Control.

Gwen had already started adding pictures and facts to the investigation boards. They were large, clear plastic creatures which they'd been using for about three months. Mostly to show the real thought put into their cases, more than Merlin's ability to see the crimes with magic. Gwaine was filling her in on details, perched on the desk, when he saw Merlin walk in.

'Took you long enough,' he bellowed and ducked to avoid a swat Percy aimed at him. Merlin chuckled, suppressing any and all recollection which attempted to announce itself in his thoughts.

'DS Emrys, you missed yet another appointment with Dr Ruadan,' Agravaine accused, rounding on him. 'You can't miss the next meeting.'

'I thought you went last Thursday,' Arthur said, coming up behind him. They hadn't made much, if any progress, with their chat in the car and Merlin felt the tension between them twinge. A tension he'd created.

'Need I remind you the appointments must be kept for this last month or I'll have to suspend you,' Agravaine explained, his words dripping with something highly unpleasant. Merlin saw the slime slither around the man, but he'd grown used to its stench. No one else saw it, smelled it. They were lucky. 'You've managed the last six. If you want to be SIO on this case you'll need act like a leader, DS Emrys.'

'Yes, sir.'

'We've got statements,' Leon proclaimed, passing Merlin and Arthur with Elyan in tow and his notebook held high like a trophy. 'Spoke with the personal assistant, some of Thornberry's work friends and a rather distraught young woman. Not his wife. They were supposed to meet late last night for drinks, around nine, but he never made it. She sought us out and everything. Upset but clearly wanted to help.'

'Narrows down our time of death,' Arthur said, heading up to the boards where Gwen was editing the time in a red board marker.

'She does something with the media,' Elyan added.

Irritation bubbled up inside Merlin. 'Why didn't you check with myself or Arthur before getting the statement?'

'They're routine questions. If they have an alibi, the nature of their relationship with the victim, so on,' Leon said, slightly offended but his gentle features changed into a look of understanding. 'Next time we will. The media's dangerous territory, right?'

'We need to follow up on the alibis. This case requires we be thorough and fast,' Merlin said. He opened his mouth to address the pressures of the press having even greater attention on the case but Agravaine stepped forward and cut him short.

'If you two could head back out and check every alibi,' he ordered, and Leon gave Elyan a look of shared annoyance. They probably wanted to theorise, do something less mundane and more extravagant. 'DS Pendragon, head to the lab and see if they've had enough time to discover anything. If not, tell them to fast track the evidence and analysis. DS Emrys, Dr Ruadan will surely clear his schedule to fit you in so I need you to go have that meeting. The rest of you know what to do.'

Just as Agravaine retreated Arthur shifted into Merlin's view, holding out his keys. 'I'll take the tube.'

'As much as I'd love to put it off, I can't handle any more of that traffic,' Merlin said and Arthur withdrew his hand and offer. They looked at another, both trying to say something different. Merlin left. He sank down into London's underbelly and washed his senses of Arthur. Filled himself with the colours of hundreds of strangers as he sped away from Scotland Yard. The lights of the tube carriage flickered, drawing the attention of a few other passengers for a second before they returned to their own thoughts. Some shot him stares which lasted a beat too long and he shifted slightly. His face had been in the news more than he'd have liked.

A short walk later he was sat down again, waiting. No other 'patients' were there, leaving his only company in the hands of an old woman sat behind the receptionist's desk. A wall clock ticked away.

'DS Merlin Emrys?' a young man asked as he came in through a side door. He nodded and let the man, intern most likely, lead him to an office he'd been to over twenty times. Inside he found Dr Ruadan making notes on a pad resting on his knees.

'Ah, Merlin,' he greeted, smiling and inviting him to sit down on the opposite lounge chair. The room was clean, simple. Plain blinds, comfortable chairs. A potted plant. 'Last Thursday was a busy time?'

'Very,' Merlin said, taking his seat.

'You haven't missed any appointment until now. Regardless of workload,' Dr Ruadan went on to remind him. A deep look of concern was carved into the doctor's face, accompanied by dark eyes which did their best to discern your problems and help you. He'd learned he couldn't withhold all information from the psychologist after the first two sessions. 'What changed?'

Changed? He'd felt the pain in his throat, the inability to breathe. The magic pumping away inside had darkened even more. 'Nothing.'

'Have you had any more nightmares?'

'No. Not since last Friday,' he said, the truth tasting airy and pleasant in his mouth.

'The headaches?'

'Still have those.'

