Disclaimer: Don't own Merlin.

Warnings: All the usual, plus a little extra swearing for some reason

A/N: Sorry for the long break! So much gratitude to everyone who's been reading and reviewing this fic, you're all bloody great.

Am sticking with Arthur's POV due to your feedback, but am going to write a one shot from Merlin's perspective after this fic is finished :)

Major thank you to BleedingOpal, Laura T, Trucks, Bailieboro, Belisha Beacon, lovePEOPLEandCOWBOY, wholocked12, Castilian, and katiemorris8 for the ace reviews! You all rock.

~III~

The next few days, a routine sets in. Uther brings him his breakfast and fresh clothes and then goes out to work, leaving his lunch on the side table. Then he returns in the evening with his dinner. Sometimes he lets Arthur take a shower afterwards, giving him cellophane to wrap over his arm and fingers so as not to wet the bindings.

Arthur's well enough to stand up and walk on his own now, but he rarely bothers because there's nowhere to go in his tiny room. He spends most of the day lying in bed, staring at the ceiling.

The worst part is that Uther insists on keeping him locked up when he's out at work, so that he can't go to the bathroom. Uther leaves him an honest to God old fashioned porcelain chamber pot (a family heirloom, apparently) which Arthur finds beyond humiliating. He asks his father if he can be moved to the guest room with the en-suite, already knowing the answer will be no. Uther sneers at him, accusing him of acting like a girl. He adds that if Arthur is uncomfortable, he brought it all on himself so maybe he should stop complaining. Arthur has to bite the inside of his cheeks to keep himself from protesting the unfairness of it all.

Uther also brings him his school textbooks to revise with. It's hard to concentrate. He gets tired very easily and often wakes up with a book still open in his hand. Then there's the dull ache of his injuries, throbbing almost continually. Uther gives him two paracetamol twice a day, but nothing stronger. It's cold comfort but he takes it anyway, chasing the placebo effect if nothing else.

Aredian shows up at some point to check on Arthur's progression. Arthur refuses to look at him throughout the examination, answering his questions in monosyllables. He doubts Aredian notices, or even cares. He inspects Arthur's injuries with a detached, impersonal air; as though Arthur's just another patient and not someone he's known since Arthur was a little boy.

The whole experience makes bile rise in Arthur's throat. He's utterly sickened by this man, who took a Hippocratic Oath to protect his patients yet seems untroubled by the obvious evidence of abuse in front of his eyes. What happens the day Uther finally goes too far and kills him? Will Aredian come round and help bury the body?

It's only a stray thought, born from the bitterness of Aredian's visit, but Arthur finds it lingers long after the man has gone.

What if Uther really did kill him?

Not intentionally, even he knows his father doesn't want that. But some days his rage is so uncontained, so wild and dangerous… all it would take is one particularly hard blow to the head, one push near a staircase…

The thoughts terrify Arthur but he can't seem to push them out of his head. It's not likely but it is… possible. He has over another year left living at home, who knows what could happen in that amount of time? Uther's behaviour on Friday was a clear escalation from what came before. Could it be a sign of worse to come?

He spends three days worrying over it before he comes to his decision. This can't go on anymore. He has to tell someone. He has to get away from his father before it's too late.

He needs to go to the police. If he runs, Uther will find him. He needs Uther to be behind bars, or at least for the police to be aware his father poses a threat to him. They'd have to protect him, right?

He'll need somewhere else to live too. But he doubts anyone will want to take him in. He's a danger to Merlin and his mother now that Uther has them in his sights, he can't go there. Morgana's not scared of Uther, but he's sure her sister wouldn't want him living with them. He hardly knows his uncle, or any of his other relatives.

Still he's seventeen, so technically he can move into somewhere on his own. Social services will have to help him. He doesn't care if he ends up in some fleapit room in a hostel; it has to be better than here.

There's one problem. He's trapped for the next two weeks.

Arthur knows if he waits until the Easter holidays are over, he'll be mostly healed. There'll be no evidence. Only his word, alongside the scars on his back. But they could have come from anywhere. If he goes to the police and they don't believe him, they'll deliver him right back into Uther's hands and he'll surely never get another chance.

So he needs to get out. As soon as possible, while Uther's violence is still written all over his body.

Arthur tries his best to plan, abandoning his revision to think of ways to escape. The cleaning lady is meant to come on Wednesday and Arthur decides to wait until she reaches the third floor and then shout for her help. She might have a key to the door, or if not, she can call the police herself after he explains that he's trapped.

But Wednesday rolls around and she never shows up. Arthur guesses Uther must have given her the day off for this exact reason.

One plan down. He regroups. Arthur notes that when Uther enters the room he tends to slip the door key into his trouser pocket. Is there a way of stealing it from there?

