Chapter 9

Darkness as his company, Merlin sat in the kitchen. Gwen had gone to sleep about half an hour ago and Merlin had since turned off the lights. His thoughts had joined him then, only this time they weren't malicious. They were inquisitive.

What now?

How will this happen?

What are you going to do?

What about Mithian?

And Arthur?

Dropping out of school was out of the question. It was the beginning of March. Exams were in a month. All he had to do was pass his courses and he'd be graduated. Done his years of study. After this, he'd never have to see Arthur again.

He and Gwen had decided that they would study together and she would catch him up as best she could, so as to make sure he would pass his classes and end up with respectable results. In order to do so, however, Merlin was in for a few weeks of challenge. He would have to get used to eating proper portions again. He would need to maintain a constant routine of sleep to ensure better sleep quality and quantity. He would also need to surround himself with people who cared for him. Actually cared for him. Gwen, ever so thorough, had pointed out all these necessities for recovery. And, to help, she was going to join him throughout the eating, the good company, and the studying.

"And lastly," Gwen had said. She reached into her bag and took out a few pamphlets. "I got these at the student services centre on campus."

Reading over them, Merlin felt his stomach twist a little. He looked up at her. "Support groups?"

Gwen raised her hands in a calming gesture. "It's just a thought. You don't have to do anything you don't want to."

Doubtful, Merlin raised his eyebrows. "They have support groups for people who fancy others that don't fancy them back?"

She huffed out a laugh. "Don't be ridiculous. Those are for self esteem."

Merlin suddenly felt embarrassed. He hunched in on himself, refusing to look at her.

"Don't - Merlin," Gwen scooted her chair closer. "No one is ever one hundred percent confident with who they are. Some people's doubts last longer than others'. And that's what this is for."

"I-" Merlin frowned and stole a glance at her. "I can't go. It's like… it's like I'm admitting I'm a lost cause and-"

"It's not like that. And you're not a lost cause." She smoothed over his hair. "This is just in case you feel you can't recover without proper help. We'll see how you are later on and if things haven't improved by then, we'll go together. Okay?"

Merlin reluctantly agreed. He supposed balancing on the cusp of starvation all because he felt like he was nothing did qualify as something a professional should help with. But, for some reason, Merlin felt like this was something he had to do alone. He had managed to dig himself into a hole that was too big to emerge from by himself. But he had dug it. And since he still had the shovel in hand, it was time to fill the hole and step out with confidence. Well, that was the goal.

Gwen had said goodnight after that. Solutions to limiting his contact with Arthur and Mithian came to mind, some ridiculously drastic, others not drastic enough. He supposed, in the end, that limiting contact with just Arthur was more important than the couple. Besides, with Mithian beside him, Arthur wouldn't make nearly as many insults and his attention would be on her, not Merlin.

When he entered his bedroom that night, mind made up and tired of thinking about Arthur, he noticed that the room, post-breakdown, seemed warmer and more welcoming than it did before, pre-breakdown. No longer was his room a place in which he was imprisoned, hiding from Arthur and Mithian. Now it was just his room.

He looked at his bed, noticing the stain that somehow mocked him. He took a firm step forward, a firm step to recovery, and stripped his bed. Merlin tangled everything into a ball, suffocating the stain and letting it die. He threw it into his hamper and remade his bed.

He slept soundly that night, in his new sheets.


On Monday, Merlin walked down the English Department's halls, which were, for some reason, empty and eerily silent. His shoes clomped and echoed forebodingly. When he reached his professor's door, Merlin knocked and secretly hoped no one would be there. He hesitated upon hearing a "come in".

When he entered, timidly, he saw his professor at her desk, shifted away from the door and facing her computer, typing.

"Professor Freya?"

"Yes, come in. Sit. I'll be with you in a moment," his professor gestured with one hand before returning it to her keyboard.

Merlin bit his lip lightly, nervously, as he shuffled forward and sat on the chair opposite his professor's desk. He fidgeted, waiting for her to finish whatever she was typing. With the finalizing click of her mousepad, Professor Freya swivelled slightly in her chair and faced Merlin.

"How can I help you?"

Merlin rubbed the back of his head nervously. "I, uh. I'm in your fourth year Shakespeare class that runs every Thursday?"

"Yes, I recognize you. And your name is?"

"Merlin. Merlin Emrys."

"Oh yes, Mr. Emrys. I remember now. I was rather impressed with your midterm paper."

Smiling, pleased, Merlin shuffled in his seat. "Thank you."

Looking expectantly at Merlin, Professor Freya raised her eyebrows and repeated, "How can I help you?"

"Oh. Yes, uhm." Merlin didn't know why he was so nervous to tell her. He had no reason to be. He wasn't even majoring in English. "I wanted to let you know that I have decided to drop the course."

Freya nodded slowly. "And why have you come to me? You've dropped it already, yes?"

