A/N: Hello everybody. Yet again, I want to thank anyone that has reviewed, added to favourites or followed this story. It really means a lot. I apologise that it has taken me longer than usual to type this chapter. Work has been hectic and I have been incredibly tried. I hope that means this chapter isn't too terrible. Anyway, I'll stop rambling again. Hope you enjoy!

Chapter 11.

Merlin needed a drink. The sleeping form of Arthur in the corner brought so many conflicting emotions; sprawled across Merlin's bed resembling some weird starfish/ octopus hybrid. First of all Merlin was annoyed that Arthur had stolen his bed without so much as a second thought for his saviour. Though Merlin had to admit that he ought to have expected that type of behaviour from Arthur Pendragon.

Secondly, Merlin was elated that he had finally been reunited with his King. Surely this meant that his life had purpose once more and that he was rid of the empty hollowness that had consumed Merlin for almost as long as he could remember.

The third emotion however, cancelled out the positivity leaving a strange dead weight in the pit of Merlin's stomach. It was more a group of emotions balled into one; anger, frustration and sadness that Arthur was not willing to accept the truth. That Arthur-the prat he was-never accepted what Merlin had to say. Some part of Merlin's brain wondered why he bothered.

In conclusion, Merlin's body was screaming for the only way that it knew how to cope. That bitter liquid that burned his throat and fogged his mind and somehow, if only temporarily, filled the void that was Merlin's existence.

Over the years, Merlin had discovered that the occasional drink or two had helped to dull the pain. It somehow filled the hole that was in his chest. Merlin had indulged himself every now and then when he couldn't cope. Eventually, one or two drinks every so often had turned into one or two drinks every night. His tolerance level began to build up and it took more and more to fill the gap. Before Merlin knew what was happening, he found himself wasted every night. He found himself frequenting sweaty clubs, rubbing up against strangers. It was completely unlike the Merlin he once was. At times he disgusted himself but most of the time he didn't have the energy to care. Gauis' default explanation 'he's in the tavern' developed a certain irony.

It became increasingly common for Merlin to wake up with no recollection of the night before feeling extremely sorry for himself. The nightmares still plagued him. He would wake drenched in sweat, tears and miscellaneous other bodily fluids. Usually they were his own but on more than one occasion the sticky sheets belonged to a complete stranger. Merlin cringed as he remembered Not-Arthur and the countless others he had completely freaked out on. Then he's be gripped by a pounding headache and a churning stomach. Merlin may be immortal but he still felt pain. Physical pain however was outweighed by the emotional. Every morning the soul crushing emptiness would hit him. It would cripple him until yet again, Merlin would reach for the bottle.

Merlin felt sick. His whole body seemed to be shaking. He could not let himself get back into that state again, no matter how much his body craved it. Arthur needed him now more than ever. Eventually, Merlin fell into a light sleep. Despite his dark thoughts before falling to sleep, it was the first night in a long time that he was free from nightmares.

When Martin had returned home, Brenda had taken one look at him and determined something was wrong.

"I'm worried about him," he admitted as his wife brought him a cup of tea. "They didn't care. Just said he'd discharged himself in the night and carried on with her job without a second thought for another person's well being,"

"They couldn't keep him against his will," Brenda said softly.

"I know. I'm just worried. I don't want him to end up in that lake again. No one even knows how he got there,"

Brenda nodded and gripped her husband's hand. She tried to understand how Martin was feeling. He had saved the boy's life only for him to go missing. The doctors had been worried enough about his mental state to try to keep Arthur in the hospital. But as soon as he'd vanished, they did not care anymore. Just another number. At least that is what it looked like to anyone on the outside.

She drained her own mug and tried to offer a reassuring smile. It seemed there was not much they could do to help Arthur now. Martin, however, was commited.

Brenda stood to take the empty mugs into the kitchen.

"There's something off about the whole situation," Martin said as she reached the door frame. "

She sighed, knowing Martin would not give in while he was in this mood. He was going to start playing detective once again. She just hoped he wouldn't get himself wrapped up in anything dangerous. The thought had entered her mind, seemingly from nowhere. The situation was strange, there was no denying that. But she hesitated to say Arthur was dangerous.

When Arthur awoke, it took him a few minutes to realise where he was. Even after taking in his surroundings, he wasn't entirely sure. Merlin had said this was where he lived now but that didn't make sense. Arthur found it hard to believe that he had been unconscious long enough for Merlin to move away from Camelot. He found it hard to believe that Merlin would ever leave Gaius behind. Absently, Arthur rubbed at the scar beneath his ribcage. Nothing made sense anymore.

Arthur's eyes fell onto the sleeping form of Merlin across the room. His mouth was hanging open, one arm dangling onto the floor and hair stuck up in every direction. Arthur gave a small cough, causing Merlin to shoot up, looking about wildly. His eyes settled on Arthur and his face instantly relaxed.

Without speaking, Merlin strode towards the cupboards in the opposite corner of the room. He flung several doors open, taking out two bowls and an assortment of other objects that Arthur did not recognise. Arthur couldn't help but wonder if Merlin was avoiding his gaze. The other man's shoulders were hunched over as he busied himself in his task.

Arthur was just about to open his mouth to speak when Merlin whirled around, bowl in hand.

"I don't have much food. This will have to do," Merlin said, pushing a bowl into Arthur's hand.

Arthur started at the mush before him. He wasn't sure what to make of it. It wasn't like anything Merlin had ever tried to feed him before.

"It's not poison," Merlin said, a small smile appearing on his face. "Eat up; you're going to need your strength today,"

"Are you finally going to explain what on earth is going on?" Arthur asked.

Merlin suddenly became very still. "Arthur…"

Arthur pushed the mush round the bowl, his brow furrowed. He waited for Merlin to continue for several long seconds. Upon looking up, he came face to face with a pair of sad blue eyes fixed on him.

"I do not know what else to tell you," Merlin breathed finally. "What I said last night was the truth. I perhaps could have found a better way to tell you but I meant what I said,"

Arthur sighed. He didn't know if he had the energy for this again. Somehow Merlin was convinced that Arthur was dead. Arthur could not comprehend how it could possibly be true.

"Merlin, if I had indeed died as you say, why would I be here now?" Arthur asked, perhaps a little more harshly than he should have.

"I don't know Arthur," Merlin sounded defeated. "I don't know how this works. I only know what Kilgharrah told me,"

"Kilgharrah?"

"Never mind. Just eat your breakfast. We need to go out,"

Arthur ate the food that Merlin had provided in silence. It wasn't as bad as it could have been, though it was fairly soggy. While Arthur was eating, Merlin had provided a fresh pair of clothes. Again, they were a little too tight, but they would do. As soon as Arthur was dressed, he found himself being pushed out of the door.

Arthur followed Merlin for about ten minutes, biting back both complaints and questions about their surroundings. He tried to wrap his head around what was going on. There were more of those horseless carts, zooming past at an alarming speed. Arthur felt uneasy at the amount of blatant magic that was being used around him. He tried not to think about it.

"Where are we going?" Arthur asked. He wanted to understand what was going on. He also wanted to start a conversation. Merlin was being unusually quiet.

"I'm taking you to Avalon,"