Chapter Text
The door had not closed yet, and Arthur knew he had messed it all up. Burying his head in his hands, Arthur sighed loudly. Jumping from his chair, Arthur went after Merlin, only to stop right at the door.
No, no. It’s better to let Merlin have a bit of space . Arthur thought. Besides, it was not an argument to have in the middle of the street.
Half an hour after Merlin had left Arthur’s flat, he felt restless. Arthur regretted letting Merlin go. He should have gone after Merlin and persuaded him to hear Arthur’s apologies. Or, much better, Arthur should have heard Merlin's reasons first and not jump to conclusions. But nothing could be done about it.
Taking courage, Arthur called Merlin, but he did not reply. Ten minutes later, Arthur made two consecutive calls. When it was clear Merlin had no intention of picking up the phone, Arthur tried texting him. He had the same luck. Merlin did not even read them.
You’re a moron , Arthur told himself.
Another hour passed, and Arthur thought Merlin might not be at his home alone. He started calling their friends, explaining why Merlin did not want to talk to Arthur and listened to everybody’s opinion. They varied from “you’re an idiot” (Arthur agreed on that) to “you’ll end up solving things out” (Arthur wished it to be true.) But no one had heard anything from Merlin. Only Gwen, who had managed to scold Arthur and commiserate with him in a single conversation, had one helpful idea. “Had you tried his mother?” And no, Arthur had not thought about her. And maybe it was not such a good idea after all. “Don’t be a chicken and face the tune,” Gwen had said.
The three ringtones Arthur had to wait for before Hunith picked up the phone were the most dreadful seconds in Arthur’s life.
“Hello, Arthur.” Maybe Merlin was not in his mother’s house, but by Hunith’s tone of voice, Arthur had no doubt Merlin had told her all about her argument.
“Hello Hunith. Ummm. How do you do?” Arthur cringed. Hunith was probably going to tell him to go to hell.
“Good.” That was better than Arthur had expected.
“So, I cannot reach Merlin, and I wondered if you had heard from him.”
“Yes, I did.” Yes, Arthur had inferred that much.
“Oh, oh, and was he…?” Arthur trailed, but Hunith was a better woman than Arthur deserved.
“Listen, Arthur, I know Merlin is going to be mad at me for telling you, but I know him and you, and I know it would both be good to have a grown-up conversation.” How much Arthur wished for the earth to swallow him. “He’s here. He’s gone to the supermarket, but I guess he’ll be back anytime soon, and from what I can tell, he has come to stay the weekend.”
“Oh, thank you, thank you.” Arthur would have kissed her.
“Wait a moment,” Hunith interrupted. “Maybe it would be best if you’d come tomorrow.” Arthur’s heart sank. “It’s going to be a heavy storm, and it might be dangerous to drive in that weather.”
Arthur breathed easier. For a moment, he had feared Hunith had changed her mind. “Don’t worry, I’ll be careful. I’ll stop in case it’s raining that much.” Arthur had peered through the window and, from where he was, Arthur peered through the window, and from where he was, it did not seem to rain anytime soon.
Happier than before, Arthur picked up his car keys but stopped short of the front door. Should he take some clothes to stay the weekend? Or would that be too presumptuous on his part? Better be prepared , Arthur thought and went to take a bag. He could leave it in the truck, and if things did not turn out as he hoped, no one would know the bag was there.
On his way to Hunith’s home, Arthur called Gwen to let her know she was right about Merlin. “Are you sure you should go tonight? I saw the weather forecast. It’s expected heavy rain.”
“Well, this is England.”
“Ha, very funny. But be careful.”
The drive to Merlin’s hometown lasted an hour and a half, and Arthur hoped it did not rain as much as Hunith and Gwen feared. He was too busy mulling over his argument with Merlin, going on in circles about what he said, what Merlin said. But as he kept driving, finding only a few cars on the road, Arthur noticed he was going directly towards where the storm seemed to be.
Halfway, the rain started. Or, more accurately, Arthur found it. Not too much at first, but soon, the road was hard to see, and the wipers could not clean the water fast enough. It rained as Arthur had never seen before, let alone had driven in such weather.
Arthur did not see the car which crashed into him from behind. He had stopped when the water entered his car, not knowing what to do. There were deep pools, and Arthur could not go forward or back. Arthur was calling the 999 one moment, and the next moment, he felt as if his spine were trying to leave his body. It took him a moment to remember where he was or what he was doing.
The rain kept falling with force. Disoriented, Arthur looked down at where the water reached his shins. When he looked through his window, two lights came directly to him, and Arthur knew he had to leave his car. Arthur felt along for his seatbelt, for the door handle, but his hands did not cooperate. Fear gripped him. He was not fast enough.
Arthur never felt the impact.