Hey guys!

So, the last chapter was kind of short, I know, and there wasn't a lot to it, but hopefully, this one will be better. Thanks to everybody that reviewed though, I really do appreciate it! :)

Also . . . this story now has over 100 reviews! Thank you so much guys! I really want to make it up to you, so if anyone has any ideas of how I can do that, please, just say so.

I'm also sorry for what you're about to read, not because I think it's bad or anything, it's just . . . it's unlike anything that's happened in the story so far. It's quite angsty, and has a lot of swearing, so, you have been warned! Also, about Mordred . . . he was one of my favourite characters in the show, at least, in Series 5 anyway. I know he wasn't at all like this, but I needed a villain for this fic, and . . . he was just the one that sprung to mind.

Just one thing I have to say before I carry on . . . there won't be any more updates of this story for a week. I'm going away with my family to the Forest of Dean, so I won't be able to update for five days. But, I'm super excited to go, as mostly every episode of Merlin had one scene that was filmed there! Anyway, I'll be writing while I'm there, so hopefully, when I get back, I'll have some stuff to upload!

But, enjoy, and I'll see you in a few days!

Megz

oxox

!TRIGGER WARNING!

DARK AND VIOLENT SCENES

The next day, Merlin walked into Science class, smiling widely. He'd finally managed to get 'A' to open up to him, and to stand up to his father. He just hoped that, wherever he was, or whoever he was, that he was alright. Merlin didn't really know the situation that 'A' was in with his father. For all he knew, he could be violent, and 'A' could be hurt. But since he'd never really mentioned it before, Merlin chose not to think that. If anything, 'A' standing up to his father would only make their relationship better, or worse. Merlin just hoped for the latter.

But not only that, he'd earned Arthur's forgiveness. Merlin hated feeling bad, or knowing that someone was in pain because of him. He didn't like to be the cause of that, knowing what he himself had been through. He'd meant none of the things that he said, and he was glad that Arthur had finally accepted that. Clearly, the things he'd said had struck a nerve, and Merlin really hadn't meant to cause any real damage. Still, that was no excuse. He shouldn't have said the things that he had, and he knew that. And all he wanted now, was for Arthur to know how truly sorry he was. Because, although he'd already accepted his apology, Merlin still doubted he knew how much he really meant it.

Still, he was determined to make it up to him, no matter what it took. The only thing that still confused him, however, was how quickly he'd jumped in to defend Arthur, when he'd started beating himself up about all of it. As far as he was aware, he'd hated Arthur all through the few years that they'd known each other . . . so what changed? He'd of Arthur in that way before. As an actual human being, with feelings. He'd never thought about the person he was inside, instead of the cold exterior he projected to everyone else.

When he'd been saying the words, though, they just felt so . . . right. Because, to be honest, Merlin had probably been thinking that stuff for a while now. He knew deep down, that Arthur really could be a better person, if he tried. He knew that he was truly sorry for all the things he'd done to him in the past, and he knew that he was already trying to be that better person. He hadn't teased or taunted Merlin for at least a week now, and that was good for him. It was that kind of thinking that gave Merlin hope. Hope that it might finally be over. Hope that he could now finally move on with his life.

Walking over to his desk, he swung into his seat next to Arthur, and smiled at the blonde. A few weeks ago, this very gesture probably would have ended with a blow to the face for Merlin, or just a look of disgust, if it was a good day. But now, Arthur beamed back at him. It was weird to think it, but it felt right. Almost . . . natural.

"Hi, Arthur," Merlin said, getting his books out of his bag, ready for the lesson. Arthur did the same, but still watched Merlin out of the corner of his eye. It had only been a few seconds, and already, he couldn't tear his eyes away from the other boy!

"Hi, Merlin," he replied, nodding at him. He hoped that he seemed casual, but even he heard the slight tentative nervousness in his voice. He covered it up with a cough, hoping Merlin hadn't noticed.

