Angel Gilding

Chapter 2

Music: Begin to Hope (album)- Regina Spektor, Your Woman- White Town, New Perspective- Panic! at the Disco, You Will Lie- Small Sins, Do it Alone- Sugarcult, You Got a Friend in Me- Randy Newman, Window- Major Maker, On the Line- Small Sins.

A/N: I actually really like this chapter, long as it is. Is that egotistical? I should be working on Geography homework. Oh well. Er, as always- say nice things about me and I'll write much faster. Also, the music thing is just basically the stuff I listened to while writing this chapter. I also find it nice when fanfiction has a sort of soundtrack running through it, and this is mine.

(text block. bitch.)

xxxxxx

"Hey, this is your friendly neighborhood music geek. Here's the beep- leave me a message. Or not. And, uh. This is Merlin. -background laughter- Oh, shut your stupid face, Wi- BEEP."

"Merlin! Oh, hi. Okay. So. Thank you for leaving me the number. I have a question about babies? Apparently, Bennett doesn't know what I'm supposed to feed him, Warner, I mean, and- AVALON, THAT'S VERY DELICATE, PUT IT DOWN. Sorry to bug you. Fuck. I mean- darn. Don't repeat that, ever, guys, okay? Fu... ah, darn. Sorry. Bye. Okay."

"BEEP."

"Bugger this, I'm at the store, and I have no idea what sort of formula to buy. Soy? Is that bad? Is there like- a book I can buy? Oh god, I can't go to the bookstore, though, I left Avalon and Bennett at home with Warner. Being a dad is bloody fucking hard. God. Pick up your phone, you stupid prat. I need help."

"BEEP."

"Merlin! When am I supposed to sleep?"

"BEEP."

"Merlin, I-"

"BEEP."

"Merlin-"

"BEEP."

"Mer-lin!"

"BEEP."

Uttering a frustrated squeal, Arthur chucks his hand phone across his studio. It skitters across the wooden floor and comes to a stop beside a pile of broken glass. There seem to be a lot of those around the large room. A thin wail from upstairs signals that Warner is awake, and Arthur still has only a small semblance of an idea on how to feed him.

Avalon sweeps out of her room, shooting a dirty glare at Arthur, who cowers against the wall in fear. Jesus. At the very least, his studio/house had enough room for all three children. The first floor is the shop in front and the studio in back, with a locked doorway leading to the staircase. The kitchen and living room are on the second floor, as well as a bathroom and three bedrooms, and upstairs is an attic loft where Arthur sleeps.

He soon hears the reassuring sounds of Avalon feeding baby Warner. Arthur almost wants to peek in and get pointers, but the girl won't look at him properly, let alone speak to him. Bennett, on the other hand, has been perfectly pleasant since they arrived at lunch, complimenting Arthur's macaroni from a box, thanking Arthur for his room. And Arthur has barely seen Warner since they got here. He's almost frightened- hasn't even held him yet.

For some reason, Arthur's curious as to Avalon's room. He takes a quick look about, discovers she's with Warner, and slips in quietly. This is where Arthur used to have the study- it still kind of is. The bookcases still line the walls- apparently he's not supposed to rupture his stitches by moving anything. He hasn't made a trip to Ikea yet, and so his spare trundle bed lies in the middle of the room. Sacrificing his bed to Bennett seemed kind at the time- Arthur supposes he'll be populating the couch for a little while.

Avalon hasn't tacked up her countless art posters yet, a statement which reeks of "When are you going to paint this room a different color then bloody green?". Her iPod is thrown on the ugly covers of the trundle, set to Panic!At the Disco, a band which Arthur is unfamiliar with. Classic rock is more his style.

A picture of her dad is slapped on the desk. Probably an attempt to intimidate him, Arthur reasons. But he can't help the twist in his chest as he looks into Owain's loyal olive eyes. Another woman is twisted around him, smiling beautifully. She has Avalon's long red hair, and Bennett's pale skin tone. Arthur reaches out and touches her with a fingertip. Gently. It's nothing more then smooth photo paper.

