Chapter Text
One day, Arthur thought, the midnight trip to the vending machine will not be the highlight of the night. He knew at some point he would have more to look forward to than whether the mysterious man who stocked the machine had gone with Snickers or M&M's in this week's batch. His hand jingled the change in his pocket as he stared through the glass, looking past the assortment of overly-priced, overly-preserved snack foods lined up neatly on the racks. One day his life would consist of more than hours of endless lectures, readings, and re-reading. One day he would actually be doing something productive in the world. He sighed, running a palm over his messy hair, resting his forehead against the glass.
None of this was new. He knew what he was getting himself into when signing up for his first chemistry course at about the same time most of his friends were getting their first yachts, or worse, getting married. Somehow after his father’s funeral the only thing that made sense was a transcontinental flight across the Atlantic and diving headlong into a pile of Ivy League admission applications. Today had just been a long day, and was going to be a longer night the more time he wasted in the hospital lounge while a pile of books awaited him in one of the 15th floor study rooms.
Shaking his head a bit, he stood up straight, prepared to go with the Snickers, and saw another person looking back at him in the glass reflection.
"Oh - sorry there, " Arthur stumbled out, "I didn't realize you were waiting."
He always forgot that there were actual patients in the hospital, and had he ever gone to somewhere other than the student classrooms, or gotten off the elevator on a different floor, he would be greeted with hospital gowns and IV poles instead of white boards and microscope lockers. He punched his numbers into the keypad and quickly threw his quarters down the slot. He told himself he was rushing in order to be polite, not because he was uncomfortable around sick people. He was in his 2nd year of medical school, he could not be put off by a simple hospital gown and a pair of haunted blue eyes.
He bent down to grab the candy bar and turned to face the man, who, by all accounts, had not moved since he first saw him in the reflection. On second glance Arthur’s gaze lingered longer, taking in the patient's jeans and t-shirt under the hospital gown. He was also missing an ID bracelet. Arthur opened his mouth -- more as an expression of confusion, than a desire to a say anything. Before he blurted out the first thing that came to his mind, the man spoke.
"Are you Jason Cole?”
He was still, and appeared exhausted, but radiated a kind of quiet energy that held Arthur in place. His straight dark hair hung just in front of his eyes, a bit grown out from a decent haircut. He was lean, with a kind of wiry musculature that hinted at a toughness someone wouldn't want to test. His eyes held Arthur in place and it took a moment for him to realize he hadn't answered the question. That annoying question he fielded on an every other day basis. He cleared his throat to speak, but he was preempted again.
"Are you? Not that it really matters if you're not, it's just that --,"
"I'm not."
"Oh. Well, you look --,"
"--exactly like him, I know. But if I actually was some famous TV prat, the highlight of my evening would not be this vending machine, I assure you."
His more sour thoughts were usually reserved for the low-grade, internal berating that was his background soundtrack. Except for tonight, apparently. And he still wasn't sure whether this man should even be out of his hospital bed.
"Well. Great, you're not him, but you really do look like him and..."
The man looked away briefly and sighed.
"...and I would really appreciate about five minutes of your time."
Arthur’s eyebrows shot upward and he began walking away even before he shook his head. The last thing he needed was another patient who thought that because he had a hospital ID badge, he could actually help them in any way.
"I'm just a medical student, sorry." He grasped the Snickers bar tightly and almost passed the man before a hand shot out, grabbing his arm.
"My…Gwen. Gwen loves you -- well, loves Jason Cole anyway, and she's sick and she's tired and she hasn't smiled since they stuck an IV in her arm. Can you just - can you just come stop in and say hi? She's miserable."
Arthur stared at the pale fingers wrapped around his arm and shook his head again.
"I'm not going to *pretend* to be some--,"
"She's *four*. She won't know the difference."
At that, Arthur lifted his gaze, the tired man's face no more than a few inches from his own.
"Please."
And Arthur was nodding before he was thinking. It wasn't until they were in the elevator, headed to the pediatric ward that he realized something was still off.
"Umm..."
“Merlin.”
Arthur nodded. He was following a stranger. Named Merlin. Naturally.
