Disclaimer: Don't own Merlin.
Warnings: Language, non-explicit discussion of an attempted rape.
A/N: A slighly fluffier chapter now, to get away from all the mental angst
~III~
"Inside him, the slowing
the faltering,
voltage.
But still
there's this brilliant
flicker on the surface,
arc lights
on a dragged canal"
Arthur keeps saying he's sorry and he's stopped crying now but he still looks utterly distraught.
"Please don't apologise," Merlin says. He's feeling horribly confused and weirdly guilty and everything is just too much, he needs it all to slow down…
"You and Gilli… I thought." Arthur stops, pained. "When I first saw you, I thought…" He trails off again.
Merlin waits as Arthur collects himself.
"It reminded me of… the thing with Morgana."
Merlin feels a cold weight in his stomach because he knows exactly what Arthur's talking about. He always calls it 'the thing with Morgana', unable to be any less vague after all this time because Merlin knows using the word rape or assault or even attack is too painful, too harsh on his friend's tongue.
The first time Arthur mentioned it they were sixteen and it was the week after Morgana had left for university. Uther was away for the weekend and Merlin had taken advantage of the man's absence to spend the weekend at Arthur's. He'd never admit it to his friend, but Arthur's dad scared him a bit. He always gave Merlin that same appraising look when he saw him; as though he was weighing him up and finding him severely wanting.
He also clearly disapproved of Arthur and Merlin sharing the same bed after Merlin had come out. He never did more than sigh when he came down to breakfast in the morning and saw Merlin there, but once Merlin had overheard him asking Arthur if he thought it was appropriate that "that boy" was always spending the night.
"His name is Merlin," Arthur had gritted out. "And I don't see what's inappropriate about my best friend sleeping over."
Some of Merlin's anger at Uther died away as he heard Arthur's response. It wasn't often his friend stood up to his dad, and Arthur going to bat for him was a pleasant surprise.
However, he was still mad enough to walk into the kitchen and greet Arthur with a casual "Morning, babe," – which gratifyingly sent Uther striding from the kitchen with a look of disgust on his face. Arthur's expression was a picture of astonishment before he met Merlin's eyes and they both burst out laughing.
The Pendragon House always seemed slightly austere and off-putting when Uther was there; but when he was gone it was like another world. With his father away, Arthur's personality seemed to expand to fill the space; warm and inviting. Merlin no longer felt like a visitor, but more a cherished guest as he and Arthur messily made tortillas in the kitchen or played X-Box in the living room or watched DVDs side by side in Arthur's bed. It was Arthur's house when Uther was away, and to Merlin it felt like a home away from home.
~III~
That weekend, the last one before school started again, they had decided to get rip roaringly drunk.
"It's sixth form now," Arthur said as he shoved a fourth (or was it fifth?) beer in Merlin's hand. "It's all A-Levels and uni choices and responsibility from here on out. We gotta have fun while we can."
"Since when have you cared about responsibility?" Merlin snorted.
"I'm responsible. I am responsibility itself. If I was a superhero, I'd be Captain Responsible…ness."
"You're drunk," Merlin sniggered, then slightly undermined his own superiority by falling off his lawn chair.
"I'm not drunk," Arthur said grandly. "I am a Pendragon and we do not get drunk, we merely get… merry."
"Drunk!" Merlin sang out, tugging on Arthur's leg until he overbalanced and fell on the garden path next to Merlin.
"Big mistake, Emrys," Arthur said, narrowing his eyes and without warning he pounced on Merlin and began tickling him mercilessly.
"Ah! No, not fair!" Merlin wheezed. He was ticklish practically everywhere and Arthur was almost completely resistant… except on his knees…
Merlin twisted slightly and latched on to Arthur's kneecap.
"No, no!" Arthur yelped. "Truce?"
"No way," Merlin said, pressing his advantage. Until Arthur flipped him over on his back.
"The tables have turned!" Arthur shouted in his best superhero voice, and Merlin squirmed just enough to knock his beer over onto Arthur's leg.
"And now the tables have turned, er, back!" Merlin yelled in triumph.
Arthur leapt up as he felt the beer on his jeans. He looked down at Merlin, his eyes glinting.
"You've really done it now, Emrys. It's the pond for you."
"Arthur, no!" Merlin pointed a warning finger in the air. "Don't even think about it."
Arthur smirked, like a lion at his prey. Merlin attempted to roll away but Arthur grabbed him and hoisted him in the air and began carrying him across the garden.
"Don't you dare Arthur, don't you dare- mfmph!" Merlin's protests were rudely cut off as Arthur unceremoniously dropped him in the large ornamental pond.
