking blanket lying on the street, he closed his eyes and reached. For one scary moment, he couldn’t get a grip on Arthur but then he realized he was reaching too far; Arthur was closer than he had thought. Merlin sprinted down the street a few yards and knocked on the locked glass door of the café. Inside, there were only the emergency lights on and Merlin couldn’t see any movement. He gritted his teeth; he knew Arthur was in there, but what he didn’t know was whether Arthur had managed some B&E and locked himself in afterwards, or if Mrs. Saratori was in there, too, somewhere. He was already raising his free hand to unlock the door, when he finally saw her coming toward him. One look at her face crushed any feeling of relief, though.
While Merlin watched her drop the keys not once but twice, he could see she was beside herself with worry. Her usually elegantly upswept blonde hair was in disarray, her white blouse wasn’t tucked into her black pants. When she opened the door at last, she grabbed his arm and practically dragged him inside. “Oh thank God, you’re here! So he did finally call you!”
Merlin threw bag and umbrella on the floor, his Pea Coat following. He almost asked her what she meant by that and stopped at the last minute. As long as she thought Arthur had called him, he wouldn’t have to explain why he was here so early this morning.
While he rolled up his sleeves, she continued rambling. “He didn’t want to give me your number! And when I said I would have to call an ambulance, he… he…” She was close to tears now. “I don’t know what to do! Please, you have to help him, he can’t go on like that!”
Merlin nodded and laid one hand hesitantly on her shoulder. For some reason, Merlin always felt strange when he touched her, even if he was just shaking her hand or brushing her fingers while taking a coffee from her. Granted, he had never been someone who liked to touch or be touched, but with Mrs. Saratori, it wasn’t about that. The longer he knew her, the more he felt some kind of aura around her, something almost… sacred. It was pathetic how much he wanted her to like him, for example, and how glad he was that she seemed to do so; he had no idea why she moved him in that way.
Finally realizing that Mrs. Saratori was staring at him, obviously waiting for some answer or him taking action, he rallied. Whatever was going on with him and her, it wasn’t something to be solved here and now. “Where is he? In the men’s room?” When she nodded, he said, “Stay here. I’ll see what I can do for him.”
He left her standing in the middle of the room, still wringing her hands, and raced the few steps downstairs to the toilets. He hadn’t even reached the door when he heard the sound of someone throwing up violently. The first thing he saw when he entered the white-tiled room was Prince who sat on his hind legs, looking anxiously at the toilet stall in front of him and then at Merlin. The whole room reeked of vomit and sweat. Merlin went over and knocked on the door.
“Ar…” He broke off immediately. Gods, can you maybe concentrate a bit? “John? Please open the door.” Merlin heard the sound of flushing, then Arthur coughing. Finally, “Go away.”
“I will most certainly not. Open up!”
“No.”
Merlin sighed. “Look… Open the damn door or I’ll call the cops and make them break it down!” Already cringing because of the threat, Merlin waited. After a few seconds of silence, the lock and door was opened by an extremely pale and at the same time pissed looking Arthur, who sat on the -thankfully clean- floor beside the toilet. Merlin tried to assess his constitution quickly; Arthur was sweating heavily, hands and legs were trembling, and the dark circles around his eyes made him look like a raccoon. When he looked into Arthur’s eyes though, Merlin flinched hard. There was a deep resentment there, close to hate, directed at him.
“Now what?” Arthur spat out, clearly struggling with his gag reflex.
Merlin crouched down and tried to appear as nonthreatening as possible. He knew that a cornered Arthur -and he was, literally and metaphorically speaking- was dangerous. “Look. I know it’s none of my business…”
“There you’re right!”
“… but you can’t do that here. You…”
“Do what? I have the flu!”
Merlin just continued to look at him until Arthur finally averted his eyes. And although Merlin had really wanted to win this staring-down fight, his heart still hurt for Arthur. As young as he was, it was perfectly clear that this Arthur shared one of the biggest character traits of the long dead King of Camelot… he was beyond being proud. It had to be killing him to be seen like that. And still… once Merlin had been the only one allowed to see the King when he was just a burdened man. He wanted that back, he wanted to be trusted again, more than anything else. You know the way. Honesty. He had always hated it if someone had lied to him. So be honest, as honest as you can be right now. “You don’t have the flu. You show every symptom of being in withdrawal. And you can’t do a detox here in this stall, let alone on the street. So let me help you.”
