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Another spread sheet opened up on Arthur’s computer, he took a long sigh, a fortifying sip of coffee and ploughed in.
He had barely been analysing the data for five minutes when his mobile started vibrating, dancing its way across the wooden surface of his desk.
“Yeah” he answered distractedly, highlighting a cell.
“Papa?”
“Perce?” Arthur frowned. “What has Daddy told you about playing with his phone?”
“Papa…” the small voice through the speaker of his little boy hitched, and Arthur could suddenly hear the uncontrolled sniffling through the line. The computer in front of him lost his attention.
“Perce? Percy what’s wrong?”
“Dad... Daddy’s fallen a-and now he won’t wake up!”
The words took an embarrassing few seconds to permeate through Arthur brain and when they did he was up from his chair in a flash, grabbing at his jacket hung on the back. “What? Percy what happened?”
“I wanted to make you cookies and Daddy was getting the baking trays and there was a big crash and then Daddy was on the floor a-and there was blood and stuff. And now he won’t get up! I- I think … Is Daddy dead?”
“No!” Arthur yelled into the phone throwing his uncooperative jacket in the corner. “No he’s not sweetheart, he’s just resting, just resting,” Please god just be resting, please, please. “You should go sit with Daddy and talk to him, yeah? Tell him all about what you want to do at the weekend. That will wake him up.”
Arthur covered the speaker on his phone as he stormed past Gwen’s desk. “I need you to phone an ambulance to my house – Now!” he hissed. Gwen looked at him wide eyed for a moment, mouth open to ask questions but Arthur gave her a hard stare and something in his face must have broadcasted his need for her not to ask any questions right now and she dived for her phone.
“Papa’s coming home now,” he spoke sweetly into his phone. “I’ll be there soon. And there might be an Ambulance, like you saw at your Summer Fair. They’re gonna come with their bandages and make Daddy better yeah?”
“But Daddy’s not waking up!” Percy wailed. Arthur closed his eyes against the tears ricking in them. He would not do this; there was no need because Merlin would be fine. “He’s not even snoring!”
The distance between Arthur and his boys was just too big and not getting smaller fast enough. His legs broke into a run, bypassing the lift and straight onto the stairs winding down from the fifth floor.
“Tell Daddy about the weekend. Tell him me and you will get up on Saturday and make pancakes for us all!” Arthur panted, jumping the last two steps of the floor and spinning down for the next set.
“Really?” Percy sniffed; Arthur couldn’t help the small smile at the boy’s hopeful tone. “Daddy did you hear that. We’re gon- ---- Beep Beep Beep.”
Arthur paused, as did his descent, and stared at his phone. “Percy!?” he shouted knowing it was useless. As was Merlin. Arthur growled, only narrowly avoiding throwing the phone at the wall. Arthur sprinted now down the last few flights.
When Arthur got home he was giving Merlin the lecture of the lifetime on charging his damn mobile. He would watch every night as the idiot placed it neatly in the damn holder that Arthur had specifically bought for this very reason because the imbecile couldn’t take the two seconds each night to remember to charge his bloody phone!
He skidded through the fire door into the car park, trying to untangle his car keys from his pocket. He was almost there when he looked up to find Morgana leant against the driver’s door, her arms crossed and a drawn expression on her face.
“Morgana move” he growled, as he got to the door and then he remembered that Morgana had been in the office next to his and she had still been sat there when he stormed past Gwen’s desk. “Wait - how did you get down here so fast?”
“I took the lift,” Morgana shrugged. “Give me your keys.”
“No. I don’t have time for this Morgana move!”
“Arthur,” she placed a hand on Arthur’s arm stopping it from reaching the door keyhole. “Arthur look at your hands, they’re shaking. Give me the keys. It would do neither of them any good if you crashed in your panic to get home.”
Arthur didn’t remember answering but either he acquiesced or she knocked him out because next thing he really remembered was the rush, rush, rush of houses and streets whooshing past him as Morgana pushed his Audi to the limits.
He then he was there. Home. With the overgrowing bush in the front garden and Merlin’s ridiculous Eco car, parked slightly skew-whiff on the drive.
He was out of the car before Morgana had fully stopped.
“Papa!”
Arthur spun around in time for his arms to be filled with a heaving mass of a seven year old, the boy’s long legs wrapping around his waist like a vice. Arthur gripped back just as firm.
Over Percy’s blond head he saw the tail end of a stretcher being folded into the back of an Ambulance and a shaggy head of black hair disappearing behind the door.
“Merlin!” Arthur called as the doors slammed shut. “Merlin! Where is he?”
A wiry Paramedic walked up to them halting Arthur’s advance. “We are taking Mr Emrys to hospital. For a head injury with a prolonged lack of consciousness it’s always best.”
“But he’s alright? He’ll be alright.”
“He had regained consciousness before we arrived at the scene. He was a little groggy but knew where he was and who this chap was.” Percy shot the paramedic a tight smile form where he was still clinging like a limpet to his Papa. “He had trouble with the date though.”
Arthur’s laugh erupted past the permanent lump that had resided in his throat since his phone had rung. “Good to see nothing’s changed then.”
The Paramedic gave Arthur a warm smile. “As I said your friend should be fine. We’re just taking him in to make sure.”
“Husband” Arthur corrected, his eyes still fixed on the closed Ambulance door where his husband was.
