The next morning, after establishing last night had not been just a fever dream- he seemed to have to do that kind of self analysis a lot these days- he established three more facts.

Fact No. 1- His would-be-kidnappers came from the apartment above his, and were probably hired by Cendred some rival company.

After he woke up, in an island of perfect organization in a sea of chaos, and gathered his wits about him, he proceeded to look out of the hole in his wall to figure out how somebody could climb up dozens of stories to reach his floor on plain foothold less glass. He should have known better.

There was a black rope dangling in front of the glass wall, which was connected to the window directly above his flat. It was definitely easier to climb down a rope for something like 3 meters, than climb up for 100 meter or so.

The next order of business was finding out who owned the apartment above. Few carefully placed calls revealed that the place was recently re-sold, at double the asking price, after its previous owner suddenly and mysteriously decided he did not want it any more. New proprietors had shifted there just a few days ago. The receptionist Arthur was sweet talking mentioned she was very confused when they did not bring any luggage, but thought maybe they were just getting settled first.

As to why he suspected it was Cendred... well let's just say it wasn't the first attempt made at Arthur's life, even if it was the closest call till date. Cendred was the owner of Esseter Incorporation, and he was-to put it mildly- extremely competitive. It was a pretty thriving and successful company on its own but it did not even come close to the fame and reliability of Pendragon products. Instead of realizing that it was because of the fact that his company compromised quality for more profit, and was least bothered by customer satisfaction, he always blamed Arthur for his own deficiencies and more than once he had publicly and privately threatened Arthur. He seemed to be of the belief that if Arthur left the business, or died, Pendragon Incorporation would not be able to bear the loss, and would crumble. Arthur had always kind of found the belief funny; Cendred apparently did not know his father.

Whether it was an almost fatal car accident, or a missed bullet, or carefully planned but fortunately foiled kidnapping attempt that Arthur faced in the last three years, it could always be vaguely traced back to Esseter and by that regards, Cendred. There was never enough evidence to charge him though, so Arthur had always just tightened his security and trusted fate.

Sure enough, contacting some of the people he knew, one of them a private investigator, in a few hours Arthur had all the confirmation he needed- but yet again, no proof- of Cendred's involvement. Valiant Isles and Cedric Sigan, the men who had bought the flat above him and the same men who had tried to abduct him yesterday, used to work in Esseter Incorporation some five years ago but had both resigned from that company for unknown reasons. Nobody could find out who they worked for at the moment, but Arthur was certain their employer's name started with C and ended with D.

Fact No. 2: There was jack shit he could do about the attack.

This one did not need any soul searching or research. His room looked like it had been the eye of a hurricane. His assailants had vanished from the scene of crime and maybe even from the whole earth- who knew, except probably Merlin, and he had not been forthcoming with the information last night- and there was no way Arthur could explain to police what exactly happened here yesterday.

Somehow the thought of Cendred getting away with this was not as troubling to Arthur as he had expected it to be, because through the first two facts, there was a third fact that was troubling him a lot more, dwarfing all the rest of his worries.

Fact No. 3: Merlin was in a sulk.

"Merlin. Please tell me last night was just a normal night and not something out of a badly written thriller novel."

Pretty much the first thing Arthur did after his head stopped spinning, even before opening his eyes, was call out for his own personal and reliable genie.

When there was no annoyingly sarcastic comment forthcoming, he groaned. Trust Merlin to shut up just when he needed him to speak up and make light of the situation. If he did not distract himself soon, he felt like he was embarrassingly close to bursting into tears... or hysterical laughter.

Opening his eyes did not help any. The utter chaos around him made his head spin and made everything more real than he was willing to deal with at the moment. He braced himself against overwhelming panic and set about to start feeling more like a human being, and stepped into the shower. Under the hot spray, he wondered what about the previous night was disturbing him the most. It wasn't the attempt on his life, he was positive of that. He had dealt with similar situations before, and not even when a bullet grazed his shoulder, barely missing his vital organs, was he so shaken.

