Ch. 6

"I have magic," Merlin said, fighting through his sorrow and tears. "And I use it only for you, Arthur. Only for you."

~oOo~

Morgana, Arthur had to grudgingly admit with some pain, was rather, somewhat, in a way, reliable after all when it came to shopping for someone else. The bed she found for Merlin was just right, not too big, nothing even remotely fancy and girlish, but comfortable and set at a price that didn't make Arthur groan with regret. And Morgana being Morgana was pleased to the point of condescending smugness.

Arthur didn't care, for once. The bed wouldn't be delivered until after Sunday, which meant Arthur wouldn't be able to see Merlin's reaction until they both came home from work, and for some odd reason it left Arthur feeling on pins and needles rather than excited and self-satisfied. He wasn't looking forward to how Merlin would take it.

Merlin was such an emotionally fragile kid – yet one more attribute to the boy that Arthur found utterly, almost disgustingly wrong. And although he'd grown more open and outgoing over the past few days it still didn't take much to overwhelm him. Case in point, Gaius had spared Merlin the arduous process of job hunting by hiring him as part of the clinic's very small cleaning staff, old Mrs. Monroe having retired due to her arthritis. Arthur had told Gaius of Merlin's penchant for cleaning during one of Gaius' frequent calls to learn how Merlin was doing.

Merlin, being the emotional fragile thing that he was, had been so grateful he had started to cry, his voice thick as he thanked Gaius over the Arthur's mobile and promised as though promising his very soul that he would do a good job and not let Gaius down. Then he'd fretted, with much agony and even more crying, whether he really would be good enough and that he probably wasn't worthy to keep such a posh clinic clean and how maybe Gaius would be better off hiring an expert. He would have called Gaius back right then and there had Arthur not hid the mobile where Merlin couldn't find it. It had been quite the ordeal, Merlin barely able to eat, unable to sleep, skipping breakfast come Monday morning, he was so nervous, and despite having all Sunday to get used to the idea that, yes, someone had just hired him, he seemed worse off than before.

Arthur couldn't begin to imagine how Merlin was going to react to receiving a bed. Because, Arthur realized, it would be more than just a bed to the boy.

It would be a home.

There would most definitely be tears.

Arthur, needing to keep his mind off Merlin's inevitable girlish reaction, focused on his work. It was sometime around an hour before lunch that his father summoned him for their usual start-of-the-week confrontation, and Arthur dragged his prematurely weary body to the top-most floor of the building.

"Arthur," Uther greeted, almost chipperly, much to Arthur's surprise and growing consternation. Uther never greeted him with such an upbeat attitude.

"How was your weekend?" he asked next, as usual except for his mild smile that actually seemed to reach to his eyes.

Arthur eased himself into the seat as though it were a snake and not his father at the desk.

"Er... uneventful, actually," he said. There was no reason to inform Uther of Saturday's mugging incident. "Stayed home. Played cards with the lads. Nothing much else."

Uther nodded. "Good, good. I will make this brief seeing as how the lunch hour is almost upon us. I merely wanted to let you know that it has come to my attention that you have shown marked improvement in your work, and I wanted you to know how pleased I am that you are showing such initiative."

Arthur was silent, mostly because he was trying not to gape. He couldn't decide which he was more stunned by – that he was actually getting work done or that his father was actually praising him. Arthur would be the first to admit – because he often did – that he had never been the most motivated of individuals when it came to his job. Mostly because he didn't want to do it, partly because it was skull-numbingly dull, and also in some small part out of the hope that his father would finally give up on his stubborn resolve to turn Arthur into another Uther by firing him.

"Arthur, you know that I did not hire you merely because you are my son. I do believe in what you are capable of if you put your mind to it. I do have faith in your abilities." Then, Uther smiled, actually smiled, the kind of smile that lit up his entire face. "Keep this up and you may finally be able to qualify for a raise."

Arthur continued to gape until a part of his mind realized, rather slowly, that Uther was waiting for a response.

"Oh," Arthur said. It was all he seemed capable of getting out of his mouth at the moment.

Uther chuckled, then dismissed him with a flap of his hand and a, "I won't keep you. You may go."

Arthur left – at least his body did, his mind was still busy reeling over the fact that Uther hadn't chewed him out, that they had left on good terms – better than good terms, Uther had actually praised him. Because Arthur was actually doing a good job.

Arthur wondered at what point he had stumbled through whatever invisible portal had taken him to this alternate universe where he didn't idle away the work hours on the Net and his father was proud of him. Arthur had been distracted, that was all he could figure – distracted to the point of... better work ethics? Lords, he was odd.