For a moment, Merlin thought he got through to him. Arthur hesitated; but then, with a sinking heart, Merlin saw blood rushing to his face.
“I don’t need you! I don’t want your help, not now! Where have you been when…” Arthur broke off, his eyes widening, and then he bent forward quickly and started retching again, mostly dry heaving. Merlin grimaced and laid a hand on Arthur’s forehead to help him keep his head out of the toilet. The skin under his palm was clammy and far too hot. Merlin bit hard on his lips; there was no way around it, Arthur belonged in a hospital. He couldn’t stay here or on the street, and Merlin wasn’t sure if he could help him through a detoxication at his home without endangering him. He waited until Arthur was through with throwing up, then he petted Arthur’s back slowly while Arthur leaned his forehead on the toilet seat, moaning quietly. “Try to relax, I’ll fetch you some water.”
Arthur nodded, and Merlin got up and out, jogging upstairs and trying to suppress the feeling that he was about to betray Arthur’s barely given trust.
After he had gotten a bottle of still mineral water and had told the scared woman upstairs to call an ambulance, Merlin returned to Arthur, only to find him in the same position he had been in when Merlin had left. The only thing changed was that now a Great Dane somehow had squeezed into the stall as well, licking Arthur’s neck and hair.
“Hey, Prince. Come on, get out of here.”
The huge black dog looked once again at Merlin out of upset eyes, licked a few more times over his master’s face and then finally trotted out of the stall, tail between his legs. Merlin knew exactly how Prince was feeling; if he had a tail, he would tuck it in, too.
“Hey,” he said quietly. “Here’s the water.”
Arthur opened his eyes, blinked a few times and finally reached out for the bottle. He seemed so out of it in that moment that Merlin’s worries increased tenfold. Arthur didn’t seem to mind his face was literally drenched in dog’s spit, or maybe he hadn’t even noticed Prince licking him all over. When Arthur took his first swallow of water, Merlin turned around and got a bunch of paper towels, wetted a few and returned into the stall. “Here.”
Arthur just looked at him inquiringly. Swallowing hard, Merlin leaned down and gently wiped over Arthur’s face, neck and hair; then he dried it just as gently with the rest of the towels. Arthur let it happen; he continued to gaze at Merlin out of big blue eyes, looking incredibly young. He was also very, very close to Merlin all of a sudden. Merlin swallowed again; he told himself that he was only imagining things, imagining that he knew that look, that he had seen exactly this look on Arthur in a hundred different situations, on battlefields, in Camelot’s laboratory, in the King’s chambers… whenever he had taken care of Arthur before.
He suddenly noticed that the towels had fallen onto the floor and he was still petting and combing through the matted blond hair; he couldn’t stop but Arthur didn’t seem to mind. To the contrary, Arthur had closed his eyes and was leaning into the touch. Helplessly, Merlin opened his mouth, the wrong -or better, the right- name hovering dangerously close on the tip of his tongue, when there was a knock on the door.
Arthur startled and shrunk back as if he had been slapped, and Merlin was up and at the door in a second, opening it a bit and instinctively blocking Arthur from anyone’s view. “What?” he hissed at Mrs. Saratori, for once not caring about behaving politely, let alone friendly. When Merlin met her surprised stare, he blinked a few times, cursing inwardly. He was sure his eyes weren’t blue anymore; another thing that hadn’t happened to him in decades. Mrs. Saratori blinked, too, and whatever she might have seen, she didn’t comment on it.
“There is a problem,” she whispered.
Merlin entered the dark hall and closed the door to the men’s room behind him. “What’s wrong?”
“The paramedics are here. But they want to know if Johnny has any insurance.”
“But of course.” Merlin pinched the bridge of his nose. “Please tell them I will cover any costs, cash in advance, if there’s the need for it. Just get them down here, please?”
She nodded and went back upstairs, and Merlin hesitated a few seconds before entering the men’s room again. Arthur’s eyes had become huge, but he relaxed visibly when he saw only Merlin coming in. Merlin, on the other hand, tensed all over. He was suddenly sure he had made a big mistake by letting Mrs. Saratori call the ambulance… but what the hell was the alternative?
