Chapter 3

"Magic, sorcery, whatever you want to call it. The world hides it really well these days, but it's still there, under the surface."

Merlin tugged at his chains, clearly itching to smack Arthur in the face.

"Christ, Arthur. Don't bullshit me. Not now."

Arthur sighed. "I don't know how I can make you believe me. It doesn't make sense. Fuck, nothing in our lives ever does. Just… let me tell you the whole story, and don't call me a liar til I'm done."

Merlin sat back on his heals. "So you can tell me a fairy story? Screw that, if you won't tell me what's happening I'll find my own damn way out."

He pulled at the cuffs around his wrists, already feeling the skin growing raw under their hold. His eyes scanned the room, looking for any structural weaknesses, perhaps even a piece of metal to pick the lock on the door. Arthur watched him with a kind of depressed amusement.

"The cuffs aren't going to break anytime soon," he said, holding up his own bloody wrist to illustrate the point. Merlin swallowed, eyes narrowing in anger at the blood dripping down his companion's arm.

"And that door's dead-bolted from the outside," he continued, nodding to the door.

Merlin blew out all the remaining air in his lungs. His voice became very small. "So what happens to us then?"

Arthur looked at him, frowning. "We can't do anything until they come back."

Merlin slumped, drawing his knees into his chest.

Arthur leaned forward, protectiveness curling in his belly. "Merlin, I swear to God, I won't let them hurt you. You hear me?"

"Oh good," said Merlin, his voice sounding a little hysterical. "And what exactly are you going to do?"

"I'll take them out when they come for us," he smiled at Merlin's disbelieving face. "Trust me, I've been in way worse situations before. The thing about Morgause, and every two-bit wannabe villain like her, is they always make a mistake. They think they've got everything covered, but there's always some factor they didn't consider, some opening they forgot to cover." Arthur gave Merlin a steely look of determination. "I'll find it, I swear to you, and when I do, I'm going to end this. I'm going to keep you safe."

Merlin looked into Arthur's eyes, and for a moment, against his better judgement, he believed him.

"Arthur! Your fuck-ugly shaggin' wagon is parked in front of my car and if you don't move the damn thing so I can leave this hell-hole of an apartment I'm going to set it on fire and roll it into a lake!"

Arthur lifted his head from his patch of drool on the couch cushion and slowly rolled himself into a sitting position.

"Hey, don't knock the Lady Catrina," He mumbled. "She could flatten your car in an instant."

Merlin threw a cushion at him, hitting him in the face, and causing his hangover to blossom into full stampeding rhinoceros mode. He groaned.

"That truck is an angry, constipated stegosaurus on wheels. Why the hell give it that name anyway?"

Arthur smirked to himself. "Reminded me of a dear old friend of my father's."

Merlin rolled his eyes. "Yeah? Well, move the fucking thing or I'll…"

"What the fuck is with all the screaming?" came a frustrated voice from upstairs. With pained, clearly unsteady steps, the rumpled form of Morgana emerged from the staircase.

"Arthur's goddamn fossil of a truck has parked me in and I need coffee before the whole bloody world caves in," groused Merlin.

"Arthur, move your fucking car so Merlin will stop whining like a little bitch."

Merlin made a grunt of protest but Morgana shot him a withering look, which was somehow only enhanced by her tangled hair and bloodshot eyes.

Arthur groaned, pulling himself up from the lounge and scooping his keys off the counter.

"Fine, I need coffee too anyway."

"Good," said Morgana, turning back to the stairs. "Then maybe I can get some sleep without you two hellions bellowing at each other in my apartment."

"I wasn't bellowing!" protested Arthur, but Morgana waved him off.

"And can you take the wine bottles out to the trash on the way?"

Arthur glanced at the rather impressive hoard of glass bottles lined up on the counter, shuddering a little as his hangover greeted its mummy.

Merlin pulled a few bags from under the sink and began loading the bottles up, handing one bag to Arthur. The two of them left the apartment, dropping the bottles in the recycling with a clatter that sent nails driving into Arthur's skull.

"We… may have overdone it last night," said Merlin, rubbing his temples, to which Arthur huffed out a harsh laugh that left his stomach twisting in on itself.

"Come on," he said, herding his companion to the monstrous truck in the driveway. Merlin baulked.

"But if I leave mine here I'll be forced to come back and face Morticia in there!"

Arthur laughed, holding the door open for his friend. "You know perfectly well that by the time we come back she'll be perfectly fucking composed and will probably have a stack of pancakes waiting. I swear she's immune to hangovers."

"And too damn nice for her own good," said Merlin with a fond smile.

Arthur grinned, climbing into the driver's seat. "That too."

They drove the whole way in silence, and it was not until both had a latte big enough to swim in that either felt the compulsion to talk.

"The world makes sense again," sighed Merlin, his voice sounding just a touch too pleasured to be appropriate.

"Now, now, Merlin. It's not polite to orgasm in public."

Merlin coloured, but grinned.

"I'll not let you're cultural prejudices bind me."

Arthur chuckled, quietly taking in the atmosphere of The Lady Cappuccino.

"So," he began. "How's the job search going?"

Merlin groaned.

"You know, when I started a Literature degree the complete lack of employability seemed like a funny joke."

Arthur smirked.

"Still feel like laughing?"

Merlin threw him a dirty look, taking a long drag of his coffee.

