Thanks for the reviews those who liked the start of the story. For those that asked, no it's not slash.

Arthur had Sunday off, so he did his usual thing and visited his mother for Sunday lunch. Igraine had called him on the Friday to check he was coming over and Arthur had said yes. The Saturday had been a good one, as he had organised Freya's discharge, her parents happy to be able to take her home. Arthur thought this time is was going to be for good.

As usual they brought a huge tin of chocolates for the staff and Arthur got his own smaller one. When they had done that the first time Arthur didn't have the heart to tell them that he didn't like chocolate. So he had taken the box home and given it to his mother. This time he did the same thing. Igraine had looked at the box as he handed it to her, along with the bouquet of flowers that he always brought, and said.

"Either you've done something terrible or one of your patients has been discharged."

"The second one," Arthur said contentedly.

He felt quite relaxed in his mother's kitchen, while he chopped and mixed the salad, and she prepared the fish. It was a relaxed atmosphere in his mother's home, sunlight streaming through the kitchen windows as they worked together.

"We can sit on the terrace, so you can go out and lay the table once you've done that."

"Yes, Mum," Arthur agreed placidly. Igraine gave him a sideways look before turned back to what she was doing. He knew the next question was coming, his mother had just been working her way up to it.

"So… how's your father?"

"Don't know," Arthur said with a shrug. "I haven't seen him recently."

Igraine turned to look at him properly, tilting her head as she regarded Arthur carefully, the sunlight glinting off her hair. There was no doubt where Arthur had inherited his features from. And quite possibly the stubborn streak where his father was concerned. Igraine raised her eyebrows and Arthur smiled shaking his head.

"I haven't," he protested, truthfully. "He's been busy, I've been busy, I've not even called him for two weeks, not even to leave a message."

"You can be as bad as him when it comes to work."

"Don't say that!"

"You've just turned thirty Arthur, you should be thinking about settling down, not just working all the time."

"I do not work all the time," Arthur told her. "I never miss one of my rostered days off, and even if I am on call I don't often get called in to deal with any emergencies."

"You've done a lot of research papers as well recently. That's work."

"And I fit the time to write them into my work schedule."

"Are you still going to your art class?"

"Every week, and when it comes to the portrait stuff we are doing soon I will get my own back by painting you."

"That's nice, sweetheart," Igraine said, leaning over to kiss him on the cheek. "But you should also really talk to your father more. Now stop playing with that salad and go and lay the table."

"Yes, Mother," Arthur huffed. He walked around the kitchen counter and through the doorway into the dining room, he pulled out a drawer and extracted the table cloth before opening the French doors that led out onto the terrace and spread the material out on the table. He went back for the placemats and cutlery to set them out carefully. A minute later Igraine brought out the wine glasses and a bottle of white wine in an ice bucket.

"I presume you're staying over tonight," she said.

"Yes, my overnight bag is in the car."

She nodded, as she wandered back towards the kitchen she announced over her shoulder. "You really ought to think about getting a new car."

Arthur paused from fiddling with the cutlery and yelled back. "Why? What's wrong with my car?"

He felt a little offended by that. His little blue VW Beetle was not the most inspiring car in the world but he liked it.

"Nothing dear," Igraine said coming back with the salad, putting it in the centre of the table. "But maybe you need to get something a little more grown up."

She wandered off again, saying, "Light the candles dear, we don't want the flies bothering us."

Arthur stood there baffled for a moment before rummaging in one of the sideboard drawers for the matches and he wandered out to light the small t-lights that were set out along the stone wall that ran along the edge of the terrace.

"These things don't work you know," Arthur muttered. "And there's nothing wrong with my car, why do I need a grown up car? And what the hell is a grown up car anyway? Why can't a Beetle be a grown up car…?"

"Don't mutter, dear," Igraine reproved as she wandered out with the salad dressing and a bowl of new potatoes, steaming with heat. Arthur stopped muttering and finishing lighting the candles before pouring the wine and sitting down in his usual seat, enjoying the sunshine. A moment later Igraine came out carrying two plates both with salmon steaks and gracefully taking her seat.

Neither of them talked for a few minutes. The t-light candles didn't entirely affect the flies but put a faint trace of citronella into the air, combining with the drifting scent of the honeysuckle that was climbing up the trellis on the far side of the terrace. A few bumble bees were droning around the flowers. It felt very peaceful.

"You know if you want to know how dad is, you could call him," Arthur said, ruining the tranquillity.

Igraine gave him a disapproving look. "I hardly think so, dear."

"Why not?"

"You are his son, I'm his ex-wife, I think there is a slight difference, and I hardly think that would be the calmest of conversations. What about his 'friend'?"