Footsteps sound from around the corner, and Arthur yanks his hand away from the photograph, placing them innocently behind his back. Avalon's scowling face appears in the doorway. "I need to unpack my clothes." She says haughtily, ripping the tape off a cardboard box and rifling through. White and pale yellow prevail from Arthur's side glimpse. "So, uh- what color do you want this room painted?" Arthur says poiletly.

Avalon doesn't pause in her sorting. "Do you really think we'll be here that long?" She sneers. Arthur is taken aback. "Well- you're legally my children. So- yes."

The teenager freezes. "Nobody told me that." Collapsing onto the trundle bed, Avalon gasps. "You're not a foster parent?"

Arthur shakes his head, sitting down next to her. "No." He says quietly. "In fact, this is as weird and unwilling for me as it is for you." Avalon shakes her head, pulling on the ends of her hair. "Man, I thought it was weird there weren't any other kids here. And that you didn't even touch Warner. But- I'm staying here? Forever?"

Arthur nods hesitantly. "I- I knew your father. He was an assistant in my glass shop. You probably knew that, but- yeah. Until you turn eighteen, I guess." The girl looks frightened. And scared. And vulnerable. Arthur risks a shoulder pat. Awkwardly, Avalon smiles slightly.

And as Arthur goes to leave, the girl utters a single word. "Blue."

"Pardon?"

She offers a shaky half smile. "Paint this room blue. Please."

xxxxx

Around dinner, Arthur orders a takeout pizza and they eat in the living room, the teenagers absorbed in some idiotic high school comedy, Arthur with his earphones in, lounging on the couch. Draping the blanket over him, he settles in for the night.

"Sleep well, Arthur." Bennett announces, gathering his various sketches from the wooden floor. "You too." Arthur says back absently. A few minutes later, Avalon turns in and Arthur is left to the sounds of AC/DC and an empty house. It's only nine and there's absolutely nothing to do except listen to music. Sleep is impossible until at least one. Fitfully, Arthur turns on the television to Mythbusters before remembering- Merlin said he wasn't supposed to watch telly.

Merlin! Arthur thinks. Brilliant. Whipping out his ancient mobile (he's got the funds to replace it, but ol' Valiant works just fine), Arthur whacks out a message and presses send.

To: Merlin Emrys

Oi, prat. I could use a pint and another chapter of Two Towers. Come over for a bit?

-Arthur

His thumbs lingering on the keypad, Arthur realizes that Merlin hasn't picked up a single one of his calls. The vibration in his pocket startles him, and Arthur snaps open his phone so eagerly it slides out of his hands and falls to the floor. There's a whole bit where he has to scrabble under the couch for the battery, but eventually Arthur plugs it back in and waits impatiently for Valiant to turn on.

From: Merlin Emrys

Double prat, my phone's been out of battery all day. I'll be there in a half hour. Also, you can't drink, it'll hurt your head.

-Merlin

xxxxx

True to his word, Merlin does show up. But not a half hour later- it's nearly ten by the time the tell tale rap comes at the door. Arthur dashes down the stairs as fast as he can, provided his crap leg. He takes a minute to sort out his hair and dark t-shirt for some reason. Arthur's heart is thumping in his chest and there's a queasy sort of feeling in the pit of his stomach. Swinging the door open, the first thing Arthur notices is that Merlin's in uniform.

"You work this late?" Arthur says in disbelief. Merlin barks out a short laugh and pushes past him into the shop. "Well, hi to you too." He shoves the bag he's carrying into Arthur's arms and strides up the stairs in the back. "Wait- Merlin-" Arthur struggles to hold the bag, his phone, and dear god, why is his heart still pounding?