So was it the sheer power Merlin had displayed? He shook his head so hard at the thought that the water splashed everywhere. No! Merlin's loss of control and his display of power had been... comforting. Arthur's every instinct told him that no matter how strong the warlock was, no matter how completely out of control, and no matter how much magic was under his command, Merlin would never harm him, intentionally or unintentionally. If the fact that everything in his room was destroyed but there was no scratch on Arthur wasn't proof enough of that, Arthur didn't know what else could be. It wasn't because he owned the lamp. Arthur was not foolish enough to believe that. More importantly, Arthur knew Merlin. Nobody could ever make him do stuff that he was completely averse to doing, no matter what spells bound him.

There was just something about the way Merlin looked at him. Arthur felt simultaneously exalted, and very heavily burdened by the amount of faith there was in those blue eyes. Faith and loyalty. He had barely known the warlock for a couple of days now, but it felt longer; it felt like lifetimes.

Arthur was not scared of Merlin. The idea was laughable, and the only reason it had crept up in his mind was because how scared Merlin had been himself of Arthur's reaction.

So what was he scared of? It didn't take him long to figure that out. It was the helplessness. The feeling where his limbs would not obey his command, his tongue was too heavy, and he was like a puppet with its strings cut. He dared not imagine what would have happened if Merlin had not been there...

But Merlin had been there. Nothing had happened. Arthur told himself to get a grip, and stepped out of the shower to investigate how exactly the events of last night had come to be.

He called after Merlin again, with a "Merlin I know I told you not to enter the room without permission, but come on... you need to see this," when he saw the rope dangling outside his window, and when there was no reply, he shrugged it off as Merlin being airheaded like usual.

It was when he stepped into his living room and found no sign of the green menace that had become a constant hovering presence in his life that he grew concerned.

Then he saw the lamp lying on the side table next to his couch, exactly where he had put it last night, and relaxed. Hadn't he read in some of the fantasy books as a child that doing powerful magic drained people? Maybe Merlin was just tired, which was expected after the ridiculously extreme exertion he had put himself through yesterday-for no good reason too. There were much more- and less dramatic- ways of dealing with the situation. The warlock's flare for drama did not surprise Arthur though, it was very Merlin.

He told Merlin that out loud, teasing him about being a weakling. He guessed Merlin wasn't really sleeping, as much as he was recuperating. The slight wobbling of the lamp at his remark made him grin.

As the day progressed, Arthur kept him updated to everything he was discovering. He was scared of ordering in lunch, so he made himself a quick snack himself, talking to thin air through the whole process. That was when he realized something that made him freeze.

He missed Merlin.

It had barely been half a week, and already, Merlin not replying back with his usual snark was a very unpleasant feeling. He would die before he told Merlin as much though, so he busied himself again with cooking.

By the end of the day, he had found out as much about his assailants as was possible, decided that involving police was probably a bad idea, and had contacted someone who would come fix his window the next day. He had also cleaned as much of his room as was possible, changing the light bulbs, arranging the furniture, and throwing away things that were beyond repair. He cursed Merlin out loud about the pains he was going through to fix what was Merlin's fault and the least he could do was help, but received no sign that his whining was even heard.

By the time the sun set, Arthur was exhausted. Every muscle in his body ached, his head felt like the vessels inside were throbbing, threatening to burst, and his heart felt like somebody was squeezing it in an iron grip. He was sick with worry... and loneliness.

He sat on the couch and stared at the lamp. The beginning of all his problems, and the solution to them all.

"Merlin, I understand you might not be well, but please just talk to me once. Please?" His voice was small, and he should have felt embarrassed by the neediness in it, except that if it made Merlin talk to him, it was worth it.

The lamp just lay on the table, like any normal inanimate object is wont to do, a million dollar in price or not. He would think that the last few days were barely a hallucination after all, if not for the fact that Merlin had changed his perspective of life so much already, that the idea of magic being unreal did not even cross his mind any more.