"Look, I know I already said this the other night . . ." Merlin began, but Arthur held up his hand to stop him. The stern look in his eye made Merlin close his mouth instantly. And suddenly, Arthur's confidence had returned. He didn't want Merlin apologizing again, it wasn't worth it. He'd already forgiven him, and it hadn't even been Merlin's fault in the first place. Not a single word of what he'd said had been a lie.

"Merlin, stop." Arthur said, his voice just as stern as the look in his eyes. But there was an underlying tone of thankfulness that did not go unnoticed. "You don't have to apologize anymore. It wasn't your fault, and I've already forgiven you, okay?

"Okay," Merlin sighed, looking down at the table for a second. But then, he looked as if he remembered something, and his eyes shot back up to Arthur once more. "But, I want to make it up to you somehow. I . . . I don't know how yet, but I just want you to know how truly sorry I am. Because . . . I don't think I've made it all that clear. I hate seeing people in pain, and knowing that I'm the cause of it is even worse. I know how I feel, or, felt, when things like that used to be said to me every day. I kept hoping that someone would come along, and help me. Or that they'd realize what they were doing to me. That it hurt, and that it was wrong. But deep down, I . . . part of me thought I deserved it. And I know that that's exactly how you're feeling right now.

And no one should ever have to feel that way. Because you didn't deserve that, Arthur. No matter what anybody tells you, you didn't deserve any of the things that I said to you. They were unfair, untrue, and unjustified. I should not have said those things, and I want you to know that it will never happen again. I am truly, sincerely, completely sorry, and if there's any way that I can possibly make it up to you, then let me know."

Arthur just sat there, shocked. People were filing into the room now, all taking their seats, getting ready for the lesson. Still, as the room buzzed with excitement, as people shouted to their friends, or laughed with their classmates, Arthur sat completely still. For a while, Merlin feared he'd gone into some sort of coma. He didn't say anything though, deciding he should probably wait a few more minutes before saying something, just in case.

Then, Arthur turned his head to the side, and shook his head, smiling to himself. It was like he had some sort of private joke that Merlin didn't know about. But he was eager to find out.

"What?" he asked, smiling. There was something about Arthur's smile that was contagious. Whenever Merlin saw it, he couldn't help but smile back. His smirk, however, was an entirely different story, and it irritated Merlin to no end. But his smile was . . . it was real. It was . . . it was something he couldn't fake. And it just made Merlin smile, because it was just . . . Arthur. It was the only time he let his walls down completely.

"I'll never understand you Merlin," Arthur replied, still shaking his head. And now it was Merlin's turn to look confused. "You really are an enigma."

"What do you mean?"

"Just when I think I've got you pegged, when I think I've figured you out . . . you go and change the rules completely. I always thought you were just an idiot. That you simply existed just to get on my nerves. You annoyed me . . . irritated me more than I could even explain. I never knew why, but now I do. Because I didn't understand you. So I beat you, and tormented you, because I didn't know what else to do. I'd never been faced with . . . someone like you before. You didn't make any sense to me. And then you said those things to me, and . . . it was like you understood completely. You said things that, deep down, I'd known, but didn't want to admit. Even to myself.

And you had every reason to hate me. You still do. Yet . . . you came to me . . . to apologize. Of all things . . . . After everything I'd done to you. Everything I said, every ounce of pain that I caused you . . . you had every right to hate me, you really did. And yet you were the one to apologize. After all that. It just . . . it shocked me. And it still does."

"Why?" Merlin rasped, his mouth suddenly very dry. He cleared his throat, and tried again. "Why shouldn't I forgive you?"

"Because I never even said sorry. Because I never once thought about how it might affect you. But . . . in truth, I've never met anyone like you before, Merlin. You're always so . . . selfless. You never take your own feelings into account, and you should, once in a while, you know. You shouldn't let people like me trample all over you. You want to know why you shouldn't forgive me? Because I don't deserve it."

"Arthur, don't say that." he replied, looking directly into the blonde's eyes. "No one deserves my forgiveness more."

