A/N: Hi all! Welcome to my debut! This is my first story EVER, and I hope to make it a long one. This can only be done with the help of you lovely readers. Your reviews are what I will judge this story on. Please give me constructive criticism. Flames will be ignored. Let me know if you like the way this story is headed, or if it even makes sense.

Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin or Star Trek.

Warnings: This is a Male/Male BROMANE TO THE EXTREME! fic. If you are not into that, please exit to your left. Thank you.


Being the child that he was, Merlin didn't understand all the things that influenced his life. He didn't know why his father was locked up in jail, never to be seen again, nor did he understand the jeers and sneers that were constantly sent his way by the people of his small village. The name "Half Breed" spat at him like a poison.

What he did understand though, was that his mother, Hunith, was a kind and loving person who was struggling just to keep stale bread on the table. Hunith would work all day and half the night, washing clothes, cooking, and cleaning for the people in the Upper Town. Life was especially hard for her due to the fact that she is a human, the mother of a half breed, and the temptress who caused one of the Drakkon people's beloved Drakkon Lords to fall from grace.

The Drakkon are a proud people, one of the most advanced in the galaxy. The center of their civilization is The Empire, a gleaming city full of life and technology. Around The Empire exist small villages that become poorer and less technologically endowed the further out they go. Generally, the furthest villages are where outcasts are sent. One of the furthest villages form The Empire is Ealdor, the very place Hunith was banished to after the birth of her son. The rest of the village is comprised of the descendants of some of the worst criminals known to the Drakkon.

Due to her unfavorable status, Merlin's mother rarely had time for him, but Merlin didn't get angry, like an Earth child would. He welcomed her home at the end of the day with a smile and a hug; and during the day, he hid away from the taunting voices of the villagers.

But then came the day that his mother didn't wake him up at dawn to greet the day. Little Merlin woke up all on his own to the sound of the market and the crowds it attracted. Worried, he made his way across the room to the straw mattress his mother slept on.

Instantly, Merlin knew something was not right. His mother's face was too pale, the bags under her eyes too prominent. Panicked, Merlin ran to the only neighbor who didn't seem to hate them due to the fact that Hunith had saved the woman's sick child.

Merlin slammed his small fist on Mrs. Pika's door until it rattled in its frame.

Footsteps from inside the house could be heard followed by an annoyed Mrs. Pika. "I'm coming, I'm coming. What in the blazes could be so important that you had to be so rude, boy?"

"Please, please come quickly! It's mother – she won't wake up!" cried a terrified Merlin.

"Alright son, let's go see what is wrong."

From this point on, a scared, helpless Merlin could only watch as Mrs. Pika looked over his mother and declared her case severe. The next day, men from The Empire arrived to take Hunith to a clinic and young Merlin to a Home for children with no parents or parents who are invalids.

It didn't take long for Merlin to realize that all the caretakers at this Home hated him. He is a half-breed; a stain on their planet's perfect lineage.

It wasn't until the second week that the abuse started. First it was the other children who taunted and played tricks on him. He would find his mattress soiled or his food overturned onto his head. Soon after, the caretakers began to abuse him. Any wrong action could land him locked in a closet with no food, or beaten within an inch of his tolerance. Soon, there was no need for an excuse. At any time, a caretaker would take him away to lash him with a belt until he would begin to bleed from multiple gashes on his back and upper arms.

This treatment quickly became the norm for a growing Merlin. His only comfort was Will, the only soul in that wretched home who cared even a sliver for the poor boy. Will would help him clean his wounds and held him when he cried. But as they aged and the beatings became worse, both boys knew that Merlin had to escape before one of the Caretakers took things too far and ended up killing him.

Late into the night, when Merlin was unable to sleep due to pain, the boys would plot and plan and bide their time until the moment was just right for getting Merlin away from this place and on to safety.