"Clotpole, oi. You're late." Arthur tries. Merlin turns around and arches an eyebrow into the impossible darkness of his hair. It makes the contours of his neck, and his collarbone- which looks- oh dear god, delicious in that shirt- stand out even more. Arthur swallows uselessly.

"Whatever happened to manners? I even bought you a present. Open the bag." Merlin says, sitting on Arthur's stairs with a soft sigh. He crosses one thin leg over the other and waits expectantly. Arthur draws out a book from the slick plastic. "What to Expect: The First Year." Smiling, Arthur looks up at Merlin, who is nervously biting the webbing between his finger and thumb.

"Thanks." Arthur begins, but Merlin cuts him off. "I thought we could read it. Or, I could read it to you. As you can't quite read yet." Arthur can't help smiling at the shy, hesitant look on Merlin's face. For all his big words and insults, Merlin isn't much more then a child himself. "That sounds nice." Arthur says softly.

And it turns out it is. Merlin stretches his lanky frame across the floor and reads aloud on bottle feeding and diaper changing and laughs at the pictures sometimes before showing Arthur. His laugh is kind of- weird. Merlin tends to crinkle his nose and snort before dissolving into helpless giggles. Like a child. Weird, but cute, Arthur thinks as Merlin shows him a picture of a fat woman breast-feeding a black baby.

"So much for maturity." Arthur mutters. Merlin makes a mock sad face. "Prick. I am wounded. I am very mature. Heh. Mammary gland." A foot nudges Arthur in the side and he looks down at Merlin's purple and black polka dotted sock. "Nice choice, by the way."

"Shut up, prat."

"Clotpole."

"Sock monkey." Merlin attempts. Arthur smirks. "How on earth is sock monkey an insult?" The other man opens his mouth to retort, but is interrupted by a keening wail.

"Fuck. That'll be Warner." Arthur mutters, setting down his drink. Merlin shrugs it off. "Hey, we're ready. I'll get the formula?" He suggests. Arthur nods, creaking open the door to Warner's room.

"Hey, buddy." He whispers, leaning down to the pulled out drawer Warner is sleeping in. Alarmed, Arthur stands back up. The baby isn't crying. Rather, the wail is coming from Avalon's room. Skidding in his socks, Arthur rushes down the hall and pushes open the door.

"What's happening?" Arthur demands. The girl is dressed in a plain white nightgown and is cowering against the opposite side of the room, off the trundle bed and on the carpeted floor. Avalon is trembling and crying, albeit a bit quieter.

When Arthur takes a step towards her, though, her screams become more acute. Lost, he sits back, breathing heavily and panicking. Merlin rushes into the room, black hair sticking up at funny angles over his ears, blue eyes dark with panic. "I went into Warner's room and-"

Spotting Avalon, Merlin's eyes light with recognition. He thrusts the bottle at Arthur and moves slowly over to her. Like she's an animal he's trying not to startle. "Shh." He soothes, rubbing her back. The girl flinches at the touch, but soon settles, wails disappearing into sobs.

Arthur's watching incredulously from the corner of the room, fiddling with his collar. When Avalon calms down completely, nothing but hiccups coming from her mouth, Merlin helps her to her feet. "What about a cup of tea, okay?" He asks quietly, and she sneezes and nods in response. Leading her with the hand still on her back, Merlin settles her onto the couch and walks to the kitchen, a befuddled Arthur in tow.

"What the hell was that?" He hisses, flinging an arm in Avalon's general direction. "Should we take her to the hospital? What if she's ill?" Merlin shakes his head, his smile quirking the edge of his mouth. Water fills Arthur's teapot (how did he find that?) as he talks.

"They're called panic attacks. And look who's getting all concerned parent on me." Merlin turns to Arthur, wiping his hands on his jeans. "Look, I used to get them a lot after..." He trails off, absently biting a thumbnail.

"After what?" Arthur inquires, curious, but Merlin shakes his head. "Just... after. Anyways, she'll be fine. If it happens again, just do what I did. Try and calm her down." He consults his watch, biting his lip. "I should really go."

