Dwellers

No matter how much Arthur pleaded, Gaius wouldn't let him investigate Uther's death. He was too close to it, the superintendent said. Gaius knew his emotions would cloud his judgment and actions, and Arthur wished he could prove him wrong. But he knew it would get the better of him no matter how hard he tried.

And being on bereavement leave wasn't making things any better with nothing to occupy his mind while the covers of newspapers were headlined with "Who Shot Uther Pendragon?" In his home office, he reclined on the futon while Merlin spun in the desk chair.

"Why don't you and Mithian go out and do something to get your mind off everything," Merlin suggested, wiggling his eyebrows.

Arthur tore a sheet off his legal pad and threw it at the wastebasket, making it in with the other identical yellow balls. "We broke up."

Merlin had been in mid rotation when Arthur answered. He stopped abruptly when he faced his partner. "What? When?!"

"The day you mucked up your proposal to Freya."

"Before or after I came over and went on and on about how big of an idiot I am?"

Despite Arthur's initial annoyance when Merlin didn't want to leave him alone, he enjoyed it when he overreacted in his distress. "Before."

"Why didn't you say anything?" Merlin's arms flailed out toward him. "That's, that's," his hands waved looking for the right word, "important!"

"Is it?" Arthur's lip quirked up in the slightest of smiles. "I didn't want to interrupt your breakthrough."

Merlin made a grumbling noise. "Guess Freya lost the bet."

The tearing noise of the next sheet of paper stopped halfway through. Arthur narrowed his eyes at Merlin. "You bet how long our relationship would last?"

"Freya made the bet with Morgana. Freya. Not me. Freya," Merlin stressed.

"Are you sure it was Freya?" Arthur lightheartedly asked.

They shared a laugh. When their chuckles died down Merlin looked at Arthur with confidence. "We'll find who did this."

"Relay me all the information you uncover," Arthur said.

"Um…" Merlin's confident appearance faltered. "By we, I meant metaphorically. Because…you see…"

Arthur shook his head knowing what Merlin meant. "Gaius took you off the case, too."

Merlin hung his head. "Yeah."

Arthur let out a tight laugh. "If I go mad, I may need to take it out on you."

Merlin gave him a sympathetic smile. "You're my mate, so I'll allow it. But just this once!" He pointed up his index finger for emphasis, and got a crumpled yellow paper ball to the forehead in return.

Blinking away his tears, Arthur looked up at the sky. Of course it would be overcast during q funeral, he thought. He silently exhaled and leveled his gaze back to the service as the last person laid a flower on the casket.

After countless handshakes and sorry-for-your-losses, people began to disperse. Arthur looked around, and he caught a glimpse of Gwen standing next to a tree from a spectator's distance away. Another friend of the family blocked his view to give Arthur their condolences. When the apologizing straggler was out of the way, Gwen was gone.

Morgana came next to him and looped her arm with his. "Ready to head back to mine? We probably have an hour before everyone else arrives. Gaius and Alice will be much sooner, though, so we get first dibs on Alice's cake."

Arthur glanced back at the spot where he saw Gwen. Knowing she wasn't going to reappear, he patted his sister's hand. "Let's go."

No matter the occasion, Morgana was a great entertainer. Arthur just sat on the couch while she made everyone feel comfortable when they were supposed to be doing that for her. At the end of the night, she tried to get him to stay when he was on his way out. Arthur insisted he was fine, just tired. He hadn't eaten all day (not even Alice's cake), or had a sip to drink. He was running on fumes. He assured her that he would call when he got home. Then they shared their first real hug since they were children.

Arthur paused when he entered his home, and he smiled at the familiar sound of clinking. "What are you doing?" he called out.

Gwen's voice came from the kitchen, "Making tea!"

He removed his jacket and tie and sat down heavily on the couch. "How did you know I was on my way back?"

"Woman's intuition," she said coming into the room, and handed him the mug before sitting next to him.

Arthur stared at the clear yellow liquid, and the sweet honey and floral scent filled his nostrils. "What's this?" he eyed Gwen, a little wary but nostalgic of the first time she made him tea.

She rolled her eyes, but smiled. "Chamomile."

Arthur lifted the mug to his lips.

"With a little something extra," Gwen added.

He paused.

She smirked.

Arthur snorted a laugh into the mug and then took a long sip. They sat in comfortable silence for a while as Arthur drank. It wasn't too hot, so his dehydrated body thanked Gwen as he downed it. He spoke again when he finished the tea. "My father did work for the MI6."

Gwen perked up, intrigued. "Why did you keep telling me he didn't? He was a secret agent wasn't he?"

