CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

Merlin snuck down the hospital corridor dressed only in a gown, thankful they didn't open at the back anymore. He was unsteady on his legs after the examination, having spent almost an hour trying to convince the doctor that the tearing was his own fault. It had been the most embarrassing hour in living memory. He knew the doctor didn't believe him, which meant at some point a counsellor would be arriving to ask him subtitle questions in an attempt to discover if he'd been raped. He'd have to tell the whole story again, only this time the man or woman, probably a woman, would see he was holding something back; she'd push and pull till she got it out of him, all of it, every single thing he had locked away in his head and heart and he knew what her diagnosis would be. Just as he'd always told himself. Stockholm.

He shook his head as he walked. Maybe it was Stockholm; frankly he'd given up caring. It didn't matter why he had these feelings; all that mattered was how real they were and they were real. He hadn't believed that, not for a while, but after seeing Arthur's reaction to his self-harming punishment sex and then seeing how he'd almost died to keep his promise, how could he not believe and trust his feeling for Arthur or the slightly older man's for him.

Merlin ducked behind a wall when he heard a nurse coming towards him and waited for the stout red head to walk past before he carried on. He needed to see Arthur. Needed to make sure he was alright. The doctor had refused to tell him anything, so Merlin had little choice that to go in search of him. He'd luckily heard two nursed carelessly talking about them both at the nurses' station. They mentioned thankfully, were Arthur was. Merlin took each step cautiously, fearing capture. Was it ridiculous that he had to sneak through a hospital to be with the man he loved? Just to make sure he was alright. He thought so, many would disagree.

He finally reached the room after what felt like an eternity of walking. He was grateful there hadn't been some policeman or other posted at his door, at least not yet. Carefully Merlin pushed it open, hoping there wasn't a load of doctors and nurses surrounding the bed. Stepping over the threshold of the all but empty room, Merlin closed the door quietly and turned towards Arthur.

At the bedside, Merlin's legs finally gave way and he had to grip the side of the bed tight to stop from falling. He looked horrific; his face had swollen up more than it had been at the house. He had tubes coming out of his mouth and nose, machines beeping around him and a large bandage wrapped around his head. He looked close to death and Merlin felt the tears falling down his cheeks. He pressed a shaky hand to Arthur's, wrapping their fingers together as he settled himself on the side of the bed. "Arthur. I know you can hear Me." his voice was whisper, soft and rough from the tears clawing their way free of his throat. "I'm sorry Arthur. I'm sorry you ended up here, like this." he squeezed his fingers. "I'd rather be dead than have to see you like this."

Merlin swiped at his eyes, smearing the water across his cheeks. He just sat there, in silence, his fingers knotted with Arthur's. He couldn't think of what to say, or do or think really. He just needed to be there, at Arthur's side. It always felt so right and natural to be there. Like destiny or fate, something silly like that. How could what he was feeling be wrong, be fake, when he was thinking like that? Surely that meant what was between them was real? "It is real. I know it is. You know it is. - It doesn't matter what they say Arthur, what they tell me. - What they make me tell myself, I'll always know it's really. It wouldn't hurt this bad if it wasn't." He was stroking small circles into the back of Arthur's motionless cold hand with his thumb. "I've met my father Arthur. - Well, not so much met, we haven't really spoken or anything. Except for when he demanded I leave your side. But I know it's him. He looks just like me. My mum always said I looked like him." Merlin sighed.

He hadn't gotten around to telling Arthur about himself, about him mum and Gaius and the mystery surrounding his father because it had all hit the fan, but now he wanted to tell him, wanted Arthur to know everything. "I think my mum loved him a lot. She rarely talked about him when I was growing up, she just used to say that he was a really good person and would countless be a great man. That he was a genius and that I got my brains from him. - I never really cared about who he was or whether or not I took after him, I had my mum and my uncle Gaius. - But after mum died, I…well, I began to wonder, began to want." Merlin let out a heavy huff of air. "The strange thing was I didn't want to find him, I wasn't going to go in search of him, maybe because in a ridiculous way, I wanted him to find me. Cause if he did that then it meant that he actually wanted me, that he cared."

Merlin swallowed hard and shifted further on the bed. "And he did, he came looking. When I needed him most he came looking." a small smile pulled at Merlin's lips. "Do you think it's silly Arthur, that I'm actually glad, that I'm feeling a strange kind of love for the man? - I think its weird." he sighed. "I don't even know him. He could be some kind of weirdo or psychopath…."

"Sociopath actually."

A voice startled Merlin out of his conversation, his head snapping around so fast it made him dizzy and he almost toppled off the bed, but was saved by two thin long arms.

"Careful."

Merlin looked up into blue eyes a thousand shaded lighter than his own. "T-thanks…I - Don't call the nurses."

Sherlock frowned. "Why would I do that?"

Merlin matched that frown exactly, a perfect copy. "Because I'm not meant to be in here."

"Because they think he abused you." He said in a factual tone, like he was talking to a stranger.

Merlin nodded before quickly jumping to Arthur's defense. "But he didn't. I swear he didn't. I consented to everything." his gaze turned to Arthur as he remembered their last time together. "He didn't though. So if either of us is the abuser it's me."

