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There wasn't a point of getting out of bed. He couldn't sleep after the last ones. Not after Gaius and Gwen. Lancelot had died a hero's death, protecting Arthur. He understood and honored him. Gaius had been his mentor, basically a father figure. It tore him apart after Gaius left, but it was peaceful. It happened in his sleep, he hadn't felt a thing, but Gwen... Gwen was his best friend. Her death had hurt the most. Second only to 'him'; the only thing helping Merlin through everything, because he knows, one day, he will come back. He'll get Arthur back. All he needed to do was get through it, day after day.
With that, Merlin sleepily stood from his tear stained pillows and started towards the mirror. His eyes were drooped and there were dark blue and purple bags underneath his eyes. How many days since he last slept? He'd lost count. Not for at least a few weeks. Staying up, night after night, crying until his eyes were dry and his throat hurt. If not for Arthur, he didn't know if he would have made it this far..
Merlin sat at his desk and pulled out the sketchbook, flipping past dozens of pictures he'd drawn, a mixture of scenery around his cabin and drawings of his friends who were long gone by now. Grabbing a piece of chalk, he continued his picture of Arthur, the one he was too upset to finish. Thinking back to his days in the castle, he remembered his face. He remembered the blue eyes that always sparked with confidence, and his blonde hair that blinded all of Camelot.
Looking back down at the sketchbook, he noticed that everything he'd done on the paper was blurred with the tears forming in his eyes. He quickly turned the page, protecting his Arthur from any damage from the tears that landed on the blank page in front of him. Struggling with the blurry vision, he put the sketchbook away, knowing that trying to draw anything in his state would only end in disaster. Merlin was too afraid that by messing up the picture, he'd never remember what he looked like, and all hope would be lost.
Merlin rose unsteadily from his chair and started towards the window, trying to let the breeze cool his face and dry the streams coming down his face. He could see the blurred outline of the lake outside his cabin. He closed his eyes, rubbing his sleeve across his cheek to wipe off the tears.
"I'm sorry Merlin. I'm sorry.."
Merlin's eyes snapped open as new tears replaced the old. He fell to his knees, his head resting on the wall, afraid to close his eyes in the hopes of avoiding his haunting past. It was too much to understand, and too much to deal with alone. At this point, his only strand of hope was Arthur.
"Merlin..." The tears came down faster. Not now. He didn't want this now. He didn't want to hear his voice now: it hurt too much already. "Merlin..!" The voice was louder now, shouting at him, begging him to look, but he'd done that enough. It was always just his imagination running wild, playing tricks on him, torturing him, reminding him that he'll live the rest of his eternity waiting for something that will never come. "Merlin! Please!" He buried his head in his arms, feeling the tears soaking through his sleeve.
"Stop it," his voice came out cracked and hoarse. He hadn't spoken in weeks, he wasn't surprised. "Leave me alone."
"Merlin it's real! I'm real, please!" The voice came from outside the window. Merlin couldn't stand; his legs felt like they had disconnected from his body. The tears started to slow and he used the window sill to aid him in standing. Using his sleeve once more to wipe sway the tears, he debated looking out the window, knowing it must be his imagination, but deep down, knowing it was real.
He stole a glance out the window, and in that split second, he recognized a head of familiar blonde hair belonging to a body out in the lake. He looked again, and this time, he saw a face, the face he'd thought about drawing over and over a dozen times in his sketchbook. The face he couldn't quite finish.
"Arthur?" he couldn't get it all out, voice breaking halfway through. The man standing in the lake didn't have to hear the name to answer. He nodded, tears starting to fall from his face. It was Arthur.. his Arthur.. the Arthur keeping Merlin alive throughout the weeks after Gwen's death. The Arthur that had been with him all his time in Camelot. The Arthur who had haunted him whenever the had closed his eyes. It was him and he was real, standing in the lake beside Merlin's small cabin.
Merlin ran out his front door, and ran to him, embracing the one he cared about most, feeling a pair of strong arms wrap around him in return. He squeezed harder, crying into Arthur's shoulder, proof that it was real. It wasn't a dream or something his mind had made up to torture him with. He felt tears on his sleeve and smiled softly to himself.
"Arthur..." was all he could get out before choking on his words, tears creating waterfalls, but for the first time in years, they were tears of joy and happiness, instead of sorrow and regret. "Arthur I-"
"I know," he interrupted, knowing the words before Merlin knew them himself. He felt a happiness in his chest that he hadn't felt since Arthur had left him. "I'm sorry, Merlin." He shook his head, putting aside the apology. He knew what it was for. It was for leaving him. It was for allowing Merlin to live for years without the one person he truly needed. He appreciated the apology, but it wasn't necessary.
"You're here.. that's the only thing that matters," he replied, squeezing a little tighter, feeling Arthur squeeze back. "You came back. When I needed you the most... you came back." Merlin felt him nod and started to release Arthur from his grip.
"Of course I did. I love you, Merlin," he said, chuckling, tears falling down his face. Merlin choked. Years. It had been years of wishing for Arthur to come back. To come join Merlin one again. To become a team again. It was too hard for Merlin to do everything alone, but finally, he understood why.
"I love you, too."