Title: Reunion - part 4
Character/s: Merlin, o.c.s
Summary: Merlin's fellow prisoners work through their anger - on him.
Warnings: Merlin whump a.k.a. violence
Word Count: 568
Prompt: Bingo: here for the party
Author's Notes: Thar she blows! ... My bingo card is a splotchy mess.
Time moves slowly those first several hours. There's a high window in the cell, and Merlin spends the time watching the sunbeams move across the floor.
It's hours before the first meal comes, and he decides not to try anything until he observes the sequence of events at least one time.
Later, a guard stops by to talk to the shorter man, whose name turns out to be Alastor, about his status. Alastor doesn't look pleased when the guard leaves.
Merlin listens to Alastor complaining to his friend for a while. He catches phrases like "went to that wedding" and "should have just let the bitch marry that tosser." He thinks he's getting an insight into Alastor's family feud until he hears "brothel" and "mother of my child," at which point he forgets himself and lets out a quiet but audible laugh.
Their peace goes to hell from there.
Alastor and his taller friend stop talking at once. Alastor's arms stiffen, and his hands tighten into fists. His rage shows in the red of his face.
He rounds on Merlin.
"We told you to be invisible, boy. Silent and unmoving," Alastor says to Merlin. To his friend, he says, "Hold him."
Merlin scrambles for a less vulnerable position, but he's too late. The so-far nameless fighter wraps his bulky arms around Merlin's shoulders and neck, then squeezes tightly.
Merlin grabs the arm around his neck to try to pull it off, but he's not nearly strong enough. He's being choked.
Through the stars dancing in his vision, he watches Alastor grip one of Merlin's arms in both hands. He feels the rough fingers digging into his flesh.
The bone breaks like a twig.
Alastor aims and lands a kick to one of Merlin's knees, and Merlin feels his leg bend the wrong way.
He chokes out a whimper of pain. At this point, passing out from lack of air has become desirable.
"What's going on there?" a guard shouts from the hallway.
Merlin is dropped to the floor. The side of his head hits the ground. His broken arm and leg are not spared the jolt of landing. Larger, more insistent stars burst in his vision.
He hears several sets of boots pounding the dirt toward them.
"Open 12," one guard says to another, who moves away.
Merlin hears the echo of a hinge squeak. The pain in his limbs and the smell of the soiled ground assaulting his nose are enough to bear, but that squeaky hinge puts him over the edge. He throws up.
There's jingling at his cell door. "Get them out of here," says the same guard.
There's enough movement in the cell to kick up some dust, but Merlin's eyes are squeezed closed against the pain. He hears all the movement and the sound of all the guards' spoken orders leave the cell. The door closes and is locked.
Merlin hears a faint, "George, fetch Gaius," from the end of the hallway.
Merlin tries to take a calming deep breath. It shifts his arm, and he whimpers again.
There's a rush of wind on his face. He feels a hand support his neck. Another hand slowly coaxes his shoulder toward the ground.
The movement hits both injured limbs at the same time. "Please!" Merlin begs.
But Merlin misses whatever the owner of the hands says in reply: he finally falls unconscious.