Notes: Okay, yeah, I managed the last update in about two weeks. Only fair that this one takes three months. Yeah, sorry about that. But I hope you enjoy it anyway, and forgive me when I continue to be seriously sloppy when it comes to update schedules. Later, Peach.

Chapter Fourteen - Interrogations (II)

"Shut up, Morgana," Gwaine hissed under the sound of Gwen explaining Merlin's accidental coffee assault all those months ago, smiling what was probably the least sincere smile ever as he did so. "You can slaughter me for lying to you later, but for God's sake shut up. He doesn't want everyone to know."

Morgana heard his gaze for a long moment, her expression threatening violence of the worst kind, cruel and calculating and far more beautiful than should be allowed, fingernails carving grooves into his arm. Then she smiled, and that was even worse.

"Merlin," she called, letting go of Gwaine, and it was more the look of worry on Merlin's face that made Gwaine flinch, rather than the blood welling in the half-moon cuts on his arm. "Aren't you supposed to be getting Arthur another drink? I'm sure we can wait to laugh at your appalling clumsiness until you get back."

X

He wasn't actually expecting Merlin to come home with him that night, even though he'd said he would. That was before Gwen spilled the beans, and, honestly, Gwaine figured Merlin would leave with Morgana and attempt to explain the whole shebang to her.

He didn't, though; within seconds of Gwaine entering his home, Merlin was there, banging on the door until Gwaine put down the kettle and let him in.

"Don't," Merlin said, the door still open behind him, wrapping himself around Gwaine, seeming to have way more pairs of arms than the average person as he did so. "Please, Gwaine. Please don't."

"Hey," Gwaine answered softly, taking Merlin with him as he stepped backwards to shut the door. "I'm here, Merlin. I'm not going anywhere."

"You don't know that," Merlin said, pressing the words into Gwaine's neck, still holding way too fucking tightly. "You don't."

Gwaine ran his hands up and down Merlin's back, attempting to calm him, preferably before he bruised too badly. "You can't have thought this would last forever," he said. "Your friends were always going to know, Merlin, and do you really think I'm unhappy about Morgana finding out?"

"You don't understand."

"Then tell me. I'm not psychic, Merlin," Gwaine made an effort to soften his voice, even as he placed a hand on each of Merlin's shoulders and held him still as he stepped backwards, out of Merlin's arms. "I can't understand anything if you don't tell me." He wasn't expecting an answer, not really, but it was still a tad disappointing not to get one.

"I'm sorry, Merlin," Gwaine said after a moment. "I'm sorry I'm not more unhappy about this, but I am not going to leave you just because your friends might not like me dating you."

"I want to believe you," Merlin said. "You have no idea how much."

Gwaine hugged him again, pretty sure it wasn't going to do damn bit of good. Merlin might say he wanted to believe him, might even be telling the truth when he said it, but the only thing that was going to convince him Gwaine was there to stay was Gwaine staying, and the only way to show that was with time. "I was just going to make a drink," he said, squeezing Merlin tightly before letting him go. "You want something?"

"Tea, please," Merlin answered, smiling in that I'm okay, really, so please don't ask me way that only ever happened when someone was a long way from okay. "Bring it upstairs with you?"

X

"So what're you going to do?" Leon asks, when she's finished describing her oh-so-exciting night out and he's done lamenting the fact that the only evening he's missed in months is the one where something interesting finally happens.

Morgana shrugs, mostly because she doesn't know. She loves Merlin, more than she has ever loved another human being in her life, more than she ever will love another human being in her life, since she doesn't plan on having children, and after all the crap of the last few years, she needs Merlin to be happy just as much as she needs him to be safe.

And Gwaine...she might have suggested he date Merlin, but it was just for fun, just for Merlin to get out and live a little, live better than the life he's been living since Freya died. But the way he'd told her to keep quiet at the pub, the intensity of it, that spoke of something more than just fun, and Morgana doesn't know what to think of that.

"I don't know," she says softly, dropping the comb she's trying to drag through the knots in her hair on her dressing table and turning around on her stool. It'll be a bitch to finish brushing her hair tomorrow, when it's dry and the tangles are cemented in, but she can't be bothered tonight. Tonight, selfish as it is, she just wants to forget. "Talk to Merlin, I guess," she adds, her gaze holding Leon's as she walks towards his perch at the foot of their bed.