Or maybe he'd finally gotten it through his thick head that life was easier when he didn't give his father a reason to give him grief. Keep your head down, do your work, make sure Uther has no reason what so ever to find out that you took in a homeless kid, used the family physician to make him all better and, oh yes, just bought the kid a bed as well as found out he has magical powers. Which was ridiculous - not the magical powers part (even though it should have been ridiculous, except it didn't feel ridiculous, which was rather ridiculous in and of itself) – but the part where Arthur had thought and dreaded over Uther not only finding out about Merlin but actually caring that Arthur had taken him in. Uther had never cared about Arthur's social life except when he thought it would interfere with Arthur's work. If anything, Uther would be more than likely to thank Merlin for becoming enough of a distraction to actually aim Arthur's mind toward work rather than away from it.

Lords, it really was Merlin's fault, wasn't it? Because taking him in had meant another mouth to feed, and suddenly those things that Arthur hadn't given a damn about began to matter. It was as though Arthur had forgotten about his trust fund, and his paycheck had grown into something more than extra spending cash, it had become a necessity.

Arthur had no clue what to make of it all. He returned to his desk and resumed his work until lunchtime, finally figuring that if it meant getting out of the office verbally unscathed, then it wasn't all that bad.

~oOo~

Arthur was nervous, so mostly silent because of it. Merlin was... Arthur wasn't quite sure what Merlin's state of mind was, but the look on his face Arthur wanted to call bewilderment, as if Merlin still couldn't quite believe that he had a job. He was also exhausted according to he way his shoulders slumped, but it was a happy exhaustion of a job well done, the small smile trying to tug at his lips said so.

"Have a good first day?" Arthur finally thought to ask.

Merlin startled, not out of alarm, but like he had forgotten Arthur was the one currently driving him home.

"Yes. Definitely. Mrs. Kline was very patient with me – she's in charge of the cleaning. She even said I did a good job but that was probably her just being nice."

"Doubt it," Arthur muttered.

"But it's not all that hard, really. Just wiping things down, vacuuming, mopping and putting tools in the autoclave and such."

"Good," Arthur said with a nod.

"And your day?" Merlin asked with a smile, like a giddy child with energy in desperate need of an outlet. That was most definitely happy exhaustion Arthur was seeing.

"Good," Arthur said out loud. He added under his breath. "Surprisingly."

Merlin went on about his day as though he'd been eager to tell someone, anyone, who'd be willing to listen. It wasn't all that interesting, to be honest – there'd been a child who wouldn't stop screaming even though all Gaius did was listen to her heart, an older lady who kept calling Gaius Greg and Merlin Marlin, and Merlin got to feed the fish in Gaius' lobby. But the more Merlin talked, the happier and more giddy he became, until one would think he was working at Disneyland and not some small, private clinic.

Then they arrived home. Arthur made sure that he was the first to walk in, and Gwaine met him the very moment he stepped through the door.

"Bed's here," he said in Arthur's ear, what with Merlin following close behind.

"Is it ready?" Arthur whispered back.

Gwaine beamed. "Ready and waiting."

"Ready and waiting in a manner that it won't collapse if he so much as sits on it?"

Gwaine feigned hurt with a hand over his heart. "Oh, come on, Pendragon, give my mechanic skills some credit. The lads who brought it over did the hard part, I just helped place the mattress."

They then turned as one to Merlin, startling the boy with their suddenly rapt attention.

"Merlin, come with us," Arthur said.

Merlin reacted like a deer in the headlights, wide-eyed and a little frozen. "What? Why? What's going on?"

Gwaine nudged Arthur hard in the ribs. "Next time, I do the talking," he said, then he smiled. "Nothing, mate. Just got a bit of a surprise for you is all. Come on, this way. You're going to love it, promise."

Gwaine led the way into his room, a room that had been cleaned beyond tidy to immaculate – Merlin-style immaculate. The furniture had been rearranged putting Gwaine's bed on the far right, and the new bed on the left under the window. Being the largest room, because Gwaine was spoiled and an incessant whiner like that, there was more than enough room to spare.

Arthur and Gwaine parted, both sweeping a hand at the bed that had been made up with all the spare blankets and sheets they had, knowing how easily cold Merlin got.

Merlin stood in the doorway, jaw agape. Arthur rolled his eyes.

"Before you ask, yes, this bed is yours," he said. "As is half the closet." He looked pointedly at Gwaine. "Right?"

"Of course!" Gwaine said, mildly affronted. "It's not like he has much to go in there. The top drawer of the dresser's also yours, mate. Same with the two shelves by the window if you've got trinkets you want to put up."

Merlin continued to stand there, just staring.

"Um..." Gwaine said, leg jiggling uncertainly. "You do like it?"

Then Arthur saw it, the bright shimmering sheen coating Merlin's eyes, making the blue of them twice as vivid. The shaking soon followed, keeping mostly to the shoulders and the hands.

"Gwaine," Arthur said. "Could you give us a moment?"

Gwaine leaned in toward Arthur. "Does he not like it?"