"Right. So - why are you wearing a hospital gown?"
Merlin’s head snapped down, as if the attire was a surprise to him as well. When he lifted his head, Arthur thought he might have seen a slight upward curve to his mouth.
“Gwen wouldn't put one on if I didn't first. She can be incredibly stubborn."
Arthur felt a pressure release in his chest and nodded silently.
"What were you thinking?," Merlin asked, staring at him, curious and in his apparently always disconcerting manner.
The elevator doors chimed and Arthur followed Merlin’s quick pace.
"I thought you were a psych patient."
At that, Merlin turned back with a small quick smile, wrinkles barely forming at the corners of his blue eyes.
"Just depends on the day really."
Arthur thought, quite correctly, that he was already in way over his head.
They walked quickly and quietly by the nursing station, a circular fortress that took up almost the entirely of the floor's central area. The walls were painted sky blue and covered with small white hand prints with scribbled signatures underneath. The desk nurse barely acknowledged them as they filed past, their steps echoing in the empty hallway. Merlin’s footsteps slowed and stopped finally in front of room 4218. He flicked a gaze briefly at Arthur with a quiet command.
"Stay here."
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In retrospect, Arthur realized he had actually had two very good opportunities to perhaps not gracefully, but certainly effectively, exit from that situation. Merlin could have been barely a memory, just another addition to the long list of mistaken identity interactions that had plagued his life since some random New Jersey man, who just happened to bear an eerie resemblance to him, hijacked children's programming on Saturday mornings. Gwen would have gone on watching Jason's Jumping Jacks! faithfully, ignorant of Arthur’s small world and he of hers.
A knock on his office door jolted Arthur out of his daytime wanderings.
"Dr.P, have you finished with that chart yet? Amy's mother needs to leave soon."
"Yes! Yes, sorry," he responded, looking down to the small prescription pad under his right hand. “Ondansetron 4 mg PO QD." Quickly scribbling the jumble of letters that now passed for his signature, he ripped off the page and passed it to his office nurse.
"Great," Ms. Halden replied. "Rooms 3 and 4 both have patients waiting." She bared her teeth in a way only a very very dense man would mistake as a smile, and ducked out of his office.
Arthur felt a small tingling of guilt. Ms. Halden, despite spending the majority of her fifty-seven years as a waitress in a Morningside Heights diner, was hands-down his best nurse. She had come to him with 25 year-old nursing degree and no previous experience. Before he could formulate a polite way to ask, she spoke up shortly and plainly.
"I was always going to be a nurse. Then I met and married my Harry and helped him set up a new business. We ran the diner on 116th Street for 24 years. He's dead now and I'm not going anytime soon. I spent a year taking courses to update my skills. I'm a good nurse." She looked away for the first time since entering his office.
"Now you just have to decide if skills are enough, or if you'd rather have the added bonus of looking at one of these twenty-something new girls every day." She had the first streaks of gray through her light brown hair, simply fashioned in a low bun at the nape of her neck. Ms. Halden finally looked back up, her brown eyes meeting his. Arthur couldn’t help the small smile.
" 'HH Eats & Treats' ?"
"Harry Halden," she said proudly. "That was us."
Arthur hired her on the spot and cancelled the rest of the interviews.
That was three years ago, and though he did eventually need to hire Tom and Wendy to handle the growing patient load, Ms. Halden remained firmly his right-hand man. When she gave him that look, he knew he needed to have 'less cute, more speed', as she frequently put it. He had room to work a bit faster today. Daydreaming about Merlin and Gwen would have to wait.
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Arthur lived in a decent, if nondescript, apartment on the upper west side. He had walls separating his kitchen, bathroom, and bedroom, which was an exponential improvement from his days at Columbia. He picked up curry chicken and somosas from Kismat and jiggled his key in the street door for the requisite 30 seconds until it would open.
