Hey guys!

So, once again, I realize the last chapter was quite heavy. But, as you've probably guessed, Arthur's about to find out, and you know he'll have something to say about it! Hopefully, this chapter won't be as bad, and it will get better for Merlin, I promise. I just wanted to make it clear about his past, and the stuff that he gets put through. I was going to make it homophobic bullying, but I couldn't bear to write it.

I tried to write this chapter a couple of times, and changed it quite a lot. I'm still not that happy with the second half of it, but I hope you guys like it anyway.

Guest - "Why didn't Merlin talk to 'A' while he was depressed?"

I think just because Merlin likes to keep his troubles to himself, he doesn't like to bother other people with them. He could've talked to quite a few people, to Gwaine, Morgana, Gwen, Gaius, or 'A', but he didn't. I think Merlin from the show was a bit like that as well, he kept a lot of things to himself.

One more thing, this story will definitely be 20 chapters. I have it all planned out now, and I'm probably not going to make any changes now. So, nine chapters left, everyone!

Anyway, I won't keep you any longer!

Enjoy!

Megz

oxox

A bit of language in this chapter, so I have to warn you, just in case.

!TRIGGER WARNING!

DARK AND VIOLENT SCENES

For a while, Arthur thought that nothing was going to happen. He thought he'd missed his opportunity, and that Merlin's attacker was never going to reveal himself, at least not tonight. He didn't know whether to be relieved, or disappointed. But then, by some stroke of luck, or, misfortune, in Merlin's case, Arthur saw him turn into an alleyway, as he suddenly spotted someone. Arthur knew that this wasn't Merlin's route home, so he followed him. How he knew that, he wasn't sure, but he didn't really want to think about that right now. He hung a bit behind Merlin, and saw him walk over to a figure with his back to both of them, and stopped in his tracks, hiding behind a bush. He wasn't going to reveal himself just yet.

When the person turned, Arthur couldn't say he was surprised to see that it was Mordred. Mordred was always so much harder on Merlin than the rest of them, and Arthur was almost disappointed in himself for not thinking of that sooner. It made perfect sense, and he almost felt as if he'd let Merlin down somehow, especially after what'd happened in the canteen. But Arthur knew, for certain, that after today, Mordred wouldn't be bothering Merlin anymore. Ever. He'd make sure of that.

He watched, as Merlin took a few steps back, Mordred pushing him against the fence. Arthur felt his hands clenching into fists, but still, he held himself back, listening to every word the bastard was saying. He knew, when the timing was right, he'd step out, and confront Mordred, but he wanted to know exactly what he'd been doing or saying to Merlin. He'd never seen the sarcastic village boy so . . . broken, and he wanted to make Mordred pay for what he'd done to him.

"You didn't tell anyone, did you?" Mordred asked, and Merlin shook his head quickly, trembling with fear. Arthur may have been stood a distance away, but even he could see Merlin shaking. "Good, because if you did . . . . well, I don't have to tell you do I? You already know. If you tell anyone, I'll just find new ways to get to you. Much more . . . inventive ways. And believe you me, what happened this morning, was just the tip of the iceberg. So if you step even a toe out of line, well . . . . am I making myself clear?"

"Y-yes . . ." Merlin managed to get out, and Arthur could swear he felt his heart break at the tone of Merlin's voice. He sounded so helpless, so choked, so . . . lost, and alone. It only increased Arthur's anger, not only at Mordred, but at himself. For almost a week now, Merlin had been put through terrible suffering, and Arthur had done nothing about it. He knew it was stupid to blame himself, as he hadn't known, but he could have tried harder. "No one can know, and . . . no one will, I . . . I swear."

"And no one saw the cuts? You made excuses for the bruising on your face, I'm sure . . ." Mordred asked, and trailed off, when he felt Merlin squirm. He could tell, by the way that he was reacting to his words, that someone had found out. Or, at least noticed. Merlin was no longer willing to look him in the eye, and Mordred began to clench his fist that wasn't now in Merlin's shirt. "There's something you're not telling me, Emrys, what is it?"

"I . . . I didn't mean . . . . I tried, to hide it, I swear, I did . . ." Merlin began, and Arthur knew exactly what he was talking about. He'd noticed, him, Arthur. And now Merlin was going to get beaten up for it. He didn't like to think that it was his fault, but, in a way, it was, even if not intentionally. "It . . . it was Arthur. He asked about my face, but . . . I told him . . . . I told him that I fell, but . . . he . . . he didn't believe me. But then, he . . . he saw my neck, when I was adjusting my tie, and . . . well, there was nothing I could say about it . . . I . . . I told him it was nothing, but . . . I don't think he's going to let it go."