And suddenly a wave of panic grips Arthur. As though if this man leaves him, nothing will ever be right again. "Stay." He says suddenly. "Just for the night. There's a sleeping bag in Bennett's room. Just- please."

Hesitantly, Merlin tucks his hand in the pocket, and the watch away. Yes, Arthur think with relief. "I would get fired if they knew I was here. The hospital doesn't like fraternizing with patients post- release."

"For god's sake, I'm not trying to sleep with you." Arthur snaps. Although... "Could I, though?" He asks coyly, only half-joking.

Merlin snorts. "Never, Pendragon. All right. Point me in the direction of aforementioned Warner's room?" Arthur points to the right and Merlin nods, only stopping to hand Avalon her cup of tea and give her a little reassuring pat.

Arthur watches Merlin walk down the hall in his too big button down shirt and those terrible jeans, feeling a weird twist in the pit of his stomach. He turns to Avalon to find the girl has a smirk on her face, sipping her tea.

"You fancy him." Avalon states in a hoarse voice. Arthur flushes, twisting his hands in his sleeping shirt. "I utterly completely do not." He hisses. "And besides, wouldn't be any of your business if I did! Which I don't! And shut up. He'll hear." He adds hastily.

Avalon shrugs. "I wouldn't mind if you did. He's very pretty. You could be pretty together. Shagging." She adds with a mischevious grin. "I don't fancy blokes, little missy." Arthur says, regaining his calm. "And if I did, he would be a lot prettier then Merlin." Arthur repeats disdainfully.

But as for the rest of the night, he can't help those words from echoing 'round the inside of his head, prohibiting sleep or even peace of mind.

"Never, Pendragon. Never, Pendragon. Never. Pendragon."

xxxxx

"Arthur." The glassblower bolts up from the couch, nearly smacking Merlin in the face. Merlin rubs the side of his head and gazes at Arthur ruefully. "What?" Arthur hisses, flinging the covers off and standing up. Avalon is long gone by now, having took to her own bed, but Arthur can hear that keening wail again.

"For fuck's sake-" He moans, moving to go to Avalon's room, but Merlin stops him. "I checked, it's Warner this time." A bottle is thrust into Arthur's hands and he looks at it questioningly. "I thought I'd help you feed him?"

"At least Bennett sleeps through the night, there's a good lad." Arthur grumbles, sitting on the floor of Warner's room with a sigh. It's devoid of furniture, being the only room in the house Arthur never really found anything to put in. Merlin very nearly stumbles over the wardrobe door holding a wailing baby. "'s all right." He coos, picking up the child and rocking him back and forth.

"Little siblings?" Arthur asks knowingly. Merlin shakes his head, fixated on Warner's brown eyes. "Grew up in a foster home with younger children for a good bit of my life." Awkwardly, Arthur tries to discover the right words to say, but comes up with a lame "Oh."

"Here, pass me the bottle." Merlin makes a swipe for it, but misses, sending it to the floor. Arthur watches dismally as it bursts into a thousand pieces. "I have cleaned up more glass in the past twenty four hours then I've cleaned up in my bloody life." He groans, still sleep addled. Merlin turns crimson and apologizes profusely.

When they've finally got another bottle, Merlin's carried Warner into the living room and settled with him in his arms, he looks expectantly up at Arthur through his long, dark eyelashes. "Do you want to hold him?"

Arthur stammers and stalls, shifting from one foot to the other. Rolling his eyes, Merlin demonstrates.

"It's really quite easy." He says superiorly, cradling Warner in one arm. "Here. Lift your arms, like you're holding a football. Mind his head!"

Merlin transfers the fussy baby into Arthur's arms, and Arthur's surprised by how delicate the weight of Warner is in his arms. The baby stops his hungry crying for a moment to look up at Arthur curiously with those large, dark eyes.

"Erm..." Arthur whispers, enchanted. "Hullo."