'Feeling stressed?'

'You always ask that,' Merlin noted, hooking his ankle up to rest on his knee.

Dr Ruadan was unfazed. 'So?'

'You already know the answer. It's a waste of time to ask.'

'Is it a waste of time to care?' he asked, pausing for Merlin's reply, but he had none. 'Did you have another argument with Arthur?'

'It wasn't an argument.'

'You're an expressive man, Merlin. When it comes to your heart at least. Your brows pinch together ever so slightly when you two have … discussions. Your answers are curt too,' he said, having completely ignored the pen and the pad since their conversation began. 'What did you talk about?'

'He doesn't understand why I'm moving out,' Merlin muttered, looking away from the face which echoed his troubles with sincerity. Dr Ruadan was around thirty years his senior, and that disparity crumbled into meaningless fact. Merlin felt understood, like he spoke with a worried friend, parent or another close family member. At least that's what he supposed speaking with a family member felt like. The doctor always watched him and spoke with integrity and truthfulness. During one of the sessions Merlin could have sworn he felt the faint touch of magic from him, but he hadn't felt it since.

'Have you explained?'

'Sort of,' he said, examining the bars of light cast onto the floor by the blinds. 'It's not him. Not Mordred.'

'Is that true?'

'I don't know. It was impulsive, moving in. I'd only known him for a month, maybe two.'

'You can't remember how long?' Dr Ruadan questioned, gentle surprise in his voice. 'Merlin, there are no time constraints on relationships.'

'You've said before. I'm not happy, that's all. I don't know if it's Arthur, or what happened, has been happening. I just need a positive change,' he said as he met with the doctor's eyes again. 'Control.'

'Tell him that. What you're going through is a public matter after all. Even he isn't receiving the kind of attention you are, be it tabloids or established newspapers. You can't expect him to completely understand, but knowing is better than being left in the dark.'

Merlin's phone buzzed, but he let the doctor's words soak in with the silence before he checked it. It was about the public affairs meeting. 'Duty calls.'

'Try not miss our next session?' Dr Ruadan implored, not fighting Merlin's movement towards the door.

'Can't promise anything,' he said. It was honest. True. The doctor's thick and greying facial hair obscured it, but Merlin could see a vague smile hidden under the moustache's bristles. He didn't care for the External Relations department, yet they'd saved his job at Scotland Yard from crashing and burning at the whim of Morgana and her lawyers, so he owed them a few minutes of his time.

.

.

.

'Find anything?' Gwen chirped hopefully, wrapping her arms around Arthur's shoulders from behind. She peered at the computer screen filled with any record of Thornberry he'd been able to find.

'No,' he puffed. 'This guy was a bloody saint. Either the killer knew something we don't or it was entirely random. It's only the first day, we have time to solve it.'

'With the press sniffing around like blood hounds?'

Arthur swivelled the chair around to display his sarcastic smile. 'Thanks for the reminder.'

'Are you going home tonight?' she asked, already holding her own packed bag with her desktop closed down for the night.

'Got some paperwork I need to put to bed first. I'll leave in an hour or so,' he assured her.

'Arthur, if you want to talk-'

'Gwen,' he interrupted. He showed her a genuine smile. 'I'm alright.'

She scoffed at him. 'You've always been a bad liar, Arthur Pendragon.'

'And Merlin's such a good one,' he muttered. Groaning he turned away from her and scrolled down another article.

'Everyone's concerned about you two,' Gwen said, now getting to the crux of the matter. The office was empty except for themselves and one or two others a far enough distance away. 'None of us know what he went through, though. The magic too, something I can barely comprehend living with. What he did-'

'I know, but we're worlds apart, Gwen, and as far as I can tell he doesn't want help. Even if he did, I'm not sure I'd know how to give it.'

'Would you let me finish for once?'

'Sorry.'

'What he did was beyond what we'd all assumed was possible. Beyond what he had assumed possible. You just need to be patient. Your worlds will come back together. The reporters are still attacking him after all. Especially with Morgana's release,' she broke off. 'Call me, day or night, if you need to.'

'Thank you, Guinevere,' Arthur said, lips pressing together when he realised what he'd said.

She frowned. 'As much as I like the ring of that, it's just Gwen.'

'Yeah, sorry. Thank you, Gwen. See you tomorrow.'

'A fresh start?'

'The freshest.'

She laughed softly and left, letting her tightly curled hair down from its bun as she went. Arthur continued noting whatever seemed remotely relevant. Studied law. Played cricket. He was in for a long night.

