Arthur's POV

I drove back home that night, after dropping off Merlin, with my chest tight. I hadn't expected for him to get so emotional, but I probably should've. The kid had clear signs of abuse and despite his seemingly nice friends at that convenience store, it was doubtful that anyone was ever able to break through his walls and show him kindness.

I got a spark of guilt at the thought. I mean I was technically trying to rope him into my own bullshit, which wasn't fair, but we connected. I knew from the first second I saw him, and I had a mission to complete here; I needed him to do it. It had to be him. I never connected with any other potential handler. Besides, I couldn't keep going the way I was. Without a proper handler I could die while hunting and the others were obviously not doing it for me. I couldn't connect to them. I could barely even feel them through the unstable platonic connections I made, never mind hearing them properly when they tried talking to me. Too many close calls, when they couldn't reel me back in and it was getting worse the older I got, but this kid. He was the answer. I felt it. I saw it.

Besides that, it might be good for him. Even now, he was as aimless as the first night I met him. Maybe having a goal like mine could give him some confidence. Of course, maybe my line of work could destroy him. I'd seen it happen before. Weak minds had a tendency to break under pressure. Merlin wasn't weak though, because despite the abuse he'd been through, he was still functioning and maybe he didn't think much of himself right now, but he had the tenacity and wisdom of people far above his age. He had skills I didn't generally see on people his age, either. I threw him off, so he broke that fake accent of his, but before tonight I wouldn't have doubted for a second he was some country kid being raised in the city. Why he did it was a mystery, but with some proper training I was sure he could learn to keep it on even when he was thrown off kilter. Plus, he was smart and intuitive. He had potential and we had a connection. That was more than I'd ever found in the months I've lived here.

I pulled into the parking garage at my building. Half the lots around were broken down shit holes, and the other half were as ritzy as mine. Right across Ricci's as I told him, was the building I lived in. Fifth floor luxury loft. Only the best for the son of the head of the S.H. division of the military, I scoffed at myself as I stepped out of my car and headed to the elevator. Uther Pendragon's son got all the spoils and all the stress of living up to the old man. Lovely.

The Supernatural Hunting division had been a part of my life since before I could talk. My father had been the best and now I was expected to somehow be better, but unlike my father I hadn't been able to successfully find a handler by the time I was 20 and no matter what I did, how much shit I hunted, there was absolutely no way I could catch up to him. Even though I was a better weapon wielder and had higher combat ratings than Uther, it wasn't enough. My father told me that the world expected me to lead and fight and I couldn't accomplish that without a proper handler of my own. Like somehow it was my own fault I hadn't been able to find one.

The other handlers were just not compatible, it wasn't my fault the military had failed to recruit someone that could link to me properly and now, instead of hunting, I had to step away to find my own handler and attempt to recruit that person to join me. I also had to succeed. I could not fail. No matter what. Which meant, that if I had to seduce the fuck out of Merlin to get him to agree to be my handler, then so be it. I had to do, what I had to do. The end would justify the means, right?

Thousands of lives were dependent on me getting back to hunting.

I scanned my security card and pressed the button to go to the lobby right after.

Merlin Wells. The kid was fucking impossible. I was being the perfect charming guy and he still insisted on pushing me away. I ran my tongue over my bottom lip at the thought of him. I didn't lie when I called him cute. He was cute. Too cute and the way he acted made me want to push his buttons a bit. Now what did that say about me?

I made a face as I walked through the lobby, waving at the security guards manning the front desk, and into another elevator I went. Up to my loft, which was too big and not big enough. Something only someone sharing a space with Percival could understand. My so called "guard" a.k.a. my appointed nanny. In a different world, he and I could probably have been friends, in this one though? He was just an unneeded pain in my ass. Insisting on constantly reminding me that time was in fact ticking and that my dad wanted results three months ago. I was oh so clearly behind on my assignment, but sight or no sight, finding someone compatible wasn't as simply as throwing a rock off the building. Trust me, if this whole experience had taught me anything was that nothing that, should be simple, ever was.

The elevator opened right to my loft and I instantly cringed when I spotted Percival on the couch. Beer in hand, "Kind of early to end a date, don't you think?"

"Shut up," I sneered, walking to the fridge for a cold one myself.

He stood up and glared at me, "You do realize that I report directly to Uther, don't you? What the hell is he going to think when I write up a report about how his son likes to go on dates with underage kids?!"

"Oh for fuck's sake, seriously?" I whipped around to him and glowered, "You don't know what you're even talking about!"

"You think because you're his son that you can just throw your time away?! Act like some frivolous spoiled little brat?!"

"Are you that clueless?" I snarked, "That kid is the mission. He's compatible. Why the fuck do you think I'd waste my time with him?!"

Percival blanched at my words, "What? He's not even 18! Not even military!"

"Isn't that the point of sending me out here?! To find somebody, anybody, compatible?! He is! And I'm working him, just like I'm supposed to, so shut the fuck up!"

Percival stood wordlessly for a moment, allowing me to crack open my beer and take a hard swallow before he could respond with, "But he's not even 18."

"He will be in a couple of weeks and he's goalless. We'd be giving him something to live for. Win-win, right?"

Percival shook his head, "How low exactly can you go?"

"What else am I supposed to do? He's the first one I've met even remotely compatible! I have to at least try!"

"Fuck," he said before turning away from me, "Fuck!"

"You're tellin' me," I answered. Fuck indeed. I groaned and grabbed the glasses off my face throwing them onto the counter, "Believe me, this is not a road I want to go down, but what else can I do? It's either him or no-one."

Percival threw himself onto the couch and I grabbed him and myself another beer, before I followed.

"You've found no-one else?"

"In the four months, scouring this city? No, I haven't."

"Fuck. He's a kid," he repeated, "An abused one, no less. What the fuck? What kind of defective hunter are you?"

"I've been wondering that myself," I nodded solemnly.

"Why him?"

"I don't know," I groaned, "But it's him. It has to be. I feel it."

"Man, your life sucks."

Well, maybe hard ass Percival wasn't as bad as I thought he was.

"Tell me about it," I answered, clinking my beer to his and chugging it down like water, because at this point, what the hell else could I do?