"You really are pathetic, Merlin!" Mordred laughed bitterly, pushing himself away from Merlin, and pacing. Now Merlin looked scared. There was a manic look on Mordred's face that struck fear into even Arthur's heart. "You . . . you honestly think that he cares? What, do you think he's not going to sleep, until he finds out what's been done to you? He's probably laughing about it right now. I bet he's glad I've done this, saved him the job, as it were."

"You're wrong, he's . . . he's not like that," Merlin muttered, not really sure where the words had come from, but instantly regretting them.

"Merlin, we've already been over this!" he continued, throwing his hands up in the air. "He doesn't care. Especially not about you . . . . and he never will. Do we have to go through that lesson again? Because, honestly, I'm ready to move on. I only hope that our time together won't be cut short, not like . . . last time. I'm sure you remember how that ended? Last year?"

"I . . . I tried to kill myself," Merlin replied, as if in a sort of daze, and Arthur was taken aback. He'd never known about any of this, least of all that Mordred had done this to Merlin before.

When Arthur thought about it though, he distinctly remembered Merlin being in hospital for some weeks last year. He'd worried, of course he had, but Morgana had told him it was nothing serious. Deep down though, he'd known that it was. He'd heard Morgana crying in her room the night Merlin was taken in to hospital, and had known something was wrong. Still, he'd let himself be lied to. Because, at the time, Merlin hadn't meant much to him. He was his sister's friend, and someone he occasionally picked on, nothing more. And when he saw Merlin at the house a few weeks later, hugging Morgana and Gwen, he couldn't help but feel the slightest bit of relief that he was okay. He'd had no idea how bad it had been.

"Yes, you did," Mordred replied, stopping his pacing, and standing directly in front of Merlin. He was so close, that their shoes were touching, and Arthur clenched his fists again. If Mordred took even one step closer . . . "Well maybe next time, you should try harder."

That was it for Arthur, and he could no longer control his anger. Before he even knew what he was doing, he was right in front of Mordred, and hit him as hard as he could, sending the smaller boy crashing to the floor. Once Mordred was a crumpled heap on the floor, Arthur took a few seconds to look over to Merlin, and the expression on his face hit him like a ton of bricks. There were tears in his eyes, but Arthur was surprised to see slight appreciation and thankfulness that he'd been saved.

Before he could stop himself, Arthur took a step towards Merlin, and placed a hand on his cheek. He carefully traced along the cut on his cheek with his thumb, and wiped the tears from his eyes. He never wanted to see Merlin cry again, it was too heart-breaking. Still, it seemed the reason for Merlin's tears wasn't quite finished yet, and Arthur groaned, as Mordred dealt a sickening blow to his stomach. He whirled around and . . .

What happened after that, Arthur wasn't entirely sure. He remembered hitting Mordred a few times, and Mordred fighting back, but after that, he kind of blacked out. The next thing he knew, Mordred was on the floor again, with what appeared to be a broken arm, and Arthur was stood over him. Looking down, Arthur realized he had bruised knuckles, so he must have punched Mordred pretty hard. Still, Mordred must have put up a good fight, because Arthur's knees were beginning to feel weak. But he held his ground, at least while he was still within Mordred's eyesight.

"If you ever touch him again," Arthur spat, leaning over Mordred. "You don't even want to know what I'll do to you. My father will deal with you from now on, because I don't even think I can bear to look at you anymore. What you have done to Merlin is disgusting, and you will pay. My father will expel you, and the police will deal with you from then on. Don't come near me, or Merlin again, because next time, you might not be so lucky."

Mordred scoffed, but he looked slightly less threatening when he was unable to get up. Arthur gestured for Merlin to follow him out of the alleyway, and Merlin was more than happy to oblige. Leaving Mordred behind, they made it out of the alleyway, before Arthur's legs gave way. He would have fallen straight to the floor, had it not been for Merlin. Somehow, he'd anticipated Arthur falling, and grabbed the blonde by the waist, holding him up.

"Thanks," Arthur whispered, smiling up at Merlin, as he led him to a bench across the street.

Arthur sat down with a sigh, the pain of his injuries finally kicking in. He'd completely underestimated Mordred's strength, as he'd never really seen him been so . . . violent before, or so twisted. He knew about Mordred's past, and about the gangs he was part of outside school. When he'd first met Mordred, Arthur had just though he'd fallen in with the wrong crowd. He'd thought his behaviour could be corrected, that he could change. Arthur always tried to look for the best in people. But it seemed, when it came to Mordred, he'd been wrong.

It had started to become evident, over the last year, that he'd been wrong. But, by then of course, it had been too late. Mordred had already taken control of the group, and had them doing his bidding, with most of them not even realizing they were doing it. Mordred had ways of manipulating people, ways of getting inside your head, that even Arthur couldn't understand. It had been his idea to bully Merlin in the first place. Because he was weak, because he was alone. That just showed how little of a man he was, that he had to pick on the weak, and innocent. Rather than, for lack of a better phrase, pick on someone his own size.