"I am tired Merlin. And I really need a friend right now. I am scared, and I want to talk to someone." He begged, and when there was still no response, he felt like smashing the lamp to the ground, except that the idea of hurting Merlin, in any way, was abhorrent.

He wanted to take the lamp in his hands, put it in his lap, and caress it like one would a cat. Run his fingers on all of the engravings, trace them with his fingers. He wanted to feel the warmth because he knew that after Merlin's voice, the heat of the lamp would probably be the second best thing that could actually calm his frazzled nerves.

But touching the lamp when Merlin was not talking to him, when Merlin was making it clear that any and all company was unwelcome, felt wrong. Not to mention that now that Arthur knew Merlin could physically feel someone touching the lamp, the idea of caressing the lamp felt...intimate. Not a repugnant idea... rather a very tempting one, but something that felt like a horrible breach of privacy if done without Merlin's consent. He would not be able to look Merlin in the eye after that, and he would rather not create any more awkwardness between them right now, when he didn't even know why Merlin was not bloody talking to him.

He collapsed back into his couch, head against the back rest, eyes closed, and sighed.

"I don't even know if you are listening, but thank you. For last night, and for everything else. I don't say it enough, don't appreciate people enough, but what you did for me yesterday... I would never forget it." He said to no one in particular.

And then he got up from the couch and started towards his bedroom. He needed sleep.

"Good night Merlin." He called back just in case.

"Arthur?" A voice called from behind him, and he whipped around to see Merlin hovering above the lamp. Relief threatened to make his knees buckle, but he pulled himself together and forced his facial features to resemble something like a scowl.

"Of course! Now is when he shows up." He groaned, but his lips were stretching into a grin and ruining the effect.

Merlin looked vaguely uncomfortable and he won't meet Arthur's eye. He was looking down, at the lamp, and it felt more like avoidance than anything else.

"Merlin? Are you alright?"

"Yeah. Sure." He replied.

Now that the immediate concern about Merlin's well being was satisfied, Merlin's behavior combined with Arthur's exhaustion made him feel very short tempered.

"If you aren't going to say anything... I am going to sleep. You can keep sulking or whatever it is you were doing all day." Arthur snapped and grabbed the handle to his bedroom door, glaring at Merlin one last time.

Merlin's eyes shot up at that, and there was a moment where their eyes met and Arthur saw terror in them- more terror than Arthur was sure was in his own eyes when there was a knife at his throat.

"Please..." Merlin said in barely more than a whisper, his eyes imploring Arthur to be kind.

How could Arthur ever resist such a plea, so he relaxed his stance and said resignedly."What is it Merlin? What do you want? I can't give it to you if you don't ask."

"Just..." Merlin said suddenly, and then trailed off, breaking eye contact.

Frustrated, Arthur raked the hand currently not on the handle of the door through his hair, and kept glaring at Merlin.

"Just let me stay in your bedroom." Words rushed out of Merlin's lips finally.

Arthur gaped, and even without looking at Arthur, Merlin colored up, his ears turning dark green.

"What?"

"You heard what I said."

"Absolutely not." Arthur ordered firmly, and Merlin met his eyes again. The plea in them, along with the fear and the brimming water was just not fair.

"I can't-I just- I need..." Merlin started over and over, losing the nerve to finish the sentence every time. He then took a visible deep breath- he didn't even need to breathe, the idiot- and then said his part before his courage failed him completely, "I can't bear the thought of not being there if something happens...again."

Arthur was speechless for a few minutes. The fear in Merlin's eyes was for him! The realization left him reeling with a mixture of disbelief and gratitude. He softened his voice and tried to calm him down,

"They are hardly going to attack me again tonight Merlin."

"I know." Merlin said despondently.

"Still?"

"Yeah... still." Merlin sighed, as if he was exasperated at himself but couldn't help it.

"I don't know Merlin. It would be kinda creepy. Me sleeping, you watching me sleep. Do you sparkle in the sun?"

