Notes: Again, I beg for some kind of amnesty. Please don't hate me too much...And, just for the record, the next one is the only chapter I've got a song/title for before it's complete.
If you could only see
The beast you've made of me.
I held it in but now it seems you've set it running free.
Screaming in the dark,
I howl when we're apart.
Howl -Florence + The Machine
Chapter Twenty-Two - Beasts/Apart
"I'm going back to the hospital," Merlin said, staring up at the ceiling in the dark, his fingers tangled in Gwaine's, clinging almost tight enough to cut off the circulation. "As soon as they'll let me in, I'm going back."
"Okay," Gwaine answered, his heart twisting in his chest, lungs aching, each breath gravel-filled and painful. Evasion was fine in a relationship, even a friendship; it was expected, almost, because no one ever told someone everything, no one ever even wanted to. This wasn't that, though, wasn't the kind of silence that was acceptable.
This was a lie, probably the worst one Gwaine had ever told Merlin, and he was never going to be forgiven for it.
"Do you want me to come with you?" he offered, suppressing as much of his guilt as he could, even as he hoped the answer wasn't going to be a yes; if Arthur had wanted Merlin to know where he was, he would have told him, and for now, Gwaine was willing to keep his secret, as much as he could. Lying to Merlin in the dark he could do, but in the daylight, in the hospital, standing beside him in front of Arthur's empty hospital bed, the truth would win out.
"No," Merlin said softly. "No, I don't think Arthur would want that. I'm not even sure he wants me there."
"He will," Gwaine said. "He just needs time."
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"Thank you for being here," Merlin said, pausing by the door to hug Gwaine just as tightly as he had during the night, during the hours of wakefulness, holding on like his life depended on having someone to hold on to. "I don't know what I would have done without you."
Gwaine held him in return, just for second, then stepped back slowly, trying and failing to make eye contact. "I'll speak to you later, Merls," he said, then, almost silently, "I'm sorry."
"No," Merlin answered, leaning in and pressing a fleeting kiss to Gwaine's cheek, less romantic than the sort of affection Gwaine had seen more and more often from him lately; soft and sad. Over. "You haven't done anything wrong, Gwaine."
Shit, Gwaine thought again. Merlin was never going to forgive him.
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.
.
"Do you think-" Gwaine said, spreading butter on a slice of toast and cutting it into imprecise halves before sliding it across the table to Arthur.
"No, I don't," Arthur answered. "Whatever the end of that question is, I don't."
Gwaine nodded, once, and fixed him with one of those overly intense stares he was so fond of. "Sure, princess," he grinned, presumably when he got bored of the look. "You just stay here, run up my bills, eat my food, drink my booze, don't tell anyone you're here. Stay as long as you want."
"Thanks," Arthur drawled, doing his best to hide how the sarcasm stung; Val might have made him feel worthless, may have made him cowardly and isolated, destroyed every belief he ever had about himself and his strength, but he never made him feel unwelcome. If Arthur wanted to go back, Valiant would take him, would tell him that he loved him and that it would never happen again.
And yeah, Arthur knew it was a lie, was finally ready to accept that it was a lie, but…
But.
Gwaine visibly softened after a moment, grin gentling into something that was actually kind again. "Really, Arthur, you can stay," he said, this time with sincerity. "If you aren't ready to see any of the others, then stay. Just don't go back to him. I really don't want to see Merlin's face as I tell him about this."
"Yeah," Arthur agreed. "Yeah, neither do I."
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Merlin was there within half an hour of Gwaine getting home, hammering on the door as Arthur sat at the kitchen table, toast still on the plate before him, chipped mug of cold, un-drunk coffee beside it. "I need to get that," Gwaine said, quiet enough that Merlin wouldn't hear. "I took his key, but you know him as well as I do. He's not going anywhere until I open the door."
"I know," Arthur said, his voice shaking as much as his hands. "I just- don't tell him I'm here, yeah?"
"Arthur," Gwaine said, "Arthur, you have to-"
"I don't have to do anything," Arthur answered, cutting through Gwaine's words, and his hands… "Please, don't," he said, sliding to his feet so quickly that the chair shook, legs clattering against the floor, retreating to the bedroom as quickly as his legs could carry him.