“Hello? Someone in there?”
Merlin looked up, startled, and realized Arthur had been talking to him for some time, apparently, given the irritated expression on the other man’s face. “I’m sorry?”
“I’ve asked, if something’s wrong? What’s going on?”
“No. No, nothing’s wrong. It’s just that…” Merlin didn’t know how to go on. It turned out he didn’t have to. The door banged open, two bear-like paramedics came in, and all hell broke loose.
Great idea, Merlin thought bitterly while he cradled Arthur’s head in his lap. I couldn’t have fucked up things with him more if I’ve tried. It’s over.
“Here, take this,” Mrs. Saratori said, offering another wet towel. “I have a first aid kit in the kitchen… do you think you’ll need it?”
Taking the towel from her, Merlin shook his head without looking up. He knew she was still shocked by what had happened in the last minutes, but he didn’t want to see shock turning into something else when she remembered who had told her to call these bastards. But…
“Well, maybe I will need it anyway,” he said. “Is there an icepack in it?” When she didn’t answer, Merlin reluctantly looked up from Arthur’s slack face and concentrated on a spot above her left shoulder.
“This wasn’t your fault, sweetheart. In fact, you’ve stopped it. If you hadn’t been here…”
“If I hadn’t been here, none of this would have happened.”
“You’re wrong. Hey,” She laid a hand on his shoulder, and Merlin finally looked at her face. There was no anger in her blue eyes, only a touch of sadness and lots of sympathy. “I would have called them, too. I would have told them I’d pay for his treatment. And then? I wouldn’t have been able to stop them.”
“I don’t know,” Merlin said softly. “Anyone who can restrain the Hound of the Baskervilles has to be able to kick some asses, too.”
Her smile deepened a bit. “He really wanted a bite out of the guy with the Taser, didn’t he?”
“So did I,” Merlin granted, barely managing to not let his eyes change color again. Not that she seemed to have noticed it before, and neither had the bastard who had zapped Arthur into unconsciousness… right before the Taser had had a bad malfunction and zapped the asshole right back.
“Looked like you did,” she answered, and now there was a definite smile in her voice. She patted Merlin’s shoulder once more and then straightened up. “I doubt there is a cold pack in the kit but I’m sure I’ll find something useful in the freezer.”
“Mrs. Saratori?” Merlin called out. Already at the door, she turned around to him. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, sweetheart. And please, drop the ‘Mrs. Saratori’.”
Merlin felt immensely grateful. “Thank you again. It’s Linda, isn’t it?”
She hesitated for a moment. “Actually, it’s Sieglinda… but Linda is perfectly fine.”
Eyes narrowing, Merlin felt a shiver running down his spine. Sieglinda? Wasn’t Sieglinda the name of…?
“What’s your name? ‘Sweetheart’ must get old for you by now.”
“Um… no, it’s not getting old at all. I don’t think anyone has ever called me ‘Sweetheart’ before. Anyway, my name is…” Merlin paused for a moment, oddly reluctant to even tell her his alias. It’s official, I’m losing it. I’m starting to see ghosts everywhere. “My name is John, John Emerson.”
Linda nodded and smiled slightly. “So it’s John then. Another ‘John’.”
“Yes. And the moment he wakes up again,” Merlin looked down at Arthur, “I will try to convince him to call the dog ‘John’, too.”
“You do that.” Linda turned to leave and threw one last line over her shoulder. “By the way, my second forename is Johanna.”
Merlin waited until he couldn’t hear Linda’s footsteps on the stairs anymore and then concentrated on Arthur. Letting his fingers comb through the blond hair, he winced when he felt the big bump on the back of Arthur’s head, the exact place where it had hit the tile wall when Arthur went down thanks to that Taser attack. Merlin closed his eyes, and a second later the bump had vanished. Then he tried to get a feeling for Arthur’s general state. He knew by the absence of warning signals from the protection spell that Arthur wasn’t in a critical condition yet, but still… what he learned from a quick superficial magical examination was unsettling. Although Arthur was unconscious, his stomach was still cramping and close to vomiting again -a fact that brought even more disturbing images to Merlin’s mind-, his whole body was hurting and on top of that, Merlin felt the beginning of a monster migraine developing in Arthur’s thankfully non-concussed brain. And underneath it all, there was this weird feeling of craving, skittering around in Arthur’s body and mind, elusive like a wet bar of soap to Merlin’s attempts of gripping it.