Arthur raised his eyebrows. "Mum, despite all rumours, I don't actually think he is sleeping with Morgana."

"She is very beautiful."

"So are you," Arthur told her, making her smile.

"And ambitious," Igraine added.

"That does not make a combination that equals her having an affair with dad."

"It wouldn't be an affair, he's not married."

"So, it could be argued that it's not your concern," Arthur said, getting a slightly disapproving glare. "And anyway, I don't think dad's interested, he still loves you."

"Hhuumm," Igraine said, in the usual non-committal fashion when confronted with that fact.

His parents divorce had not been the most amicable of situations, even though it really should have been. He couldn't honestly say he was very scarred by it, since it happened when he was fourteen, and he was kept out of most of it. Arthur got the feeling that his mother had simply waited until he was old enough to cope before telling Uther she wanted a divorce. The unfortunate backfire was Uther suddenly going over-possessive over 'his wife' and 'his son'.

Igraine had simply got bored of him never being home. Uther's career in the police force had kept him away as he continued to get promoted, and more and more involved. Igraine had handled that quite well, but eventually decided enough was enough. Arthur had never built up enough courage to ask her if she had actually brought up the divorce issue just to get his father's attention to try and pull him back from his career and the resulting fall-out and antagonism hadn't been intended. However, the end result of it had been the divorce. Igraine had found the house she was living in now and decorated it to her taste. Uther bought a flat in town, close to work and Arthur didn't find there was much difference in his life. Just a new bedroom and double the presents on Christmas and Birthdays.

"I am going to have to talk to him though," Arthur said. "He instigated a referral to the hospital for someone involved in an investigation."

"Oh?"

"That one that just got some more news coverage, the guy who kidnapped the six youths, I think he ended up with one of those 'Ripper' titles. One of the six survived, just."

"I remember seeing it, they kept the boy out of the reports thought."

Arthur nodded. "I just wonder if dad's doing another trick to try and get me to change my career."

"I hardly think your father would stoop to using someone who had been a victim of such a thing. Even he's not that underhand."

"Gaius said the same thing."

"Gaius is an intelligent man who is probably right," Igraine said. "Your father ought to admit defeat on that one, you are never going to join the police force."

"He thinks I should do more research, he looked disapproving when I told him I'd started that art class, I told him at least it wasn't Art College."

Igraine sniggered and speared some more fish on her fork eating it with delicate grace. She swallowed it before answering him.

"Yes, that really was an interesting situation, I actually thought he was going to explode at some point."

Arthur grinned.

"And you were probably doing it on purpose. I'm fairly certain you only said you wanted to go to Art College it so he'd be more accepting of the medical route."

"I was destined to be a psychiatrist," Arthur said.

"You could have taken up profiling I suppose," Igraine mused.

"No, I couldn't," Arthur said. "I didn't want to. I like my job, I'm good at it."

"If your father is referring people to you, then I presume he thinks you're good at what you do too."

"It would be nice if he told me sometimes. He just hints that there is more money in doing research and stuff like that."

"And money isn't the issue."

"Of course it's not," Arthur said.

"But that's only because you can safely say that," Igraine said helping herself to more salad. Arthur regarded her with mild irritation, his mother, sometimes, was just as good a psychologist as he was, only she hadn't gone through years of training. Except perhaps raising him, and dealing with Uther.

"Are you saying that having two very financially stable parents meant I never gave money a thought when it came to picking a career?" Arthur asked her.

"I'm glad you didn't," Igraine said.

"I do very well, I have my own flat, and car. I know you and dad supported me through university and my training but I was on my own after that."

"Sweetheart, I know, and neither of us resent that. You're in a very stable position now, free to choose whatever you want to do. It's just a shame you haven't settled down, with anyone."

Arthur gave her a narrow-eyed look. Igraine ate some salad and looked innocent.

"Stop that," Arthur ordered her.

"So, this afternoon, shall we go out? There are a few new films on."

"It's too nice a day to sit in a dark cinema. We could take a walk in the park and hire a boat. I can attempt to row us across the lake, and more than likely fail."

Igraine smiled. "Okay, let's clear up first. We can save the gateau for later on."

"Sounds good," Arthur said, finishing off his potatoes.

A while later, as they cleared up, Igraine said.

"So your new patient, do you think you can help him?"

"I don't know," Arthur said, staking plates. "But if I can't it won't be through lack of trying."

"Yes," Igraine drawled. "Trying is very much a Pendragon trait."

Arthur lobbed a limp bit of lettuce at her. "You're a Pendragon too, mum, and that was by choice."