He emerged coughing and spluttering, strips of pond weed sticking to his hair. Arthur was nearly crying with laughter.
"Fine, you win." Merlin said, defeatedly. "Help me out."
He stuck his hand out. As Arthur grabbed it, Merlin grinned and pulled hard. There was a tremendously satisfying noise as Arthur crashed into the water beside him.
"Cannot believe you fell for that!" Merlin crowed as Arthur stood up, a bulrush lodged firmly behind his ear.
His victory celebrations were short lived when Arthur pulled him back down under.
~III~
Ten minutes later, they went back in the house, dripping all over the kitchen tiles. Arthur sent Merlin to shower while he made hot chocolate on the stove, then went for one himself when Merlin returned, leaving strict instructions about how to stir it.
"I think I can make hot chocolate," Merlin said.
"This isn't bloody Options Merlin, it's all the way from Italy. Ciccolata Calda," Arthur said with such a ludicrously exaggerated Italian accent that Merlin collapsed into laughter again.
"Alright Gino D'Acampo, chill out," he said and Arthur flicked him the Vs as he left.
Merlin stopped laughing when Arthur returned wearing only a towel wrapped round his waist. He was suddenly very interested in ladling out the hot chocolate as Arthur reclined in his chair, running his hands through his wet hair.
Fighting the urge to go over there and see what that hair felt like for himself, Merlin brought the mugs to the table. He wrapped his hands tightly around his, the warmth a welcome distraction.
"Suits you that," Arthur said, nodding towards Merlin's shirt. He'd just grabbed one out of Arthur's tops from his drawer, not really registering that it was a football shirt. "Maybe this is the year you finally join the team."
"Yeah or I could repeatedly punch myself in the face, that sounds fun too."
Arthur laughed.
"You should try it! You're fast enough, I've seen you run. Bit on the scrawny side obviously, but we'd soon toughen you up."
"Gee, I can't wait. Although I really am quite busy with that whole punching myself in the face thing, you know."
Arthur shook his head.
"Such a nerd, Merlin."
"Nerds are in now, didn't you hear? Geek chic and all that," Merlin said distractedly. It was getting increasingly hard to concentrate with Arthur sat there shirtless, moisture still gleaming on his torso, his nipples all pink and Jesus…
Merlin took a gulp of hot chocolate to try and snap out of it and promptly choked.
Arthur came over to bang him on the back, which was helpful, but then he stayed in Merlin's general proximity, all half-naked and clean smelling, which definitely wasn't helpful.
"You're a delicate flower, aren't you Merls?" Arthur grinned.
"Shut up. Anyway, I thought we were trying not to catch cold," Merlin said, gesturing to Arthur's bare chest.
Good God, his stomach was nice. All sort of lean and muscly and tanned, like if you touched it, it'd be all smooth and-
"Suppose you're right," Arthur said languidly, stretching as he walked towards the door. "Be right back."
Merlin breathed a sigh of relief that Arthur hadn't seemed to notice his eyes had practically glazed over with lust. Then he had a small moment of bereavement that Arthur's lovely torso was soon to be covered by a shirt.
"Moment of silence for Arthur's naked chest," Merlin whispered to his cocoa and then snorted with laughter.
Okay, perhaps he was still quite drunk.
But when Arthur walked back into the room, his expression had changed. He looked pensive, even slightly sad.
"What's wrong?" Merlin asked instantly.
"No, nothing, I just… weird seeing Morgana's room empty. Haven't got used to it yet."
Merlin nodded. They didn't talk about Morgana much, although Merlin had been round the house enough in recent years to know that Morgana seemed to bring tension with her wherever she went. He had woken up in Arthur's bed more than one time in the early hours by furious whispers, and surmised that it was Morgana stumbling in late and drunk to meet Uther's cold disapproval. He could usually feel Arthur awake beside him, tense and rigid, but he never said anything about it so Merlin had never brought it up. He was an only child and never really knew how sibling relationships were supposed to be. Gwen and Elyan seemed to get on well, but perhaps that's because they were both so good natured. Gwaine had a little sister he mercilessly teased, but woe betide anyone else who tried to cross her. Those relationships just seemed a lot more easy and natural than Arthur and Morgana's. From what Merlin could pick up, Morgana had gone off the rails a bit and was driving Uther crazy. Arthur just seemed to want to stay out of it.
But he had known Arthur would be sad to see Morgana go off to Brighton, especially because he suspected Arthur could use a buffer at home between him and his father. Merlin certainly wouldn't like to have all of Uther's attention suddenly focussed on him.
He looked at Arthur's downcast face.