But that would require him getting very close to Uther indeed, and he can't think of a way it wouldn't look suspicious. It's not as though they're a hugging family.

He puts that plan on the back burner for now, in case inspiration strikes, and concentrates on the window. As he noticed on first inspection, it appears to be heavily painted into place. He tries lifting it several times but the pain it causes in his injured hand and broken arm is excruciating. So he decides to focus his efforts on dislodging the paint instead.

There's nothing he can use within the room, so he takes the hard plastic cover off one of his textbooks and tears a piece off it, which he then folds up into a kind of point. It's hardly a blade but it manages to make some indentation in the paint work, so he patiently picks away at it every day. He manages to keep his progress hidden from Uther by keeping the curtains drawn, claiming the light hurts his eyes.

When Uther's at work, he draws the curtain and heaves himself up to sit by the window and work on the paint, keeping an eye out for passers-by that he could attract the attention of. But the window looks out onto the back of the house and no-one has cause to be round there other than the gardener that comes once a week. If Uther hasn't cancelled him like he did the cleaner, he should be coming on Sunday, so that's a third plan Arthur tucks away in his mind.

The final plan is Morgana. While their relationship hasn't been close in a long time, Morgana still makes the effort to see Arthur at least a few times a year, usually during the holidays. Morgana had emailed him last week saying she would be in town for the coming weekend and could they meet? He'd sent a response in the affirmative, asking her to contact him with more details. And then the cellar happened and he hadn't seen his laptop or his phone since.

But Morgana still knows they were supposed to meet, would hopefully suspect something was wrong due to his sudden lack of contact. She might come to the house; maybe raise the alarm when she can't find him…

This plan isn't as fool proof as it sounds. Their relationship has been strained for a long time and Morgana might just take this as him trying to get out of the reunion. Or, even if she did suspect, it's not like her or Uther were on the greatest terms. It wasn't as though she could just waltz into the house and Uther'd be all "Arthur's right upstairs, feel free to go and get him while I meekly turn myself in to the police."

Also, Uther has his phone. There's no chance he isn't reading his text messages; probably deleting all the ones from Merlin he can find. If Morgana did text to confirm, Uther could have simply replied with some excuse as to why he couldn't come, purportedly from Arthur.

He holds onto the glimmer of hope though. Morgana prefers email to text and Arthur's email is password protected, Uther can't go snooping around there. There's a chance…

~III~

On Friday, Arthur is working on the window as usual. Frustratingly, he's a long way from finished, and he has to take regular breaks to ease the pain in his hand.

It's during one of these breaks that the doorbell suddenly rings. He jumps as it sounds through the silent house, instantly on alert. Is it Morgana? The email said she'd arrive on Friday. Has she come for him?

The hope that thought generates is quickly shattered by the fact that he can't open the door to her, or even signal to her in any way. The bell rings again and he grits his teeth in anguish.

The bell rings once more and stops and he turns back to the window with a sigh.

It's not like there's any proof it was Morgana anyway. More likely some door to door salesman, or a Jehovah's Witness.

He picks up his pointed plastic but can't quite find the energy to start picking again. He gazes out of the window instead and starts in shock as a figure appears in the garden.

It's not a door to door salesman. It's not even Morgana.

It's Merlin.

He's looking round the garden and Arthur realises with a jolt that he must be looking for him.

Even after he dumped him, and cut all contact with him, Merlin's still come to look for him.

Without thinking about it, he bangs on the glass with all his might and then cries out as pain floods up his arms. He tries it again, more carefully, but it still hurts and it hasn't attracted Merlin's attention.

He looks around the room desperately for something to hit the window with, but there's nothing but textbooks. He grabs his hardback Business Studies guide and smacks it against the window, but Merlin still doesn't look up. He's three storeys up and the window is thick, the sound's not getting through. He tries to smash through the window instead with the edge of the book, but the glass must be reinforced. So he's reduced to banging as hard as he can on the pane, watching in misery as Merlin eventually walks away.

He's crying now, so overwrought by his efforts and discouraged by his failure that can't help the tears coming. It didn't work, which means there's no hope for communicating with the gardener either. And it's Friday so Morgana is in town but she hasn't come for him. And he can't even chip the paint from this stupid fucking window.

His plans are useless. All he can do is stay in here till Uther lets him out, and spend the next year and a bit doing what his father says. Tiptoeing around and hoping the day never comes that his father does him some permanent damage.

He drops the textbook and curls up on the bed, tugging the duvet around him. He's not going to revise, or try to stay awake and plan. He's not going to think about Merlin or his friends or any of the good things in his life before they're lost to him now.

He's going to sleep because that's the only escape he has left.

