I'm a terrible person. I am so sorry I haven't updated. I really should've considering I have chapter 7 and 8 completely done. I am so ashamed; please don't kill me. *cries* *hides face* *cries more*

BTW I'm going to Switzerland from the 7th (tomorrow) to the 17th! So excited! :D

"He's still sleeping?" Pygmy asked in exasperation as soon as she arrived and lain eyes on her brother.

Arthur shook his head. "He fell back about fifteen minutes ago."

The girl sighed, but seemed to accept the fact. "Just goes to show you how horrid my timing is. Hungry?"

"Starving." Arthur laughed, remembering that last time Pygmy asked, he had answered in the same way.

She smirked, as if she too realized the repetition. "In the mood for breakfast?"

Arthur grinned. "Why not?"

Readjusting her shoulder bag, Pygmy led the way out of the hospital and into a "diner," which was strangely small in proportion to everything else in the city. The smell however, was absolute heaven. Arthur ordered a large coffee and the platter that the picture on the "menu" depicted having eggs, ham, sausage, bacon, potatoes fashioned into short strips, and round objects that were called pancakes.

"So my brother finally woke up, huh? How is he?" Pygmy asked once their drinks arrived and she had taken a large gulp of her "apricot smoothie."

"Fine," Arthur answered as he dumped cream and sugar into his black coffee. He looked up when he didn't hear a response, and found Pygmy's eyebrow raised in question. "No, really. Whatever you did to him really sped up his healing."

Pygmy rolled her eyes. "Well, I knew that. I was asking about, you know." She leaned in and whispered, "The magic conversation?"

"Oh." Arthur added another cream. "It went well."

There was a pause. "That's it? 'It went well'?"

"Yeah." He took a sip of his coffee. It was hot and sweet. "We're going to talk about it more when he's awake."

"And you're okay with it? The fact that he's been lying and tricking you for, like, twenty years?"

He frowned. "It's only been seven."

"That is not the point," Pygmy said, flicking her hand.

Their food arrived then, smelling of cooked meats for Arthur and…mush for Pygmy.

"You got porridge?" Arthur asked, unable to stop from wrinkling his nose in disgust.

"Yeah, blueberry oatmeal." She eyed Arthur suspiciously, seeming to understand exactly what the disgust was meant. "You got a problem with servant's food?" she asked pointed.

This was a trap. This was a huge, dangerous trap.

"Oh, I love oatmeal," he replied meekly.

Pygmy nodded. "Good answer, sir."

Arthur was halfway through his breakfast when she said, "Don't think you're off the hook."

"Off what hook?"

Bowl empty, Pygmy placed it aside and stared at Arthur, looking serious. "How do you honestly feel about Merlin's secrets?"

"I… Well, I... Um..." Arthur set his fork down, his appetite suddenly gone. "I'm not really sure. I haven't let myself think about it."

The girl cocked her head. "Why? What are you afraid of?"

"Who says I'm afraid?" Arthur asked, trying to sound offended. It didn't work. He sighed. "I'm not afraid. I'm not anything. I don't feel…anything. Or I don't know what to feel. I don't know." He shrugged, using his fork to push the remaining meats and potatoes around his plate, something he hadn't done since he was a young child. "He told me about his father more. About Balinor." He spoke quietly, eyes still locked on his food. "And he told me that he didn't want to make me choose between him and my father. Between magic and the law…"

Pygmy said nothing. Even when he fell silent, she kept quiet and waited.

"I mean…. I mean, what kind of idiot says that? I didn't want to make you choose. He has no regard for his life! It's like he just wants to be killed! I could've helped him! I could've protected him, but no. Your brother is just such an idiot and–"

"You have a strange way of showing love."

"What?" Arthur looked up. Pygmy sitting across from him, smiled widely. "I have no idea what you mean."

Pygmy rolled her eyes. "Uh-huh, sure you don't. You, King of Camelot–"

"I'm not the king," Arthur tried to interrupt.

"–and Royal Ass of the Past, love my brother, Merlin, and is just too afraid to admit it," she finished, looking triumphant. "You love him and would chose him over your father and that scares you because you love my brother."

Arthur swallowed, unable to form a complete sentence since Pygmy had rendered him speechless.

"Go on, tell me I'm wrong," the woman goaded, leaning back in the seat and crossing her arms. "That's what I thought," she smiled when there was no rebuttal.

"Any desert?" their waitress asked, saving Arthur from trying to answer.

"No, we're fine. Bring out the check please," Pygmy replied, eyes still gleaming at the fabled King of Camelot.

No, no, no; wrong; completely inaccurate; impossible.

The words swirled in Arthur's mind. Because Arthur loving Merlin? It's inconceivable! It's preposterous! It's –

"Completely true, and you know it," Pygmy said, interpreting his thoughts.

Was it by magic? Or was his face just that readable?

"You know there's different types of love, right?" Pygmy lowered her head, her eyes, still held with mirth, softening. "There's no need to have a panic attack or anything. You can love Merlin and not be in love with him."

Arthur blinked. "Of – Of course I know that. Obviously. I…knew that."

Pygmy sighed and patted his hand, muttering something that sounded very close to, "Men." The waitress returned with their check, but before she could place it on the table, Pygmy passed the woman a square, flat box-thing.

"You don't have any siblings, do you?" It sounded less like a question and more like a statement.

"No," he replied, feeling his heart fall at the reminder he killed his mother. It fell even further when he thought of Morgana, the girl who had been like his sister until she was lost to hatred.

Nodding in confirmation, Pygmy continued. "Well I have two, and I'd do anything for the both of them. Sing out of tune, steal something, hell, I'd even murder for them. Merlin and Bateleur are more than family to me. It's… It's like they complete me. Not in the romantic way," she chastised at Arthur's confused look. "In the… In the way a triangle needs three points to make it a triangle. Or in the way a book needs a beginning, middle, and end. Without either of them, it would be more than just losing a brother. I'd be losing a piece of me too. I mean, we can all have separate lives and not see each other for hours or months or years, but we'd still be alive and be able to talk to each other."

"If you three," Arthur cleared his throat, unsure why he was even asking. "If you three are a triangle or a book…what would…Merlin…and I…be?"

Pygmy looked thoughtful. "Those were just metaphors, but… Perhaps the same pair of socks? Or two sides of a coin? Or even the vertical and horizontal parts of a cross?"

Arthur nodded. He watched idly as Pygmy wrote on one of the papers the waitress returned with. It looked a bit like her own name, but squigglier.

"Look, I realize you feel a sense of betrayal over my brother's actions," Pygmy bit her lip, her eyebrows determination. "But he had a good reason to do it. I don't know what it was, but Merlin doesn't hold back unless he's worried about someone. And notice I said someone. You're right about my brother having no sense of self-preservation."

Snorting, Arthur said, "No kidding."

Pygmy stood. "Now come on. Merlin should be awake by now, and if he's not, then we'll wake him up anyway."

"Would that be wise?"

"He can always sleep in my car," Pygmy shrugged. "Besides, mum really wants to see him before he takes off again."

It wasn't until they were waiting patiently to cross the busy street that Arthur said, "I don't really think Merlin will be able to go anywhere anytime soon."

Laughing, Pygmy began walking. "Oh, trust me. As soon as Merlin's out of the hospital, he'll be figuring out ways to get you two back to Camelot."