All of it was ridiculous considering the English estate that Morgana ran with the efficiency and boredom of a brilliant woman waiting for her life to start. He had been back twice since Uther’s funeral. The first time was to assure Morgana he was alive, and indeed pursuing the one profession he vowed never to touch, in America, the country in which he’d vowed never to live. He met her gaze so she believed him, he tolerated her spontaneous choking hugs to assuage the guilt of her loneliness, and he kept his bags packed to keep any furtive hope from blooming. He signed stacks of paperwork ensuring Morgana complete independence to run the Pendragon Estate and studiously avoided the 1st Annual Pendragon Conference on Maternal Mortality - in honor of Dr. Uther Pendragon who devoted his life’s work to the study of safe childbirth. Dr. Uther Pendragon, who could have spent his days in comfortable leisure as Lord Uther Pendragon, Duke of Essex, but instead worked tirelessly to combat the very tragedy that took the life of the Duchess. They saw it as great charity and great character. To Arthur it was an escape and he’d had no intention of following his father down that path. Then Uther died, Arthur's life suddenly seemed as empty as his father accused it of being, and he booked a flight to JFK.
Tonight, he’d relaxed onto his couch, worn grey leather and intoxicatingly comfortable. Arthur now ate as if he never spent years at proper royal functions, selecting appropriate silverware and conversation topics with equal care. With food containers opened and still partially in their plastic bags, he idly flicked on the TV and thought of the huge brown eyes, widened even more with surprise, that greeted him in Room 4218.
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After his foreboding command, Merlin had slipped into the room, closing the door behind him so quickly that he nearly caught the tail of his hospital gown. Arthur stood staring, exhaustion slowing down his natural reactions. He had just processed that once again he was off-put by Merlin and began thinking of how long he had left his laptop idle and unprotected upstairs.
“Ok, she’s still awake,” Merlin whispered, head peeking out the door, barely opened. “Just maybe say hello, and, um, give her a hug or something…” he trailed off. He looked away just as Arthur saw the tightening of his eyebrows, the beginning of doubt creeping in.
“Yeah, sure. Of course. Prince Charming, ready to go.” Arthur tried his winning smile, one he hadn’t used since his old life. It was 3am, so he didn’t quite get the 1000 watt result. He hoped it was a solid effort.
“Umm. Yeah…” Merlin’s whispering dropped to nearly inaudible, his eyes sneaking back up to Arthur’s slowly at first, then snapping to full attention. He gazed a beat too long at his mouth, then sighed, and opened the door in full invitation.
Arthur was greeted by a very awake, chocolate-skinned girl with tight, dark pixie curls. She sat there cross-legged on her hospital bed, wearing a respiratory mask, and blinked twice when she saw Arthur. She looked behind him, presumably to Merlin.
“Look who I found, love?,” Merlin offered, his eyes full of assurance.
“Jason…Jason Jacks?” came a small voice from behind the mask. Her eyes really are impossibly huge, Arthur thought. He nodded, not quite able to bold-face lie to the utter innocent across from him.
“Where is your Magic Hat of Jumping Jacks?”
“Oh. Well, it’s- back home. At my home, to keep it safe.” He spared a few brain cells to project annoyance to the overly perky Jason Jacks. Arthur used to be a great liar. Another 800 watt beam. Could a four year old be suspicious?
Gwen nodded, eyes shifting solemn with understanding. “Daddy only does his Magic at home too.” Arthur nodded along with no comprehension of child logic.
“Is that for me?,” she asked, the IV tubing moving with her arm as she pointed to the Snickers bar in his hand. Arthur looked down, having forgotten about the candy. Right.
“Oh. Yes! This is for you,” he smiled winningly again and darted a quick glance at Merlin before offering the candy bar. Merlin had moved to sit beside the bed, with eyes only for Gwen.
“It’s nice to meet you, Gwen,” Arthur added in his regal voice, after she took the candy bar with heartbreaking reverence. “I heard you are four whole years old, and you don’t want to go to bed.” His face is hurting a little from smiling, but surprisingly, it’s not all forced.
“I do want to go to bed. In MY bed. At home.” The last bit lost all of the force as she looked pitifully over at Merlin. It was unclear to Arthur how Merlin ever said no to her.
“I’m sure you do. You must really like your room at home?”
“Yes. I like it. It’s pink and yellow.”
“It sounds perfect. Maybe you could show it to me later? I would love to visit.” By this time Arthur had slowly moved into her space, perched on the corner of her kids’ sized hospital bed.
