Disclaimer: Don't own Merlin.

Warnings: Just plain old angst

A/N: Thank you so much to dragooonthegreat, Aerist, BleedingOpal, lovePEOPLEandCOWBOY, helenealbra, and bubzchoc for your wonderful reviews!

~III~

He left home months ago.
Somehow we never noticed.
He was going solo

as a conjurer:
the egg we found rotting
in the body-folds of the sofa;

caked wads
of tissues in the bin with Weetabix
compacted in them like the Mob's

car-crusher sandwiches;
potatoes spirited away
with one pass of the baggy-wristed

sweater he draped
on his bones. (What applause
when he whips it off one day

and he's gone!)

Merlin's head hurts. The rest of him doesn't feel too great either; the ulcers in his mouth are tender and sore, his stomach is twisted with a gnawing ache, and his eyes are stinging. But it's his head that's monopolising his attention right now; a dull, pounding pain that leaves him unable to concentrate, or even to hear a word being said to him.

"…don't look well…"

Someone seems to be speaking to him but he can only make out snatches of words.

"…working so much…"

If he just focus his eyes properly for a second, if he could just get a break from the steady throbbing in his head…

"…take you home…"

He blinks hard once, twice, and the world comes back into focus.

"Merlin? Are you listening?"

Gwen's face looms above him, expression anxious.

"What?" he says, then: "yeah, course."

"So you'll let Lance take you home?" Gwen says, and he looks up to see Lance hovering behind her.

"What? No, I don't need to go home."

"But Merlin, you don't look well at all."

"I'm fine."

He might have spoken a little loudly because the librarian looks over to shoot them all a glare.

"She's right, Merlin," Lance chimes in. "You look awful."

"Well, revision's not exactly a barrel of laughs, is it?" Merlin shoots back but he's so tired that there's no bite to it.

"You can take one day off." Lance says firmly. "You need to be in bed, come on."

"Guys, I really can't-"

"Please, sweetheart," Gwen says and he sees her eyes are shining, as though she's trying not to cry.

Gwen only calls him sweetheart when she's sad. Or afraid.

"Okay, fine," he says because he can't take anything in with this bitch of a headache anyway, so revising seems like a big waste of time.

And he hasn't got the energy to argue with his friends.

Gwen walks him to the car and gives him a hug, promising to call him later.

When he climbs into the passenger seat, he's hit by another wave of pain and he massages his temples.

"There's paracetemol in the glove compartment," Lance says, and Merlin gratefully dry swallows two as Lance starts the car.

Lance makes a few comments as he drives but otherwise the journey is mostly silent. When they reach Merlin's flat, he expects Lance to stay in the car. But Lance parks up and follows him into the house.

It's all too painfully reminiscent of the time he collapsed at school and Arthur took him home, so Merlin decides to nip it in the bud early.

"Thanks mate, I really appreciate it. I'm gonna go straight to bed, like you said, so…"

"Do you mind if we talk first?" Lance says quietly.

Merlin does mind, he minds very much. He's in no mood for a lecture, or even a gentle discussion. He didn't work so hard to get rid of Arthur to have Lance fall right into his place.

"Lance, my head is absolutely killing; I'm not really up for a talk right now. Maybe if you ring me in a few hours-"

"I promise I won't keep you long," Lance says in that same quiet voice. "You don't even have to talk back. Please just give me two minutes."

Merlin wants to protest but yet again, he feels too tired to argue; like his capacity for logic and reason has gone all fuzzy.

He sits down on the sofa and says, "Just two minutes," rubbing at his eyes.

Lance sits next to him and doesn't speak for a long moment.

"I know something's wrong," he says at last, and when Merlin opens his mouth, he puts up his hand. "I'm not going to ask what it is. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. But if you do want to, I will be here to help, in whatever way you need."

Lance's voice remains gentle but there's a slight tremor in it when he speaks again.

"I don't want to push you. I just want to say that you should talk about what's happening, and you should find someone to support you. It doesn't have to be me. But please don't try and do it all on your own."

Merlin can feel tears pricking at the corner of his eyes and it's so stupid because Lance has got it all twisted and he doesn't need any help. He should tell him that but he finds he can't form the words.

Lance gets to his feet.

"My time's up," he says. Then he reaches down to squeeze Merlin's shoulder before leaving the room.