The absence of a giggling snort from Merlin tells him that the other man is enraptured as well. His long, slight fingers are splayed across Arthur's forearm, and they both stay there for a minute too long, peering into Warner's face. Arthur pretends he isn't calculating how fast the pulse through Merlin's fingers is, pretends he doesn't notice the way Merlin's leg is touching his, pretends that this is normal.

A impatient cry from Warner startles both men. Merlin jerks his hands away and Arthur supresses a complaint at the loss. "I guess we've deprived the poor child of food long enough." Merlin says in that funny irish accent. Arthur nods, sliding the bottle into Warner's mouth. He suckles gratefully.

"So, er- how long have you been working at the hospital?" Arthur says, attempting a stab at conversation.

Merlin lounges against the back of a big green chair, closing his eyes. He's still in his uniform of a button down shirt and jeans, but thankfully has removed those ratty Converse. "Since I graduated university, so- two years?"

"You're twenty four, then."

Merlin cracks open one eyes to look at Arthur. "Yeah. You?"

"Twenty-six."

"Older man." Merlin teases lightly.

"Prat."

"Double prat."

"Triple prat."

"Super prat."

"...that was low. Even for an infinite prat like you."

"Nice."

"I know." Merlin says smugly, resting his head against the back of his chair and letting sleep take him.

xxxxxx

Warner doesn't exactly sleep through the night- or at all, really. He wails and Arthur walks him around the house, patting his back and soothing, but nothing seems to work. Around eight, Warner falls asleep from pure exhaustion and Arthur attempts to do the same, but every time he tries to put him back, Warner wakes up and Arthur has to begin the same cycle again.

With barely four hours of sleep, Arthur's struggling just to keep his eyes open and wondering why nobody's woken and yelled at him yet. Merlin's still sacked out in the chair, and steady breaths are coming from Avalon's room. He's surprisingly- bored.

"Bennett?" Arthur whispers up the stairs. "You awake, mate?" A non-commital "Yup." from his room tells Arthur the boy is, indeed, awake. "Want to have a chat?"

A bleary eyed Bennett peers down the stairs, brown hair mussed. "Yeah." As he emerges, Arthur can see he's clad in Arthur's too big dark green t-shirt and his plaid pajama pants. Nervously, Bennett tugs on the shirt. "I borrowed some of your clothes. Didn't think you'd mind."

"Why don't you have your own things?" Arthur asks. Bennett shrugs. "They let you take one box and one suitcase into foster care. And that's essentially where we were while you were in the hospital."

"Can't we get your things back?" Arthur say incredulously. Bennett shakes his head bitterly. "No. They throw them out. Otherwise the hotels they kept us in temporarily would be too crowded with our shit. Er, stuff." He amends.

Arthur takes out his mobile and begins furiously texting Morgana with one hand, shaking his head as he does so. "Well, I'll take you out. We'll buy clothes and books and beds and such."

"Thanks." Bennett says, barely audible. The couch compresses as he flops down on it. "You look ridiculous in those pajamas, by the way." A barely awake Merlin mumbles.

"Did we wake you?" Arthur says, voice dripping with fake concern. Merlin flings a cushion at him, barely missing Warner. "Watch!" Arthur hisses, clutching the baby close.

"I bet I can get him into bed." Merlin announces, gathering Warner into his arms carefully. The baby surprisingly doesn't stir.

"Er, Merlin. I've got a meeting with the superintendant of the school board later today. Would you like to come?" Arthur suggests lightly, really, really hoping the answer is yes.

"I've been wearing the same clothes for almost a full day." Merlin emerges from Warner's room, mussing the back of his hair even more then it already is. "I'll have to stop by my apartment. You could drive me there, if you're feeling particularly friendly." He says, grinning broadly.

"Are you guys married yet?" Bennett questions, reaching for his glass of water. Arthur freezes, as does Merlin. "I- I- NO. UM. Merlin is a- friend- and-" He babbles, desperately trying to keep a hold on his sanity. Merlin just stands there, blushing.