"Yes." Merlin scooted to the edge of his seat. "I wanted to let you know that I didn't drop it because of your teaching. I loved your class and I'm sorry to leave it."

A small smile bloomed on her face. "Well thank you, Mr. Emrys. I appreciate you coming here in person."

"It's the least I could do."

Merlin made to get up. "If I may," his professor said, "why are you leaving, then?"

Screwing up his face, Merlin relaxed in his chair and ran a hand through his hair. "It's…" he drew out the "s". "S'complicated."

Bemused, Professor Freya clasped her hands together and leaned them on her desk. "Can you uncomplicate it?"

Merlin grinned, despite himself. He thought it funny his Shakespeare professor was making up words. How very Shakespeare of her. "That's what I'm trying to do."

Professor Freya leaned back and nodded to the door, smiling. "Good luck, then."

Merlin released a breath he didn't know he was holding. "Thank you, ma'am." And he stood up on steady legs.


When Wednesday came, Merlin made sure to be a little late so that he'd be forced to sit at the back of the class to prevent any disruption. And when class ended, he packed his bag and quickly exited to avoid Mithian. He wasn't ready to see her just yet and face her many questions that would no doubt ensue. He hadn't even seen her at their flat yet; apparently she was spending most of her time at Arthur's lately. He wasn't sure if the twist in his stomach was because he was jealous of all the time she was spending with Arthur, or if it was because he knew he'd have to face them soon. Merlin was about to work a long shift, and Mithian was working with him. Undoubtedly, Arthur would be there too.


Apron tied tightly around his waist, Merlin attended his tables with shy smiles, feeling a little unsteady as he saw Mithian enter. Her face lit up when she saw him. He offered a tentative smile when she waved. When his customers all had their drinks and food, Merlin walked behind the counter and let out a slight grunt when Mithian launched herself at him.

"Merlin!"

"Hey, Mith."

She pulled back and grinned. "How are you feeling? Arthur told me you've been unwell. We've been concerned."

Merlin grimaced. He wondered when "I" become "we"; he was certain Arthur wasn't concerned. He supposed, though, that the evolution of their relationship led to "I" becoming "we". "I'll be there soon" eventually would turn into "We'll be there soon." Maybe Arthur's "I don't care about you" would turn into "We don't care about you" as well. He wasn't sure if he looked forward to that or dreaded it.

"I'm feeling better, thanks. Just have a lot of work to catch up on now."

Mithian rolled her eyes playfully with him. "So dramatic. You'll catch up no problem; you've only missed a day."

He bitterly thought to himself that he'd missed a lot more than a day.

But he smiled at her. "Yeah you're right. I'll be fine."

And he felt himself falling back into the routine of being "fine". He wondered if he would be.

The door chimed as more customers entered, freeing Merlin of their jaded conversation.


Inevitably, Arthur came to pick Mithian up when closing time neared. She was mopping the floors as Merlin was wiping the counter tops.

Steeling himself, Merlin slowly looked up at Arthur, willing himself not to feel embarrassed. This was the first time he'd seen him since Morgana's party. The first time he was facing him since finding out that Arthur knew. About everything.

He didn't know what he expected, but it certainly wasn't an Arthur shrouded in normality. There was no worry, no relief, no discernment. Nothing. Just Arthur. And, for some reason, that infuriated him. After the hellish week he'd had, all thanks to Arthur, why was he the only one affected? Shouldn't Arthur look guilty? Upset? Anything?

This made seeing him all the more difficult. When Arthur's gaze settled on him, Merlin looked away and sighed deeply. He picked up the cloth and continued wiping the counter tops, seemingly busier than he was.

"Peasant."

And Merlin jumped, not realizing that Arthur had walked to him, away from Mithian. He regarded Arthur coldly.

"Where is my sustenance?"

He felt his body shake from annoyance as a wave of lividity roared through him. Nonchalance was not something he wanted. Not from Arthur.

"I haven't made it." He gritted out.

Arthur feigned kingly outrage, but there didn't seem to be any genuine humour behind it. "Three hours in the stocks, then, peasant."

Merlin glared at him for a moment, feeling himself slowly chip away into nothingness. This wasn't fair. Slowly, Arthur's smile slipped off his face. He cleared his throat.

"Are you feeling better-"

"Yeah, fine. Thanks." Merlin interrupted. He wrung out his cloth over the sink and threw it to join his apron on the floor, both in wait for the wash. He looked over to Mithian. "Hey, Mith - I'll take over from here. You and Arthur can go."

Wiping her sweaty forehead, Mithian smiled at him. "Thanks Merlin." She looked at Arthur. "Let me just get my stuff."

Arthur nodded, still looking at Merlin, seemingly unable to compute what he'd just done. As Mithian walked to the back, silence stretched unsteadily over them.