"Arthur-"
Arthur shut the door behind him and collapsed against it, his breath unsteady, uneven, too close to a sob and panic and God-oh-GodohGodohGod. His vision was sparking around the edges, black and fuzzing, and Arthur didn't know how he ended up on the floor, his hands over his mouth, fighting for air, and he might not have had a panic attack before but he was pretty sure that was what was happening to him right now.
"Arthur's gone," Merlin said, his voice filling Arthur's ears, something to cling to even if he knew he didn't want to hear him at all. "He checked himself out of the hospital against the doctor's advice. They don't know who collected him, and no one's heard from him since."
Arthur waited for Gwaine to explain, to say something like I know or it was me or he's in my room, listening to every word you're saying, trying to remember how breathing works, because even if Arthur had asked him not to, he didn't think he'd actually listen.
"Shit, Merls," he said, tone bleak, and though Arthur couldn't see him, couldn't guess at his expression or posture, he couldn't help but think Gwaine sounded impressively honest for a liar. "He hasn't called you?"
"He left his mobile in the hospital," Merlin answered, and his expression Arthur could picture, could see the lines embedded in his forehead, almost feel the motion of the air as he waved his hands around, manic, pacing and pacing and pacing. "I went to see him as soon as they opened the ward, and Percival was there, just as surprised as I was. The police were there to take his statement, and he was just gone!"
"Maybe," Gwaine said slowly, not sounding quite so ready with the lie this time. "Maybe it's not what you think."
"Not what I think!?" Merlin very nearly shouted, the creaking of the floorboards ceasing as his pacing stopped; at a guess, Arthur would have said he was standing just in front of Gwaine, anger putting a halt to his flailing. "Arthur didn't call Morgana, he didn't call Lance or Leon or Gwen or Elyan, Uther didn't even know he was in the hospital until I phoned him on the way over here. It wasn't any of us who picked him up, and he's not staying with any of us. What other explanation could there be? Arthur went back to him."
"You don't know that," Gwaine said, so quiet that Arthur could barely hear him, but even so he knew what Gwaine's next words were going to be. "Merlin, he's-"
"Valiant raped him!" Merlin spat, so much fury to it, enough to silence even Gwaine, and the darkness was back, thicker and blacker than before, bringing with it the shaking and the inability to breathe and a retching, horrible nausea. "He broke Arthur's arm and his ribs and then he raped him, and now Arthur has gone back to him."
Gwaine was silent for a long time, terribly, horribly silent, and Arthur didn't know what was going to come next, didn't want to know what would come next, or even if he wanted there to be a next when every breath he managed to take felt like it was tearing him apart.
"Okay," Gwaine said, cold and just as furious. "Okay, Merlin. Give me a minute, and we can go."
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.
"Arthur," Gwaine said, resting one hand on the door his room, feeling grossly under-qualified for this. "Merlin's waiting for me in the car. You alright, mate?"
There was no reply, just the sound of Arthur breathing, harsh and loud in the silence that followed Merlin leaving the flat. "Arthur," Gwaine said again, trying to sound calm, strong, anything other than the ugly concern that was filling him; one of them needed to be in control, and since it clearly wasn't going to be Arthur, Gwaine figured it would have to be him. "I'm not telling Merlin where you are until you're ready, but I need to know you're okay before I leave."
"I'm okay," Arthur answered, though it sounded like the farthest thing from the truth Gwaine had ever heard. "Go with Merlin."
"Arthur-"
"Go with him!" Arthur snapped, his breathing still too loud, wheezing and desperate. "Go after him before he goes on his own and gets hurt."
"Okay," Gwaine agreed, shifting his hand from the doorknob, stepping away from the door; he had a choice, now, between staying here and failing to help Arthur and going after Merlin, where he might actually be able to be of some use. "I'll be gone for about an hour, I reckon, but I've got my phone if you need me, Merlin's got his, and we can both be back here in minutes. I'll keep him safe, Arthur."
"I know," Arthur answered, slightly calmer, slightly less lost. "Thank you."
Don't thank me, Gwaine thought, but the only thing he said was, "You're welcome."
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"Where is he?!" Merlin demanded when Arthur's scumbag rapist ex finally opened the door, pushing forwards into the house before the bastard could stop him. "Arthur? Arthur Pendragon, get yourself down here now! We're leaving!"
