This day was already a dreary day for the chemistry students. The rain pouring down with a vengeance provided a soundtrack to a double lecture of the most confusing sort, and its physical form was not the most comfortable of congratulations when the lecture was finally over. Just from walking home, Merlin was soaked to his skin from head to toe. When he got home, Arthur seemed not to be in the best of moods, either - he half-heartedly laughed at Merlin and commented on how he looked like a drowned cat, but it was evident that something was preoccupying him. After Merlin had taken a warm shower and put on some dry clothes, he returned to investigate as to what exactly was wrong.

Arthur spent a moment just looking at him.

"You have very nice eyebrows," he said, evidently trying to avoid something.

"Thank you," said Merlin, his tone prompting Arthur to get to the real point.

Arthur sighed.

"Dad's coming over in a week," he said.

"Ah."

Merlin cringed inwardly. Uther still didn't know of their relationship - Arthur had at one point excused the secrecy with wanting to tell him when he was 'on their home ground', as if when it was an advantage in sports, surely it must be in communication of contentious information as well. Merlin wasn't quite sure he believed that, but he didn't push the matter. Arthur was bold as none other, but when it came to his father, it was obvious, no matter how much he tried to hide it, that he was shy of causing offence.

"So, do you want me to clear out like last time?"

Arthur didn't laugh or act surprised, he just shook his head.

"No."

He smiled, an almost coy, sheepish grin, and continued,

"I mean, you do spend most nights in my room anyway, so I thought this might serve as an excuse to move your stuff in with you. On a permanent basis. I mean," he hastily added when seeing Merlin's face in reaction to the suggestion, "If you want to."

Merlin realised he must be looking rather reluctant and worried. He was, but not towards switching rooms.

"Oh, no, I do want to," he mumbled, and then giggled nervously. "I was just thinking about meeting your dad. Uther sounds pretty scary."

"Don't worry. He won't bite."

Though Arthur had said that last line with a laugh, it did not quite shake away the nervousness they both felt, and the dread only grew as the week progressed.

When Uther finally arrived, Merlin was very on edge. His probably clueless 'father-in-law' seemed charming enough, chatting away with Morgana when he entered. She was throwing her head back and laughing, so whatever he had just said must have been funny. When he looked across the room and saw Merlin, he seemed a bit puzzled. Morgana quickly picked up on his confusion.

"Oh, yes. This is Merlin," she informed, as if his presence was not strange at all. Well, it wasn't strange, was it?

"Pleased to meet you," Merlin said, proud of how steady he managed to keep his voice, and offering his hand to be shook. Uther accepted it.

"Uther Pendragon," he informed, as if anyone was in doubt.

And that was it. No further conversation, no hint that Uther knew who Merlin was. He didn't know whether Arthur had informed him of the situation before his arrival - he suspected not, because surely Uther would have mentioned it, and surely he would not have been this casual. True, behind Uther's cordial smile, Merlin was certain he could spot coldness, and his presence still made him feel like with one false move, he would be in big trouble, but that could conceivably be his fear playing tricks on his mind. Either way, he elected to be as silent as he could throughout the evening.

It went fairly well. At first he nearly panicked when Arthur tried to subtly squeeze his hand for confidence, but Uther didn't seem notice, and it kept his spirits up.

Things only really started going downhill when it was getting quite late.

"Right, Martin,"

"Merlin," Merlin corrected apologetically. He almost felt bad for having the wrong name.

"Merlin, sorry." Uther's voice had no trace of remorse. "Shouldn't you be getting home now?"

It was one of those moments where everything seemed to freeze for a second. It felt like someone had poured a bucket of water down Merlin's neck. He didn't quite know how to respond and desperately glanced at Arthur for help. The look on his face made it obvious that he hadn't told Uther anything about their relationship. Merlin didn't know whether he wanted to slap him or hug him, because on one hand, this was not a particularly clever situation he had put them in, but on the other, he knew his reasons. He hadn't known what to say, he had been afraid of disappointing this man who he respected so much, and in the end postponed it for too long. Guilt was quite evident from the way he stared into the air in front of him, expressly not looking at his boyfriend nor his father.

The silence may have lasted only seconds, but needless to say, it felt like a lifetime of doom. Should he tell the truth, or should he chicken out, lie, and claim to be a friend crashing on the sofa for a night? It was Morgana who finally had the guts to choose the former option and say, ever so casually,

"Oh, no, he lives here."

"What?" Uther didn't yet look angry, just confused. When he received no answer, he repeated the question with a threateningly fake laugh, asserting that this better be a joke, "What do you mean he lives here?"

"Yes, he does. He, uh." said Arthur, regaining his power of speech, "He's my boyfriend, actually."

His voice was so calm, far too calm.

"Excuse me?"

"My boyfriend."

"What - You - Boyfriend? Arthur, I'm not sure I follow."

"It's not terribly complicated," Arthur insisted, "He's my boyfriend, and he lives here, because… Well, because I love him."

