Don't know if I laugh or cry
May. 11th, 2012 12:54 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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camelot_drabbleAuthor: 
kleinefee92
Title: Don’t know if I laugh or cry
Rating: PG
Pairing: pre-Merlin/Arthur
Characters: Merlin, Gwaine
Summary: Merlin's still learning the art of misdirection, and struggling to catch the heart of the guy who often shares space and bylines, but is never quite on the same page, as Camelot's resident magical hero.
Word Count: 998
Prompt:Whispers in the dark
Author's Notes: The title for part V of Smalltown Superhero is from Faith No More’s Out of Nowhere.
Don’t know if I laugh or cry
‘How could you keep this from me?’
Groaning, Merlin twisted restlessly in merciless slumber.
‘I’m going to kill him, Superboy. Would you like to watch?’
“No.”
‘Oh, yes.’
Breathing ragged and body slick with sweat, his head tossed from side to side on his pillow. “No, Morgana, don’t!”
‘Why shouldn’t I take away what you love, Superboy? You’re so weak. You deserve this.’
“NOOOOO!” As the Faerie Queen’s magic raced toward the form of Arthur Penn, even as he gazed at Merlin in betrayal, he jerked awake, staring up at the ceiling in horror and devastation.
After lying there for a moment, panting and spent, he dragged himself up from his supine position and swiped a trembling hand over his face. This has got to stop. For the ninth night in a row, he had woken from the same terrifyingly real nightmare. He knew why. The more he and Arthur searched for evidence against the Faerie Queen, the closer they came to tracking her down, and he was becoming an absolute wreck at the thought of actually finding the necessary data. As much as he would love to be able to put her away for the rest of her life, Merlin knew it would not be that simple. Arthur still had no idea the sorceress they were going after was his half-sister, but the time for his continued ignorance was running out.
One way or another, Morgana’s true nature would be revealed soon, and it would utterly destroy Arthur, who loved her completely.
He searched for the answers to his problems in the darkness around him, but all he found were the remnants of his recurring phantasms. The alarm clock beside his bed informed him pitilessly that it was not yet three in the morning. Still, after waking from that particular nightmare, there would be no more sleep. Frustrated and disheartened, he threw off what little of the sheets continued smothering him and stumbled into the washroom.
The heated water chased sweat and stray tears down the drain, leaving only exhaustion and stress behind. Peeling himself away from the stretch of tile he leaned against, he shut of the showerhead and stepped out, toweling himself dry.
After pulling on a clean pair of boxers, he went out to sit beside his azaleas on the balcony. Looking out over the city, he asked, “What am I supposed to do? I said I would help him, and I will, but... no matter what I do to prevent it, he’s going to get hurt.”
The faint breeze stirred the otherwise quiescent flowers, and Merlin glanced at them despondently.
“Yeah, I don’t know either.” He heard the soft snick of the grappling hook finding its mark before a pair of booted feet landed to his left, nearly soundless. Turning to face the intruder, he sighed exasperatedly. “You know, most people are asleep at this time of night, Gwaine.”
A grin appeared in the expanse of skin left bare to the world by his friend’s mask. “That’s ‘Sir Gwaine,’ to you.”
Shooting the man an unimpressed look, tempered by the amusement Merlin has never been able to fight in his presence, Merlin informed him, “I refuse to cave to the vagaries of the press where you are concerned. Calling you the Dark Knight has only made you cockier than before.”
“I should sue you for libel, Mr. Journalist. That title goes back to long before my leather wearing days.”
“Technically, what I said would be considered slander, and no court would ever uphold that claim, since they don’t actually know who you are. Now, what are you doing here?”
“I just came from dropping a few muggers off at the Yard, and I needed a place to catch my breath before George sees me and frets.” They had a good system, the two of them. Merlin took care of the magical criminals, and Gwaine took care of the more mundane infringers. It helped immensely that Gwaine was willing to help pay for any damages incurred during their bouts of heroics with the vast inheritance at his disposal.