XxxxxxxxxxxxxX

"And I still didn't get an answer as to what car is a grown-up car," Arthur moaned to Merlin the next morning, as he gave him another check up and chatted about his weekend. "What's wrong with Beetles anyway? And I don't know why I'm so bothered. Well, I probably am because she's hinting at a people carrier that I can put all the expected grandchildren she wants into. I have to find someone to have them first, I guess."

Arthur unwrapped the blood pressure gauge from Merlin's arm, getting no reaction as he did so, but glancing up at his patient Arthur couldn't help but feel that he was getting a faint trace of amusement from Merlin. There was no obvious hint, his eyes were still staring off into the middle distance with no visible focus, his head wasn't even angled in Arthur's direction, and his expression certainly held no humour, but Arthur just had a sensation that Merlin was finding it mildly funny.

"Still, I'd better bite the bullet soon and phone my father. I wonder what he's dreamt up to nag me about."

"Who?" Elena's voice demanded.

Arthur turned, she was stood in the doorway, looking very bright eyed and a little bushy haired. It was escaping from the plait she had loosely wrapped it in, and the front sections were frizzy, sticking up in places. Although her uniform looked clean it also appeared as if she hadn't had time to iron it. Arthur grinned at her.

"You know, there is this great new invention called a hairbrush, Elena."

She gave him a mock glare and attempted to tidy her hair while holding a small packet in the same hand. In the end she gave up and held out the packet.

"Gwen got this over the weekend, in response to your request. She put the receipt in the petty cash and filled in one of the slips."

"Thanks," Arthur said, opening the cardboard packet and sliding the small oil bottle out.

"I read it, it does say it can reduce scars, so it might work."

"Worth a try. Is your iron broken?" he asked looking at the creases on her blue top. She pouted and whipped him around the ear with a piece of material that she was holding in her other hand.

"And I got this!" she held up the red material proudly. Arthur frowned as he looked at it.

"This is?"

"It's a neckerchief," she announced, straightening the material out and then folding it in half to make a triangle. She held it up to her neck.

"Merlin could wear it to hide the marks, if he wants to. It was this or buying some roll necks which, and Gwen agrees, is the most awful garment ever."

"I'm going to take your word for that. I can't say I've ever worn one, a neckerchief or a roll neck," Arthur mused.

They both looked at Merlin. There was no response, he just stared at the wall, blinking once.

"I thought the red would match the blue tee-shirt, and I got a blue one to match the red shirt."

"Wouldn't that be contrast rather than match?" Arthur said, getting a second whipping around the ear. She ignored Arthur in favour of Merlin, sitting on the bed and reaching round to put it on. Arthur waited, he had felt the ripple of tension as he had touched the scars on Merlin's wrists, he might feel the same about his neck. Arthur didn't want to overdo it and make Merlin too anxious. Instead he waited to see if there was any reaction, if Merlin didn't like it Arthur wanted to be able to realise it.

Merlin swallowed as the material brushed against his neck and Elena started to tie it.

"Keep it loose," Arthur advised.

"Yeah," Elena said fixing the knot and then fiddling with the material, setting it so it covered the scars, and also sat flatteringly around Merlin's neck. "See, that looks good."

Arthur was surprised. "It actually does, Merlin." Arthur reached up and tugged on the point of the neckerchief, so it was more central on Merlin's chest. Elena fiddled again and leant forward to look at Merlin.

"That's good," she said. "I'll bring in the blue one tomorrow Merlin."

She patted him on the shoulder and then winked at Arthur before getting up and going out. Arthur looked at the oil bottle in his hand and gently rolled up Merlin's sleeves to view the scars again. They were about an inch wide, running around the entire circumference of Merlin's wrists. He had to have been wearing the shackles for a long while, and they had been rusty, rubbing Merlin's skin raw.

"We can give this oil a try," Arthur said, holding Merlin's hand gently as he turned his arm to look at the scarring. He brushed his fingers over the rough skin again, and he felt the mild ripple of tension, but this time he stayed there gently brushing the damaged skin.

He turned Merlin's hand palm down and ran his thumb over the scars again.

"It's all right Merlin, let's see if we can just make it a little better," Arthur said. He released Merlin's hand for a moment to open the oil and then carefully poured a few drops onto Merlin's skin before picking his arm up again and carefully starting to massage the oil in. Arthur could see the muscles in Merlin's forearm tense up again, just a little. He carried on, and the tension appeared to ease, but that could, Arthur thought, Merlin just getting used to his touch.

"How's it going?" Elena asked, wandering back when Arthur was on Merlin's other wrist.

