Chapter two - Behind the walls

Arthur met his neighbour the next day, as the boy crept out the house at five in the morning. And, if anyone were to ask, Arthur would vehemently deny that he stayed up all night just to see if the boy would come outside.

The other boy was barefoot, wearing knee-high, blue pyjamas that were probably a few sizes too short for him. Why Arthur noticed these little details, he'll never understand, but even so, just looking at the black-haired, bean-pole of a boy made him shiver unconsciously.

He was lugging a bin bag, which in one quick motion, he threw into the outside bin. Arthur was slightly impressed (even if he wouldn't admit it); clearly, he was stronger than he looked.

"Hey!" Arthur yelled from his upstairs window, not really giving a damn if he woke up the entire neighbourhood.

His head shot up and stared at Arthur, mouth ever so slightly open. For a split second, he didn't move from the spot he was standing in, until a distinctly male voice called from inside the boy's house to come back inside.

"What is your name!?" Arthur called, not being able to stand having to refer to him as 'the boy' any longer.

"Merlin." He got in response, followed by a sad, lonely smile. "Arthur, right?"

-Merlin-

The next day, all Arthur could think about was Merlin. The lonely smile he gave Arthur, the glazed look his eyes had, and the sad submission to his life.

As Arthur sat at the table, picking at the pasta his father had made for dinner with his fork. He didn't feel much like eating, not now he knew that there was a boy just his age probably starving next door to him.

"Arthur?" His father prompted him, bringing him out of his daydreams. "Are you alright? You've been staring off into space for the past ten minutes."

Arthur nodded vaguely, still not taking his eyes off the spot he was focusing on. He did wonder why Merlin was being treated in that manner. Was there a reason, or were the people (or maybe person) he was living with just an awful person? While Arthur had never met an abused child before Merlin, he was not stupid; the thinness, the little glances of bruises he saw when Merlin's shirt rode up.

It was all pointing to one thing.

"Arthur, seriously, I'm not blind. What is the matter?" His father spoke again, and this time Arthur knew he had to respond else he'd never get time to think.

"There is nothing the matter. I'm just tired, is all."

Uther seemed content with that, and just turned back to his food.

As Arthur finished his plate, he suddenly had a plan to see Merlin again.

(A/N: Thanks to the guys who reviewed, and I will do my best to get out longer chapters.)

I don't own Merlin, unfortunately.