His voice was still composed, but Merlin could feel him tremble slightly next to him. He grabbed a hold of Arthur's hand, which was still resting between them, and squeezed it in support. Though the moment was tense, Arthur had said he loved him, and his heart made a note that it should rejoice in this when the danger was over.

Uther didn't react for another eternal few seconds. He then scoffed.

"You're joking, Arthur," he said, making the words sound more like an order than an observation.

"As a matter of fact, I am not."

"Arthur, stop this. We both know you cannot be a faggot - "

Morgana chose this moment to cut in.

"Evening news," she said curtly and switched the TV on. A very awkward pause in the conversation followed, as the conflict had not been allowed to get to a head and they weren't quite sure what to do with themselves. The four sat in an ominous silence, watching the news programme roll on, each equally certain that the inevitable shouting match had been postponed rather than cancelled.

The news constituted a good way to distract everyone, but for Merlin's mood, it didn't do very good things. He was already shaken, and since the first report was from a war zone, guns and executions were rife. He wouldn't normally let himself watch this, because he knew what it still did to him. But right now, he didn't dare move, never mind speak.

Then, as if some higher power had decided to make the night as unendurable as possible, a segment came along where the subject of paperless asylum seekers was brought up. It was too much. The dispute of whether deportation was suitable or not, the discussion of laws concerning family reunions…

Deep breaths, he thought, Just breathe, breathe, keep breathing…

Arthur's hand gripped his tighter. That would have helped more if Uther hadn't chosen that moment to comment on the television.

"Such nonsense. It's all an opportunist stirrup; they'd never send anyone back if they were in any real danger!"

Merlin almost immediately rose from his seat.

"I think I'll go to bed now," he announced in a monotone, "You guys have… Catching up to do."

He didn't leave any time to think about whether or not that was an appropriate thing to say. That his actions were strange was obvious even to him, but he couldn't change that now. He would have liked to look Arthur in the eye as he left so that he wouldn't worry too much, but he was afraid he'd lose his calm facade, and that wouldn't exactly decrease worry. Arthur couldn't follow him right now, he knew that. With Uther to placate, he didn't want him to. He got into the bedroom and collapsed on the bed, letting his tears soak his pillow. What an absolutely horrible evening. He lay still, trying to wean the distress out of his system, but not to fall asleep. Sleeping didn't feel like a good idea, reality was nightmarish enough at the moment, he feared the guns and the blood and the sight of his loved ones lying dead.

After a while, the tears subsided. He could hear well that the brave efforts to keep argument at bay had ceased to have any effect.

The voices were muffled by the walls, but the essence was clear enough - Uther was disappointed, Arthur demanded a good reason to condemn their relationship, and the answers on both sides fell short of the other's expectation. After a while of shouting, Morgana's shrill voice joined the choir, and gradually seemed to take over as Arthur's faded. Merlin worried if he might have given up. Then it roared up again, with more stability and authority than Merlin had ever heard in anyone before.

"ENOUGH NOW."

And it did the miracle of making both the others fall silent for a second. Then Morgana's voice sounded again.

"You have no right to call yourself our father!"

A door slammed, probably the one to her bedroom. As Merlin heard the door to their room open, another door was aggressively shut, this one presumably Uther. Arthur, by contrast, quietly closed the door behind him as he entered.

For a while, he stood still, lit by the streetlights from outside. Merlin had never seen him look so lost or so tired.

"I always protect him," he finally sighed wearily. He looked as if he were about to cry.

"I always protect him, but tonight I hate him just as much as she does. Oh, Merlin…"

He crept onto the bed and grabbed both his hands, "I am so sorry. Don't ever forgive me for letting him say those things. For letting him do that to you."

Merlin put a hand on his face.

"I forgive you whether you want me to or not," he said sincerely, "Though I think there are better ways of coming out."

Arthur smiled briefly, then his face sank back into that despondent look.

"He is my father," he mumbled, "And I love and respect him just as much as I'm supposed to, but sometimes I can't help thinking that it's all his fault." His voice took on a tone of bitterness. "It is, though, isn't it. It's his fault that I hated the way you made me feel, that for so long, I couldn't even think of you without feeling rotten. Sometimes, sometimes still, when I look at you I feel disgusting. Like I'm the lowest of the low, like the very happiness you give me makes me unworthy of being happy… And that's all him, and that's why I just couldn't tell him…"

"But you did," Merlin said quietly, brushing away a tear from Arthur's cheek, "You… You said you loved me."

"Yes." Arthur leaned in even closer, so their faces were less than an inch apart. He looked into Merlin's eyes, unblinking. "I do love you, Merlin. And there is nothing wrong with that. No matter what he says."

And with that, Merlin was pulled into Arthur's arms for a tight embrace.

"I won't let anything or anyone hurt you again," Arthur whispered.

Merlin replied with a kiss. He knew it was a foolish promise; Arthur couldn't control the words and actions of people like his father, or those forces of the world that were likely to cause him harm. But it was a loving promise, and a sincere one.

"Nor I you," he whispered back - the promise just as impossible to keep, but the words soaked in the same devotion.

They fell asleep like that, and despite his bleak assumptions, Merlin had no bad dreams that night.

Nor any night after.