"I love you," Leon says, his arms opening for her as she approaches. His fingers stroke through her wet hair when she gets there, her own arms closing around him, her face pressed to his neck, breathing in the smell of him, home and peace and security, the rock she's relied on every single time things have been rough. "Stop worrying, Morgana. We'll deal with Merlin and Gwaine tomorrow."

He kisses her then, mouth soft against her own, lips parting when she presses forward, and Morgana has to smile, has to hold him closer. "I love you, too," she says, marvelling as ever that he always knows just what to say.

X

Gwaine used his elbow to open the bedroom door, a mug in each hand, the heat of the tea inside seeping through to not quite burn his fingers, then just paused, because what were burnt fingertips compared to a view like this one?

The light was off, quilt on his bed pushed back, clothes scattered across the floor, and there was Merlin, his back shining pale in the moonlight. He never shut the curtains, not when he was the first one upstairs, and Gwaine usually had more interesting things to think about when he joined him.

"Hey," Merlin said after a moment of Gwaine standing and staring, turning his head to one side so the words weren't lost in the pillow. "I'm not here just for you to gawk at, you know," he continued, then lowered his voice, and his next words Gwaine was fairly sure he wasn't meant to catch at all, "Last night and all that. Might as well remember it."

"Only the last if you want it to be," Gwaine answered, but words weren't going to convince anyone. Actions, on the other hand, and if this was what Merlin wanted...well, where Gwaine was concerned, Merlin was always going to get what he wanted, particularly when what he wanted was this.

The tea was long past cold before either of them got around to drinking it, but then Gwaine wasn't exactly complaining, was he?

X

Merlin was awake long before Gwaine, of that he had no doubt. He'd been awake long after him, too, and each time Gwaine woke up during the night Merlin was sitting up next to him, the light on and a book open in his hands, the pages never turning.

"Did you sleep at all?" Gwaine asked, curling onto his side facing Merlin, because what fun was good morning?

Merlin shrugged, as much as shrugging was possibly with his shoulders pressed to the headboard. "Plenty, thanks," he said quietly, although the shadows under his eyes suggested otherwise, as did the almost palpable nervousness he was giving off. "Don't suppose you want to stay here all day, do you?"

"Want to, yeah," Gwaine said, "but I don't think it'll help any. Morgana knows where I live."

"Of course she does," Merlin said, a wan smile on his face, slumping further down and shuffling closer to Gwaine, so close that Gwaine almost had to hold him. "Last night must be the first time in an eternity she's had to face the fact that she doesn't know everything."

Gwaine had to grin at the thought, even if that probably wasn't what Merlin wanted from him. "To hell with Morgana," he said, pressing his mouth to Merlin's forehead. "She can say what she likes, but it ain't that easy to get rid of me." He didn't have enough time to convince Merlin, though, probably wasn't even such a thing as enough time, so Gwaine just kissed Merlin again, this time on the mouth, then pulled away in order to get out of bed. "Come on, you fool. You shower first, and I'll cook us breakfast."

Merlin was still there, huddled under the quilt, when Gwaine left the room, but by the time the kettle had boiled and Gwaine had a pan heating on the stove, the shower was running, which, he supposed, was better than it could have been.

X

"Gwen," Morgana says, breezing into the coffee shop, "Be a dear and let Merlin have a long lunch, would you? I need to borrow him."

Gwen stares at her, just a little exasperated, then rolls her eyes, almost amused. "Yes, fine, whatever. It's not like I'm trying to run a business here, you know. It'd be far easier if you didn't keep stealing my employees."

"I wouldn't if it wasn't important," Morgana promises. "You know that, Gwen."

"I know you think it's important, yes," Gwen answers, incredibly serious, leaning her arms on the counter. "But that isn't the same as it actually being important, and you need to learn that, Morgana."

"You're wrong, Gwen," Morgana says, feeling saddened, hurt, possibly even a little betrayed that she has to say it. It's Merlin, and it will always be important that Merlin is okay and, yeah, she's not exactly telling Gwen why it's important but that doesn't mean it isn't. "This matters."

"But he's happy, Morgana. You have to have seen it. He's happier than he's been in years. Don't spoil it by trying to find out why."

