[Fic] A Train From Nowhere Brought Us Home, Chapter 1

[jayeinacross]

Title: A Train From Nowhere Brought Us Home [Chapter 1]
Progress: WIP
Rating: PG (this part)
Pairing/s: Arthur/Merlin (main, future), other minor pairings
Warnings: None (this part)
Word count: 1615
Summary: Modern AU. Arthur and Merlin first meet when they're waiting for the train on a rainy day, and that's how it all starts.
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, the BBC does.
A/N: This is my first chaptered fic. Chapters are probably going to be quite short, because it's easier to write like that because I write pretty slowly most of the time, because of school and everything.

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Arthur meets Merlin on a rainy day when they’re waiting for a train. It’s completely empty except for Arthur, and then Merlin gets there and sits right next to Arthur, even though there’s a whole other bench empty, three metres away. At first, there’s only slightly uncomfortable silence, only the steady beat of rain on the tin roof of the station shelter breaking through the silence, but then Merlin starts to talk.

It surprises Arthur that a stranger would just start talking to him, chattering about random, insignificant things. Arthur usually avoids talking to strangers, and even if it’s someone he knows, he only says what’s necessary. There are only a few people he talks to properly; Lance, his best friend, and Morgana, who is...well, there’s not really any appropriate label for Morgana. Evil bitch who’s just about as likely to give you annoyingly good advice as she is to knife you, maybe, but he still talks to her, for some reason he’s not even aware of.

But Merlin pries information out of him, cheerfully, and Arthur finds himself giving it away with barely any thought. That’s the kind of person Merlin is, the kind that will talk and talk and you’ll just find yourself talking back, without even realizing it. That’s exactly what Arthur finds himself doing.

The son of a well-known politician, Arthur’s been used to people lying all the time, lying and cheating and playing dirty, doing and saying anything to get what they want, but for some reason, Arthur feels that Merlin’s not that kind of person. He blithers on about his own life effortlessly, in a way that makes Arthur thinks that it’s all a very well practised lie, or that he’s just strangely honest.

Arthur finds out that Merlin’s going to the city too, just like he is. This little town is where he’s from, actually, Merlin informs him, bright as ever, but maybe a little bit sad at the same time. He moved to the city only a few weeks ago and has just finished visiting his mum and best friend, Will.

When Merlin asks Arthur what he’s doing there, Arthur answers the question truthfully and without suspicion, which surprises Arthur himself. Merlin looks thoughtful when Arthur says that he was here with Morgana, his – he pauses here, unsure as what Morgana exactly is, but he settles for – sort-of-sister, and her best friend Gwen, who used to live there.

Merlin’s eyes light up, and he explains that Gwen’s a friend of his – she lived next door when they were younger, and Merlin had actually run into her and Morgana the day before. When Merlin laughs and tells him he hadn’t realized that Arthur was Morgana’s Arthur, and that it actually makes sense, Arthur asks why, because of obvious appearance differences.

“Well,” Merlin explains, “Even though you don’t look alike, your personality’s kind of the same.”

“Are you trying to tell me that I act like an overbearing hag like her?” Arthur gasps theatrically.

Merlin grins. “Not exactly what I was thinking, but yeah, that too.” He’s maybe a little too bold as well, for a complete stranger, but Arthur supposes that he’s a bit like that himself. “But really, you’re both a bit full of yourselves and maybe not so aware of other people as much, and gorgeous and you know it, but even though you might come off like a bit of a prat sometimes, you’re not bad people.”

Arthur doesn’t really know whether it’s a good thing or a bad thing, and he realizes what Merlin’s said, and a smirk slowly spreads across his face. “So you think I’m gorgeous, huh?”

The sound of a train approaching is in the air as Merlin blushes bright red, the flush spreading to his neck and the tips of his weirdly large ears, but he lifts his chin. “You don’t need me to tell you that; I already said that you know it very well.”

Just then, the train pulls into the station, and they both pick up their bags and head onto the train. Merlin follows Arthur up the stairs to the top part of the train, and Arthur doesn’t object when Merlin sits opposite him. They just keep talking. It’s almost three hours until they get the city, and Arthur is actually glad to have company, even company as odd as Merlin.

“So,” Merlin says, “What do you want to talk about during this potentially boring three-hour train trip?”

“Why potentially boring?” Arthur says, instead of answering the question. “Why only potentially, not just boring or not interesting?”