~III~

When Uther arrives with his dinner that night, Arthur rolls on his side, refusing to sit up. After a few threats Uther hauls him into an upright position, shoving the tray on his lap. When Arthur makes no move to pick up the utensils, Uther grabs a fork and sticks it into a bit of stew, forcing it towards Arthur's mouth. Arthur turns his head away.

Uther slaps him but Arthur barely notices. It feels like his father is very far away to him now. When Uther grabs his jaw and forces his mouth open, he complies. But when Uther's gotten a spoonful of stew inside, he simply opens his mouth and lets it fall down his front.

He can see Uther's eyes narrow in rage but he doesn't flinch when Uther throws the entire bowl of stew in his face. It's hot and it stings horribly but Arthur doesn't react. He stays there, letting it drip down his face, wondering what he looks like right now.

Probably hilarious. A bubble of laughter rises unbidden in his throat and before he knows it he's giggling like mad. Uther looks both comically enraged and also slightly unnerved and that only makes him laugh harder as bits of stew slide off his chin.

Uther slaps him again but he doesn't feel it. He continues to laugh until Uther backs out of the room, and doesn't stop even when his father returns with the bottle of sleeping pills.

He only stops when Uther pinches his nose shut and that's because he can't breathe and laugh at the same time. Uther shoves the pills into his mouth and then clamps his hand over it, forcing Arthur to swallow. He does and Uther releases him, standing there in front of Arthur until he finally sinks into unconscious.

~III~

When he wakes up, his face is clean and the bed clothes have been changed. Arthur wonders why Uther didn't just leave him to lie in it, but he remembers the slight look of fear in Uther's eyes when he was laughing. Uther hates anything that could be construed as madness. His own mother suffered extreme periods of mental illness, and Arthur knows it still scares his father. Whenever Morgana would have a nightmare when they were younger, it would panic Uther. He brought doctor after doctor in, fearing psychosis even as they reassured him it was perfectly normal to suffer nightmares.

Good, Arthur thinks. Let Uther be afraid.

But the hazy, disconnected feeling he has the night before has vanished. He's back in the here and now, whether he likes it or not.

He eats his breakfast obediently, mindful of the way Uther watches him with a touch of apprehension in his gaze. He's grateful for that lingering fear, it means he won't be punished for yesterday. Uther must have concluded he wasn't in his right mind.

But it's his father who isn't in his right mind, he thinks bitterly.

Just as he's finished and Uther is escorting him to the bathroom along the hall, they both hear it. A hammering on the door, and then a voice ringing out, clear as a bell even three storeys up.

"Arthur? Are you in there? Arthur?"

It's Morgana.

Hope floods Arthur's chest and he opens his mouth to yell but Uther's too quick for him, shoving his hand over Arthur's mouth and dragging him back to the bedroom. He shoves Arthur on the bed and then exits, locking the door behind him.

Arthur hears him descending the stairs, then the door opening.

He presses his ear to the door but he can just about make out Uther's voice, cool and collected.

"… not here. So I'll thank you to… making a fuss… neighbours can hear…"

Morgana's voice carries much better.

"Where is he?"

"… football camp… good friend Leon…"

"You're lying," Morgana shouts. "I spoke to Leon, I spoke to all his friends, no-one's seen him all week!"

"… hysterical… not welcome in this house… call the police if I see you in…"

"Call the police then! Save me the bother of doing it myself!" Morgana all but screams and Arthur's heart catches in his throat.

Please call the police. Please.

"Get off my… have you arrested," Uther spits and then there's the sound of door slamming.

Moments later he hears footsteps on the stairs and quickly drags himself to sit on the bed as though he hadn't been eavesdropping.

Uther bursts through the door.

"Get dressed," he says without ceremony. "We're going for a drive."

"What?" Arthur says.

"No questions. Dress now."

Arthur stares at his father for a while.

"I don't want to go."

The backhand to the face is sudden and brutal. Arthur drops to the floor, feeling blood trickle from his already damaged nose.

"It's not a fucking negotiation," Uther snarls. "Get up, now."

Without waiting for a response, he leans down and yanks Arthur to his feet. Arthur yelps at the pressure on his broken arm, and tries to dig his heels in.

If he can just hang on a little while, if the police are coming…

But Uther's apparently had the same thought because he wraps his arms around Arthur and begins to drag him bodily from the room.

Arthur struggles as best he can but he's weak from his injuries and days of lying in bed. Uther manages to manoeuvre him down the stairs and to the ground floor, where he throws him on the ground in the kitchen. Arthur's whole body is protesting at this point, he tries to get up to make a run for it but he can only crawl a few paces. Uther finishes ransacking a drawer and looms over him, duct tape in his hands. He pulls Arthur's arms in front of him, ignoring his son's scream of pain, and quickly tapes them together at the wrist, before doing the same to his feet. Then he reaches down and slaps tape over Arthur's mouth, muffling his cries.