Sherlock watched his son closely, watched the way he interacted with the unconscious man in the bed. It was strange how much of himself he could see in Merlin. He could imagine himself sat in a similar way if it had been John lying there. "These moronic doctors want you to speak to a therapist."

"I don't need therapy." Merlin snapped a little too loudly.

"That as may be but you have little choice, if you don't speak to them, they may not let you return to London with me and John."

Merlin's head snapped around to stare at his father. "London?"

"Of course. You will live with us. Well at the same address, there is a spare flat you can have. It should be livable by the time we return."

Merlin's gaze hardened. "I don't want to live in London. I have university and friends in Cardiff."

"That is irrelevant. You can transfer your studies to a university or collage in London and as for your so-called friends; they didn't even realize you were missing." Sherlock said matter-of-factly.

Merlin's face dropped, knowing his father was right. But that didn't change anything. He wasn't going to move to London. Cardiff was his home and nothing would change that. Especially a man he'd only known a few hours. "I don't care, I'm not moving." he said stubbornly.

Sherlock glared at him, blue eyes meeting blue eyes. "I'm your father."

"So?" Merlin's tone hardened.

"I have been informed that it is my duty to protect you."

"Huh, since when?" Merlin scoffed. "I haven't heard from you in nineteen years, now suddenly you want to play Daddy. I don't think so."

"I stayed away for your own protection."

"Lot of good that did." Merlin snapped. "I'm assuming this is all down to you."

Sherlock lifted his chin, straightened his spine and met his son's angry gaze silently.

"So I was kidnapped to get to you?"

"Yes."

The room filled with a tense silence, Merlin turning his attention back to Arthur, Sherlock just staring at his son, still unable to understand the emotions bubbling inside him.

"Why?" Merlin frowned.

"Pardon?"

"I asked why? There has to be a reason?" Merlin turned back to his father. "What are you?"

"I'm a consulting detective." Sherlock said with that arrogant pride of his.

"A what?"

Sherlock sighed. "I consult with the police on difficult cases – Because their morons and would be lost without me."

"Oh." Merlin frowned, processing the new information. "I see, so you piss some criminal off and now he wants revenge via me?"

"It's far more complicated than that." Sherlock told him.

"I'm listening."

"There is a man called Moriarty. He is my nemesis…."

"So what, now you're a super hero." Merlin scoffed, rolling his eyes.

Sherlock glared. "The man is dangerous, Merlin. He is responsible for countless crimes, including murder, trafficking and forgery, and that's just on a dull day. - He sees it as a game and I'm his opponent. Three months ago he kidnapped John and told me in no uncertain turns that he was going to destroy me, one person at a time."

Merlin was actually trembling at the idea that some madman was willing to kidnap and kill him just to destroy his father.

"When you went missing I knew the game had begun. I've spent the past month trying to find you but…" Sherlock features darkened, he hadn't to admit failer. "…he was too cleaver."

"But you did find me." Merlin said blandly.

"Because he let me." The consulting detective walked to the window. "If he hadn't had, you might have…."

Merlin swallowed, shaking his head. "No. Arthur would have saved me, he did save Me." he turned his blue eyes back to the sleeping man, their fingers knotted together.

Sherlock just stared out of the hospital window and his heart leapt into his throat at the sight of a billboard across the street, in red paint sprayed across it were the words. I Own You. "Then do not repay what he has done for you but being an idiot." Sherlock said a little breathlessly. "I can protect you back at Baker Street." his voice was strained from the pounding of his heart.

Merlin heard the tone and somewhere something clicked. "For how long?"

"Until Moriarty is dealt with." Sherlock stated matter-of-factly.

"Fine. - But…"

Sherlock turned to stare at his son. "But?"

"What about Arthur?" Merlin asked nervously.

Sherlock's gaze flickered from Merlin to Arthur and back again. "He is part of a large criminal enterprise; he is the son of a very powerful and dangerous man and not to mention he has held you hostage for the past month."

Merlin stared down at Arthur in shock. "He's Moriarty's son?" he gasped.

"Of course not." Sherlock sighed. "His father is not that dangerous. His father is Uther Pendragon. He runs a group of ex-military types that can be hired for assassination and kidnappings. The only reason he is not already in prison is because he has good lawyers and an army of people to take the fall. Nothing ever touches Uther Pendragon." Sherlock stated like he was giving a lecture at a university. Like there was no emotional connection at all.

"So what will happen to Arthur?"

"He will probably be treated like any other member of his father's firm. He'll be hung out to dry. Family loyalty isn't on the top of Pendragon's list of priorities."

"He didn't hurt me and he was only following orders. Can't you, you know, talk to the police, if your some great detective? Can't you get them to let him go?"

Sherlock frowned. "That would be impossible. He is still guilty of holding you hostage Merlin and probably a dozen other crimes that he must pay for."

"But he's changed. He didn't want to do those things, he told me. - He hated his job." Merlin pleaded desperately. "Please?"

Merlin turned sad pleading eyes on Sherlock and the detective felt something in his chest break, as well as the sudden urge to give the boy whatever he wanted. "I'll talk to Lestrade. - If you speak to the therapist."

Sherlock may not believe in therapy but John did and he trusted John. So Merlin would go into therapy and Sherlock would see what he could do about Arthur Pendragon.

A/N: thank you for reading and reviewing.