“Daddy says no strangers in the house unless he brings them,” she told him with honest regret. Arthur softly chuckled and was about to respond when she added, “But we know you from TV…so you are not a stranger! Right, Daddy?” She whipped her gaze between them, seeking confirmation of her simple deduction.
Merlin wrapped a long, warm arm around her small shoulders.
“Mr. Jacks is very busy, love.” Merlin gently avoided. “He’s come to tuck you in for a good nights sleep. Will you let him?” And Merlin was talking to her, but looking at Arthur, his blue eyes held Arthur’s with intensity and mutual fatigue. Arthur felt his tired, looked at him, wondered - finally - how this pale, lanky, and really quite lovely, man came to be to Gwen all that he clearly was. He nodded along with Merlin’s words.
“That’s right. It is time for all good little girls to go to bed now, Gwen. Can I give you a magic hug goodnight?”
“What’s the magic hug gonna do?” Her eyelids were already drooping.
“Magic hugs send you sweet dreams.” Arthur moved towards her as her little arms opened in invitation. He gave her a long squeeze and kiss on the forehead, surprising himself with his own tenderness. Gwen sighed and curled into Merlin’s side without another glance to Arthur.
“Thank. You.” Merlin mouthed, gently patting Gwen’s hair. Arthur simply nodded again in acknowledgement. For no particular rational reason, he hesitated a moment before getting up. Like he could stay there, with the two of them just a little longer. He took a breath, knowing it was time to leave, forcing down the curiosity that wanted to bubble to the surface.
He nodded again to Merlin and this time accomplished physical movement, up and away from the bed. Sleep had started to creep into Merlin’s eyes as well. He watched Arthur, and, with a small upturn to his mouth, touched his hand to his lips and blew Arthur a small, grateful kiss.
----------------------------------------------------
Arthur had gone straight home that night, his books, computer, and studying forgotten. He fell into his bed, riding on the calm emanating from his unexpected encounter. The next morning he woke up, too early, and back to reality. Picking back up at his abandoned study post, he slogged through the pharmacology, days and nights blurring. Taking exams felt less celebratory than his classmates seemed to enjoy. He was relieved that it seemed he learned something and found himself in the Children’s Hospital elevators, without much thought. It had been 3 days since he met Merlin and Gwen. He assumed they would be gone. He walked towards the familiar room, not slowing his pace, just to pass by and not admit to himself what he was looking for.
He sailed past the room and was considering how to double back without throwing off the Code Pink alarms.
“Hey! Umm..Jason!”
Arthur slowly turned to see Merlin. An awake, quite smart-looking, Merlin, who was walking out of 4218. He was dressed in a slim, fitted dark suit that drew attention to his frame with a measured coolness that took Arthur by surprise. That and the purple tie.
“I know that’s not your name,” Merlin grinned. “But - I didn’t actually get it, did I?”
Arthur just stared, reconciling this slick, frankly, hot specimen with the man in the hospital gown.
“It’s Arthur,” he managed.
“Arthur. Arthur, I have to say Thank you. Again.” Merlin slid out. He had a hand out, but not in a formal-handshake-thank-you-very-much sort of way. He grabbed Arthur’s wrist, tugging gently to bring him inside the room. A quick glance told him Gwen was not there.
“Yeah. Yeah, of course. I mean, You’re welcome.” Merlin had guided him just inside the door, kind of had him against the wall. The sleepy calm from his last visit was nowhere. Arthur opened his mouth.
“It’s not every study night that I get blown a kiss.” And immediately shut it. What?
Merlin pinked a little, with a small smile, nodding. Arthur realized Merlin still had fingers wrapped around his wrist. Those tightened, the slightest bit.
“Yeah, well.” And Merlin leaned in, pressing soft lips to Arthur’s. He hung there for a moment, his thumb making a small circle on the inner soft of Arthur’s wrist. Arthur breathed out tension he didn’t know he had and maybe a small sound of - what, he didn’t know. Merlin heard it, lips curved against his mouth. He moved to press a small peck at the corner, before backing away slowly.
“I was taught that Prince Charming always ought to get a kiss.”