A/N: Hello everyone! Thank you once again to everyone that has read, reviewed, followed or favourited this story. I apologise that this chapter has taken a little longer to get up than usual. Work has been hectic and I've been doing quite a lot of over time. I hope everyone enjoys chapter eight. Please remember to review (if you want to!)

Chapter 8.

'How was he?'

To Martin's surprise, Brenda was waiting for him to return. She was sat in a seldom used armchair which was angled to have a view of the street in front of the house. In her lap was a cross-stitch. Martin smiled to himself as he noticed she had barely added any new stitches. He said nothing to give away that he knew that Brenda was only pretending to look busy.

'Same as yesterday,' Martin explained. 'Seems perfectly healthy. Just a little lost,'

He approached Brenda and enveloped her in his arms.

'It's such a shame,' Brenda said, not for the first time. Her fingers enclosed around Martin's giving them a tight squeeze.

'A friend of his showed up today,' Martin told his wife.

She smiled warmly. 'That's good news,'

'You'll never guess his name,' Martin smiled despite the memory of the young man's steely glare.

'Hmmm?'

'His name is Merlin,' Martin exclaimed. He was happy to know that Arthur was perhaps not as crazy as everyone originally thought. Though there was something about the way Merlin had stormed in that troubled Martin somewhat. As strange as things were now, he had a feeling he had only experienced the tip of the iceberg.

Merlin had returned home. Once more he was without Arthur but at least they had been finally reunited, even if they'd only had a couple of minutes together. Arthur knew who Merlin was and he was stubborn enough not to let the doctors convince him that he was crazy. The thing that worried Merlin the most was the prospect of having to explain to Arthur exactly what was going on. Merlin considered how exactly he was going to break the news to Arthur that he had, in fact, been dead for well over a thousand years. That during that time Merlin had never stopped waiting for him.

His hands shook as he took off his tan coloured jacket and hung it up. What would Arthur make of where Merlin lived now? How would he react to having to stay here? It was definitely nowhere near as grand as anything Arthur was used to.

Merlin lived in a single room. It was a kitchen, living room and bedroom all in one. There was a small bathroom off to one side but that was it. He cast an eye about, thinking how he really ought to tidy up if he was to bring Arthur here. Things were strewn across the floor; half read books, piles of laundry and dirty plates amongst other things. A dull feeling settled in Merlin's stomach and he realised that it was shame. He was ashamed of the state of his living area. There was no way Arthur would be willing to stay somewhere like this.

In the past Merlin had always made an effort to keep the bedsit fairly tidy. Obviously lived in, but never dirty. However, recently the empty feeling had grown so intense he hadn't been able to bring himself to do anything. He'd not even been able to flick his wrist and make the dishes clean themselves.

The mattress creaked as Merlin sat on the edge of the bed, contemplating where to start. His eyes fell on the empty bottle that he had thrown the previous night. This past day had so many emotional ups and downs; Merlin was unsure how he felt. He could not deny that he no longer felt as numb and the emptiness that plagued him seemed to be slowly shrinking away. Though he could not say he was happy yet. There were so many uncertainties surrounding Arthur that Merlin had transformed into a bag of nerves. He didn't know whether he preferred this or the cold, never ending numbness before. At least that didn't hurt.

Merlin found himself wishing that the bottle was not empty. He wanted just enough for a quick swallow to calm his nerves. Perhaps it would help steady this insistent shaking. He stood and picked up the bottle, putting it on the counter. There were several others scattered around. Merlin picked them up and lined them up on the counter. All were empty. Something about the sight of several empty glass bottles made Merlin's stomach flip. His breath hitched in his chest as the anxiety took over. He couldn't do this.

Suddenly desperate, Merlin flung himself at the fridge, wrenching the door open. His fingernails dug into the palms of his hand as he realised that there was nothing there. He yanked open each cupboard, tears swimming in his eyes as time and time again he came up empty. Of course he knew he would find nothing. It was only two nights prior that Merlin had poured all the foul stuff away in a fit of rage. He couldn't do that to himself anymore. He knew that. Especially now that Arthur was depending on him. He backed himself up against the wall as sobs threatened to spill over. What was he thinking?

His t-shirt rode up as Merlin slid down the wall. It was oddly cold on his bare skin but Merlin relished the feeling. The cold burn on his back brought Merlin to his senses, if only momentarily. He needed to pull himself together. He couldn't do this anymore. He had already decided that, even before he had known Arthur had returned. He leaned his head against the wall, resisting the urge to bang it and finally the tears spilled over.

Why he was crying, Merlin wasn't quite sure. Perhaps it was the fact that he had nearly lost control once more. Or that he still was not properly reunited with Arthur. The fact that he felt he'd let Arthur down yet again. His body heaved with great, wracking sobs. He grabbed at his knees, pulling them up to his chest. Sniffing and sobbing, Merlin wiped frantically at his face. His sleeve came away soiled with an unpleasant mixture of tears and snot. All the pent up emotions from the past centuries were finally spilling out.

He didn't know how long he had spent curled up on the floor. After what seemed like a lifetime, Merlin's breathing began to even out and the tears became less frequent. He sat up again slowly, feeling guilty for his outburst, but also slightly better now he'd managed to get it all out. He was just glad it had happened now and not when he had returned home with Arthur. He gave himself a few more minutes before standing shakily. He flipped the kettle on and busied himself making a strong black coffee. He could do with something to perk him up a little before he set about making the place somewhat presentable. It would never be fit for a King, but at least he could try to tidy up a little.

A couple of hours later Merlin had made the room as presentable as it was going to get. There were no longer any empty bottles in sight. All the plates had been washed, dried and stacked in the correct cupboards. The laundry had been folded and sorted into piles. Arthur probably still wouldn't be thrilled but at least it was liveable now. Something about having a clean living space made Merlin smile, however briefly. It was almost as if clearing the clutter in the bedsit had cleared away the clutter in his mind. In the back of his mind, dark thoughts still lingered but now they were somehow quieter than before. He knew Arthur's reactions to everything that had happened were not all going to be positive. The thought made him queasy but at least now Arthur was going to be less likely to berate him about his living conditions. It was one small worry off of Merlin's mind.

Not wanting to let his mind wonder too far, Merlin busied himself in his next task. If Arthur was going to blend in he would need some clothes to change in to. Neither a hospital gown nor chain mail were best suited to wondering about in modern day Britain. He was, after all, trying to convince people that Arthur was not clinically insane. Merlin routed through his drawers, knowing full well that most of his clothes would be a little snug on Arthur. In the end, he settled on a pair of black tracksuit bottoms, a plain t-shirt and a hooded top. Clothes that had always been a little baggy on Merlin and that had a little bit of extra give. He shoved them into a rucksack. As an afterthought, he also grabbed a pair of trainers, just in case.

After double checking that he had got everything, Merlin set the rucksack down by the door. He was eager to set off already. He wanted to put his plan into action but the sun had not yet set. It hung lazily in the sky, just above the horizon. It was taunting him. There was a pinkish-orange tint to the sky but it was not darkening fast enough for Merlin's liking. He did not know what to do. His hands were shaking again. The more he dwelled on what was to come, the more his stomach danced. He closed his eyes and inhaled slowly. He needed to stay calm.