Later that day, Merlin sat in the school canteen, with Morgana and Gwen. They were sat, at their usual table, in the back corner. They preferred to stay as far out of sight as possible. To go unnoticed. And it always worked. Merlin laughed, as he watched Morgana drink a glass of water, only to have Gwen flick the bottom slightly, causing the water to go all over the dark-haired Pendragon. She glared at Gwen, but there was no anger behind it. She tried to dap at her chest, to dry out her shirt, but to no success. Still, Gwen seemed to find it highly amusing.

As he continued to laugh, Merlin's eye was drawn to what was referred to as the "round table". This was where Arthur and his "knights" sat. It was all the way in the middle of the room, quite far from their table, but not out of Merlin's eyesight. Sat around the table, were Elyan, Gwaine, Percival, Leon, Mordred, Lancelot, and of course, Arthur. There were others gathered around the table, mostly just girls that were fawning over Arthur. Merlin quickly recognized a handful of them to be Vivian, Sophia, Elena, and Mithian. But Merlin was surprised to find that Arthur was not even giving them a second glance.

Instead, his gaze was focused entirely on Merlin.

What lay behind those warm, blue eyes, this time, Merlin could not be sure. But still, he found himself unable to look away. And when his eyes met with Arthur's, Merlin felt his heart skip several beats. He suddenly felt very fidgety and nervous, and began twirling his neglected spaghetti round his fork, unsure what to do with his hands anymore. He hoped that Morgana and Gwen hadn't noticed his nervousness, but when he tuned back into their conversation, he heard Morgana continuing to complain about her ruined shirt.

He tore his eyes away from Arthur's, reluctantly, and focused back on his friends. Morgana was still trying to dry her shirt, to no success, and before Merlin had even realized what he was saying, he was offering to get her napkins.

"Thanks, Merlin," Morgana nodded, as he stood up to go and get some. He could feel Arthur's eyes watching him from across the canteen, and tried desperately not to look at him.

He made his way to the napkin dispenser slowly, thought it was all the way on the other side of the room. Merlin realized with a sigh that it would mean he'd have to walk past Arthur and his "knights". He kept his head down, and didn't look at any of them as he passed. Still, he heard them all muttering and laughing as he walked. Choosing to ignore it, he got to the napkin dispenser, and took more than was probably necessary. Well, he didn't want to go back.

Once again, Merlin kept his head down as he walked by Arthur's table. The napkins were clutched tightly in his hands, as he clenched his fists, trying not to retort to their mutterings. Still, despite having his eyes trained to the floor, he missed the quick placement of a foot in his path. Before he even knew what his him, he was on the floor, and the napkins were sprawled out all around him.

He didn't even hear the laughter coming from the nearby table, there was just a dull roaring in his ears. He picked up the napkins, clutching them in his fist again as he stood. As he was facing away from the table, he could see Morgana and Gwen looking at him with worried expressions. Obviously, his fall had not gone unnoticed, and everyone else in the canteen was also now looking at him. Morgana shook her head, her eyes pleading with him not to say anything, to just come back to the table, but Merlin just turned on his heel to face the table of laughing boys.

And to his surprise, Arthur was laughing with them.

What didn't surprise him, however, was the realization of who'd tripped him. Sat at the edge of the table, feet still sticking out casually, was Mordred. He was smirking at Merlin confidently, his hands placed behind his head. Merlin looked at the other boys. Some of them, the nicer ones, seemed to be laughing a little nervously, and some obviously hadn't realized that Merlin had tripped. They knew he was naturally clumsy, so they just thought it was all goodhearted fun. It wasn't.

But instead of looking at them, or facing Mordred, Merlin walked over to where Arthur was sat, his eyes filled with a fury that only Arthur could see.

"Are you going to say anything?" he said, between gritted teeth. He heard the laughter die down, and he hadn't meant to say it quite so loudly, but it was too late now. The whole canteen had stopped to watch the exchange.

"About what?" Arthur asked nervously, swallowing hard. But it seemed that no one, not even Merlin, detected the nervousness. Arthur noted bitterly that he really was getting better at this, hiding his true emotions.