.

.

.

Agravaine tried his best to seem elated. He'd rushed over to the hospital when the doctor called him and told him the news. He was about to discover information that could destroy DS Emrys' whole career, and that wasn't an attractive idea. While a deep part of him loathed the young man, another knew that he was the best detective they had in his CID. To lose that asset? He shuddered at the thought.

'He woke up an hour or two ago. Your visits must have helped,' the nurse said, folding down a foot of the sheet covering Cenred's sleeping form.

'I'm just so glad he's better. We've been so worried,' Agravaine said, remaining at the foot of the hospital bed and watching expectantly. He'd settled into the lies he had to tell months ago. They'd become a second skin. Anything to protect his CID.

'You're a close friend?'

He nodded. 'I am. Ever since boyhood.'

'How sweet. We've had him under anaesthesia but I'll wake him for you now,' she said and pushed a needle into the soft skin of Cenred's inner elbow.

'Why sedate him?'

'He had a violent outburst when he woke. The coma might have caused brain damage, or the shock of the situation triggered it. We won't be sure until we run more tests.'

'Violent outburst?'

'Yelling things, thrashing about. One of the doctors left with a black eye. That's why we had to add the straps. Just in case,' she explained and looked up with an oddly cheerful smile. Agravaine was grateful for the padded straps which locked the man in place. They kept him safe.

'A sensible decision.'

'I'll leave you alone with him He's secured so you'll be in no danger,' she said, exiting and closing the door. Half of it consisted of a window through which the hospital went about business normally. Perhaps a little quieter given the late hour. Tentatively, Agravaine edged around the bed.

'Cenred, can you hear me?' he whispered, willing the man to wake again. Preferably more calmly. He waited in the silence, the heart monitor beeping steadily with Cenred's life. When Agravaine looked back from the monitor to Cenred's body he jumped away. The man was staring at him, the whites of his eyes strange to see after months of closed lids. He let out a breathy laugh. 'Welcome back. I'm DCS Agravaine. As I understand it, you had a brain haemorrhage while in police custody, under the supervision of DC Emrys.'

The beeping sped up.

'I'd like you to tell me what happened,' Agravaine said. 'Can you do that?'

'Storm,' Cenred croaked out, eyes shifting to bore holes into the ceiling. A wildness wreathed itself around the irises. The beeping grew sporadic. 'All around.'

'A storm?'

'Dark eyes, they were so dark,' he continued, words sluggish but churned out faster than the last, 'so black. Burning.'

'Did somebody attack you?' Agravaine queried, attempting to calm his own growing fear. The man was surely deranged. 'You need to tell me so I can bring them to justice, Cenred.'

'Everywhere,' he hissed, the beeping carrying on. Faster and unsteady. His speech was slack and spit grew to a froth at the corners of his mouth. 'The water. Water, it was everywhere, but I was dry.'

'Did Merlin Emrys do this to you?' he asked, wishing desperately for a clear answer out of the man.

'Merlin, Merlin,' Cenred repeated, over and over again for what seemed an age. 'Beautiful. His lips, cheekbones, eyes. Eyes in the dark, so bright, gold. Gold.'

Agravaine stepped away and was about to call for the nurse when the beeping halved in pace. Relaxed and steady it went on, and Agravaine found Cenred sleeping again. The whites of his eyes hidden again. He couldn't shake it though. The dread he felt about Merlin and his involvement with Cenred. A talk with Kilgharrah was in order. He straightened his jacket and strolled out of the hospital room, maintaining a tranquil composure. The madness in the words, the insanity plaguing Cenred's eyes, haunted each step.

.

.

.

His foot hit the pavement with more force than he'd expected and he felt a sharp twinge. One ribbon of magic tied around his ankle and the pain subsided within moments. Rounding the corner of the street, Merlin soothed the last knot in his back from sleeping on the sofa the previous night, something he couldn't adjust to even if it was his own choice. The morning sky remained overcast, but the air was warm, hot even.

'DS Merlin Emrys!'

The grating shout pulled his eyes down from the clouds above to the horde of journalists and their kin below. They polluted Scotland Yard's front doors and spilled onto the street with vans decorated with channel names. Keeping his steps steady he let the tangled colours and lives fade into a blur of irrelevance and headed for the entrance at the fastest sensible pace he could manage.

'What do you think of Morgana La Fey's reinstatement?'

'How did Thornberry die? Was it murder?'

'Are you and Arthur Pendragon involved?'