“George always frets.” Aside from keeping his employer’s secrets, looking after the manor, and researching Camelot’s illegal activities, fretting was one of George’s specialties. That, and delivering subtly disapproving stares.
“Alright, so I had a bit of an ulterior motive. I haven’t heard from you in a while, and clearly I shouldn’t neglect you so much if pining after me has started keeping you up at night.”
Merlin raised an eyebrow in Gwaine’s general direction. “Did you hit your head while you were taking care of those muggers?”
Placing the head in question in Merlin’s lap, Gwaine looked up and asked, “Why? Are you willing to kiss it better if I say ‘yes?’” When all he earned for his troubles was a slight rise at the corners of Merlin’s lips, he lifted a hand and squeezed his friend’s thigh. “What’s wrong with the princess now?”
“Nothing new. Nothing you don’t already know about.” To Gwaine Lot, no piece of information was truly sacred - he could hack into any database, bug any room. As convenient as that skill was on a plethora of occasions, it often made Merlin mourn for the days before technology became so invasive.
“Doesn’t mean I won’t listen if you feel like talking about it.” He sent a less-than-surreptitious glance at the potted plants, causing Merlin to shake his head. Why had he not considered that Gwaine would know about his recent floral confessions?
Sighing, Merlin promised, “If I ever actually find one of your cameras or listening devices in my home, I will curse it to play Britney Spears until your ears bleed.”
“Duly noted. Now - you were about to spill your heart out and possibly cry on my shoulder.”
Laughing, Merlin shoved his irrepressible friend away. “In your dreams.”
Sitting together against the balcony window, they waited and watched the world come alive.
kleinefee92Title: Don’t know if I laugh or cry
Rating: PG
Pairing: pre-Merlin/Arthur
Characters: Merlin, Gwaine
Summary: Merlin's still learning the art of misdirection, and struggling to catch the heart of the guy who often shares space and bylines, but is never quite on the same page, as Camelot's resident magical hero.
Word Count: 998
Prompt:Whispers in the dark
Author's Notes: The title for part V of Smalltown Superhero is from Faith No More’s Out of Nowhere.
Don’t know if I laugh or cry
‘How could you keep this from me?’
Groaning, Merlin twisted restlessly in merciless slumber.
‘I’m going to kill him, Superboy. Would you like to watch?’
“No.”
‘Oh, yes.’
Breathing ragged and body slick with sweat, his head tossed from side to side on his pillow. “No, Morgana, don’t!”
‘Why shouldn’t I take away what you love, Superboy? You’re so weak. You deserve this.’
“NOOOOO!” As the Faerie Queen’s magic raced toward the form of Arthur Penn, even as he gazed at Merlin in betrayal, he jerked awake, staring up at the ceiling in horror and devastation.
After lying there for a moment, panting and spent, he dragged himself up from his supine position and swiped a trembling hand over his face. This has got to stop. For the ninth night in a row, he had woken from the same terrifyingly real nightmare. He knew why. The more he and Arthur searched for evidence against the Faerie Queen, the closer they came to tracking her down, and he was becoming an absolute wreck at the thought of actually finding the necessary data. As much as he would love to be able to put her away for the rest of her life, Merlin knew it would not be that simple. Arthur still had no idea the sorceress they were going after was his half-sister, but the time for his continued ignorance was running out.
One way or another, Morgana’s true nature would be revealed soon, and it would utterly destroy Arthur, who loved her completely.
He searched for the answers to his problems in the darkness around him, but all he found were the remnants of his recurring phantasms. The alarm clock beside his bed informed him pitilessly that it was not yet three in the morning. Still, after waking from that particular nightmare, there would be no more sleep. Frustrated and disheartened, he threw off what little of the sheets continued smothering him and stumbled into the washroom.
The heated water chased sweat and stray tears down the drain, leaving only exhaustion and stress behind. Peeling himself away from the stretch of tile he leaned against, he shut of the showerhead and stepped out, toweling himself dry.
After pulling on a clean pair of boxers, he went out to sit beside his azaleas on the balcony. Looking out over the city, he asked, “What am I supposed to do? I said I would help him, and I will, but... no matter what I do to prevent it, he’s going to get hurt.”