There is so much Morgana could say to that, so much she wants to say. She knows why Merlin is happy, she could say, knows who and what and why, and she could tell Gwen that she doesn't want to spoil it, she just wants to know how long Merlin thinks it's going to last. She won't say it, thought, because Gwaine asked her not to for Merlin's sake, and she can't tell anyone until she finds out why Merlin wants it kept a secret.

"Just tell him I'm here, please," she says instead. "He'll be expecting me anyway."

X

Even though Morgana has the entirety of this conversation laid out in her head, scripted and ready to go, even though she's checked it over and over again as they've walked from the cafe to a park about five minutes away, it's gone when Merlin sits down next to her on a bench, his desperation not to have this conversation detectable with almost every sense. She's going to start with asking him what's going on, why Merlin didn't tell her, whether he really thinks it's a good idea, if it's going to last much longer, and finally, maybe, she'll get to things that matter less.

But Merlin looks from her to the sandwich packet unopened in his lap, the coffee cup beside him, both paid for by Morgana, looks at her like she's the most terrifying thing he's ever seen in his life and the food she's giving him is undoubtedly poisoned, and only four words come to mind, words that under her vanished plan she figured probably weren't worth asking.

"Do you love him?"

From the way Merlin gawps at her, his gaze far more direct now, he knows she never meant to ask that, and Morgana thinks he was probably prepared for her original conversation, thinks he knows her well enough to have planned for her plan. It's a little comforting how much this one throws him, comforting that Merlin is as unprepared for this as Morgana is.

"I don't know, Morgana," he says, and maybe his surprise is lending him the honesty he seems to have been lacking of late because it certainly sounds like he's speaking the truth. "It's not...I mean, I'm not...I don't know. Not yet."

No, Morgana thinks, I really don't know either, and damn Gwen for ruining all her plans with her little 'let him be happy' speech. She doesn't know what to say now that she's started down this track, isn't sure how to get back to making sure Merlin is okay and is going to stay okay for a long, long time. "I see," she says quietly, lifting her cup of coffee and taking a sip.

"Does it matter?" Merlin asks after a minute of silence, a minute of Morgana drinking and him staring at her. "Would it make a difference if I'd said yes?"

Morgana smiles at him, just smiles, and Arthur has yelled at her so many times for that facial expression, and for her using it instead of words. He's accused her of trying to be mysterious, an enigma to be cracked, and Morgana has let him because to say no, I smile like this when I have no idea what the question you're asking me means is more than her pride will let her admit to.

Merlin doesn't like the smile any more than Arthur does, she knows that, but Morgana needs the silence to get her thoughts back to where they started out, and this not knowing is more than she can admit to with Merlin, too. How is she supposed to help hold him together if he ever realises how much she doesn't understand either?

"You lied," she says, the coffee cup in her hand almost empty by now. Merlin's is still untouched, must be starting to go cold, and if Morgana has much heart as other people, as Gwen and Leon and Lancelot, she'd tell him to drink up, eat up, and maybe give up this entire conversation, but she can't. It's difficult, but she has to, and she will. She has to ask the questions the others won't, because ignoring everything won't do any good. "You both lied."

Merlin slumps lower, hunches his shoulders, stares at the floor like he's on the verge of breaking. "I wasn't planning to," he says, his hands dangling between his knees, fingers curling into fists and uncurling, over and over again. "I was just going to go out with him once, and then never call. There was never going to be any need to lie to you."

This isn't a surprise, of course it isn't, because as much as she loves Merlin she isn't blind and she isn't stupid, and Merlin's heart might once have been bigger than anyone's she's ever met, might still be, but it's a whole lot harder to get into it now. So much of Merlin died when Freya did, so little was left behind, and even through all Morgana's attempts to set Merlin up with Gwaine she never thought that it'd be anything more than what Merlin had planned. "What changed?" She asks, because it's Gwaine, irresponsible, reckless, easy Gwaine, and how can he be the one who got through to Merlin, who actually made an impact?

"I made a mistake," he tells her. "I picked someone who wanted more."

"Gwaine? Really?" Her disbelief is audible, too audible, but then it's pretty obvious in the words alone, no need for tone to emphasise it. She should have stopped them, she should, but it's too late to do anything about that now, and she might as well wait for Merlin's answer, even if it's just a shrug.