It takes Merlin an age to finally get up and walk to his bedroom, and it's more to do with Lance's words than how tired he is.

~III~

Seeing Karen continues to be complicated. Without ever insisting on it, or even bringing up any difficult topic directly, she seems to have wheedled an awful lot out of him against his will. She's apparently immune to his attempts to change the subject, and she also has an uncanny sense for when he's prevaricating or lying. Not that she ever accuses him of doing so; she just somehow brings the conversation back around to the original question.

Arthur comes up, sometimes. Karen has managed to ascertain that Merlin is no longer speaking to him.

"Are you angry at Arthur?"

"No," Merlin says automatically. It's his fourth session with Karen and he's still on edge around her. He can't keep all his lies consistent in his head, and he's pretty sure she knows them all to be untrue anyway. She has a way of catching him off guard that makes him reveal more than he intends, and he hates it.

It's also hard to track what Karen knows and what she doesn't. Hunith told her everything that she knew from Arthur, but Merlin's never quite figured out exactly what Arthur said to his mother that night, or what's been said since in their clandestine phone conversations. He has to play it by ear; wait for Karen to bring incidents up first, and proceed cautiously lest he let slip any new information.

"But you won't speak to him," Karen says.

"It's hard to explain."

Karen looks at him expectantly.

"I'm not mad, I just… I don't want to deal with him right now."

"Why not?"

"'Cause it's just…it's hassle."

"In what way?"

"You know, he's all… he blows everything out of proportion."

"Do you feel he blew your eating problems out of proportion when he told your mother?"

"Yes! It was a massive overreaction, and it wasn't anything to do with him anyway."

"You think he should have kept quiet?"

"I think he should have trusted me to sort it out!"

"It sounds like you are a little angry at him, Merlin."

Merlin blinks.

"I… well… yeah, maybe I am. He made my mum worry and now I have to follow this stupid diet and waste my time at the nutritionist's and come see you-" Merlin breaks off, blushing. "Er, no offence."

"None taken," Karen smiles.

"And all for no reason, just because he thought something was wrong."

Karen nods.

"I understand why you'd be angry," Karen says. "Can I ask, have you ever looked at it from your friend Arthur's point of view?"

"Well I know what he was thinking 'cause he-"

"Wait a second." Karen holds up her hand. "Let's go back to the beginning. Trace it through together."

Merlin shrugs in compliance.

"So you collapsed in school and Arthur took you home, believing you to have not been eating properly-"

"But it was just the flu," Merlin cuts in.

"Well, you knew that. But from Arthur's perspective, all that he saw was you collapsing. It must have been scary for him."

"People faint sometimes," Merlin said sulkily.

"Then a few weeks after that, you made an agreement with Arthur to eat the same meals as he did. What prompted that decision?"

Merlin thinks back to that night; Gilli, the coke, the fight. Luckily, he's pretty sure Arthur hadn't reported the details to his mum.

"He just… he got all upset, and I wanted him to stop going on, so I agreed."

"'He got all upset'," Karen repeats. "Would it be fair to say that Arthur had probably spent the time between the two conversations worrying quite a lot about you?"

Merlin gives a non-committal nod.

"I think we can probably assume he was quite worried, if he persisted in talking to you about what was clearly a difficult topic for both of you."

Merlin doesn't respond to that.

"Then after two weeks, there was the incident in the restaurant. How do you think Arthur was feeling at that point?"

"He was overreacting, again-"

Karen interrupts.

"That's how you think he was behaving. How do you think he was feeling?"

Merlin starts to say he doesn't know, but then an image of Arthur's face that day flashes into his mind. He looked… distraught.

"I think he was afraid," Merlin admits. "And… and sad."

"Can you maybe understand a little more why he went to speak to your mother?"

"But he didn't need to," Merlin says, frustrated.

"If the positions were reversed and it was Arthur who had collapsed; Arthur who lost a significant amount of weight and then threw a meal up, what do you think you would have done?"

Merlin honestly can't answer. When put like that, he would have been concerned of course, but…

It would have been different if it was Arthur. If golden, healthy Arthur was losing weight, then clearly something would be wrong. But Merlin's always been like this, always gone through up and down phases with his appetite, it's not the same.

