Chapter 1

❝A New Beginning, But the Story's the Same❞

Merlin was, to put it simply, old.

He was now far older than his uncle, Gaius (may he rest in peace), which was saying a lot, because he used to believe he was ancient.

Now he was the ancient one who constantly referred to everyone around him as kid, which confused the hell out of his greying landlord, as when Merlin would hand him his monthly payment, he'd call him a "good lad" and pat him on the shoulder like they were grandfather and grandson. Of course he had never appreciated this act, but Merlin didn't particularly care. He found himself rarely caring about anything these days besides when certain radio shows he liked aired and what local bar he wanted to hit next (and technically when his next deadline was  to hand in his writing piece for the newspaper, but that was his job).

Jubilee's was open till midnight every night but Friday and Saturday, because that's when it stayed open till 3 as it was their busiest nights, and Merlin found himself wandering into the bar on the former date like everyone else in Chicago after a long day's work.

His British accent stood out like a sore thumb amongst the American crowd, making it easy for him to catch the bartender's attention as he sat down at the bar and ordered a glass of mead (he always ordered it, hoping it'd taste the same as it used too, but it never did, not that he'd ever liked the original taste). The man gave him a strange look, because it was a strange order, but left to get him a glass.

While he waited for Lance to come back (he had noticed his name tag), he silently observed the place.

Small ghost lights lined the walls with paper bats, and on every table was a lit up Jack-o'-lantern. Partygoers danced along near the center stage, where a middle-aged brunette woman, dressed as a witch (hat, broom, and all), sang a song that was appropriate for the spooky season. It was a tune that Merlin immediately recognized, almost as quickly as the person, and it nearly had him rolling his eyes. He swiftly turned back around in his seat and bowed his head to not draw any attention to himself. He could go a few hundred more years without ever interacting with that witch again (AN: If you know, you know).

The Norns, however, were not on his side (but when were they ever?).

"Do you think stealing my job is funny, Gaiusson?" A loud voice from behind broke Merlin from his thoughts.

Whilst he considered whether or not this was worth his time, the man sped up his decision for him as he roughly spun him around, the stool squeaking from underneath him in protest at the force of it.

"I asked you a question," He hissed; Merlin's nose scrunched up a bit in disgust. His breath was equally as bad as his appearance. Albert Watts was seen strictly as a smart dressed, posh type of man around the office, but tonight, it seemed he was going for a homeless look. His hair was no longer slicked back with tons of amounts of gel, it was ruffled and stuck up a bit like he'd been pulling the strands from stress, and his tie had come undone, hanging uselessly around his neck. It was quite fitting, if what Watts had said about himself was true.

Merlin's lips pulled upward into a pitiless smirk. "Funny? No. Satisfying? Yes, I think so."

Watts's face flushed from humiliation as a few onlookers chuckled. "You're going to regret this,' he promised.

Merlin shrugged, uncaring. "I don't think I will, but whatever calms you."

He pushed Albert off and turned back around as Lance came back with his drink, so he didn't see his jaw and fists clenching in anger. Next thing Merlin knew, a hand had grabbed ahold of his drink and slammed it down harshly on top of his head, glass breaking and liquid falling all over the place. Nearby people screamed in alarm and the music cut out.

Merlin barely heard the crowd that had formed around him in his shock. His ears rung. That twit seriously hadn't just done what he thought he did, had he?

Instead of crying out in agony, as anyone normally would when having glass shatter against your skull, or getting knocked out, Merlin casually reached a hand to his head to inspect his injuries, frowning when he saw blood, as well as several pieces of glass on his fingers. He grabbed the handkerchief from the front pocket of his jacket, wiping the blood off, staining the white material. He brushed off the many partygoers telling him to stay down, getting calmly up from his seat and walking toward the man who had hit him. Watts tried to size him up, which didn't really work at all because he was far shorter than him. And then with a sarcastic smile, Merlin punched him in the jaw.

Watts fell back onto a table, causing it to tip sideways. Cups of beer fell on him, cutting his skin, making him yell in agony.

"I was wrong," Merlin was quick to kick him in the groin when he saw Albert attempt to get up. Not finished just yet, he grabbed ahold of a tray of drinks a nearby waitress was holding, letting them fall on his body before decking him across the face with so much force it snapped in half, both Watts and it falling uselessly to the ground, knocked unconscious. "Now I'm satisfied."

Breathing heavily, Merlin noticed everyone in the bar gapping at him. Blood and alcohol covered his clothes, but it was nothing compared to the seriously injured man laying by his feet. Whoops. "Er, sorry," He said to the waitress, fiddling in his pockets before placing a $20 dollar bill down on her only other tray. She let out a screech, dropping the whole thing out of nerves.

"Woah, watch it!" Merlin caught the tray and threw the woman an exasperated look, who let out a yelp. She then ran away from him like a scared puppy with her tail between her legs. Several people began to do the same, clearly having gotten over their previous shock.

"Almost wasted it," He muttered in annoyance, ignoring the chaos. He grabbed one of the beers and took a swing of it just as a short, mad looking guy stormed his way through the crowd toward him. Probably the manager, he noted absentmindedly.

"I'm going to-" The man was cut off as Merlin held a hand up for him to wait. He then began to drink the whole pitcher of beer, not stopping until there wasn't a single drop left, bewildering the poor manager as he did it in seconds.

"I-" He tried again, to no avail. 

"'I'm going to have to ask you to leave before I call the cops', I know, I know," Merlin was already backing away toward the exit. He gave a nervous laugh. "Sorry, everyone! Workplace tension, hope you understand. Have a good night, I won't be here all week!"

"Hang on-!"

Merlin never learnt what was said as he bolted from Jubilee's club. He heard someone yell out to some patrolling cops to stop him (again, The Norns hated him), which was how he ended up in a police chase. He took a swift turn around a corner and pressed his back tightly against the brick wall. He was able to catch his breath, as the cops stupidly ran right past him. 

As the adrendaline died down, Merlin further inspected his head. As expected, there was still a lot blood, so much that no one had noticed his wounds had closed up as quickly as they were made.

His eyes shut as he groaned in the annoyance. Stupid, stupid, he hit himself. They'd all seen his face and Watts would obviously tell them his identity when he woke up. It wasn't exactly hard to find him either, when he worked for a popular newspaper, which of course would fire him when word got out. Everything he'd worked for had just fell apart in less than an hour. What was he supposed to do now? Go back to England? Last time he was there, it was during the 19th century, and he had to flee the country after a intense match of game shooting with Queen Victoria and her husband (don't ask).

The cold night air blew a crumbled up piece of paper near his feet. Catching a glimpse, he curiously opened it up to read more. 'I WANT YOU FOR U.S. ARMY' stood out to Merlin in bold, red and blue letters. 'NEAREST RECRUITING STATION...'

Maybe he'd be alright after all.

• { 🔹 ~ ✨ ~ 🔹 } •

AN: Incase you were wondering, he totally got him fired on purpose, and got pretty much all of those moves from Gwaine

I swear he becomes nicer next chapter once he meets Peggy, this is just what he's like when he's been alone for too long

I decided to briefly add in Merlin as a critic for the newspaper as a slight reference to Colin Morgan's role in the Crown. I also can totally see Merlin doing this job because he gets to insult someone as much as he pleases and gets paid for it.

I've never written a fight scene before so I'm cringing at what I've written, hopefully it's not as bad as I think it is.

I'm curious, what are you guys hoping to see in this fic? Any ideas? Even if its just for a one-shot, there are no wrong answers

Will probably edit this later, but see you in the next chapter!