"I have to go to the bathroom." Arthur blurts, getting to his feet. Once he's safely locked inside the room, he breathes out heavily, staring into the mirror. He looks like crap. The combination of little sleep and Merlin-induced nerves has gotten to him. The normally tanned, clear skin is flushed red and covered in pocket creases from his pillow. Arthur rests both hands on the counter, trying to stabilize his thoughts.

Everyone bloody thinks we're together. And we aren't. And as far as I know, I don't want us to be. It just- makes a bloke awkward. That must be it. All the blushing and such. And he's around because, well, you need some help and he's very good with children. Yes. That's it.

Convinced, Arthur splashes his face with cold water and throws on some new clothes. He nearly runs into a scowling Avalon on his way out. Her narrow frame is already clad in clothes for the day, a white t-shirt with lace sleeves and dark, fitted jeans.

Peering around the doorway into the living room, Arthur discovers that Merlin and Bennett are already immersed in conversation.

"-Arthur-" Merlin begins, and Arthur flattens himself to the wall, attempting to catch more of the conversation.

"I'm sorry I thought the two of you were together." Bennett says, embaressed.

Merlin laughs. Not his giggly, snorting laugh, but an almost... grown up laugh. "I doubt it. From what I've heard of the infamous Arthur Pendragon, he's as straight as they come."

"I don't have a problem with blokes shagging blokes." Bennett clarifies in a soft tone. "I know you're-" He pauses. "Well. You are, yeah?"

Arthur can almost hear the gentle smile in Merlin's voice. "I honestly don't know what I am. Work keeps me far too busy for a relationship. I work two jobs to support myself and my mother in Ealdor. Maybe in the future, when things aren't quite so tight."

"Are you sticking around, then?" Bennett asks shyly. "Because, well. You're good with Warner and it's nice to have someone who likes music around. Mr Pendrag- Arthur, seems a bit like he doesn't- want me around."

Merlin sighs. "He does, Bennett. It's just a bit of a shock for him. For you all. Tell you what, I'll stick around here as long as Arthur allows it. I was assigned to take care of him at the hospital, after all. Why should it be any different out here. Now, I do believe we were headed to my flat- Arthur?" He shouts.

Arthur steps out from behind the doorway, carefully smoothing his collar. "Yeah?" He asks nonchalantly, smoothing the fabric of his black, long sleeved shirt. Merlin's staring at his muscles through the fabric and Arthur catches his gaze, grinning as Merlin's ears turn red.

"Morgana should be here in twenty minutes, grab some breakfast and Bennett, for the love of god- get dressed!" Arthur orders, and everyone scrambles to get something to eat, sock feet sliding on the wooden floor in the process.

As Bennett and Avalon fight for the last bit of milk Arthur has in the fridge, Merlin murmurs in his ear: "I thought you and your sister-"

"Step-sister." Arthur says sharply.

"Right," Says Merlin, twisting his hands anxiously. "I thought she was no good with children."

"Oh no. She's got a brat. Two, in fact. Modred and Morgause. Little sappy naming thing. Well, I suppose they aren't hers, they're my half brother and half sister from my dad, but she's practically raised them. Morgana should be fine with Warner for a couple hours."

The doorbell rings and Merlin drops his toast, running to the door. It bangs open and Morgana strides in, raising an eyebrow icily. She's a striking and terrifying woman, clad in a deep blue dress which cascades down her slim body. It compares wonderfully to her black hair, and every time she walks in a room, even Arthur is taken aback by her beauty.

"Hello, Arthur." She says pleasantly, sweeping through the door with a stony faced Mordred, dressed in a miniature business suit. "Brother." Modred says cordially, extending a hand. Arthur sweeps him up in a hug instead, and he squirms. "Brother, you are mussing my suit." He says calmly, and so Arthur sets him down, mussing his hair.