"I wasn't expecting it either," he says, quiet enough that Morgana has to lean in to hear him. "But then you knew him already, and you knew what he was like, and I wasn't ready for it to end." And then he looks at her with all the intensity of the old Merlin, all the strength and fire he's been missing, even on the most good of good days, and grips her hand in his. "I made him lie to you. The only person to blame is me."

"I know that, Merlin," she says. "What I don't know is why."

"Because once you knew, you'd tell him. Or Gwen would, or Arthur, and I didn't want him to know. I wanted him to stay too much for that."

Morgana doesn't need to ask what Merlin thinks they'd tell Gwaine, not when there is only one thing Merlin would worry about him finding out. "Maybe Gwaine deserves more credit than that," she says, as gently as she can, and it's a surprise that she's even thinking the words, let alone saying them. But Gwaine has talked so much about Merlin over the last few months, was so unhappy when the two of them seemed likely to break up (and oh, how much more sense that week makes now, the pair of them both so different from normal, so much brighter afterwards, and the evening Merlin just wasn't there), seems to have gone along with all Merlin's deceptions without complaint, and through all of it not even hinting that his secret someone was someone she knew. If Gwaine didn't care, he'd have told them, and that would have been that, the end.

"I think you can tell him, Merlin," she says. "He deserves to know, and I really don't think he's going to go anywhere just because of this."

"I know," Merlin says, his fingers still curled around her own, not tight enough to hurt now but still there, still holding on like she's the only thing keeping him there. "I'm just not ready for things to change."

"Do you love him?" She asks again, because she can't think of any other explanation.

Merlin smiles at her, brighter than the sun, and lets go, ripping into the sandwich package resting on his knees. "Ask me again tomorrow," he says. "Ask me then."

X

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Leon asked, letting himself into Gwaine's office – without knocking, or anything else close to his usual good manners – and locking the door behind him.

Well, Gwaine thought, that answered the question about whether Morgana was going to tell him, and possibly some of his musings about why Merlin was so wary about letting people know about them. "I was trying to work out why our orders of meat have pretty much doubled these last few months. Was there something you wanted?"

"Don't be a smart arse, Gwaine, it doesn't suit you."

"Liar, it suits me perfectly. Now, do you have a point, or are you going to piss off?" So yeah, that was maybe uncalled for, but having six foot whatever (in the interest of saving his ego, Gwaine had done his best to avoid learning exactly how tall Leon was) of bloke shouting at him was hardly a politeness inducing occasion.

"Merlin. What the fuck are you doing with Merlin?"

"Do you actually want me to answer that question?" Gwaine replied, figuring he might as well do his absolute best to piss him off, if only because it might give Leon something other than Merlin to yell at him over. "Because I can, if you want details."

Leon sighed the sigh of the utterly exasperated, sitting himself opposite Gwaine and dragging a hand through his hair. "This isn't a laughing matter, Gwaine. You're messing with things you don't understand, and someone is going to get hurt. Chances are, that someone won't be you."

Actually, Gwaine was pretty sure it would be, given all Merlin's secrets and evasions and whatever the hell it was that had Leon so angry at him. But even so, it was his choice, and Merlin's choice, and Gwaine had promised him that other people's opinions of them weren't going to change anything. "Has it occurred to you that we're both grown adults? Who are you to decide what Merlin does?"

"We're people who care," Leon answered, stubborn as fuck, his expression quite clearly suggesting he wasn't willing to give an inch.

"Using the royal we, are you? In case you haven't noticed, you're the only person who seems to think my relationship with Merlin is your business." And yeah, Gwaine had been expecting hostility, mostly because Merlin was so sure there was going to be some, but he was expecting it to come from Morgana; it wasn't like Leon was known for having a short temper, and all the times Gwaine had heard raised voices coming from the kitchen the only voice actually raised had been Morgana's. He was expecting Morgana to be the one here yelling at him. That she wasn't probably only made things worse, because it meant she'd be after Merlin instead.

"You're damn right it's my business, since I'm one of the many people who'll have to pick up whatever pieces are left of Merlin when you inevitably screw him over."

"When I what?" Gwaine found himself saying, all indignation and fierce, angry pride.

"Don't act all surprised," Leon said, and it was the utterly calm, matter of fact tone to his voice that was the most offensive thing about it. "You know exactly what you're like. Commitment is pretty much a foreign concept to you."