"About your pet sheep that just tripped me," Merlin spat, not even turning, nor caring about Mordred's reaction to his description. Under any other circumstance, Arthur would have laughed, because that description fit most of his friends perfectly. But in front of them, he could do nothing except what was expected of him.

"Why should I?" Arthur replied, choosing to look at the ground, instead of at Merlin's hurt expression. He hated to see Merlin hurt, and he'd seen the tears beginning to form in the raven-haired boy's eyes. He didn't want to see Merlin cry.

"You know why," he muttered, and Arthur felt a slight tug at his heart. He heard the break in his voice, and it seemed Mordred had too, as he scoffed.

"What's he talking about, Arthur?" Mordred asked, turning back in to the table, and leaning across to talk to Arthur. The blonde felt his judgmental gaze, and the weight of the tension in the room. All eyes were now turned on him, and he desperately hoped that he didn't look as guilty as he felt, and that Morgana and Merlin could forgive him for what he was about to do.

"I have no idea," Arthur replied, more to the ground than to Mordred. Still, the smirking boy continued.

"Then why don't you tell him that?" Mordred replied, leaning back in his chair, and placing his hands behind his head again.

Whilst everyone on the outside thought that Arthur was the leader of the group, the knights themselves knew that it was really Mordred. It wasn't that he was the tallest, the most powerful, or even the strongest. He just had a lot more bad in his heart than the rest of them. He could be extremely scary and manipulative at times, and the other knights feared him more than they could even express. He was the kind of person that nobody wanted to be on the wrong side of, and that was the main reason why most of them were friends with him in the first place.

And if it wasn't for Mordred, most of them probably wouldn't have even ever considered half the things he'd made them do. Like bullying Merlin. It was certainly something none of them had wanted to do at first, but they'd almost had no choice. Mordred knew people. He had gangs outside of school. Real gangs. The kind that wandered alleyways at night time. The kind that carried knives, or guns. So they did it, because they felt they had to. And most of them felt terrible about it. But Mordred seemed to enjoy it. He enjoyed the pain of others.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Arthur muttered, again, not meeting Merlin's eyes. Still, it was obvious that Merlin had not noticed the blackmail and tyranny taking over Arthur's social circle, as he took in a few deep breaths.

Arthur forced himself to look at Merlin, and felt his heart break. Tears were now streaming down his face, and his hands were shaking. The sounds of his "friends" laughter was drowned out by the sound of Merlin's ragged breathing, and Arthur's racing heartbeat. He opened his mouth to say something, anything to apologize, or something. But then he remembered where he was, and who he was with, and closed his mouth immediately.

"I never knew you were such a dick," Merlin muttered, and the occupants of the table gasped, before starting another chorus of laughter. And Arthur sat, watching helplessly, as Merlin stormed out of the canteen.

Watching Merlin disappear through the crowds of people, Arthur finally came to his senses, and realized what he'd done. When he'd said those things, it's like it'd been almost automatically. He hadn't even realized what he'd been saying. That was, until he saw Merlin's tears. After everything they'd been through in the past few days, everything they'd shared, Arthur had gone and screwed it all up in the space of five minutes. Merlin had been in pain, he'd needed some help, someone to stick up for him, and Arthur had just sat there.

Merlin had needed someone to save him, someone to step in, to be the hero, and to save the day. And he'd expected Arthur to be that person. What he didn't know, though, was how much Arthur wanted to be that person. He wanted to be that person to rescue Merlin. He wanted to be the hero, the knight in shining armour . . . whatever. He just wanted to be whatever Merlin needed him to be. And he hadn't been.

When Merlin had needed him to be there for him, had needed his help, even asked for it, Arthur had let him down. He hadn't been able to live up to his expectations. Because he wasn't a hero. He wasn't one of the good guys, not really, no matter how hard he tried. He would always be tainted by darkness. He would always do the wrong thing. He wasn't Merlin's knight in shining armour, he wasn't his saviour. He wasn't the person whose arms Merlin could cry in, couldn't be his sanctuary to run to.

