I would read the shit out of an investigative journalist AU. I don't know enough to write one. I want like, okay, so as if covering Gaza wasn't harrowing enough, Arthur takes the assignment to go undercover in Myanmar to cover the pro-democracy uprising. Merlin's like DUDE YOU HAVE A DEATH WISH but Arthur is like WHATEVS. "I'm not going this time," says Merlin adamantly, and Arthur says, "Right, okay." So Arthur goes into Myanmar alone on a tourist visa with a handycam. He sends back clips of himself talking in his hotel room, in cafes, in the streets, in the middle of swarms of Burmese protesters, young and old, who talk to Arthur in broken English that Merlin can barely understand, but their anger is palpable and their fire is real. Arthur sends back clips of Buddhist monks throwing bricks at the junta, who retaliate with tear gas. He films that part from the top of the building and stupidly decides to descend to the street, getting on-the-ground shots. Merlin's heart seizes up when the camera suddenly jerks, a sign that Arthur has been apprehended by a soldier, and then there's yelling ("I'm a tourist! This camera has no batteries!" Arthur exclaims, and Merlin thinks Arthur is such an idiot sometimes) and some shoving around, and Arthur is running running running and the screen zigs and zags from the pavement to the sky, with a blur of humanity in-between.

He hears gunshots.

Arthur's red and sweaty face comes into focus and he is saying how he and a handful of protesters are right now taking refuge in an alleyway, and he continues babbling about something or other as he turns the camera on the protesters, who look like hunter and prey simultaneously. He starts asking them questions in English, and they all jump in with answers, though in the end it's just this one guy talking, dominating by dint of his barely checked emotion. He's about Merlin's age, and he's struggling with English. He falls to repeating certain words and just saying them louder, gesticulating wildly, until finally his frustration reaches critical mass and he explodes into rapid Burmese about god knows what. Maybe about how the junta killed his brother, maybe about democracy, maybe about the future and maybe about the past. It's such a familiar story. But not the same story -- don't fall into that trap. If you consider yourself a good journalist or, hell, maybe even just a good person who listens and cares, don't fall into that trap. It's never the same story. Merlin has never covered the same story twice and he's proud of this.

"I'm constantly changing shirts and hats so they won't recognize me," Arthur says into the camera. As if a white person in Myanmar doesn't look out of place. A couple of foreign journalists have already been killed, many more have been attacked.

"Arthur," Gaius says into the phone later. "Come home. We have more than the bare minimum of excellent footage, thanks to you."

"Fuck off," says Arthur. "This thing is nowhere near over. I'm not going anywhere."

Merlin grabs the phone and says into it, "True 'cos you can't go anywhere if you're dead, you imbecile. Get yourself the fuck home."

"Merlin, is that you? Hand the phone back to Gaius."

So when Arthur least expects it, when he is sitting on his hotel bed spattering peanut sauce on the sheets from his chicken and veggie thing that he bought off a street vendor for dinner (he prides himself on never getting 'Delhi belly'), scribbling notes as he plays back the day's footage, there is a knock on the door. Arthur's first instinct is to PANIC because OH SHIT THE JUNTA HAVE COME TO TAKE HIM AWAY. But no. He looks through the eyehole and it's fucking Merlin. It's fucking Merlin with a duffel bag over one shoulder and more bags under his eyes.

"Don't believe Gaius, your camera work is fucking shoddy," Merlin says by way of greeting and explanation.

"Gaius was always full of shit," Arthur agrees, stepping aside to let Merlin in.


ummmm okay i'm just gonna go ahead and press 'post' now and answer the rest in another comment.