'Have you found the real spiral killers?'

It was impossible. They blocked his escape with their bodies, cameras, breaths and colours. At every angle a flash, his face caught by a lens. Reigning in the budding anger he stood still.

He cleared the clutter and dealt with their questions. 'Nick Thornberry's death is still under investigation, but foul play is suspected. As for Morgana La Fey's reinstatement, I'm glad my mistake hasn't cost either of us our careers and I hope to reconcile a good friendship with a colleague. With a clean slate we can tackle the Old Religion case with renewed life and insight. While there hasn't been another murder, the Met and Scotland Yard will pursue these monsters until they are found. Until they are locked away for an exceptionally long time.'

It sated their some of their hunger for information and Merlin pushed through the wall they formed into the building. Shouts and flashes pressed against his back until officers closed the doors. Inside the air shimmered with something different. A new scent wafted along the walls, desks, and Merlin made his way up to the floor of the CID's operations. When the lift's doors slid open the drone of the machinery quieted and everything else seemed to take on a dimmed quality. His feet were soundless on the carpet fibres as he was met with the stares of the murder investigation team, the task force.

Knights. Their lights were pure and brighter than the strangers he saw daily, yet now they seemed diminished. Mournful. He automatically scouted out Arthur, but he couldn't move towards his friends, towards him. He knew why the DS stood with unusual discipline and authority. The brightest colour of them all and it was muted to a worrying level.

'Morgana's been reinstated?' His own words felt foreign, filling the silence with poison.

Arthur's eyes hardened. 'Apparently.'

'It's a joke. It has to be,' Gwaine said, the usual burst of vigour in his voice rusted and tired.

'If we made an appeal,' Leon began but Gwen touched his arm, shaking her head.

'DCS Agravaine would have known about this for weeks,' she said, forcing them to face what they'd already guessed. 'He could have told us and he probably didn't because we'd do exactly that.'

'So we just let that witch, murderer, walk around Scotland Yard freely?' Leon said, his hands clenching into fists. Merlin remembered how they'd all watched him get shot. Die. Saw the power magic held. They no doubt feared her and the potential she brought with her. Did they fear him? His power?

'We have no other choice,' Arthur said with finality, his features gaunt and stretched. Kilgharrah's office door clicked open and broke the heavy tension. The DCI was the first to leave, shortly followed the by the dark and slimy Agravaine. Morgana emerged. Merlin felt sick to his stomach but controlled it. Control. Keep that and he would be fine.

Mordred.

The waves crashed against rock. Agravaine's mouth moved, and Merlin knew he was speaking. Knew everyone listened with irritation. Knew Arthur had shifted to partially block him from a direct route to Morgana or Mordred. He couldn't look away from the ocean, from the man. The magic plucked at webs in the air. The small vibrations ran past him, rippling through the colours and leaving nothing in their place.

The next thing he knew was the water splashing and pooling in the porcelain sink. The cool air of the bathroom. He put his hands into the stream, felt the water's temperature. It was cold, but he couldn't feel it. He knew it, but couldn't feel it. Couldn't feel the water parting over his skin. Then washing over his whole body, rushing into his ears. Savage and uncontrolled, this water belonged to the sea. The memory of it folding over him, pushing him down as his body was shoved one way then the next by terrifying currents, consuming him. It was more than Mordred's, more than anything existing in that lifetime. It was dark, and the waves were too ferocious to give him clear sight of the world above its surface. It stung in his throat, seared his lungs as he failed to breathe. It was inside him. He couldn't fight it. Didn't want to.

'Merlin!'

He drew in a sharp breath and found himself standing in the bathroom. The tap was turned on, his wet hands clamped around the basin's edge.

'Christ, I didn't know about Mordred,' Arthur said, entering the public bathroom. Merlin swallowed it all down, the ghost of that stinging water invading him, the final moments of his last life. 'He's been cleared by a bloody psychologist. According to that idiot the real killers mentally manipulated him, and … I can't believe they're getting away with this.'

'It's fine, Arthur,' Merlin breathed, twisting the metal tap off with his wet hand. He dried his hands, relishing the noise cancelling effect of the hand drier as it rolled the water off his skin, evaporating some of it as it blew hot air.

'He tried to kill you. Tried to,' Arthur faltered, his eyes wide with anger and confusion.

'Under the mental manipulation of serial killers,' Merlin murmured, his mind successfully locking away the memory. It couldn't lock out Mordred though.