“Because it depends on you whether it’s boring or not,” Merlin says. “If you don’t talk to me, it’ll be boring, but if you do, it won’t be. So, depending on what you’re going to do, it’ll be either boring or not boring. Now, do you really want to talk about details of sentences?”

Arthur shakes his head.

“Then what do you want to talk about?”

“Anything,” Arthur says, and he means it. “Whatever we can think of. Stuff that matters. Stuff that doesn’t matter. Anything.”

Merlin smiles. “That sounds good.”

They talk for a long time, only ever stopping to think about an answer or another topic. They do what Arthur said, they talk about things that matter, things that don’t matter, and everything else in between.

Arthur wonders aloud at the emptiness of the train; they are the only ones in their carriage. (“It’s so quiet.”

“Not many people come and go,” Merlin shrugs. “It’s always like this.”)

Arthur tries to avoid the subject of family; Merlin only ever mentions his mother, and Arthur doesn’t ask about his father, nor does he want to talk about his own. He’s afraid that Merlin won’t be as open and honest with him, that he’ll change like everyone else does when they realize that Arthur is the son of Uther Pendragon. He does, however, explain his relation to Morgana to Merlin, who was a little confused. (“What did you mean when you said sort-of-sister?”

“It’s difficult to explain to people simply,” Arthur says. “We grew up together. She’s like a sister to me. Morgana’s parents were good friends of my father, and when Morgana’s parents died, my father took her in. He’s her guardian, I guess.”

“...right,” Merlin says, uncertainly.)

Merlin mentions the weather; that conversation is short. (“It’s still raining,” Merlin muses.

“Bloody rain,” Arthur snorts, shaking his head.)

Arthur brings up the subject of karma, because he’s always wondered why people believed in it. It didn’t make sense to him. (“I don’t understand. There is no proof that someone who does something bad will pay for it.”

“It’s not about proof, it’s about belief. That doesn’t mean it’s a religious thing, or something spiritual though – at least, it’s not for me. For me, it’s about the balance – everything in the world has a balance, and when there’s a disruption in that balance, it has to be fixed, and it will be, somehow.”

Arthur had never thought of it that way before, and if there would be any reason for him to believe in karma, it would have been that explanation, even if the ‘somehow’ bit is a little vague.)

Eventually, Arthur ends up telling Merlin about his father, and he feels stupid for worrying about it, because Merlin appears to know almost nothing about politics and Uther Pendragon, and they move on from that topic quickly.

There’s something about Merlin. He’s different. So different from most of the people Arthur’s met in his life, and he finds himself actually wanting to be friends with Merlin, and it’s not often that Arthur wants to be friends with someone.

It’s also not often that Arthur finds himself liking someone so much that it’s really hard to restrain himself when they’re sitting so close in the cramped train that their knees are almost touching. And it’s not just physical, like it is with so many people, it’s just Merlin all over, all of him. Arthur is attracted to every single part of Merlin, from his captivating, bright blue eyes to his enthusiastic, almost constant hand gestures, to the way his skinny jeans fit perfectly, to how adorably scruffy he looks right now, asleep on the train.

There’s only fifteen minutes till his stop and about thirty until Merlin’s, but Arthur can’t bring himself to wake Merlin, not even to say goodbye. He quietly takes Merlin’s phone out of his bag, where he saw Merlin pull it out from before, and sets an alarm for twenty minutes from then. He considers putting his phone number into Merlin’s phone, but he tells himself that’s too presumptuous, but if he’s being completely honest with himself, he’s a little scared.

Scared of rejection, of Merlin not wanting him. He’s never liked someone like this before, even though Arthur’s not even known him for twelve hours, but it’s scary, and he doesn’t want to have to commit to anything, because Merlin – because any normal person – would want a boyfriend to admit that he actually had a boyfriend, and Arthur’s not sure whether he’d be able to face his father and tell him that he’s bi.

Arthur doesn’t even know if Merlin’s bi, or gay; he could be completely and utterly straight, even straighter than Lance, who faced Arthur’s first and only proposition in a way that only a guy who was completely sure that he was straight could.

Although, really, what kind of straight man wears a neckerchief?

Arthur gets off the train without waking Merlin or leaving his number; the only reminder of their encounter being their own memories and the alarm on Merlin’s phone.

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Chapter Two