His thoughts are muddled, but Karen doesn't press him for an answer. She tells him to think about it for next time, and gets up to open the office door for him. When he stands, a familiar dizziness momentarily overwhelms him, but luckily Karen's back is to him and she doesn't notice.

~III~

Merlin thinks about what Karen said all the next day. The whole not speaking to Arthur thing was meant to help Arthur move on with his life, but even Merlin can admit it's been an abject failure from that perspective. Arthur was still trailing round after him, still offering him food and talking to him like they were friends. He can't seem to let go and now Merlin guiltily wonders if his blanket silence was perhaps crueller than intended. He's sure the original idea was noble, but has it reached the point where he's just trying to punish Arthur for all that's happened between them?

The thought makes Merlin deeply uneasy. His emotions have been all over the place recently and it's hard to pin down how he feels about anything. It's entirely possible that he's been letting past frustrations take the reins.

He needs to talk to Arthur. Not like they did before, there'll have to be boundaries. He doesn't want to discuss his physical or mental health, not now or ever. But if Arthur wants to talk revision, or films, or even football; Merlin can handle that.

It's only months till the end of the year, after all, and they'd all be drifting off to different parts of the country, to unis and gap years and jobs. He and Arthur might not see each other much after that, it would be nice if they could be on speaking terms again before the term ends.

(the thought of growing apart from Arthur, of living in another city and seeing him only on holidays and trips home, and later perhaps not even then, makes Merlin feel sick at heart. But he always knew this time was coming, knew that Arthur was bound for greatness and a life beyond him; knew that he would be outgrown eventually)

So it's settled. He'll talk to Arthur again. Once decided, Merlin feels a sudden urge to see Arthur right away. He checks his watch as he hurries out of the library, it's just gone five pm and Arthur should be finishing football practice right around now. Sure enough, when he crosses the playing field towards the changing rooms, he sees a trickle of people emerging.

"Hey Gavin, has Arthur already gone?" he says as one passes him by.

"No, him and Gwaine are still in there," the boy answers, jerking his thumb back towards the building.

Merlin nods. He goes and sits on the bench outside the changing room, next to the door so he can wait for Arthur to emerge.

There's an open window above him and he can hear Gwaine's distinctive laugh from inside.

"…as though she hadn't already sent me a picture of it!"

"Your life is ridiculous."

Arthur's clear voice carries through the window and Merlin pricks up his ears.

"No more ridiculous than yours, my friend. Did you think any more about my little suggestion?" Gwaine sing-songs.

"No I did not!" Arthur replies, and Merlin can tell just from his tone of voice that he's blushing.

"Coward. It's not even a big deal, everyone's watched a bit of gay porn at one time or another!"

Merlin blinks, unsure if he's heard wrong. Gay porn? What the hell? Why would Gwaine be suggesting Arthur watch gay porn?

"I highly doubt that."

"What, you think Gwen and Freya haven't? When Freya got drunk at New Year's, she told me she had a whole hard drive of-"

"Jesus!" Arthur hisses. "I do not need to hear that! Anyway, I don't care what everyone else does, it's not for me."

"Fine, whatever. So you got any other ways to figure out the whole Merlin thing?"

Merlin freezes. What Merlin thing? Does Gwaine know about the eating? Has Arthur told him? Surely he wouldn't?

And what did that have to do with gay porn anyway?

"No, I… I don't know, okay?"

"Have you thought about just talking to him?"

Gwaine sounds vaguely serious, but Arthur snorts.

"Oh yeah, and how's that conversation gonna go? 'Hi Merlin, heard you've been in love with me since forever, how's that working out for you?'"

No.

No, no, no.

For a moment, all Merlin can hear is a buzzing in his ears.

This can't be happening.

He feels numb all over. How does Arthur know? How did he find out?

Please God, let it not be true.

But it is. He heard it. And Gwaine knows too… and they're just discussing it? Like it's commonplace, like it's something they do all the time.

Like it's funny.

Merlin can't breathe properly. He staggers to his feet, barely noticing as the bench tips over behind him.

There's a noise behind him, and footsteps coming towards the door.

He sets off running.

He hears someone shouting his name behind him, but he does not, cannot, look back.

~III~

Ah, a terrible eavesdropping based misunderstanding, much like in popular 70s sitcom Three's Company! Seriously though, let me know what you think and thank you so so so much for reading and reviewing this fic, I am very appreciative.