As I am getting a little stuck on some of the other stories I wrote this up to get my mind back into them. I will be back on the other stories soon. This story has shifted on a few years, scenes are dated as always. ;-)

January 2012

Arthur was working on his latest spreadsheet, which required some concentration, but he wasn't getting that since Mordred was there. He was stood on the edge of the doorway to the study, just waiting. Arthur sighed.

"You know full well I am going to pay attention to you when you do that. And quite frankly you know better than to do that with me or Merlin. Don't stand there and stare at me. You want to talk, tell me."

Mordred took a step forward, crossing over the threshold into the office.

"You're adopting Elena?"

"Yes, you were there at the family meeting, you were there at the first meeting."

It wasn't quite so much a meeting where decisions were made, it was a time when Arthur and Merlin stated their plans. They had talked to Mordred privately before that. He was the closest involved and would be the most affected. They had spoken to Mordred to ask his permission in the first meeting, they had informed the rest of the family of their decision. Adopting Elena.

"You don't want to adopt me," Mordred said.

"Ah, I see," Arthur said, sitting back. "Okay, I think you deserve the truth."

Arthur watched Mordred tense.

"I asked Mrs Bartle about it, and it was better I got her, rather then Elena the social worker. Do you remember the Drakes, they took you in for a long while."

"Yes, then they sent me away."

"No they didn't. They looked into adopting you, and naturally your mother had to be informed. That was why you were taken away. They have to ask your mother, and she didn't want that. Mrs Bartle warned me that might happen if we try and start proceedings, and as good as the lawyers are that I could pay for this, it is too big of a mess to start with. You can come here any time you like, you can stay here for as long as you like. But if we do that, she'll invoke her right as your mother."

"I hate her," Mordred said.

"That's a bit strong," Arthur said. Mordred gave him nothing in return. Mordred just stared at him. Arthur couldn't blame him.

"I don't have that long, just a couple of years, then I can tell her, I can leave."

Arthur nodded. They could do nothing, but Arthur knew Mordred would make good on his threat. All he and Merlin were required for was to be there.

June 2014

"Happy Birthday you little shit!"

Mordred ignored his mother's boyfriend. However much he roared in the background. Mordred just calmly stuffed what he could into his rucksack. There was not much he wanted to take from the room, but he carefully lifted up the mattress to remove the letters and cards that Arthur and Merlin had sent him. The ones he had at least received, before his mother or her idiot boyfriend found them. He tucked them into one of the pockets to keep them safe and yanked the drawstring on the top, clipping down the clasps. He shrugged it onto his shoulders testing the weight. It didn't feel to heavy. Mordred had only packed what was essential and that was simply anything of sentimental value.

He didn't need to worry about much else. Most of his important stuff he had left at Arthur and Merlin's over a year ago and he very much doubted that they had thrown anything away. He hadn't seen them for all that time, but Mordred had calmly waited it out. The bag felt light enough, he knew his getaway would have to be sharp. He didn't want to be wasting time.

The thudding on the stairs caused him to tense, gritting his teeth, especially as the footsteps made their way directly to his door, and it flew open. There was a hole in the wall from where the handle had repeatedly slammed into it slowly breaking the plaster. If Gwaine ever saw the cheap walls in the flat he'd have a fit. Mordred turned to face his not-stepfather.

"Didn't you hear me?!" he bellowed.

Mordred stared back at him impassively, not responding. Instead he stayed where he was and watched the man carefully, since he was now blocking the doorway. Mordred had hoped to at least make it as far as the front door before the confrontation started, hopefully even past it. Now he waited while the man swayed, already drunk before it had even reached noon. At least his mother had managed to remain relatively sober over the last year, but in the end, Mordred knew, unless she really bothered to get rid of this man, then it would never change. And at least now Mordred knew, it was not a normal, it was not a normal family.

He watched as his not-stepfather frowned, his eyes going to the backpack on Mordred's back. Mordred saw the danger signs.