"He's not here," Valiant said, his hand clamping around Merlin's arm, yanking hard enough that he stumbled to a halt. "Get the fuck out of my house before I throw you out."
"I wouldn't do that if I was you," Gwaine said, slow and considered, an edge of threat to it that Merlin had never heard from him before, and the hand pressing bruises into his arm let go. "Merlin's just going to go look around, make sure you're telling the truth, and you and I are going to have a little chat about the ethics of putting people in the hospital."
.
.
.
"He's not here," Merlin said, stomping downstairs with feet so heavy that Gwaine was almost surprised he didn't go straight through the steps. "He's not fucking here," he said a second time, storming straight past Gwaine and out through the front door, slamming it behind him so hard that the door-frame shook.
Gwaine glanced after him but didn't follow; since the car keys were still in his pocket, Merlin wasn't going anywhere yet, and either way Gwaine wasn't done.
"I did tell you he wasn't here," the unforgivable piece of shit cornered between Gwaine and the wall next to the front door said. "If you'd listened, I could have saved you some time."
"Generally," Gwaine said slowly, just as much fury to it as Merlin when he finished searching the house for Arthur, "I don't make a habit of believing worms like you."
He paused, rearranging his grip on Valiant's shirt, and if he 'accidentally' managed to gouge a few holes in the bastard's flesh as he did so, that was hardly something to worry about. "So," Gwaine finished, leaning in, because threats were always far more effective from up close, "The next time you is much as breathe near either of them, I will bury you."
Gwaine stepped away, ready to turn his back and leave, unwilling to give that scumbag a second more of his time, not when there was Merlin to worry about, not when there was Arthur, having a completely reasonable mental breakdown in his bedroom.
And then there was a noise from outside, the loudest, angriest bellow Gwaine had ever heard, followed immediately by the sound of shattering glass, and Gwaine's fist was in the air before he realised what he was doing, slamming forward into Valiant's face with a deeply satisfying, meaty thud. "I. Will. Bury. You," he repeated, opening and slamming the door with an enthusiasm that equalled Merlin's, then went to see whether there was any damage he could repair.
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Most of the time, Mithian loved her job.
She'd planned on working in homicide, originally, but her stomach wasn't all that fond of it, as it turned out, and at least in missing persons there was sometimes a happy ending out there. Not always; there were plenty of people who vanished and never showed up again, but they managed to find more than they didn't, and there was nothing quite as heart-warming as seeing parents reunited with their children, husbands with their wives, friends and lovers and families made whole again. It wasn't always easy, but she was good at it, and, honestly, she loved it.
Usually.
"I'm sorry, sir," she said, quite truthfully, reaching out to pat the hand of the man sitting at the opposite side of her desk. "I can't imagine how hard this must be for you, but until he's been missing for forty-eight hours, there's nothing we can do."
"I understand," the man answered, dragging a hand through his hair. "Thank you, Officer Nemeth."
"You're welcome, Mr Smith," she said, clasping his hand again, cursing herself for her heart; what she was about to do broke all kinds of regulations, would almost certainly result in some kind of disciplinary action if she was caught, but the man's face… She'd never been able to watch someone suffer, not if there was the chance she could do something to help. "There's nothing we can do officially, sir, but if you give me your friend's details, I'll start making some enquiries."
"His name is Arthur," Smith said, "Arthur Pendragon. And if you want a place to start, I suggest you try here." He picked up a pen from her desk, writing an address in squat, blocky writing, followed by a name, then spun the scrap of paper around so that she could read it.
"Thank you, Mr Smith," Mithian said. "I'll do what I can."
"Thank you, Officer Nemeth," he said. "Please, call me Valiant."
Mithian nodded, smiled – polite, sincere, not overly cheerful – and stood up to shake his hand, waiting until he was out of her office before picking up the phone on her desk and pressing the 2 on the number pad; she knew the number by heart, but having it on speed dial was, in the long run, considerably quicker, no matter how long it had taken her to figure out how to set up the stupid thing.
"Nemeth, Mithian," she said, when asked to confirm her name, then proceeded to answer a string of questions that were just as familiar as the phone number. "I'd like a full background check please. Emrys, Merlin. That's E-M-R-Y-S, yes. As soon as possible, please. Yes, I have the address here."