'Merlin, you know it's all rubbish,' he said, with concern coating the statement. Free of the drier's distraction Merlin put all of his attention onto Arthur.

'We've tried to fight it. We failed. Now we need to play the game,' he explained, hearing the coldness which infected his voice. 'Adapt.'

'You shouldn't have to,' Arthur whispered, reaching forward and taking Merlin's face in his hands. Their warmth stunned him for a moment, before the twisting in his gut returned to distract him.

'That doesn't mean I won't,' he said bluntly before Arthur kissed him. The twisting grew worse, unbearable, and Merlin wanted to push away and never let him go at the same time. He felt so cold, and Arthur gave him heat. He drifted into it and then willed himself to pull away, lips brushing one last time before air swarmed in and walled them off from each other. Their hearts beat several times before Merlin asked, 'Have forensics come back yet?'

'Gwen should have the results,' Arthur said, his breath heavy and lips shining. 'She gave Gaius a call last night. The pathology report should be finished by now.'

'Right, let's go then,' he said and didn't pause before heading out of the bathroom.

Arthur jogged up beside him. 'You ignored me when I called for you to stop. When you left to get away from them. You vanished around the corner.'

'Did I?'

'It's dangerous to use magic like that here, even with, you know,' Arthur argued, but all Merlin could think about was how he couldn't remember leaving to the bathroom. He didn't respond and when they got back to the desks Morgana and Mordred were gone. Kilgharrah was watching Merlin with acute interest. To his dismay Agravaine remained and looked to him when he reached his own desk.

'Glad to see you're back with us DS Emrys. I've recruited DC Vivian Maclain to assist on the Thornberry case. A fresh face always helps,' he declared.

'You mean somebody to report on how well we do our jobs,' Gwaine said under his breath.

'The Commissioner has questions about this task force, and with such attention from the media we need to show diligence. Be glad she's a DC, the other option was one of the new direct Superintendents. Would have taken control of your entire team,' he said, directing the last note towards Arthur and Merlin. 'You would have outright rejected some ex-headteacher as a supervisor, I'm sure. Under the circumstances I appreciate the difficulty of the situation but you must understand that their reinstatements come from higher up on the food chain. Ah, DC Maclain.'

'DS Arthur Pendragon?' a woman questioned behind them and Merlin turned to see a familiar face. She was sweet, with fair hair and delicate features. Luminous. Her eyes riveted themselves upon Arthur, and then him. A hand was extended towards them. 'Finally getting to see you in the flesh. I'm impressed.'

'With Merlin or Arthur?' Percy asked from the side.

'Both,' she said with a honey dipped smile. Arthur shook her hand first as Merlin stared at her in mild shock.

'How long have you been in the Met?' Arthur asked as they shook.

'Four years,' DC Maclain said. The handshake ended but she didn't offer it to Merlin. 'You, DS Pendragon?'

'I need the name of the last senior investigating officer you worked with, DC Maclain,' Arthur skirted the question, crossing his arms.

'So you can check out my track record?'

'I like to know what I'm working with,' he said, eyes narrowing ever so slightly. Merlin felt invisible next to the two golden haired officers. A horrible thought cut into his mind. They would look stunning together.

'Want to make sure I have no suicidal tendencies?'

Arthur frowned. 'What do you mean?'

'Heard about DS Emrys' stunt in the underground tunnels last year,' she elaborated, showing her thorns as she now faced Merlin. Any glow in her skin vanished. 'Got to say, it wasn't a shining moment for the Met. No mask, and were you even wearing a suit?'

'Merlin's one of the best detectives at the Yard,' Elyan defended.

'Now he is,' she pointed out. 'If he weren't he'd have lost his job months ago and had a show with a tribunal.'

'Your point?' Merlin snapped, hating the glint of satisfaction in her eyes. Of course. Sent by the Commissioner, she'd be judging him with a pathological eye.

'I'm not your enemy. I'm here to help with the case, but also to make sure this team isn't the money waster everyone thinks it is,' DC Maclain said with ambivalence. Her light but depthless eyes turned to Arthur. 'Do me and yourself a favour, Arthur? Drop the pissed boyfriend act and grow up. You all screwed up on a high profile case and you should be glad you're not out on the street. Granted that might still happen, depending on what I see. Let's not make this harder than it needs to be.'

'Gaius sent over his report,' Gwen broke in from her desk, and Merlin thanked her from the bottom of his heart. 'You need to see this, Merlin.'