"Morgause isn't here?" Arthur asks, giving his stepsister an one armed hug. "She's got a date with some boy she met in archery. Uther is very unpleased. Is this your-"

Morgana trails off, gazing at Merlin.

"Er. Hello." He says, offering an hand. "Not boyfriend, sorry to disappoint."

"Shame." Mordred says brightly. "You would look very appealing together."

Arthur spits out his tea.

xxxxx

"I like Morgana." Avalon announces as Arthur pulls out of the driveway in his shining silver Camaro. "You would." He snorts, checking his rearview mirror. Bennett, having won the battle with Merlin for front seat, points out an outlet mall to their right. Pulling into the parking lot, Arthur sighs.

"Got the shopping list?"

"Right here." Merlin says cheerfully, brandishing the list Avalon's scribed. "Let's see." Arthur demands, grabbing the list out of Merlin's hands. Merlin chucks a pencil from the backseat at Arthur's head. It bounces off and makes a small mark on the list, which Arthur reads aloud.

Warner

More formula, more bottles (because Merlin breaks things), toys and such, a carrier, a swing, a crib. Bloody boring.

Avalon

Clothes, bed, feminine... things... (Merlin can buy them with me, but Arthur's not allowed in), jewelry, mobile.

Bennett

Clothes, bed, mobile.

"Divide and conquer?" Bennett suggests, opening the door for Merlin, who clambers out gratefully. "I don't want you getting lost-" Arthur begins hesitantly, but Merlin taps his pocket. "I've got my mobile, you can just call."

His hair sticks up from his speed shower. Merlin's wearing a plaid shirt, no doubt a gift from Uncle Gaius, and wrinkled jeans, and a ratty pair of trainers. Funnily, the hospitable Merlin didn't allow them inside his flat, making excuses about "the mess" and making them wait outside. The landing smelled of chicken soup and stale biscuits.

"So, er- Avalon had better come with me. You're not allowed to buy feminine things." He advises Arthur, who sticks his tongue out. "All right, then, Bennett, we'll just have to get on fine without the women."

"Prat." Merlin says endearingly, taking the credit card that Arthur tosses at him.

"You know you like it."

xxxxxx

To: Arthur Pendragon (prat)

Hey, what's your limit? How much money can I spend on Avalon?

From: Arthur Pendragon (prat)

No limit. It's right out of the company fund, you can spend however much she wants.

To: Arthur Pendragon (prat)

this is avalon. srsly? i can buy anything i want?

From: Arthur Pendragon (prat)

Merlin has veto power. Buy the things you need first. I texted Merlin the PIN earlier.

To: Arthur Pendragon (prat)

fucking sweet.

From: Arthur Pendragon (prat)

Indeed. There are certain perks to being Uther Pendragon's son. DON'T BUY THE MALL. SHOW THAT MESSAGE TO MERLIN.

xxxxx

"What exactly does super absorbent mean?" Merlin asks curiously. A woman in the aisle shoots him a dirty look. Avalon grabs the box from him, shoving it in their basket.

"I don't know either." She says guiltily. "I only really had dad to do this with me." Avalon pauses in her poking about. Too proud to let Merlin see her tears, she turns her head away with a sniffle.

"I'm sorry." Merlin states gently. "I know what it's like to lose a father. My dad died when I was about your age. But you have your brothers, and you have Arthur now."

"Fat lot of good that does me." Avalon grimaces. "He barely speaks to me. I don't even know what Pendragon Industries is, let alone what Arthur does. I don't know why he won't look me in the eye, and I don't know why I freaked out last night. I don't know who's going to take care of me. I'm completely in the dark."

Her voice cracks. Merlin, sensing the tenderness, reaches down and takes her hand in his, squeezing it gently.