Letting his left hand rest on Arthur’s chest, Merlin opened his eyes again and stared unseeingly at the white tiles in front of him. He thought hard about what he could do for Arthur and what he should do… and of all the things he wasn’t able to do to help him. Mind made up, he concentrated again and let healing magic flow over Arthur; while Merlin’s hand slid over Arthur’s body, the stomach settled and the hurt left limbs and spine. Merlin ignored the tiny voice in his head that told him nothing he was doing would be good for longer than a few hours; instead, he put his energy into removing the pain from Arthur’s head. He let his thumbs circle Arthur’s eyes repeatedly, and finally stroked the eyebrows with his fingertips, over and over again.
When Merlin felt the tickling sensation of eyelashes brushing against his fingers, he froze all over. He wasn’t ready yet to face Arthur.
“What are you doing?”
“Reiki,” Merlin deadpanned and then promptly bit on his lips to prevent the hysterical laughter he felt rising within coming out. He was pretty sure he would get punched in the face in no time, but there was no need to provoke an even fiercer punch.
“I’m sorry?”
“Reiki,” Merlin repeated. “It’s a Japanese healing technique, also known as palm healing.” Wondering if he sounded as insane as he felt, Merlin risked a quick downward glance. Arthur, whose head was still lying in Merlin’s lap, stared up at him, looking totally baffled. “Did it help?” Merlin asked.
“What?”
Worried now, Merlin leaned a bit closer. “Do you know who I am?” The words had barely left his mouth when he thought, Isn’t that the question of the century?
Arthur blinked twice, and then nodded. “Yeah, I do know who you are. What I don’t know is what has happened.”
“What do you remember?”
Making no move to sit up or throw a punch, Arthur licked his lips. “I guess… someone called an ambulance?”
Merlin winced. “Yes. That was my idea. One of my better ones, obviously.”
“Where are they?”
“Um. Well, one of them had a mishap. I think his partner is now bringing him to a hospital.”
“A mishap?”
“You remember the Taser?” When Merlin saw fear crossing Arthur’s features, he quickly continued. “Whatever it did to you, believe me, it hit him harder than you. At least, he flew further backwards than you did. Did some damage to the interior.” Merlin pointed outside the stall to the smashed mirror and sink.
“Wow.” Arthur sat up to take a better look, and then groaned quietly.
Merlin automatically reached out and steadied him. “Take it easy, man. You’re now in a worse shape than you were in before these assholes arrived.” Inwardly, he was still waiting for Arthur to lose it and yell at him, but so far, Arthur only seemed to be bemused by what had happened. Just wait, he thought, this will change the moment he comes out of the stupor he’s in.
“Funny that. I certainly feel better than before.” Arthur threw him a look. “Reiki, huh?”
Merlin’s scalp… contracted. There was no other word for it; it was the weirdest feeling ever. Because there was that look again, the look Merlin remembered. The I-don’t-know-if-I-should-throw-something-at-you-or-simply-fall-down-laughing look.
“What?” the exhausted question came.
Merlin shook his head. “Nothing. I’m just waiting for you to explode or something like that.”
Arthur looked at him for a while longer, then sighed and rubbed one hand over his face. “Nah. I’m not happy about it, but I know why you called them. Would have done the same, I guess. And I am feeling better. So whatever you did, thanks.”
With Merlin’s help, Arthur climbed to his feet only to sit down again on the toilet with another groan. “Shit, I’m dizzy as hell.”
“Probably from the jolt with the Taser. And you definitely should eat something, and…” Merlin broke off at the hoarse laugh coming from Arthur.
“Believe me, eating is not on my to-do-list right now.”
“I hear you. But then at least drink some juice… and you’re running a fever, so some Tylenol would be great, easier on the stomach than Aspirin. I have some in my bag up in the…”
“I have Tylenol.” Arthur hung his head for a moment, then looked up at Merlin with a pleading expression in his eyes. Merlin crouched down immediately, laying his hands on Arthur’s knees. “What is it?”