"Remember the first time you invited me round here? But you didn't tell Morgana I was coming and she caught me in your room and put me in a headlock 'cause she thought I was a burglar?"
Arthur laughed.
"Oh I'm glad you found it funny, I was bloody terrified!" Merlin said indignantly, but he was smiling.
"That's nothing; when I was six I was playing cops and robbers, and tied her Barbies up outside in the mud to be hostages. When she saw I got dirt in Sindy's hair she chased me round with a rolling pin. I had to hide up a tree until Uther got home."
Arthur looked much less meditative, so Merlin kept the conversation going. To his surprise, they spent the next two hours just talking about Morgana. Arthur suddenly seemed to have a lot he wanted to say, and Merlin felt inexplicably honoured to be learning so much about his friend.
Then at one point he was watching the way Arthur's eyes danced when he laughed, and he realised he was in trouble. Because lusting after Arthur's body was one thing, but sitting here listening to Arthur talk, he felt such rush of feelings; sort of tenderness and protectiveness and softness all mixed together. It overwhelmed him.
He loved Arthur. And it may have only been sixteen year old, hormonal, pining, unrequited love but it was love nonetheless.
And he was in trouble.
~III~
It wasn't until they were lying in bed that Arthur told him. Merlin had been close to drifting off, pleasantly warm and full of hot chocolate and an indefinable satisfied feeling that he was right where he should be.
"I'm gonna miss Morgana," Arthur said suddenly.
"Even though you'll be safe from the rolling pin?" Merlin teased.
But Arthur didn't smile back.
"I wasn't… I never... I wasn't much of a brother to her," Arthur said in a rush.
"Eh? What?" Merlin propped himself up on his elbows, aware that this conversation had taken a turn somehow.
Arthur opened his mouth to speak and then abruptly closed it again. "Never mind," he said.
"Arthur, what is it?" Merlin said gently, because his friend suddenly seemed on the verge of tears.
"Something happened once," Arthur said and his voice sounded very small. "I let her down."
"Do you want to talk about it?" Merlin said anxiously.
"No. I mean… I don't know." Arthur looked truly miserable, and it made Merlin's heart ache.
"You don't have to tell me anything. But, if you want to…"
Arthur turned away, leaving Merlin to look at his back. Merlin assumed it was his way of ending the conversation, and he was trying to decide whether to press Arthur or just let it go. Then his friend spoke.
In a quiet voice, he told him what everything that had happened. And Merlin felt sick down to his very core, sick and furious that someone would do this; that these actions could echo down the years the way they had.
Arthur sounded calm when he told the story, but Merlin could feel the pain radiating from him; the hurt and anger of a helpless twelve year old.
"I wish I had…" Arthur began and then stopped, sighing.
"You did everything you could," Merlin said. "You did the right thing."
"I- I hesitated," Arthur said and Merlin could hear the self-hate in his voice.
"Yes," Merlin said strongly. "And then you did the right thing."
"Sometimes I think everything changed that night," Arthur said and his voice sounded very far away.
Merlin didn't say anything to that because Arthur was right; and spouting some cliché at him about time being a great healer would be no help at all. Instead he said:
"Thank you for telling me."
"Yeah." Arthur laughed faintly. "Guess you owe me a secret now."
"I watched Titanic last week and cried three times," Merlin said promptly and thank God, Arthur laughed.
"I think you should have taken that to your grave, mate."
"Leo and Kate forever," Merlin said.
Arthur chuckled again. Looking at his friend's back, Merlin felt the same wave of feeling that had swept over him in the kitchen, only ten times more intense now that Arthur seemed so vulnerable and sad. All he wanted was to be close to Arthur, to try and console him in any way he could. Before he had time to consider whether it was a good idea, he inched forward across the bed, sliding into place against Arthur's back and putting his arm over his friend's chest.
There was a short silence, in which Merlin temporarily forgot how to breathe.
"Merlin?" Arthur sounded bemused. "Are you spooning me?"
"Yes. No. Shut up. It's supposed to be comforting."
Merlin was pretty sure Arthur could feel his heart frantically beating in his chest, so closely pressed together were they, but he decided he didn't care. If Arthur wanted to chuck him out of the bed or scream at him for overstepping the boundaries, he'd accept it. What he wouldn't accept was the regret that he'd chickened out of holding his best friend when Arthur needed it most.
"Odd." Arthur said after a while.
"What?"
"I'm usually the big spoon."
Merlin grinned.
"Go to sleep, idiot."
Then, a little later, just as they were dropping off.
"You're a good person Arthur."
Arthur didn't respond but he seemed to settle back into Merlin's embrace, and that was more than enough.