He stepped away and read the report. 'Burned? On the inside? No focal point. No source. His internal organs were completely destroyed, all blood vessels showing signs of scarring from fire, even the blood and tissue fluid evaporated. Bones, skin cells, everything else is intact and unaffected.'

He trailed off, picturing Thornberry's unscathed body in the study. Feeling that void, the inability to see what had happened. Definitely magic.

'That's impossible,' DC Maclain remarked with an elegant frown.

'It's been a while since we've had a weird one,' Leon said with a smile, leaping upon the perfect distraction from the weight of the earlier scene.

'You'll need to pay a visit to the Coroner's Office,' DCI Kilgharrah concluded, joining in with the discussion. 'DC Emrys, if I could have a word with you?'

Merlin turned to see him heading into his office, also catching sight of DC Maclain watching Arthur.

'Notice how she called him Arthur? No longer DS,' Gwen whispered, realising Merlin's hesitation to leave.

'Don't really want to think about it,' he murmured back and left to Kilgharrah's office.

'Merlin, I've got Morgana working with the Trident Command. She'll be kept busy,' Kilgharrah informed him when Merlin shut the door. He kept his hand wrapped around the handle, studying the subtle pattern running through the paint on the wall.

'How?' he asked after deliberation. 'How the hell did they get reinstated?'

'I honestly don't know.'

Merlin's hand relaxed, dropping down to his side while he turned to study the DCI instead. Those old eyes, the skin loose and creased around them. How it drooped down at the edges and gave the man a stare of melancholy. The wildness in the hairs of the eyebrows, striking up at an angle, a dying ash brown and immortalised silver mixed together.

'Mordred's working in a different department too,' Kilgharrah went on. 'Merlin. Emrys. You need to tread carefully. One wrong step and the public will eat you alive. The Commissioner won't have to do anything, they'll probably set him on fire for good measure.'

'You've hardly said a word to me since Christmas, and now all you can give me are warnings and ignorance,' Merlin said, his magic twitching in his veins.

'I thought it would be best. Distance,' he reasoned. Merlin could see the faint shapes of scales in the ageing pigmentation of Kilgharrah's skin. They ran along his jaw line, temples.

'You were my guide. I thought you'd help.'

'I did try. You told me to only ever discuss police work with you,' he reminded him bitterly. 'You're not a boy, Merlin. You're not new to magic.'

'Yes, I am. I was. Try having,' he paused to count the years, 'What? A good thousand years worth of living, minus a couple hundred maybe, all crammed into your brain over two days. See if you come out of it the same as when you went in.'

'I thought it would come in stages, the memories.'

'It didn't. I remembered dying, Kilgharrah,' he snarled, the sensation of falling washing over him for a second. 'I jumped. Off a cliff.'

'Merlin,' Kilgharrah sighed, but he'd held back the anger scratching at the inside of his skull and bones for months.

'How fucked up is that? Eight hundred years, trying to help, to do something with my disgustingly old existence while I waited and still no Arthur,' Merlin said, voice rough and growing louder. Catching himself he reeled it all in with a sigh of his own. 'You know what? It doesn't matter. I'm fine.'

'I don't know,' Kilgharrah repeated.

'You've said.'

'Emrys, I don't know why we're back. It took all of my strength to shred the dragon and create a human form. I have no idea why this has happened, how we all ended up here, of all places. I am so sorry you had to remember your old life in that way,' he explained, and Merlin took the apology, the acknowledgement of shared cluelessness, but it still left him on edge. All the colours of all the people in the world couldn't distract him from it now.

'Thank you for the conversation, DCI Kilgharrah,' he mumbled, pushing the handle down.

'I think you should tell Arthur,' he suggested.

'Never. I won't do that to him,' Merlin said without turning back and then the sourness surged up again and he looked at the ex-dragon. 'Hell, you probably want to bite my head off for even letting them know I have magic, right?'

'You really have grown up,' Kilgharrah said lowly as Merlin left his office.

Gwaine hung up on the phone when he came out. 'Thornberry's wife just got off the train back from Newcastle. Uniforms are holding her at St Pancras.'

'How about we go fetch her? Informal interrogation. See if she was involved,' he said, tucking away as many of the memories as he could. Scanning around for Arthur to approve the suggestion he came to no avail. It was habit only. He didn't need approval. 'Arthur?'

'Oh, he and Maclain went to check the pathology report,' Gwen supplied.

'Great,' Merlin huffed and gestured to Gwaine to come with him. The Irishman clapped him on the shoulder and offered a consoling smile.