"I don't understand that joke, and don't be a prat. Please. I know it's ridiculous, but-I promise to not even leave the lamp. I won't make you uncomfortable. I just need to be there." Merlin snapped in the start and then his voice turned pleading again.

"Okay. Alright." Arthur gave up, and took a few steps to pick up the lamp, while Merlin gave him a relieved grin and then turned into smoke and went back inside the lamp.

Arthur took it inside the room, ignoring the warmth coming from it, making him want to cradle it against his chest. He could've put it on a shelf at the opposite corner of his room, but something made him want to keep it close. So he put it on his bedside table, and then took off his shirt and jeans, too tired to change into night suit, and just snuck inside the blanket in his boxers. Belatedly he realized that Merlin could see everything from inside the lamp. The idea had not bothered him the first time Merlin had been physically present and he had left the bathroom in nothing but a towel, but it somehow made him feel shy now.

Too late to regret it, he got comfortable in the bed and was really close to drifting off when a voice suddenly piped up, too close to him for comfort, making him almost jump out of bed.

"One more thing..."

Arthur sat up, and looked around, but there was nobody around him. That was when he remembered the lamp, and demanded "What the hell Merlin?"

"I promised not to leave the lamp." The voice defended.

"Trust me. This is worse."

"Sorry." He did not sound sorry at all however.

"What do you want now?" He grumbled.

"Can I have your permission to show myself to someone who is threatening your safety? I can't do that unless you allow me." Merlin asked quietly.

"Yes." That was the only thing Arthur could say to his request, his throat clogged with up with a whirlwind of emotions Merlin's concern over him were creating in him.

"And... Can I throw objects at them? And like...touch them? Only if it's necessary to protect you. But I am basically an invisible, incorporeal ghost to everyone but you, unless you give me permission. So please... I know this is too much to ask, none of my previous masters would allow me this, and I would never even ask them- but I am asking you. Please?"

Arthur's heart was breaking, and he did not trust his voice to not break when he would reply. Merlin- loyal, powerful, and so so sweet Merlin, and he had never asked even so much for himself in what Arthur feared had been centuries. He just gave and gave and gave, making someone's life a thousand times better every few decades, making their biggest desires come true, and then going back and repeating the whole process without any gain for himself.

How can anyone keep doing that over and over again? Without any end- without any hope of an end. Arthur could not even fathom it. And even now, when Merlin was asking-begging-for something, it was not for himself. It was for Arthur. To keep him safe.

He did not deserve Merlin. He doubted anyone ever could.

"Yes." He croaked out at length, his voice getting stuck even in this one syllable word, "Yes Merlin. Anything you want." Arthur continued.

"Thanks Arthur." Merlin said gravely, like he meant it, like Arthur had given him something important and big, when he had basically just allowed him to protect Arthur in any way he could.

Arthur wanted to shoot every single person who had ever denied Merlin anything. Feeling intensely guilty, but knowing Merlin did not want pity or comfort right now and respecting his privacy, Arthur laid back down in the bed, his eyes going back to the lamp over and over again. The need to sleep while cradling the lamp against his chest was overpowering, the idea of holding Merlin against his chest even more so, but he pushed it down harshly. Merlin was already giving him so much, much more than he deserved, and a hell of a lot more than he could have ever asked for. It was selfish to want more.

Arthur drifted off the sleep that night with his heart a mess of contradictory emotions. He felt intensely lonely and extremely cherished at the same time. His heart was filled to the brim with a strange sadness and an overwhelming happiness at once. There was an overwhelming of having found something marvelous, but also the grief of profound loss. He felt whole... yet incomplete.

He was scared of someone attacking him again, even if he would never admit it to anyone. But at the same time, he had never felt so very safe in his life.

A/N: Sorry for a little bit delay in this chapter, it was my birthday yesterday and my sisters gave me an amaaazzzinngg party. But in all the activity there was really no time to edit and post a chapter. In good news, the rough draft of the entire story is complete and I will probably complete posting it within the next week :D. YAY for that. I love all of you awesome people who leave comments and make my day so much better.