"Where you do think you're fucking going?"

"Out," Mordred informed him.

"No you're not."

"I am, I'm going out."

Mordred didn't make any move to the door. Not with the obstruction that currently blocked it. Time was, he might have just wound the man up until he laid into him, and enough noise was made that someone called the police. This time he didn't want to get held up in such a fashion. He shifted back as he assessed the situation, hoping to draw Valiant in to give him enough of a gap to dash past.

"And where have you got to go?"

Mordred's eyes narrowed. Valiant sneered, guessing exactly right.

"Those faggot foster parents of yours."

Mordred kept his face impassive at the insult. By the twisted smirk that developed on Valiant's face he had obviously given something away. However, it also gave him what he needed as Valiant lunged for him, aiming to grab hold of him. Mordred ducked, jumping up and running over his bed, the whole thing creaking ominously as he put his weight on it. He lost his footing as Valiant lashed out and got hold of one of the trailing end of one of straps. Mordred's feet slipped off the bed and he crashed down, almost onto one knee.

"You think you can just fucking walk out."

"I'm sixteen," Mordred said. "I can make the decision on my own."

He tried to pull away, as Valiant grabbed the top of one of the thick straps. Mordred snarled and lashed out aiming a blow into the man's groin, and he followed up by kicking out at his knee. Neither blow fell with much power, but it was enough of a distraction. Mordred jumped up like a sprinter off the starting blocks, wrenching himself free of Valiant's grip and he ran for the stairs. Mordred jumped from the sixth step up to the hallway to gain some distance as Valiant thundered after him. Lunging forward he grabbed the catch on the Yale lock and twisting it yanked the door. It shifted a few millimetres and then halted with a heavy thud. Looking down Mordred felt his heart stutter in horror. The lower lock remained on. He had forgotten about that, his mother probably locked it, or Valiant had before he had come up the stairs.

Mordred ignored the heavy boots and throaty chuckled from behind him instead he shot down the hallway and dived into the living room. It was one virtue of a ground floor flat, windows were easy to get out of, and one of them in the living room didn't lock, it never had. The only people that had used it to break in had been Valiant's drug dealers, when he had pissed them off, and on finding an eight-year-old child locked alone in the flat had taken the television and given Mordred a ten pound note, which he had carefully hidden away.

That had resulted in him being taken into care for the first time. The first time that someone had realised that perhaps they should pay attention to him.

And his mother had never got round to getting the window fixed.

Hopping up onto the nearby table Mordred flipped up the grubby net curtain and flung open the window, diving head first out of it as a swearing, enraged Valiant pursued him. Mordred felt the man's fingers catch the hem of his jeans but the momentum of his fall meant Valiant lost his grip lurching forward so his ribs cracked against the sill. Mordred rolled, trying to used his shoulder and keep the weight off his back, wincing as he squashed part of his backpack, but he came onto his feet gracefully. Turning his eyes widened as Valiant, swearing and hurling abuse started to follow him. Mordred didn't wait he flew across the grass, crashed through the bushes that made up the edge of the little area and launched himself over the iron railings.

As his feet hit the pavement he breathed a slight sigh of relief and he jogged across the road, still hearing, but blocking out, Valiant's abuse.

"Are you all right lad?" Mr Thomas from one of the houses opposite the flats asked. He was out pruning his rose bushes. He was a little old to really be able to do enough to make an impression on the tangled garden but he seemed to like making the effort. That was something Mordred found rather commendable, he had earned some pocket money helping the man, on and off.

"Yeah," Mordred said, risking a glance back. "Could I use your phone?"

Mr Thomas also glanced up, although he hadn't made it out of the window, Valiant had paused to watch the interaction. The old man knew the thug was quite capable of watching Mordred go inside and then come over to cause problems. Mordred realised what the old man was staring at and knew exactly the same thing. He knew the man would help but that would only cause problems for him in the long run, which, Mordred decided, wasn't fair. He could make his own way.

