Months have passed since the incident with Lee Unwin and the sudden reveal of Harry's mate. Harry threw himself into his work, taking every mission that become available. He busied himself in his office when there was nothing else to do. It was all Harry could do to repress the onslaught of desperation he felt to make sure the young child was safe and looked out for - he did just lose his father after all.

The compulsion to do so was overwhelming; even Merlin has begun to suspect that something was wrong.

"You doing alright there, Harry? You look hankered." Merlin states, matter-of-factly as he enters Harry's office.

Harry looks up at him bemused as Merlin sits across from his desk. "A gentleman never comments on one's lack of enervation, Merlin. It's rude."

Merlin scoffs "You've not quite been yourself for a while now, Harry. Don't think I haven't noticed. You are not the only one who took Lee's passing hard."

Harry sighs and takes off his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. "I apologize, Merlin. I did not mean to come across as crass. What was it that you needed?"

"I came to see you. I think it's time we have a consultation."

Harry raises an eyebrow, "A consultation? Whatever for?"

"You have been showing signs of PTSD…." Merlin briefly hesitates before powering through. "You've not been the same since we came back from the Middle East. As you have not yet had any recent medical examinations, I think we should do so."

Harry heaves a sigh. "Rest assured, my friend. I do not suffer from PTSD; that is not what ails me."

"Then what is the matter, Harry?" Merlin says slightly exasperated. "In the four years that I have known you, I have never seen you act like this."

"…I met my mate."

Merlin's expression clears. "Oh! Well, why didn't you say something sooner you bugger! Who is the lucky lad? Or lass?" Merlin says as an afterthought.

Harry flinches. "It is not something to be celebrated, my friend."

"Oh, come now!" Merlin says bewildered. "It cannot be that bad. Your mate is supposed to be a person who whole bodily complements yourself, another extension of your being, your missing half. Isn't that what you have always said? I did not think you were one to be so shallow, Harry."

"No," Harry grieves. "It is not one of those instances."

"How is it not?" Merlin presses. "You have met your mate and have deemed him or her to be unbecoming of you. You would rather suffer denying the bond then-"

"It's Lee's son."

Merlin sputters for a moment before the room falls into silence.

"Ah" Merlin says quietly, brows furrowed. "Gary should be about four now."

"Yes." Harry sighs shamefully. "Now you see my struggle. I'm beginning to think PTSD would be much more welcomed."

"Am I right to assume you are not pursuing him then?"

"How can I?" Harry says aghast. "He is practically still a babe, and I am twenty-two years old. I'd be a monster to even consider it."

"Have you experienced any romantic feelings or sexual urges concerning the boy?"

"No!" Harry snaps, eyes narrowed sharply. "I am not a pedophile!"

"No, I did not think so." Merlin assuages. "The bond does not work that way. You know this, Harry. Until he becomes of age your feelings and instincts concerning him will only be platonic."

"That does not remove the fact that he is still a child." Harry persuades irritably.

"No, but the fact still remains that during your meeting with Gary, no matter how brief, he saw you and will come to understand exactly who you are to him in time." Merlin says quietly. "…He will look for you. Would you have him suffer the pain of an unclaimed bond and a mate for the entirety of his life?"

Harry clenches his eyes shut at the aching pain in his chest at the imagery.

"No," Harry chokes out. "If, in time, he comes looking for me I will accept it as fate had planned. But I will not pursue him until then."

"How will he even begin to know where to look for you? You do realize he has nothing to go on, right? You are damning yourself to a lifetime of pain and misery, Harry." Merlin says gruffly, eyes furrowed in concern.

"I have placed a medal of valor in his care… the one with our number on the back."

Merlin's eyes light up. "Oxfords not brogues."

"But of course." Harry smirks, tilting his head.

Now it's time to let fate decide.