"Just give us a moment," Arthur said softly. Gwaine, puzzled, nodded all the same and left, giving Merlin a pat on the shoulder in passing. Once Gwaine was gone, Arthur took a stunned Merlin by the bicep, steered him toward the new bed, then tugged him down until he was sitting on the edge. Arthur sat next to him, angled so that he was facing Merlin. He leaned in with his elbows on his knees.

The water gathering in Merlin's eyes finally fell.

"Why?" he asked.

Arthur shrugged. "Do I need a reason?"

Merlin sniffed. He wiped quickly at his nose with a shaking hand. "Cause you felt sorry for me."

Arthur inhaled deeply, then exhaled slowly as he thought on the answer. "You would think so. At least, I thought so, at first. Which is odd because I've never really been one to feel sorry for anyone. But that's the problem. Had it been pity I think I would have simply dropped you off at the nearest homeless shelter. I brought you home instead. I can't explain why – I'm still not sure why. Logically it was foolish of me since I had no idea who you were and you could have been a serial killer for all I knew."

This brought a small, fleeting smile to Merlin's face and a short, quiet laugh.

"It felt right," Arthur went on. "That's all I know. And I think, at this point, it doesn't really matter, seeing as how you're not a serial killer and all. You're a good lad, actually, and you deserve this as far as I'm concerned. So don't go arguing it otherwise, understand?"

Merlin nodded, even as the tears kept falling.

"Good," Arthur said, clapping Merlin on the back. "Then I'm going to leave, and you're going to sit here and enjoy your new bed and not worry about the whys or what it all means or what have you. Right? Right. I'll just leave you to it, then."

Arthur got up and headed for the door.

"Arthur?"

Arthur stopped and turned. Merlin looked at him with eyes made brighter by even more tears. The boy was going to dehydrate at this point. Did the poor kid ever not have a reason to cry?

"Thank you?" Merlin said. It was like being kicked, but in a good way, if there was such a thing as a good kick. Because Arthur knew, right off, that the gratitude he was hearing, seeing, encompassed so much more than just a bed.

Arthur smiled. "You're welcome."

~oOo~

"So?"

Arthur looked up then around the fridge door at Gwaine, sprawled out on the couch but his head tilted back and turned as much as possible in order to look at Arthur. Arthur went back to rummaging through the fridge for an after-work (and after-dealing-with-an-emotional-Merlin-again) snack.

"So what?" Arthur said.

"So what? Does he like the bed, that's what."

"Yes, he likes it. He was just overwhelmed, that's all. It's... how he is if you haven't noticed." Arthur settled on a carton of left over Tai food then joined Gwaine on the couch. All he wanted to do was eat, numb his brain with TV and hope Merlin came out dry-eyed and happy. Today had been a good day and he would like it to end on a high note, thank you very much, by not having to deal with overly emotional former homeless boys.

"I know who he is," Gwaine said.

"Do you?" Arthur said absently, the mind-numbing TV watching already starting to kick in.

"He's that lad that was huddled by the dumpster."

Arthur's fork loaded with food paused halfway to his mouth.

Gwaine sighed. "Look, I never said anything because it didn't matter to me. I know what everyone thinks of me – Gwaine, too busy daydreaming about all those lovely super models to see what's going on right in front of him. But I see, mate. Believe me, I see."

"But you didn't question it," Arthur stated.

"Like I said, it didn't matter," Gwaine said.

Arthur shot him a withering look. "It didn't matter? Me bringing in some homeless boy we didn't know a ruddy thing about and it didn't matter? iMe/i bringing in a homeless boy instead of chasing him off like I've always done, and it didn't matter?"

Gwaine winced. "Yeah, I know. It just... it didn't, I'm sorry. If anything I thought it kind of adorable, you being nice and all. I guess, maybe, deep down I didn't want to say anything and end up giving you a reason to go back on your decision out of some stupid sense of pride. I don't know. It was weird, weird as you taking in some homeless kid. But I went with it because..."

"It didn't matter," Arthur finished.

Gwaine lifted up his hands. "Who am I to argue against anyone helping a homeless kid out? You know me, Arthur. I'm driftwood on the tide. I go where it takes me. You decide to bring a homeless kid home, feed him, let him borrow your clothes, take him to the doctor, so be it. To be honest, I probably would've done the same if I hadn't been pissed out of my mind. Or at least dropped him a few quid. I'm always doing that, anyway, when you're not looking."

Arthur nodded. "That's why you're always a quid short when we need a taxi ride home."

Gwaine snorted, shaking his head. "I'm just saying." He looked at Arthur. "I don't care why you took the kid in. But I think it's good that you did, and what you're doing for him. It's... it's right, what you're doing for him."

Arthur's gaze softened. After a moment, he nodded. "I know."

TBC...

A/N: We're nearing the end, folks. I'll be posting the last chapter tomorrow.