The faint breeze stirred the otherwise quiescent flowers, and Merlin glanced at them despondently.
“Yeah, I don’t know either.” He heard the soft snick of the grappling hook finding its mark before a pair of booted feet landed to his left, nearly soundless. Turning to face the intruder, he sighed exasperatedly. “You know, most people are asleep at this time of night, Gwaine.”
A grin appeared in the expanse of skin left bare to the world by his friend’s mask. “That’s ‘Sir Gwaine,’ to you.”
Shooting the man an unimpressed look, tempered by the amusement Merlin has never been able to fight in his presence, Merlin informed him, “I refuse to cave to the vagaries of the press where you are concerned. Calling you the Dark Knight has only made you cockier than before.”
“I should sue you for libel, Mr. Journalist. That title goes back to long before my leather wearing days.”
“Technically, what I said would be considered slander, and no court would ever uphold that claim, since they don’t actually know who you are. Now, what are you doing here?”
“I just came from dropping a few muggers off at the Yard, and I needed a place to catch my breath before George sees me and frets.” They had a good system, the two of them. Merlin took care of the magical criminals, and Gwaine took care of the more mundane infringers. It helped immensely that Gwaine was willing to help pay for any damages incurred during their bouts of heroics with the vast inheritance at his disposal.
“George always frets.” Aside from keeping his employer’s secrets, looking after the manor, and researching Camelot’s illegal activities, fretting was one of George’s specialties. That, and delivering subtly disapproving stares.
“Alright, so I had a bit of an ulterior motive. I haven’t heard from you in a while, and clearly I shouldn’t neglect you so much if pining after me has started keeping you up at night.”
Merlin raised an eyebrow in Gwaine’s general direction. “Did you hit your head while you were taking care of those muggers?”
Placing the head in question in Merlin’s lap, Gwaine looked up and asked, “Why? Are you willing to kiss it better if I say ‘yes?’” When all he earned for his troubles was a slight rise at the corners of Merlin’s lips, he lifted a hand and squeezed his friend’s thigh. “What’s wrong with the princess now?”
“Nothing new. Nothing you don’t already know about.” To Gwaine Lot, no piece of information was truly sacred - he could hack into any database, bug any room. As convenient as that skill was on a plethora of occasions, it often made Merlin mourn for the days before technology became so invasive.
“Doesn’t mean I won’t listen if you feel like talking about it.” He sent a less-than-surreptitious glance at the potted plants, causing Merlin to shake his head. Why had he not considered that Gwaine would know about his recent floral confessions?
Sighing, Merlin promised, “If I ever actually find one of your cameras or listening devices in my home, I will curse it to play Britney Spears until your ears bleed.”
“Duly noted. Now - you were about to spill your heart out and possibly cry on my shoulder.”
Laughing, Merlin shoved his irrepressible friend away. “In your dreams.”
Sitting together against the balcony window, they waited and watched the world come alive.
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no subject
Date: 2012-05-12 04:14 pm (UTC)Sitting together against the balcony window, they waited and watched the world come alive.
no subject
Date: 2012-05-12 05:21 pm (UTC)I'm glad you liked this part of the series, especially since it's the first part that includes Gwaine - I've been wanting to write him into this 'verse for a while now.
no subject
Date: 2012-05-13 05:52 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-05-13 12:01 pm (UTC)Thank you for the lovely comment :)
no subject
Date: 2012-05-17 01:35 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-05-17 02:42 am (UTC)Ahaha - yes, let's please leave out crappy secondary storylines. It's kind of nice to know I'm not the only one who gets frustrated by those ;)
no subject
Date: 2012-05-16 07:21 pm (UTC)And LOL, "Sir Gwaine", love it! :D
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Date: 2012-05-16 07:31 pm (UTC)\o/ Yep - that reference was too good to pass up! Thanks, bb ♥
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Date: 2012-05-16 11:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-05-17 02:44 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-05-18 12:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-05-18 01:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-05-19 02:56 am (UTC)