But he wanted to be.

Arthur stood up from his chair, and thanked the Lord that the rest of the canteen had gone back to their earlier activities. The show was over for them, but Arthur had yet to understand his part. Whether he was to be the dashing hero, or the hated villain. It was up to him now, and Arthur knew what he had to do. He glanced around the table at the people he'd once called friends, but the events of the past few minutes had caused him to doubt that title now. In some of their eyes, he saw understanding. In others, he just saw blank confusion, and arrogance.

"I . . . I have to go . . . " he mumbled, and some of them understood, and nodded. Others, like Mordred, for example, seemed to get the entirely wrong idea. Obviously, instead of him going to comfort Merlin, they thought he was going to beat him up. Or "finish him off", was probably the way that they would have put it.

"Give him a good blow from me!" Mordred shouted behind him, as Arthur turned to walk away, and he grinned, at the sound of someone's hand colliding with Mordred's head.

"What the fuck, Mordred?" he heard Percival say, and Arthur guessed that he was probably the one that'd hit Mordred. It wasn't often that one of them stood up to Mordred, but Percival was usually the one to do so, when Mordred had gone too far. And Arthur made a note to tell him later that it was not unappreciated. "You've had your fun, now shut up."

When he was sure he could no longer be seen, Arthur broke into a slight jog, desperate to catch up with Merlin. He made it out of the canteen, and down the hallway, before breaking into a full-on run. He ran as fast as his legs could carry them, and even when it felt like they were about to give way, he carried on. He had to find Merlin.

Still, the hallways seemed too quiet, and Merlin was nowhere to be found. But that didn't stop Arthur. He looked around every corner, and in every door. And as he ran, he felt like every footstep was imprinting Merlin's words further and further into his mind. He'd just managed to make Merlin forgive him for everything that he'd done in the past, and he knew it had been hard for him to accept his apology. And then, he'd just gone back to doing exactly what he'd had to apologize for in the first place. Arthur just hoped Merlin was one for giving second chances.

Because, even though he knew he didn't deserve Merlin's forgiveness . . . he almost felt like he needed it. Having Merlin in his life, it just felt . . . right somehow. Even if Merlin still had no idea of the true extent of their friendship, Arthur had hoped to have the same relationship with Merlin in real life, that he had as 'A'. Now, all his hopes of that were gone, unless he could find Merlin and apologize. But he'd have to make some pretty serious promises.

He knew he couldn't carry on doing what he'd just done, and be friends with Merlin at the same time. He'd have to ditch Mordred, and tell all of his other friends to leave Merlin alone. But that was something he was more than willing to do, if it meant he could be closer to Merlin. Because that was all he'd wanted from the beginning, was to be closer to Merlin, to get to know him better, to understand him. Still, Arthur was no closer to understanding Merlin than he was to finding him.

As he came round another corner, and realizing he was right back where he started, outside the canteen, he realized that he wasn't going to find him. He sighed in frustration, and kicked over one of the Healthy Eating signs to his right, muttering to himself. His hands flew up to his hair, and he shook his head.

"Shit."

After school, Merlin clutched some more books to his chest, as he walked towards the school gates. He'd been avoiding Morgana and Gwen since Lunch, and just hoped that he could get out of school before they saw him. He didn't want any of their questions. He knew that they meant well, but sometimes, when he was hurting, he just needed to be by himself. And this was one of those times. He didn't want to have to explain the whole thing with Arthur, when he couldn't even explain it himself. It wasn't as if he hadn't been expecting it. He'd always known how extremely unlikely it was that they could ever be friends.

Still, it hurt that Arthur didn't stand up for him, especially after everything he'd said that morning. But he couldn't explain exactly why it hurt him. He didn't care about Arthur, he was just a heartless bully, who obviously didn't care about Merlin either. No, he didn't care about Arthur . . . did he?

Merlin's thoughts were interrupted, by a hand pulling him by the shirt, into an empty classroom. The gesture was rough, and Merlin knew what he was in for, before he even had time to turn and identify his attacker. And when he did, he wasn't at all surprised to find that it was Mordred.