It was clear to Arthur now of course, who Mordred really was. He was dark, and twisted. He was a dictator, and a bully, and Arthur couldn't believe how long it had taken him to realize it. He'd treated Mordred as a friend. As someone he could trust. And yet, all this time, he'd been terrorizing Merlin, to the point where he'd tried to kill himself. Mordred was sick. He was a sick, twisted human being, who was going to pay for what he'd done. Arthur had no doubt that once the Police got involved, they'd find plenty more stuff on Mordred, stuff that could get him locked up for years.

That alone, should have given Arthur some kind of satisfaction. But it didn't. He felt ill, and his stomach was churning. The realization of who Mordred really was, still made him feel sick. Because he was demented. He'd have to be, to do something like that to someone like Merlin. He was one of the kindest, humblest, funniest people Arthur had ever met, and he simply couldn't understand why anybody would want to say a bad word against him. You did, once, Arthur thought to himself, but he shook the thought away. Things were different now. He was different.

"You can go home, if you want," Merlin said, not even turning to look at Arthur. He just looked across the road, at nothing in particular. He felt nothing. He didn't feel the sting of his cuts, or the hope he should feel, for Mordred finally being caught. He felt nothing. He felt numb. "I'll be fine."

"Merlin, you're not fine," Arthur replied sternly, and Merlin turned to look at him. Then his wall crumbled. He didn't want Arthur to go anywhere. He didn't know what he'd do, if he was left by himself. He didn't know what he would have done, if Arthur hadn't shown up in the first place. Arthur could tell that Merlin didn't want him to go. Which was good, because he didn't particularly want to.

"Arthur, you don't have to stay," he continued, but his voice was shaky. Even he could tell he didn't mean it. Something about the concern in Arthur's eyes, though, made him want to break. And he was so close to breaking. For weeks, he'd been holding it all in, not wanting to give Mordred the satisfaction. But there was just something about Arthur that meant Merlin couldn't lie to him. He couldn't pretend he was okay, when he wasn't. "I . . . I really appreciate what you did for me, I do, but . . . I know it didn't mean anything. You said so yourself, the . . . the things I let him to do me, were disgusting . . . I'm disgusting."

"Don't say that," Arthur replied, his voice turning incredibly soft. Merlin touched his cuts absentmindedly and winced. They'd still hurt, of course they would, it'd only happened yesterday. Still, scars and all, Arthur didn't think he'd ever seen anyone more beautiful. A few weeks ago, he would've mentally slapped himself for even thinking that. But it was true. Merlin was the most beautiful human being Arthur had ever met, inside, and out. He couldn't exactly tell him that though. "Don't even think that, Merlin."

"It's true though, I'm not . . ." Merlin trailed off, not knowing how exactly to put it. He knew he was clutching at straws now. He wanted nothing more than to tell Arthur the truth, and to just let himself be held. But he wanted to give Arthur the opportunity to walk away, to make sure he knew what he was getting into. Still, that didn't make the words he was saying any less true. At least . . . not in Merlin's opinion. "I'm not like you, I'm not important, I'm . . . I'm beneath you. Even Mordred knows it. I just can't see why you're wasting your time on me."

"Merlin, you know none of that's true. You said it yourself, I'm not like that." Arthur sighed, seeing that he clearly wasn't getting through to Merlin. It hurt, to see how little confidence Merlin had, compared to a few weeks ago, when he'd been fine. It just made him want to hurt Mordred even more. "You are important . . . more important than you'll probably ever know. You're essential. After all, I need someone around to deflate my massive ego, don't I?"

That brought a smile to Merlin's lips, and Arthur couldn't help but smile back. There was just something about Merlin's smile, that was oddly contagious, even when it was swamped behind waves of sorrow and pain. Arthur just hoped that, over time, he'd be able to help Merlin heal his scars. Not just his physical ones, but his emotional ones, too. He couldn't even begin to imagine what the things Mordred had said had done to Merlin. All he knew was that, no matter how long it took, he'd stay with Merlin through all of it, until he was himself again. It would all be worth it in the end, if he got to see that smile again.

"See, that's what I want," Arthur said, pointing to Merlin, and the other boy blushed slightly, looking down at the floor. The intensity of Arthur's gaze was blinding him. He said the strangest things sometimes, and Merlin often found himself wondering about his intentions . . . "I want to see more of that smile, okay? I'm so sorry you had to be put through all of that, and that it took me this long to notice. But I promise you, nothing like this will ever happen again, alright? And scars will fade, all that matters, is that you're okay."

"What if I'm not?" Merlin replied, his voice breaking, and tears forming in his eyes. Arthur's resolve weakened, and he found himself reaching out to Merlin. And just like that, he broke.

"Merlin," Arthur sighed, gathering the scrawny boy in his arms, and stroking his hair as he sobbed into his shirt.

Well? Let me know what you thought! REVIEW! :D