Arthur panics, aware of his complete lack of mobility. He can do nothing as Uther picks him up bridal style and carries him through the back door that leads to the garage, stopping in front of the black Porsche. Arthur expects to be thrown in the back seat, but Uther awkwardly manipulates his keys to unlock the boot instead.

Arthur's panic increases tenfold and he tries to twist his body away as his father deposits him in the small, cramped space.

Then the boot slams shut and he can't see anything. It's like a nightmare and he frantically tries to loosen the bindings on his hands and feet. He has to force himself to calm down and breathe slowly because the tape over his mouth is restricting his air flow.

Is this really happening? Has his father really tied him up and slung him in a boot?

He must have finally lost it.

Suddenly Arthur feels the vibrations as the engine starts, and hears the garage door open and the car move forward.

This is it, his father's taking him away; somewhere no-one will ever find him…

Then he hears the sweetest sound in the world: police sirens.

There's a squeal of tires and the car stops abruptly, presumably brought to a halt by a car blocking his way.

He hears voices, loud and sudden.

"What seems to be the problem, officer?" Uther says, sounding calm as ever.

"I'm afraid we've had a report of detainment of a minor at this address," says the officer and Arthur is sickened to realise he sounds apologetic. "We're going to have to search the premises, sir."

"Of course," Uther says, sighing deeply. "I'm afraid this is another one of my daughter's delusions. It's not the first time."

"We'll make it quick Mr Pendragon," the officer says sympathetically and Arthur nearly cries. The officer knows who his father is, or he thinks he does. Upstanding businessman, pillar of the community. There's no way he'll take Morgana's word over Uther's.

He hears people walking away and the sounds of the house being entered. He's pretty sure Morgana is there, he can hear her voice from time to time.

About fifteen minutes passes, with nothing happening. Arthur tries to stay calm and keep breathing steadily. It's so hot in the boot and he wants nothing more than to just shut his eyes for a minute, but he knows he can't.

Then the car dips slightly and he realises someone's leaning against the boot.

"Nice ride," a male voice says wistfully.

"More than your paycheck's worth, Penhall," a female voice replies.

"Yeah, I know, Jesus. I can barely pay off my Skoda," the man says ruefully, and the woman laughs.

"We about done here?" she says.

"Yeah. Smithy's talking with the guy now but it's pretty obvious it's just his whackjob daughter making shit up. Apparently the kid's staying with a family friend. Some guy Aridan. Or Aredan or something, I dunno. He gave us the number to check it out."

"I swear, rich families are always the most fucked up," the woman says contemplatively. "You're lucky with your piece of shit car Penhall, all this ain't worth the hassle."

Arthur's not listening. His father's done it again. Somehow, unbelievably, he's done it again. And he's got Aredian as an alibi, not that the police are gonna follow this up anyway because to them it's clearly a foregone conclusion.

No. It can't happen this way.

Arthur tries to scream but the tape muffles him completely. He attempts to bang on the roof with his hands but he can't reach far enough.

He kicks out with his bound legs and is rewarded with a dull thumping sound. He does it again. And again.

"Can you hear something?" the woman says.

"What?"

"That thumping. Listen," she says.

Arthur kicks out again, ignoring the pain that the impact sends through his body.

"I think it's coming from the boot."

"Don't be mental."

"I'm serious. Penhall, there's someone in there!"

"The kid?"

"Yeah, maybe. Go get his keys, we gotta take a look."

"You're joking, right? I'm just gonna waltz up to the richest man in town and tell him I think he's stuffed his own son in the boot of his car."

"Jesus!" the woman shouts and her footsteps walk away. Arthur hopes to God she's going to get the keys because his energy is fast running out, he just wants to close his eyes and sleep…

There's a commotion outside and he forces his eyes open.

"…no right, absolutely no right to demand this of me."

Uther's voice is commanding and loud.

"Tell your sergeant to stand down, please."

There's a pause and the voice of the original unctuous officer returns.

"Couldn't we just take a quick look? Set everyone's mind at ease?"

"Absolutely not!" Uther shouts.

There's another long silence. Arthur summons all of his energy and kicks out one last time.

"There!" the female voice cries and suddenly there's the sound of a scuffle, and voices clamouring to talk over each other.

It seems to Arthur that Uther might have tried to run but they've caught him. It uses up the last of his concentration and he finds himself drifting away, the voices becoming distorted…

Then a lock clicks and the boot is pulled open, daylight flooding into the enclosed space.

Arthur looks up at the shocked faces of three police officers staring at him, and finally passes out.

~III~

The comfort is finally here next chapter! No more bad stuff, I swear, from here on out Arthur's gonna be taken care of :)