"Okay, we'll keep applying it every day and see what sort of result we get. Just on his wrists though, I think we'll leave his neck alone for now. What is my schedule like for the next few weeks?"

"Mainly busy, but you've got gaps."

"Can you see if Alice can juggle my time so I can get an hour a day with Merlin?"

"Okay," Elena said, then after a pause added. "That's more than usual,"

"I know, but I want to be very sure of what I am saying when his case is reviewed. And can you check up at the hospital for an appointment for another brain scan, just before the four month review?"

"I can," Elena said. "Part of the wanting to be sure?"

"Very," Arthur replied.

XxxxxxxxxxxxxX

A week later Arthur parked up his un-grown-up car in his space. He still hadn't spoken to his father, and he knew he had to at some point, but he knew he'd get grilled about Merlin's condition, and he didn't want to speak to his father about it just yet. He was ambling across the car park carrying some papers, and his lunchbox when he saw the two people on the steps. He had passed them, giving them a vague smile on the way, when their demeanour registered. They looked to be hovering around, waiting to go into the building. His mind moved further on telling him he hadn't seen them before.

They couldn't be outpatients, Arthur didn't think they were expecting anyone new, and they had a look about them that didn't speak of simply being early for an appointment. He stopped on the steps and turned. The woman smiled at him again. She was older than the man, he looked to be mid-twenties, whereas she was in her forties.

"Can I help you?" he asked.

The man glowered at him, not in an unfriendly way, but Arthur was looked up and down with intensity. The woman smiled at him and waved vaguely at the building.

"I think we're a bit early for visiting hours."

Arthur's mind ticked. He could presume from that that they were here to visit one of the residents. Arthur knew all the people that visited the patients, all but one.

"Are you here to visit Merlin?"

The woman brightened at Merlin's name. "I'm Hunith, his mother," she held out her hand. Arthur went into a juggling act, shifting his pile of papers to his left arm, and putting his lunchbox in his left hand. The man looked at it in amusement. Arthur shook Hunith's hand.

"Oh, this is Will, he's a friend of Merlin's, his best friend."

"Hi," Arthur said, shaking Will's hand. Will pulled back as soon as possible, clearly only being polite for Hunith's sake.

"I'm Arthur, Merlin's doctor." Saying doctor, Arthur found, was better than psychiatrist. He waved his free hand in the direction of the door. "It's fine to come in, I can let you into the resident's wing and see if Merlin is up."

"I didn't want to put anyone to any trouble," Hunith said as she followed Arthur, Will tailing along behind them.

"No trouble," Arthur said. "We don't really have enough patients to worry about keeping exact visiting times. Lancelot, can you dump that in my office?"

Lancelot shrugged as Arthur put his files and lunchbox down on the reception desk.

"Sure," Lancelot said, smirking in the direction of the lunchbox.

"This is Hunith and Will, Merlin's mother and friend. This is Lancelot, one of our nurses."

"Hi," said Lancelot. "I think Elena has already got Merlin up."

In other words, she had spotted the two people and guessed the situation, aiming to have Merlin ready for whenever they came in. She really was not just a pretty face, in a moderately messy guise.

"Okay, I'll take them through."

"And you have Freya half an hour early today, she's got some interview thing later in the morning and asked to shift the appointment, but she didn't want to miss it."

"Okay," Arthur said, glancing at his watch. He could get Hunith and Will up to Merlin's room and then leave them to it. Elena would still be about on the wing getting the others up and ready for breakfast, so there was someone to hand if they needed anyone. They followed Arthur up the stairs, and he gave the usual talk as he went.

"We don't open the resident's area usually until after nine, although if you arrive earlier than that someone will let you through, you just need to sign in at reception. There's only a small team, so once most people get to know you they'll just let you though."

"What happens if they have a problem in the night, if they're locked in?" Will demanded.

"A nurse is always on duty on the floor, although it depends on how many residents we have at the time. There is a nurse's station just as you go in, but most of them tend to stay in an empty room. It's rare that anything happens though," Arthur said, which was the truth.

"How is Merlin?" Hunith asked. Arthur pushed the buttons on the keypad and opened the door, setting it so it wasn't locked, with him and Elena up there now, there was no point keeping it locked down.

"It's a little hard to tell, physically he's fine."

"The hospital said he was severely malnourished," Hunith said in concern.

"That's improving. He's still a little underweight but Merlin's eating well, although we are having to hand feed him."

"You make him sound like pigeon," Will sniped. Arthur turned to glance at him. So did Hunith.

"Will," she reproved.

"Sorry," he said, almost sounding it, but somehow not seeming to mean it. Arthur didn't think that aggression was really directed at him, but he'd wait and see.