"It's fine, don't worry about it."

Mordred turned to head down the street. If he took the corner then he could take any number of turns, and Valiant would be lucky to catch him.

"Here, lad."

Mr Thomas held out his hand and Mordred saw the two pound coins he held out.

"Find a pay phone."

Mordred smiled, quickly taking the money before one final glance back. He looked up at Mr Thomas.

"Don't worry, I'll call the police if I have to."

Mordred flashed the man a grin before turning and running for it. He could still hear Valiant shouting abuse, and guessed that he had finally found the key and unlocked the front door, but Mordred was long gone. He kept running until his head pounded from the effort and sweat dripped from him. Slowing to a walk he rubbed his side as he felt a stitch starting to develop. He walked quietly down the street, and took a corner, heading towards the row of shops situated on the edge of the little estate. Where a phone box occupied a corner of the street. If it wasn't broken he could call from there.

XxxxxxxxxxxxxX

When he got there he realised the only number he could remember off the top of his head was the house number. There was no guarantee anyone would be in. He scrolled through his memory, but it remained blank on the numbers of Arthur or Merlin's mobiles, or at least the clear order the numbers should run in. He'd have to try the house, and if that didn't work, he could make his way into town and get to the bookshop perhaps. He could probably make his way to the house, but Valiant vaguely knew the address. He was quite capable of turning up there, and he didn't want Arthur, and most especially Merlin, having to deal with an enraged Valiant. It would be even worse if little Elena was there.

Mordred thought carefully. There were some days Elena went to Hunith's, because Merlin worked late at the bookshop. But Merlin's rota could have changed. Huffing Mordred slammed the money into the phone and dialled. He counted the rings, if it went past seven then the answer phone would kick in. Leaving a message might be futile.

It got to seven and he heard the click, Mordred sagged, giving an inward groan, then he jumped a mile as he heard another click. Before Arthur's modulated tone relaying the message could play Mordred heard Merlin's irritated voice.

"Hello?"

Mordred had to take a deep gasping breath before he could talk.

"Merlin!"

"Mordred, you all right?"

He had to take his time to further catch his breath. He eventually managed to stammer.

"I've left home, Valiant's pissed, in both terms of the word."

Mordred continued to gasp and rub his side to try and get the stinging pain of the stitch to subside. For a moment Merlin said nothing. Mordred's eyes widened at the lack of response, and his question, to which he thought he had known the answer to, came out tentatively.

"Can I come and stay with you?"

A refusal hadn't even occurred to him. His knees felt horribly weak, hardly keeping him upright. He dropped his forehead against one of the panels, the sudden cool feeling shocking against his burning skin.

"Where are you?"

"Erm... by the local shops, using the payphone. Valiant might be following, although I think I lost him. He might come looking for me though. I think he knows the address of the house!"

Where Merlin was. Where Merlin, presumably, currently happened to be alone. Mordred felt a surge of panic.

"Can you get to the bookshop?"

Mordred looked at the pound coin in his hand. It was not enough for bus fare, he didn't have anything else on him.

"I'll have to walk."

"I'm setting off now, will you take the main road?"

"Probably."

"I'm going to ring Arthur, then I'll head that way. If I get to the shop first I'll walk out and meet you. If you do tell them... never mind. I'll call and let Will know, he can keep you hidden if you get there first."

"Ok," Mordred said, tears prickling behind his eyes as relief flooded his sensing.

"I'm setting off now, I'll get there as soon as I can."

"Okay, right."

Mordred hung up, pushing open the door of the phone booth, his hand slippery against the smooth material. It took him two attempts to get the door open, his limbs felt weak, and he shook from the exertion. Mordred glanced at the pound coin, it probably wasn't enough to buy a bottle of water, he'd have to wait.

