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Meliodas hadn’t said a word since Merlin had found him.
He was sitting by the grave – and had been for who knew how long. The rain poured down, but he didn’t seem to notice. He didn’t even react as Merlin approached him. His eyes stuck on the cross but unseeing. Dirt and blood covered him. It colored his clothes. It smudged across his skin. It stuck in his hair, giving him a frantic appearance.
Merlin didn’t ask. She didn’t need to. What she saw was enough. It painted enough of the unpleasant picture for her to not want the rest of the answers. At least, despite how hard it was seeing Meliodas like this, it could have been worse. It had been a lot worse before.
Slowly, Merlin got Meliodas away from the grave and out of the cold. Meliodas barely reacted – silent and still, he let her guide him. Merlin tried to not be discouraged. It could have been worse. This she could deal with. So, she focused on her task: first, the wet clothes; then, the dried blood.
Meliodas didn’t even wince as she scrubbed at the dried-in blood and dirt, rubbing at the skin of his cheeks. Eventually, all that was left was his hair. It was a mess. No, it was worse than a mess. By the gods, how long had Meliodas been sitting like that?
Little by little, his hair looked blonde again. Merlin dried it off and began combing through it. Partly, because he really needed it, partly because it gave her something to do. She wasn’t quite ready to leave him on his own just yet. Still, she wanted to give him the time he needed. That was, after all, all they had. The clock had been reset once more.
“Merlin?” It was the first time either of them had spoken for what felt like hours. The first time Meliodas spoke since she found him. His voice was hoarse and barely audible.
“Yes?” Merlin hummed, continuing her work. At first, it seemed like he wouldn’t continue. Then he spoke up once more.
“Would you kill me?”
Merlin paused. She met his gaze in the mirror. His eyes were red and puffy, fresh tears making them all shiny. She sighed softly.
“I will not.”
“Please?”
Merlin avoided his gaze at the pleading tone. She focused on her combing as she shook her head.
“No.”
There was another beat of silence. Then,
“It hurts.”
“I know.”
“I just-” He seemed to struggle with his words. “I just want it to stop.”
Merlin faltered once more. She felt helpless at his pain. After all these years, after all these Elizabeths, even with Merlin and Meliodas joining together to find a solution, it almost seemed pointless. So far, all their ideas and attempts had been failures.
“I know,” Merlin repeated. For now, that was all the comfort she had to offer. “But we will end this. Maybe not today, but it will stop. I promise you that.”