“Well, your husband is being taken to General. You and your son can follow behind us if you would like”
The Paramedics eyes drifted over to Arthur’s shoulder and Arthur jumped when a small hand landed on his arm. “I’ll take them. You get back to my brother-in-law” Morgana ordered. The Paramedic gave them a small nod before running back to his rig and off they flew.
“Come on.” Morgana urged, steering them back to the car.
Arthur climbed in the back this time. Not even attempting to remove Percy from his hold. Morgana fastened the seatbelt around them both and Arthur let his son ease his trembles in his arms. Or was it the other way around?
When the trio finally made their way through the double doors to the A E, the Ambulance had already got in ahead of them. Morgana made a beeline for the reception desk but a call made Arthur turn his head.
“Arthur!” Gwaine called again, dodging around a pair of young children and their pregnant mother. He was still in his nurses scrubs, his usually wild hair tied neatly away from his ace.
“Uncle Gwaine!” Percy called, running to his godfathers arms. The boy had perked up a bit in the car journey. Apparently having heard Merlin speak and having his other parent close was enough to calm the boy’s nerves.
“Hey Champ!” Gwaine called swinging the boy into the air causing him to yelp with joy.
“Where is he Gwaine?” Arthur didn’t have the energy or the brain power right now to ask any other question.
Percy was passed to Morgana and then Arthur was being led through corridors, up lifts and through doors until he stood before a room, a single bed at its centre.
“The Doc’s checked him out,” Gwaine was whispering as Arthur hung in the doorway absorbing the sight. “He’s got concussion, no doubt about it, but he’ll be fine Arthur.”
The fight had suddenly left him, he nodded dumbly at Gwaine and then the door was closed behind him.
Arthur stepped forward, as if drawn like a magnet towards the bed, and more importantly the figure laying asleep in it.
Merlin’s face was pale, a large bruise purpling down his temple and cheek, the very edge of some butterfly stitches beneath his mop of hair. But his chest rose and fell steadily and strongly. And when Arthur cupped his hand against his sharp cheek Merlin’s head turned, nuzzling into Arthur’s sweaty palm.
Arthur felt warmth surge in his heart and wondered what he would have become: a dark shell of himself, the whole world painted grey and meaningless now that his Merlin was gone.
A cold hand reached out to Arthur’s still one. “Hey” Merlin eye’s cracked open, showing just a slither of their brilliant blue.
Arthur swallowed down his impending tears and forced a smile on his face. “Hey you.”
“We missed you today,” Merlin whispered, bringing their joined hands to his lips. Arthur laughed because he knew this, this exchange they had everyday once their baby was in bed, and the dishes clean and they sat curled on the sofa together.
‘I missed you too’ Arthur would say. But today it clogged in his throat. Because the enormity of what he was feeling, the love and pain in his chest just couldn’t be summed up with words.
He opened his mouth and closed it, desperately trying but all that came out were increasingly ragged breaths.
“Hey shhh,” Merlin soothed, raising an arm to Arthur’s wet cheek. “Did you forget your words?” he asked, a weak version of his cheeky smile on his face.
Arthur’s laugh was more a sob, tears now rolling unrelenting down his cheeks. “I – You- You just can’t leave me Merlin. You-“ he broke off with a sob again, he sagged, like a puppet with its strings cut. His head came down, resting into Merlin’s shoulder. It was an uncomfortable angle, and his back would yell at him for it later, but he just couldn’t hold himself up any longer, all the worry and the tears that he had held back for their son now surged forward so fast he was drowning.
“Hey…” Merlin mumbled, tugging weakly at his sleeve. “Come here.”
Arthur let himself be organised, tucked into Merlin’s side on the hospital bed. His head was resting on Merlin’s chest, it rose and fell with every breath, tangible proof of his life not falling apart and soothing his aching chest.
Arthur immersed himself in this odd embrace, scratchy hospital blanket and the smell of antiseptic and all. It was something that Merlin had taught him to do, after living in a house where outward displays of emotion were frowned upon, Merlin showed him that it was OK to feel, and that sometimes emotions were so huge and peaking that they were too high to jump; you had to wade through them.
He was distantly aware of Merlin’s fingers combing through his hair, and the soothing scratch of his nails against Arthur’s scalp. He felt calmer now; Merlin was here, nothing to life threatening to show for their afternoon, his son was in the waiting room being eternally coddled by his aunt and godfather, and he was here in Merlin’s arms and there was nothing else that mattered.
His mind drifted again to his father, his childhood. He remembered his father’s stern eyes and blank face and wondered…
Arthur gripped tightly to Merlin’s slim waist through the blankets. Uther couldn’t stand for his son to show grief, or sadness, because if he had to carry any more than the back breaking load he himself carried, he would surely crumble.
Arthur felt the inexplicable urge to call his father, something he didn’t do very much and only for specific purposes. But he just wanted to talk to him, see him. Arthur hadn’t lost his Merlin, but his father had lost his.
And Merlin… his gorgeous Merlin… could read him better than any book in creation. He titled his head, lips brushing against Arthur’s temple. “I think we should invite your father for dinner this weekend.”
Arthur barked an unbelievable laugh and pulled back. He studied Merlin’s face, his blue eyes and dark lashes, so as to remember every mark before fluttering a kiss to Merlin’s nose.
“Maybe next weekend.”
This weekend he would spend with Merlin, and their son. Together with no distractions, no sadness. Him and his family. He didn’t need anything else.