nyxelestia | Euphoria, Chapter 02: Dream, Brother

Title: Euphoria

Rating: R

Summary: When with his veins flooded with heroin and suppressing his magic and even when he rides on the chemical bliss, Merlin's magic still sings for Arthur. And Arthur has answered the call. Short little one-shot for now, may expand later.

Pairing: Arthur/Merlin

Warnings: prostitution, drug abuse

Episode warnings: None

Beta: jusmine984

Notes: This was a response to this prompt on kinkme_merlin: Arthur/Merlin, modern!AU. Merlin is a drug addict and Arthur wants to help him to become clean. Except I suck at actual modern!AU, so it's vaguely reincarnation.

Master Post

Beginning

Chapter Notes: Chapter titles comes from the song 'Dream, Brother' by Jeff Buckley.

Listen here

Dream, Brother:

A/N: So, I've got a formula for this fic: 2H + 2AP + 1ROP = @_@

Translation: Two Honors classes, two Advanced Placement classes, one Regional Occupational Program, and one art class (my only normal class out of six!) equals lots and lots of procrastination-born fic.

Zipa-a-dee-doo-da.

Especially considering I've got an English test on The Crucible coming up, and I haven't even properly started reading the damn thing, yet! Aren't I just the model of academic success?

*coffee withdrawal eyes*

Anyway, t'is short, but hopefully, erm...I think sweet is the wrong word...

~*~

Don't be like the one who made me so old
Don't be like the one who left behind his name
'Cause they're waiting for you like I waited for mine
And nobody ever came...

~*~

“Merlin…Merlin…Merlin?”

Merlin blinked awake, then tried to blink his way to clarity at the sight of Arthur before him, in the driver’s seat. Wait, Arthur? How was he-

Oh…Right.

Home, which was now no longer home. Liquid bliss. Drake. Arthur. And falling asleep in a bloody Lexus next to the damn prat.

Oh, bloody hell. “I’m hallucinating again, aren’t I?” Merlin asked, face falling, because this was a very nice hallucination.

“Again?” Arthur asked.

Merlin nodded slowly, leaning his head back against the headrest. “You’re never real.”

“…You’ve hallucinated about me before?” Arthur asked, quietly.

Now Merlin laughed. “Of course I have.” It was why he started getting deeper and deeper into his drugs. “One time…you were in full…Camelot armor…and you threw lightning at me. In the middle of a street, too.”

At that, Arthur looked positively alarmed. “I what?!”

Merlin laughed again, finding the look on Arthur’s face rather funny. “Course it wasn’t you. Passed out, woke up in jail. Lightning was a taser, I think…the p’lice officer looked just like you!”

Aaaand the look on Arthur’s face went from alarm to horror.

“You were tasered?! What for?!”

“Mm-mm…” Merlin shrugged. “Why are you asking? You know.”

“I know?”

“You’re jus’ in my head,” Merlin said, squinting again, through the darkness of…were they in a cave? Arthur was stopped, that was for sure. Wait, no, it was a parking garage.

“No, Merlin you idiot, I’m not! Now tell me, just what were you being tasered for?”

Merlin frowned. “You’re not?”

“Tell me…we’re getting nowhere with this,” Arthur scowled.

Merlin laughed. “Think I was…I pissed on the bloke, I thin’…”

“And he electrocuted you?!” Arthur said, unbuckling his seatbelt, but leaving Merlin’s where it was.

“Soho,” Merlin said by explanation. “And I still don’t get what you’re doing here.”

“Neither do I,” Arthur muttered, but Merlin heard. He always did have good hearing. Maybe the ears?

“Then go away,” Merlin grumbled.

A moment later, Merlin laughed at the shocked look on Arthur’s face.

“I fail to see what’s so funny about this,” Arthur said, angry.

“The look on your face,” Merlin said, head falling to the side, smiling. “You’re a nice hallucination.”

And Arthur’s face fell. Which made no sense, as he was always well composed in Merlin’s head.

The prat launched forward, grabbing Merlin by the shoulders and turning him in the seat so they were facing each other. “Merlin,” he said, voice thick with tears he would never shed, grip painfully tight on Merlin’s bony flesh. “Listen to me: I am not a hallucination. This is real. You’re safe, and you’re home now. I’m going to take care of you.”

Merlin’s head fell to the other side, now, and he shrugged and mumbled, “M’kay.”

Arthur suddenly shook Merlin’s body. “Tell me what I just said.”

Merlin frowned. “You never do this.” He looked down at his arm, where a few track marks resided, most already faded with the last dregs of healing magic fighting for his sake. “What did Drake cut that with-”

“Merlin!” Arthur said, shaking Merlin again. “Look at me.”

Swallowing, mouth impossibly dry, Merlin looked up, Arthur’s eyes suspiciously bright under the pale yellow of the car light and the reflection of the headlights against the wall and back into the car. “Please, Merlin. Let me take care of you, show you that I’m real.”

Another shrug, leaning his head again. “Sure.”

Arthur looked about ready to sob at Merlin’s drugged and sluggish nonchalance. Ah, well – it would be gone when Merlin woke up. Or at least it would be a different Arthur…he hoped.

From Arthur’s pocket, some rock music started playing, and he reached in and pulled out a fancy looking cell phone – the entire front was a screen, and Merlin vaguely remembered having once been given one instead of cash, and he’d made a nice profit in selling it – and he pushed a button, slid the front up, and said, “Lance?”

Merlin frowned. Lance?

“Yea – I found him. He’s…you’ll see. Are you up there?” A pause, and possibly muttering from the other end of the line. “Gwen and Morgana there? Good. Get Gwen to draw up a bath.” Yet another pause, and Arthur’s face looked stricken with pain, again. “I just found him in a bloody flophouse, that’s why! Look…” Arthur sighed, and leaned his head against the headrest, rubbing his temples, and Merlin laughed again.

This time, the chatter from the phone seemed excited.

“Yes, that was Merlin, Gwen,” Arthur said, and since when was Gwen there?

“No,” Arthur said. “He’s high. Did you not just hear the flophouse bit? Val’s guesses were right. All of it. Now please, get the bloody bath ready – we’ll be up in a few minutes. And tell Lance to get his medic bag, and tell Morgana to review anything she knows about healing spells – we might need it.”

And with a click and snap, they were completely alone in the car, again.

Merlin smiled. “Where are we?”

Arthur looked up. “Cardiff. Home, to be exact.”

Another dopey (heh, dopey) grin. “M’kay.”

“Are you agreeing because you think you’re home, or because you think all this is shite and you’ll wake up back in the flophouse?”

Another shrug. “Doesn’t matter.” Even though Arthur was just a hallucination, he didn’t have the heart to tell him it was actually the latter.

Arthur shut his eyes in pain again, and Merlin slumped against the cold window. He heard Arthur leave the car. Then, suddenly, the window was gone, and Arthur was holding Merlin up with his shoulders, unbuckling the seatbelt, and lifting Merlin up the same way as before. Merlin curled up in those strong arms, pressing his face into Arthur’s chest (which were well muscled enough to make Merlin wonder what else Arthur did besides rugby), and sighed.

Merlin of all people knew that sometimes, living in a dream was better than facing reality. Arthur probably was a dream, but he was the nicest dream yet, and Merlin was willing to immerse himself in it just a little bit longer.

~*~

I feel afraid and I call your name
I love your voice and your dance insane
I hear your words and I know your pain

~*~

A/N: Please remember to feed the muses so the poor little author gets a break while they eat.

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