Pain shot up his spine, as Mordred threw him against the wall, keeping his hands fisted in Merlin's shirt. Merlin was several feet taller than Mordred, but a lot skinnier. He knew that Mordred could take him apart with one blow. There was no point in fighting back, or resisting. So he didn't. He could see the anger in Mordred's eyes, though he'd never be able to understand where it came from. He could feel the other boy's breath on his face, he was that close. Their noses were almost touching, and the close proximity sent chilling shivers down Merlin's spine.

Mordred was like a ticking time bomb; obviously dangerous and deadly, except you never knew when he was going to go off.

"I know what that was about, you know," Mordred spat, and Merlin tried to shrink as far back into the wall as he could. "In the canteen, I know what's going on with you and Arthur."

"You . . . . you do?" Merlin mumbled, confused. How could he possibly know that?

"You like him," Mordred replied, sneering at the taller boy. "I can see it, the way you look at him. How you're always watching him, and smiling at him. You're obsessed, Merlin, it's not healthy. You're obsessed with someone who couldn't care less about you, don't you see how sick that is? He's not interested! I hate to break it to you Merlin, but he likes girls. And even if he didn't, he'd probably just use you for a one night-stand, if he thinks you're even worth that. Personally, I don't think you are. He'd never be interested in someone like you. You . . . are nothing."

Merlin closed his eyes. He could feel Mordred's breath on his cheek and his slow, calm heartbeat against his chest. He just hoped that the other boy couldn't sense how scared he was. Because once Mordred knew you were scared, he played on it, and found a way to make it even worse. He loved to be feared, to feel like he was superior. And Merlin didn't want to give him that satisfaction. Still, he knew what Mordred was capable of. He'd seen it before, and it was definitely something to be scared of.

"Stop wasting your time Merlin, I'm only trying help you out here." he continued, and Merlin tried desperately to slow his breathing, but to no success. But it seemed that Mordred wasn't feeling in the mood for violence today. Otherwise, he would have hit Merlin already. It seemed he just wanted to get inside his head instead, and it was working. "And I'm only telling you what you already know to be true. Why would someone like Arthur, popular, smart, rich, powerful, he could have anything, and anyone he wanted . . . be interested in someone like you? He doesn't even notice your existence unless he needs someone to take his anger out on, much like the rest of us, really.

Because you make it too easy. You don't even try to fight back anymore, it used to be so much more fun. Not that I'm done trying, because don't you worry, Emrys, I've gotten so much better at this, you have no idea what I've got planned for you."

And with that, Mordred let go of Merlin, and he took a step back. Merlin attempted to move away from the wall, only to have Mordred slam him back into it again. He held his arm against Merlin's throat, and used his other hand to point at him.

"Mention this to anyone, and you'll pay a handsome price," he said through gritted teeth, and used his finger to stroke along Merlin's jaw. Merlin shuddered, as he remembered the scars that Mordred had once covered it with. "But I'm sure you remembered that from the last time?"

Merlin nodded, and swallowed hard. Mordred stepped back again, holding up his hands in a mock surrender. Merlin kept his back against the wall this time, too scared to move. Mordred pointed at him again, this time slightly less threatening, as a smirk covered his face.

"I'll be seeing you," he said, laughing loudly, before stepping out of the room, leaving Merlin to himself.

Breathing raggedly, Merlin let himself slide down the wall, and brought his knees up to his chest. His hands flew up to his hair, unknowingly perfectly mirroring the action that Arthur had done earlier. Tears slid down his cheeks once more, but less rapidly this time. He felt cold, and violated. He felt like he wanted to tear his hair out, or scratch at his skin until it was raw. He wanted to run to the rooftop, and scream at the world far below. He wanted to punch something until his knuckles bled. He wanted to . . . he just wanted it all to stop. The pain, he just wanted it to stop. But deep down, he knew . . . .

It was only just beginning.

Well? I'm sorry, I really am, but . . . let me know what you thought? Review!