Merlin knew Arthur was looking at him, could feel the burn similar to the one he'd received when they watched that movie. But this time, instead of reacting and giving him the satisfaction, Merlin refused to meet his gaze. He let the thinly stretched silence struggle under the weight of it all until eventually, Arthur tore it. Pulled it apart. He pulled everything apart.

"I uhm." And he cleared his throat. "I forgot to ask: are you free to study next week?"

"Actually, I've dropped the course." Merlin replied quickly. And he continued his ministrations, throwing the old pastries into the rubbish bin.

"You-" Arthur stepped closer to the counter that separated them. "- dropped the course."

And it was then that Merlin's insecurities set off when he realized how disappointed Arthur sounded. "Yeah," he said uncertainly. "I, well, it's not like I need it for my major, so it just didn't seem to make sense." He still hadn't looked at Arthur, but his cheeks flared at the knowledge that he was being scrutinized. Under a microscope, small and insignificant in the eyes of Arthur.

"Merlin."

Straightening, Merlin turned and looked over at Arthur. For some reason, the hopeless romantic part of him expected to see a devastated Arthur, an Arthur devoid of any disdain. The part of Merlin that would still cut his own heart out as an offering to him, regardless of how many times it was shoved back in his face… that part was hoping to find Arthur beside himself, wanting to be with him. Wanting to spend those precious 60 minutes with him and him alone. But it wasn't like that. He just looked dark, like a conniption had taken ahold of him.

Puzzled, Merlin opened his mouth to ask him what was wrong, but-

"Arthur?" Mithian appeared, somehow invisibly to both men. "Are you alright?"

Arthur, still looking at Merlin, didn't answer. And Merlin couldn't stop staring at him, either. Confused, Mithian glanced at the both of them before she said: "What's going on?"

It was Merlin who looked away first. "Nothing. I'll finish up here. Off you go."

Mithian grinned at him, still looking confused, before she slid her hands around Arthur's arm. She gently led him away, throwing a "see you at home" at Merlin.


Perhaps forty minutes later, after Merlin had gathered himself together and finished the mopping and put the rubbish away, he arrived at his flat, taking notice of both Mithian's and Arthur's shoes by the door.

He saw Mithian on the couch, reading one of her textbooks. Gwen was in the kitchen, putting together both their dinners. He didn't know where Arthur was, though. Merlin's stomach clenched painfully when the smell of food reached his nostrils. He felt sick.

He felt as though an infinite amount of weight had been tied to his body, pulling him down into this pit he'd been trying to climb out of. Scrabbling at the walls, screaming for help, only to have the noise boomerang right back to him. He felt tired and unworthy.

Upon hearing the door close, Gwen turned around with one plate in each hand, smiling. Her sunny mood faded, however, when she saw the look on Merlin's face. She placed the dinners on the counter and rushed forward.

"What's happened?" She said quietly, wary of Mithian's presence.

"Nothing. It's nothing." He shook his head and dropped his bag.

"Merlin…"

"Gwen." He said angrily. "It's nothing."

A look of utter defiance crossed Guinevere's face. "It's not nothing, Merlin. It's you. Your wellbeing." She took his hand as he toed off his shoes. "Come eat with me. We'll talk about it."

"M'not hungry." He shook off Gwen's hand.

"No, Merlin. You're not doing this." And her voice rose, if only a little.

"Gwen-"

"No, Merlin! You will eat. I'm not letting you starve yourself again."

The bathroom door beside them shut loudly and the two of them looked over to Arthur, whose shocked face clearly showed that he'd heard Gwen. He stared with eyes that were only slightly wide. Merlin saw Gwen close her eyes in dismay before turning back to him with such a sorry look.

While the moment itself lasted for a few seconds, Merlin felt years leave his body, then centuries when Arthur recovered coolly and turned his back to him and walked away.

"Fuck…" he breathed. His shoulders sagged and he finally turned back to Gwen.

Looking mildly horrified, Gwen placed a hand over her mouth. "I'm so sorry," came her muffled reply.

Merlin just shook his head. "S'not your fault." He placed his arm around her shoulders and together they walked to the kitchen. He made sure to eat every bite of his dinner before he went to bed, ignoring Mithian's goodnight wishes and Arthur's dismantling gaze.


I'd first like to thank everyone for their overwhelming support and kind condolences. You have no idea how much I appreciate it.

Second, I'm aware that it's been almost a year since my last post. I apologize. 2014 was not my year.

Despite the shit-show that was my year, I have remained determined to finish this story. I will not let it die. I love these characters too much to not give them their happily ever after.

Also, I'd like to apologize if this chapter wasn't as dramatic or exciting as the others. Please keep in mind that Merlin is trying to recover, which is a slow process to those who have endured it. It's not like some romantic movie where the character's insecurities and problems fade away with the seal of a kiss (wouldn't that be great though? What a kind world that would be.)

Thank you so much for your never ending support.

Autumdragon