"Pendragon Industries runs most of the high class resturaunts in Britain. Arthur works as a glassblower, even though he really doesn't have to, and he won't be working for a while with hands like his. He won't look you in the eye because he feels guilty about what happened to your dad. You freaked out- it's understandable. Your nightmare got the best of you, and your life is pretty scary right now. Arthur will take care of you, and I will too. It's all going to be okay." He reassures, his stomach lurching at the fact that ten years ago, this was him.

Avalon doesn't smile, but she forces the upset off her face. Her features smooth and she picks up the basket again, running down the aisle to the make-up. "Could I buy some? I wouldn't know how to put it on, but-"

"Grey would look pretty with your skin tone." Merlin muses, rifling through the bin with one hand. He holds up an eyeliner tube to compare. "You wear mostly white and blue, right?"

Avalon raises an eyebrow and Merlin realizes how stupid he must look. "My best friend Gwen used to make me pick out things for her and her friends. My mum, too. Add being an artist to the mix, and- yeah." He says, cheeks turning red.

"That's your second job?" Avalon inquires, chucking various colors of nail varnish into the basket Merlin is now holding. Orange, silver, pale pink, blue-

"No. I work as a janitor at a museum during the day. I do art in my "spare" time, mostly advertising commissions. It's more fun then my other two jobs. Good thing this is my weekend and I'm off, at least for a bit."

"Why do you need so much money?"

"I take care of my mum. Most of my money goes to making sure she's all right. Her hospital bills get pretty big." Merlin casts his eyes down. "That's why I live in such a shabby place."

"You wouldn't let us in because you were ashamed?" Avalon shoves the basket at the cashier, pausing to grab a box of Smarties. "Arthur isn't ashamed of you, Merlin. He cares about you."

"We've known each other for all of five minutes." Merlin says as they walk out with their purchases. "He didn't have time to care about me. I just- everyone needs someone to look after them. Protect them, yeah? And Arthur just needs a friend right now. That's all. He doesn't care for me."

"Beg to differ." Avalon drawls thickly, swinging her bag around one arm.

xxxxx

"Merlin's meeting us at the food court in thirty minutes." Arthur announces, arrogantly sweeping his hair off his forehead. Bennett's been left to carry the brunt of the bags, containing mostly dark, simple clothes- jeans and navy shirts and such, but a cell phone (a black Nokia for long texts to Merlin) lies on top of the pile.

"Anything else you want?" Arthur says briskly. The quiet boy nods. "Could we maybe- get some books?" He ventures. "Not a lot. I mean- I mostly brought old family pictures and my dad's things. I left all my books behind."

"What do you like to read?" Arthur asks, and with that one question, he knows he's cracked Bennett. A happy grin spreads slowly across his face and he begins to prattle on about various series and such, from J.D. Salinger to Terry Pratchett.

"Fabulous." Arthur says absently, checking his phone for texts from Merlin. "Let's buy them all."

He looks up to an incredulous Bennett. "Do you really mean it? I can get whatever I want?"

"I'm rich, Bennett. I- we can buy whatever we want."

Twenty minutes later, Bennett is just finishing browsing the local Barnes and Nobles. Every time he starts actually looking at a book, Arthur grabs it out of his hands and simply slams it on the steadily growing pile. "Chump change."

When the bill comes, Bennett turns white and starts to apologize, but Arthur waves it off, instructing for the books to be delivered to the house. "I guess it's a good thing I've all those bookshelves in this house." He says, smiling ruefully.

Then Bennett does something that surprises Arthur. A lot. Setting down his bags, he buries his head in Arthur's shoulder and hugs him. Astounded, Arthur pats him on the back gently. "Thanks." He says, slightly muffled.

Arthur turns red, not used to the praise. "C'mon, scholar. Let's head back and see how the furniture deliverers are getting on."

Bennett picks up his bags, and the four of them smile all the way home.

xxxxx

A/N: This chapter was actually going to be longer, but I had to break up the bloody text. So I'm still writing for the rest of tonight, and it's only nine, so- look forward to more soon. Sorry it ended so abruptly, and as always- review!