He stuffed the money into his pocket and started to trudge down the road, speeding up slowly. He had to get to Merlin, he had to make sure he had put enough distance between himself and Valiant. The last thing he needed was that man following him, while he headed toward Merlin. Mordred's jaw clenched. He had to get there quickly, he couldn't let Merlin face that. Arthur would probably be tough enough to handle it, but Merlin, far gentler in nature, could not be put through that. Ignoring the heat and aches and pains Mordred kept up the pace.

He did quite well at athletics in school but Mordred found the pace hard going. Occasionally he walked, but he kept going as much as he could, until twenty minutes later he crashed through the door of the shop. Very slowly it swung shut behind him the little bell jangling as it closed again. Two customers looked up and stared at him curiously. Will, on hearing the sound, came out to check, and he hurried across the shop.

"Mordred! Are you all right?"

"I ran most of the way," Mordred puffed and then he looked around in alarm. "Is Merlin here yet?"

"No, you beat him," Will said. "Come on, let's get you sat down. Gwen can get you a drink. Go upstairs."

Mordred turned and staggered towards the stairs that would take him up to the small little balcony area in the shop where Gwen ran the cafe. As he reached the top he slumped into a seat at the nearest table and Gwen came over with a glass of milk. Mordred slid his hand into his pocket.

"I've only got a pound to pay for..."

"Oh, shush now," Gwen said gently running her fingers through his sticky hair. "It's on the house. You look shattered."

Mordred didn't think he had the strength to lift the glass. Instead he pulled it closer to him across the tabletop and used the straw to take a deep gulp of liquid.

"Don't drink too fast, you might make yourself sick," Gwen warned.

Mordred didn't move his mouth from the straw but he drank at a slow steady pace, the cold liquid soothing his throat. His body still ran with sweat and he wiped his face again.

"I'll get you a tea towel, and another drink," Gwen said. She scurried off and Mordred kept his head down, trying to get his breath back. Using one arm he roughly wiped his forehead again. His heart still pounded in his chest in a combination of exertion and adrenaline.

He jerked his head up again as the bell over the door jangled again. His heart surged at the thought that Valiant could have followed him but Mordred sagged in relief as he saw Merlin dashing into the shop wearing a pair of ragged tracksuit bottoms and a stretched tee-shirt with a hole in the left side seam, indicating he had dashed out in a rush. He looked at Will and then as his boss pointed upwards Merlin spotted Mordred.

Merlin took the stairs two at a time. Mordred quivered, feeling an odd rush of emotion as Merlin reached him. It occurred to him that he had never voluntarily and determinedly made an effort to leave his home, he had always been removed from it. Now he had done it himself and Mordred felt quite baffled by the sudden shocking feeling of loss. The tears threatened again and as Merlin reached him, crouching down, Mordred's breath hitched and he threw himself on Merlin, wrapping his arms around him and much to Mordred's embarrassment, and Merlin's surprise, he burst into tears.

XxxxxxxxxxxxxX

It took Merlin ten minutes to calm Mordred down, and the youth wiped his eyes in a hurried fashion.

"Sorry," Mordred stammered.

"It's all right. Thanks Gwen," Merlin added as Gwen finally approached with a second glass of milk and a towel. Mordred wiped his face and took another drink of milk.

"Are you all right? He didn't hurt you or anything did he?"

Mordred shook his head. "No, he tried, but I got away. He might try and follow though, what if..."

It was not a what if. It was a fact as the door jangled again and Valiant stalked through. Mordred's head lifted and his eyes widened. Merlin's jaw clenched as the large man looked around, glaring at everyone and then looking up he locked eyes with Mordred.

"Stay here," Merlin said, or more accurately growled. Mordred froze in panic as he watched Merlin calmly stand up, glaring down at Valiant, who smirked as he watched Merlin ease away from Mordred and he slowly walked down the stairs.

"Merlin, don't..." Mordred hissed.

