Title: Despair of an Addict
Character/s: Arthur, Merlin
Summary: "It’s been months, Arthur!" Merlin pushed up to look at Arthur. "Months! I can't go on like this I can't! I need it! I--"
Warnings: NONE! No, really.
Word Count: 262
Author's Notes: BOOM! Anti-angst squad strikes again! Sorry, I really really hate making people sad.
Arthur heard the front door open. That wasn't what made him get up from his comfy bed and dash to the door, though. It was the pained moan that came with it.
"Merlin!" Arthur was beside Merlin in a flash, who had not bothered with coat and shoes and had slumped onto the couch facedown. Arthur gently nudged his arm. "Merlin, what hurts?"
"Everything!" Merlin let out a groan again.
"Shh.. Hey. It'll be better soon, yeah?"
"It’s been months, Arthur!" Merlin pushed up to look at Arthur. "Months! I can't go on like this I can't! I need it! I--" he looked around and reached out blindly, desperate, as if looking for a lifeboat in the middle of the Atlantic.
"I know, Merlin," Arthur grasped one of the hands flailing about, partly to avoid injury to either of them. "I know, I understand how you must feel. They said it'll be here soon. We've got to trust them--"
"Trust them?!" Merlin let out a derisive laugh that was almost bordering on insanity. Arthur frowned in concern. "I trusted them alright! And look where it has got me to. I'm a goddamn addict! They'll be coming to take me to rehab any day now. I just—I can’t—I need-- "
Arthur held Merlin that night, after they somehow made it through dinner and ended up in their bed, shushing him through his babbling and rocking him to sleep, wishing to dear God that those blokes Moffat and Gatiss get their shit together soon and release Sherlock season three already.