Arthur continued to look at him for a few more seconds, opened his mouth and shut it at once again. Merlin could see a faint blush creeping up Arthur’s neck, and suddenly he knew what Arthur wanted. Trying to swallow around the lump in his throat, Merlin said quietly, “I won’t give you any of the stuff you’re on.”
Arthur averted his eyes and nodded jerkily. “I know you won’t.”
“Hey. I know you don’t want to go to a hospital and now I totally understand why not. But… please, let me help you? Come home with me?” Merlin saw Arthur already shaking his head and gabbled on. “Aw come on, why not? It’s raining cats and dogs outside, you can’t go on the street with the fever you’re running! I can help you! Look, I know you don’t really know me but I promise you, I won’t hurt you. I just want to…” Merlin tapered off when Arthur looked back at him, open desperation in his eyes. What is that? That isn’t pride… what? “What is it?”
“You don’t know me.”
Ah, Gods!
“I know enough to…”
“No! I’m not… I’m not… I’m ill.”
“I know! That’s why you should come home with me.”
“No, you don’t understand. I’m not…”
“What?”
“I’m not… sane.” Arthur stated it so desperately that Merlin didn’t even understand him at first; he only reacted to the emotion in Arthur’s voice. Leaning forward, his hands slid upward from Arthur’s knees to his arms, drawing him into a hug. For a glorious moment, Merlin felt Arthur hugging him back fiercely, and then Merlin’s brain caught up with what Arthur had said. Pulling his head back a bit to get a look at him, he asked, “What do you mean, ‘not sane’?”
Arthur tensed and leaned back so quickly, breaking the embrace, that Merlin had to grab Arthur’s arms again to not fall backwards on his ass. Standing up and making Merlin straighten up, too, in the process, Arthur shook off Merlin’s hands as if they were on fire. “What do you think it means? I’m crazy, insane, psychotic, take your choice!” He tried to get past Merlin, but Merlin stood right in front of him, not giving an inch.
“Dammit, you’re not crazy, you’re on…”
“I know fucking well what I’m on! And you know what, genius? There’s a reason why I’m on it! Believe me, you don’t want me in your house, and I don’t want to be there either! So, get out of my way and…” Arthur broke off, looking scared again. “Where’s Prince?”
“He’s in the ladies’ room and not liking it. Listen…”
“Do not take him away from me!”
Merlin’s head began to pound; it was his ‘Arthur-Headache’, not felt for a very long time but nevertheless recognized immediately. “I won’t take that fucking dog away from you; I’ve already promised you that!” Taking a deep breath, Merlin lowered his voice somewhat. “Look, you need help!” Merlin shoved away the ‘There’s a reason why I’m on it’ and ‘I’m crazy, insane, psychotic’ for later consideration. He’d gotten a first inkling about what was wrong with Arthur, but if he allowed himself to think about it now, he would bash his own head against the tiles for quite some time for not realizing it earlier. And right now, he had to win this fight with Arthur, nothing else mattered.
“If you don’t want to come with me, then at least let me ask Mrs. Saratori; I can help her with…”
“NO!”
Arthur’s yell hadn’t trailed off yet when the bathroom door opened and Linda came in. “It stopped raining,” she said quietly, addressing both of them. Then, turning to Arthur, she continued. “You could sleep a few hours on the couch in my office, rest a bit. When you wake up, I will make you some toast and tea and we all will take it from there. What do you say?”
Looking more exhausted than ever, Arthur leaned against the stall wall and finally nodded. “That sounds like heaven. Thank you so much, Mrs.…”
“Linda.”
“… Linda.”
Merlin watched her leading Arthur out of the bathroom and up the stairs, then he closed his eyes for a moment. Although he was glad that Linda was allowed to take care of Arthur, it still hurt as hell to see how quickly and easily Arthur had given in to her.
At last, he straightened up to get Prince out of the other bathroom; Merlin was sure that by now, the dog would need a walk and something to eat as well.
Fortunately, Prince didn’t mind Merlin’s company at all.
Part 3