"I've been stuck at the same crappy retail store since graduation. You realise my pompous, stick-up-his-arse manager is actually two years younger than me?" he lamented, throwing his head back in despair.

Arthur chuckled. "Sounds awful. What have you told your parents you're doing?"

Merlin peered at him in confusion. "Crappy retail. What did you think I'd tell them?"

Arthur shrugged. "I don't know. They're so proud of you for what you did at uni and half the time you seem really embarrassed about your job. I thought you might have hidden how the world took a crap on your prospects."

Merlin shook his head.

"Nah, I hate lies. Especially the big ones."

Arthur looked at him in interest. "Really?"

"Sure," said Merlin, shrugging. "It's not that I can't. I've actually got quite the knack for it. But I like being honest."

"How very moralistic of you," said Arthur, face a little blank.

"It's not that," contradicted Merlin. "It's just, I have a great connection with my family, and the people who stick around even when I'm a stark bastard often turn out to be really great friends. I think you lose a lot of that if you waste time hiding bits of yourself. Even if you do it to protect yourself or stop the people around you worrying."

Arthur's face had turned a little stony. "I guess it helps that there's nothing you really need to hide."

Merlin smiled. "I'm pretty lucky that way. No murderous grudges, no terminal illnesses, no spectacularly deviant fetishes."

"Sounds… freeing," said Arthur.

Merlin looked at him curiously. "You sound dubious."

Arthur took a sip of his coffee, looking thoughtful. "I'm just not sure I could do that. Be totally open, or whatever."

Merlin watched him, a small smile curling his mouth. "Maybe not, but if you're ever ready to give it a go, I can take whatever you dish out."

Arthur cocked an eyebrow at him.

"Well, maybe not," amended Merlin. "I have no idea what goes on in the deep, dark recesses of your mind. But I can promise to listen and only make fun of you when it's particularly hilarious."

Arthur stared at him, and chuckled. "I'll keep that in mind."

"Do," said Merlin decisively. "I am an awesome sounding board and can make an excellent soothing tea for when you finally decide you want to break down like a weeping man-child."

"Hey!" said Arthur, flicking a napkin at him. Merlin laughed at him, but then his face softened into a genuine smile.

"Really, though," he said. "If ever…."

"Yeah," said Arthur, a fond expression settling on his features. "Maybe one day."

The two went back to sipping their oversized coffees, Merlin pointedly ignoring the warmth pooling in his cheeks.

Arthur surreptitiously gazed at his companion, assessing him. He was about to redirect the conversation into less sappy waters when he heard his name from across the room.

"Arthur! There you are."

Arthur looked around to the newcomer in surprise.

"Gwen! What are you doing here?"

The sweet-faced brunette picked her way between the tables, smiling.

"You haven't been answering your email in weeks, so I gave Morgana a ring and she said you'd be here."

"Sorry," apologised Arthur, suddenly very tense for no reason that Merlin could discern. "I keep forgetting to check and my phone died last week."

Gwen offered him a small smile. "I thought that must be it. You're never out of contact long."

"I promise I'll meet up with you and Lance for drinks sometime, but I'm a bit busy at the moment," said Arthur, looking like he wanted to push Gwen from the room with his eyes.

Gwen looked taken aback. "Arthur, is everything okay?" she asked. Then she finally seemed to notice Arthur wasn't alone. "Oh, gosh, I'm interrupting," she realised.

Merlin did his best to stifle a chuckle.

"You should go," said Arthur, his voice strained. Gwen frowned at him, holding up her hands in surrender.

"Okay, sure. I'll just…" she trailed off as she caught sight of Merlin's face. Her mouth slipped open as she stared at him.

"Merlin," she whispered.

Merlin stared at her in confusion. "Um, yes? I guess Arthur's mentioned me?"

Gwen frowned, looking at Arthur, who had closed his eyes in defeat.

"He's…"

"Yes," bit out Arthur.

"But he doesn't…"

"No," he snapped.

Gwen turned back to Merlin, worrying her lip. "Oh, Arthur," she said, a tear slipping from the corner of her eye.

"Please just go, Gwen," said Arthur, sounding almost lost. Gwen looked at him pityingly.

She hoisted her bag more firmly over her shoulder. "I'll tell Elyan and the boys to organise a get-together next week. I'll see you there."

It was a command, however gentle the tone, and Arthur nodded, not looking at her. She continued to watch him for one long moment, before turning to leave. As she passed Merlin, she placed one hand firmly on his shoulder.

"I'm so glad he found you," she whispered, and then bustled out of the shop.

Merlin stared after her for a moment, before turning back to his companion, who was refusing to look at him.

"I'm guessing she also knew the boy who looked like me?"

Arthur's mouth twisted into a pained grimace. "She met him the same day I did," he said, his voice wistful. He bit the inside of his cheek. "I wasn't the only one who lost him."

"Is this why you haven't introduced me to your other friends?"

Arthur frowned.

"It's more complicated than that. But I imagine you'll be meeting them all soon anyway, now that Gwen's seen you. You'll probably get a few more looks like that."

Merlin bit the inside of his cheek.

"Is she going to be okay?"

Arthur sighed. "Yeah, she'll be fine."

Merlin peered at him.

"Are you going to be okay?"

Arthur looked at him a moment, and finally smiled.

"Yes, I think so."

Merlin had to control the slight blush creeping up his neck at Arthur's tender look, and he couldn't help but notice that, despite the dark subject, that particular smile had not seemed forced.