~III~
It suddenly all makes sense now; the way Arthur reacted, his anger at Gilli, his fear for Merlin.
"Arthur, I swear, it was nothing like that-"
"I know, I know, I really do… it's just I saw the drugs and then I thought you might not be in your right mind and I panicked and-"
"Shh, okay. I understand. I'm sorry I shouted so much."
Merlin is hit with a wave of remorse about screaming at Arthur. He attempts a smile.
"You always said coke makes people act like dickheads."
Arthur gives him a wan little smile in return. Then Merlin realises Arthur's looking at his chest, and he leans behind him to grab his t-shirt, pulling it on as quickly as possible.
"I don't understand why," Arthur says, slowly, like speaking is difficult. The tear tracks are still visible on his face and he looks much younger than eighteen.
"I don't understand why you won't… eat."
"I do eat," Merlin says automatically but there's no real conviction behind it. A sharp pain is beginning to throb in his temples and he's still exhausted from the altercation with Arthur.
"I've been looking up… I mean… I did some research."
"Research?" Merlin says tiredly, leaning back on his heels.
"On, you know, eating problems." Arthur is very studiously looking away. "And… anorexia."
Merlin flinches. That word. He hates it. Makes him feel sick and scared. Even the sound of it. It sounds like what it is; something wrenched and gaunt, something hideous.
"I'm not anorexic," he says and he can say it with conviction because it's true, skipping a few meals does not an eating disorder make. He's tired and he's stressed and he's unhappy, he'll admit to all that, but the eating thing is just a habit he's got into. He can drop it when he wants.
He announces all this to Arthur, but Arthur just frowns at him, disbelief etched across his face.
"I'm serious, Arthur," he says.
"Prove it, then." Arthur says softly. "Eat with me the next few days. Eat what I eat."
Merlin opens his mouth to object, because he's not a child and Arthur can't tell him what to do, but then he rethinks. Why not? It'll get Arthur off his back, prove to him once and for all that he doesn't have an eating problem. He's happy to eat.
"Fine," Merlin says. "But no big greasy chicken wings, or any of that kebab crap from the street van. My body is a temple." He wiggles his eyes at Arthur, but Arthur still looks so damn serious.
"You mean it? You promise."
Merlin rolls his eyes.
"You want me to bloody pinky swear? Yes, I promise. It's no big deal."
Arthur smiles tentatively at him.
"Okay then."
He suddenly lets out a breath, wiping his cheeks as though he's only just realised he's been crying.
"Uh… that was…"
"Intense," Merlin says. "I feel like we just acted out an episode of Eastenders."
"Sorry I went a bit crazy."
"Yeah, same here." Merlin winces slightly when he notices a slight bruise on Arthur's jaw. "Um, sorry about hitting you."
"S'ok. You pack a surprisingly powerful punch, Merls." Arthur grins.
The use of the old nickname gives Merlin a slight warm feeling in his stomach, and he smiles back.
Arthur looks at the mantelpiece clock and Merlin thinks he probably realised he needs to get back to Mithian at the party.
"It's pretty late," Arthur says and Merlin nods, ready to bid him goodbye.
"Any chance I can crash here?"
Wrong-footed, Merlin blinks a couple of times and Arthur frowns.
"I mean, or I can go, it's whatever-"
"No, stay," Merlin says quickly. "If you don't need to get back to Mithian or…"
"I think she can do without me for one night." Arthur looks hesitant. "So I'll take the sofa?"
"Don't be stupid, Mum'll wake you up when she gets in. Besides, my bed's missed you."
There's a beat in which Merlin realises what he's just said and blushes crimson. Arthur snorts.
"Seriously Merlin, be gayer."
"Yeah, that's what I trying to do a couple of hours ago, if you hadn't noticed."
Arthur looks serious for a second at the mention of previous events, then he says, completely straight-faced, "You think Gilli's still waiting in that shed for you?"
There's a second's silence, then they both burst out laughing.
"You bastard," Merlin wheezes out.
"You love it," Arthur says and he gets to his feet, tugging Merlin up after him.
Merlin estimates Arthur hasn't slept in his bed for at least six or seven months and they're both bigger now and the little three quarter mattress is nowhere near as spacious as Arthur's king size. But something feels essentially right as they lie down next to each other, Arthur complaining about Merlin's sharp elbows and Merlin bemoaning Arthur's cold feet.
Arthur falls asleep first and Merlin lies on his back and listens to him breathe. Maybe it's not all so bad after all. Maybe he can go back to normal, feel the way he did before.
Maybe he can eat with Arthur and not feel bad about it.
There's too many maybes but Merlin decides he doesn't mind, not right at that moment, not with Arthur warm in bed beside him.