"Merlin's in the end room, but let me just check he's ready, Elena?"

"Hello," Elena said. She appeared in the doorway of Vivian's room holding two sundresses, one pink and one pale blue.

"Is Merlin dressed?"

"Yep, he's all sorted, what do you think, should Vivian wear the pink or blue."

Arthur blinked and glanced beyond her to the pale, thin girl sat on the bed, wrapped in a dressing gown.

"Pink," Arthur said decisively. Elena beamed and turned to go back to Vivian, announcing to the other girl.

"I always like yellow myself, but they never seem to make yellow dresses, it's annoying." She went off waffling to Vivian who gave low murmured responses in return. Arthur left them to it and took Hunith and Will down to Merlin's room, the door was open and Elena had settled Merlin in the armchair, by one of the windows so he could look at the view. There was no guarantee that Merlin was even aware of the view but it was a nice enough gesture.

"Merlin, you've got visitors, your mum's here, and Will," Arthur said. He went in ahead of them, glanced over Merlin before moving aside to let Hunith in. She went bustling over to her son, taking his hand and leaning down to kiss him on the cheek. Arthur watched, wanting to see if Merlin gave even the merest response to his mother. He blinked slowly as she pulled back from him, but it was the only movement Merlin made. Hunith stood next him, hunched over as she kept holding his hand. Arthur turned, reaching for the chair by the dressing table, by the look of it Will had been thinking the same thing and gave Arthur a filthy look as he took the chair and put it close to Merlin so Hunith could sit next to him.

"Thank you," Hunith said, in a rather distracted tone, her eyes fixed on her son.

Will shuffled further into the room and sat on the end of the bed, his eyes locked on Merlin. Arthur backed up and watched the scene. Merlin gave neither of the visitors any sign that he knew they were there, but again, Arthur got the feeling that Merlin was aware.

"Has he not shown any sign of…" Hunith paused and thought about it. "…waking up?"

Arthur shook his head. "Not so far, but he's only been here just over a week and I think intensive care were more concerned with him physically. The next part is my job."

"What if you can't do anything?" Will asked belligerently.

"It won't be through want of trying," Arthur said, repeating the statement he made to his mother. "I am of the opinion he is aware of what is going on around him, but he's ceased to react to it."

"He still looks too thin," Hunith announced, idly tidying Merlin's hair and stroking his cheek.

"He is reacting to that need; although we need to literally put the food in his mouth he is eating it. I've nagged the hospital kitchens about what food I want sent down for him."

As Arthur explained he turned his head and looked out at the car coming down the driveway, the gravel crunching under the tyres. He recognised the vehicle immediately and the dark-haired girl who hopped out of the backseat.

"That's my early appointment," Arthur said. "I'll leave you for now, Elena is just down the hall, if you need anything then just call for her. I'll let her know."

"Thank you, Arthur," Hunith said, saying his name rather hesitantly. Arthur smiled at her and headed out of the door. He let Elena know, and Lancelot had also headed upstairs to help her out, and deliver breakfasts, which most residents took in their rooms, only using the dining room for lunch and dinner.

Arthur headed out of the wing and down the stairs. It would probably good for Merlin to see some familiar faces, and hopefully they could visit as often as possible. As he went down the stairs, Freya was perched on the reception desk talking to Alice. She was a retired nurse who happily helped them out by manning the desk, and keeping them as organised as possible. Freya looked up and beamed at him as he came down the stairs. She slipped of the desk, Alice caught the papers she had been resting on before they could slide to the floor and Freya bounded over to him waving a piece of paper.

"Look at this," she announced proudly to Arthur.

Arthur eventually managed to retrieve it from her to get a look at it. Freya started to tell him anyway, so he didn't really need the bit of paper.

"I'm going to college to start my 'A' levels in September. I've got my interview today, they rushed it through, since I'd been here for the last month and couldn't do it then. Cool or what."

"Yes, very," Arthur said, scanning the paper and raising his eyebrows. "You're taking psychology?"

"Of course, it will be easy" Freya said, sliding through the door as Arthur held it open for her, walking in the direction of his consultation room. Freya's mother hurried behind them, staying out of the conversation for a moment.

"Let's face it," Freya said bluntly as Arthur gave her a look of knowing surprise. "After shooting in and out of here over the last few years, I'm a bloody expert aren't I?" She wandered into his room and flopped down in her usual chair, while her mother bustled in after her. She paused and smiled at Arthur handing him a small packet.

"We bought this for you," she said before following her daughter. Arthur looked down at the packet of chocolates, and then looked up, smiling.

"Thank you, that's really nice."

And at the same time he wondered if Merlin liked chocolates.