"Not quite," he said.

"More of an M than a Bond?"

"He met my mother there. My mother…she…she died giving birth to me."

The sudden turn in his story dropped the childish glee from Gwen's face. "I'm so—"

"Please, don't," Arthur stopped her. "I've heard enough apologizes today." Focusing on his empty mug on the table, he continued his story.

"Father threw himself into his work. Our butler and nanny practically raised me for the first two years. He wasn't home much. Then Morgana came to live with us when I was eight and she was nine—that's another story. When he realized that he now had two children to raise, he transferred to the MI5. His workload was barely alleviated, but he was home more." Arthur sighed deeply.

Gwen rubbed his back then stopped. "I'm sorry," she said despite of his earlier request.

Arthur looked at her, tired. "I told you not to—"

"No. I mean…" Gwen's hands curled into fists in her lap. "It's my fault. If I hadn't given you the list…"

"We don't even know if it's connected." Arthur's eyebrows knitted together. He hadn't even thought of that.

"Is it normal for someone to be shot in your father's neighborhood?" she asked and Arthur didn't answer her. "Exactly."

Arthur rubbed his forehead. "If it is a revenge killing, that doesn't make it your fault. Don't ever think that."

"Too late," Gwen said, mournful.

"Then don't dwell on it." With another long exhale, Arthur felt his body lean to the side. "What else did you put in that tea?" He was suddenly horizontal, his head on a warm pillow. I don't have black pillows. Lace pillows… It was Gwen's dress. His head was resting on her lap, and he couldn't move. No. He didn't want to move.

"Lavender aaaaand sleeping pills."

"Ha." Arthur felt Gwen's fingers rake through his hair. "Why are you here, Guinevere?"

"I just wanted to check make sure you were okay. I mean I know you're not okay, your father just…I mean…I'm rambling."

"Don't stop," Arthur found himself begging her. Her voice seemed so far away, and he wished it was closer.

"Don't stop rambling? That's a first," she giggled.

Like a lullaby, it was the last thing Arthur heard before sleep consumed him.

Gwen's fingers stopped when she felt Arthur's breathing steady. She had been joking about the sleeping pills. From the looks of him at the funeral, she knew he would be very tired, but he would fight sleep and be consumed by Uther's death. That's one thing they had in common. They were dwellers.

Arthur's phone rang in his jacket pocket, and he made no attempt to get up. She reached to the end of the couch, and her fingertips just grabbed it. She took the phone out and saw that Morgana was calling. "Hello," she answered. "It's Gwen by the way," she added before his sister questioned.

"Oh, hello. Where's Arthur? He was supposed to call me when he got home."

"He's…" Gwen bent over to look at his face, "asleep."

She could feel Morgana's suspicion. "And you were…?"

"I just came over to give my condolence. I made him some tea, and he passed right out. I'm sorry, Morgana."

"Thank you," Morgna said, genuine in tone. "And thank you for being there for him."

"Anytime." Gwen meant it even though Arthur's dead weight was rendering her lower half immobile.

"Oh! Arthur and Mithian broke up earlier than you or Freya guessed, so I win. I meant to tease him about it."

Gwen looked down at the detective in her lap. She almost told Morgana that he didn't say anything about that, but why would he share his personal life with her? "When you're up to it, we should go shopping. Do you accept payment in Jimmy Choo or Louboutin?"

"I have been having a craving for a new pair of Jimmy Choos," Morgana laughed. "Thank you again, Gwen. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Morgana."

It was growing late, and Gwen finally slipped out from under Arthur's head. She blanketed his jacket over him, and brought the mug back to the kitchen to wash. Finished, put on her coat and went to the door. She watched him for a moment, taking in the image of the detective looking peaceful.

Stepping out, Gwen closed the door gently behind her even though the hardest slam wouldn't rouse Arthur. She stuck her hands in her pockets and walked down the street. It was empty, quiet. The only sound was the click clack of her heels on the sidewalk. The farther she got, she could hear chatter ahead from the corner pub. Hopefully she wouldn't have to stand in the taxi queue for long among the delightfully inebriated.

A car turned the corner and she was blinded by the headlights. A sharp pain ripped through her skull, the stinging white turned black, and she felt herself fall.

A/N: Oooh cliffhanger. I think someone requested a kidnapping once upon a time ago.

I reread the last chapter and that really did go by quick. I'm not very good at being elaborate, but I think this one reads a bit longer than the last? Idk you be the judge.

larasmith: I think all your questions will be answered in the next chapter—The penultimate chapter!

Thanks always for reading and reviewing and especially for sticking around!