"It's fine," Merlin answered him, slowly turning on the staircase as he reached the half-landing and he walked down the rest of the flight, pausing three steps up. Valiant looked him up and down.

"And what do you intend to do?"

"Nothing," Merlin said calmly. "But you are going to leave."

"You can't make me, and I'm dragging that little brat home."

Merlin raised his eyebrows and shifted on the stairs as Valiant turned, intending to brush past him.

"But I'm not letting you take Mordred anywhere."

"You think you can stop me?" Valiant demanded squaring his shoulders. Merlin shrugged easing down the last few steps so he stood a metre or so away from Valiant. They were of a similar height so he could easily meet the man's gaze, and Valiant frowned at the cool, unconcerned look in Merlin's eyes.

"Not physically, I suppose, but I don't need to make it easy for you, but you do that and not only will you have Arthur out to get you, you can probably rely on Uther coming after you as well."

"And you think I'm scared of them?" Valiant snarled stepping closer so he was nose to nose with Merlin. Merlin held himself still, noting that although he appeared threatening Valiant didn't appear to want to lay a hand on him, he carefully kept enough distance so he didn't touch Merlin.

Valiant frowned as he noted the lack of reaction in Merlin. Merlin didn't feel the least bit intimidated. A few years ago it might have been the case, but certainly not now. It had taken some time on Merlin's part but despite his dismissals of it, it slowly started to dawn on him that he had been more than a little damaged by his relationship with Cain. The man had bullied him for years, until Arthur had come along.

Over time Merlin had come to realise that Arthur himself hadn't exactly been the most pleasant of people. Until Merlin himself had crashed into his life. The relationship had made them both very aware of their behaviour and Arthur had been determined to keep Merlin. Everyone that Arthur knew had noticed the significant improvement in his behaviour when he had met Merlin.

Having spent over five years in a relationship with Arthur, Merlin knew exactly how to deal with the bulky, slightly drunk man he was now faced with. Merlin didn't attack, he didn't back down, he simply didn't move.

"Whether you are scared or not is beside the point," Merlin announced calmly. "The simple fact is you don't have any authority over the situation, especially not of Mordred."

Valiant scowled, glaring up at the youth who watched the confrontation with wide eyes. He had half risen to go up and help Merlin but Gwen had held him back. She felt a little unsure what to do, so she scrolled through her phone for Arthur's number. Will had his hand on his phone wondering if he should call the police. Once glance from Merlin told him to wait.

"He's only sixteen, he can't leave."

Merlin raised his eyebrows. "Technically he can. You can go to court to force him to return, but I don't imagine any court actually agreeing to that, since as sixteen he is more than old enough to give them his own opinion. And he's not exactly going to end up on the street."

Valiant glared at him.

"I could just go up there and drag him back."

"No you won't," Merlin said his voice remaining icily calm, so much so that Will gawped at him in surprise. Merlin didn't move his gaze from Valiant's waiting for the man's response. He didn't seem to have one. Merlin didn't show any sign of aggression, to which the man could respond to, nor did he back down, which would have drawn Valiant on further.

"Mordred does not want to go anywhere with you, and I have no intention of letting that happen. Now just leave before my boss over there is forced to call the police. And I wouldn't get any ideas about turning up at my home and causing trouble, because I very much doubt that Arthur will take that lying down. And before you think about threatening me," Merlin snarled as Valiant opened his mouth to retort. "Bear in mind that I know more than enough people who are bigger and meaner than you, and not a single one of them with tolerate any harm you feel you ought to inflict on me."

Merlin could think up four people without any effort, Arthur and Uther for starters, Gwaine would probably join in, and Percival, normally incredibly placid, could be roused into anger with enough provocation. Valiant stared at him looking completely dazed.

"This isn't over," he snarled before backing up a few steps and spinning on his heel stalked to the door. Merlin raised his eyebrows as he watched the man crash through the door and stalk away, and murmured, almost to himself.

"On the contrary, I think it is."