Well, that was just...okay, fine, it maybe was called for, because Gwaine didn't have a great track record with relationships. But it was different, Merlin was different, and surely the amount of time they'd been together proved that. "It's been months. Feels kind of like commitment to me."

"And maybe it would be, if you knew anything about him," Leon argued, nothing close to compassion on his face or in his posture. "But you don't, and when you do you'll decide whatever you have with Merlin is far too much effort to maintain. You'll drop him like he means nothing to you, rather than deal with the fact that life isn't meant to be easy."

"You think Merlin's made things easy?" Gwaine snapped, lurching to his feet and trying not to feel intimidated when Leon copied him. "You think I like that he lies to everyone about me, or that he tells me absolutely fucking nothing? You think it's easy?"

"I think you are."

Right. That was enough. "We're done here," Gwaine said, storming around Leon and yanking the door open.

"We are not," Leon answered, not making a single move towards the door. "End this now, before he cares enough about you for it to hurt."

"No, we're done here," Gwaine repeated, determined to make himself absolutely clear. "Go home, Leon. You're taking a week of holiday, and don't come back until you're willing to stop being a dick."

Leon stared at him, then turned on his heel and walked out, without a word of further argument. The bastard didn't even have the bad manners to slam the door behind him, just shut it in a quiet, normal fashion.

It made Gwaine feel the tiniest bit immature for throwing a paperweight at the door after him. Then again, it also made him feel better, so that was justification enough.

X

Gwaine stayed at his desk for what may well have been hours, for all he knew, staring at the fragments of glass by the door. What was so bad, he wondered, that Leon thought he'd walk when he found it out rather than sticking with Merlin. What was so awful that he'd risk his job to argue for it, that he wouldn't even consider the possibility that Gwaine could find out and still want to stick around?

There were things he could think of, of course, things that would be deal-breakers, no questions asked, just over and done. But that Merlin could be capable of them, mentally or physically, was too absurd to contemplate. It wasn't happening, not a chance in hell, and no, Gwaine didn't believe it. He wasn't going to walk, however difficult Merlin's secrets made things, however difficult finding them out made things, and anyone who couldn't deal with that fact could just fuck the hell off.

Much as Leon had done, actually, and, it being nearly lunchtime, Gwaine had some explaining to do. And then, he thought, stepping over the remnants of the paperweight in front of the door, probably some clearing up.

"Right, you lot," he said, shutting the kitchen door once he was inside, every pair of eyes on him. "Leon is otherwise occupied for the foreseeable future. Who's the best cook?"

It wasn't an ideal solution, not by a long way, but it was pretty much the only one he had.

"Okay," he continued, once all the fake modesty and bullshit denials were done with, rolling his sleeves up as he walked over to the sink to scrub his hands clean, then looking at the oh-so-fortunate temporary (God, he hoped it was going to be temporary, and Leon would pull his head out of his arse and come back again soon, because looking for a replacement would be a bitch) boss of his kitchen. "What can I do to help?"

X

"Shouldn't you be at work?" Morgana asks, getting home to find Leon perched on the edge of the sofa. It's a lovely surprise, it really is, because she so rarely gets to spend the evening with him; it's a great job he's got, particularly after all the rubbish ones he's had after getting his culinary qualifications, but he's so bloody busy, and sometimes she misses him. It's why she spends so much time there, not that she'll ever say it, but Leon knows anyway and no one else needs to.

Leon looks up at her, his expression bleaker than the bleakest winter morning. "I don't have a job to be at," he says, grey and grim. "Gwaine fired me."

Oh, Morgana thinks, and that really wasn't something she was expecting. I was ill, that was more along the lines of what she'd thought, or maybe Gwaine gave me the evening off for being such a wonderful, supportive friend, if she was being particularly optimistic-slash-insane.

"No!" she says. "Oh, that bastard. After I stuck up for him today, as well. I'm bloody well going to kill him."

Leon just pales.

X

It should be worrying, getting home and finding someone in his house. Anyone sensible would be concerned, at the very least, but then sensible wasn't something Gwaine'd ever claimed to be.

"That you, Merlin?" he called, although it was pretty much a dumb question, since the humming coming from the direction of the kitchen had a tunelessness to it Gwaine recognised.

"Nope," Merlin's voice answered. "It's a burglar."

Gwaine laughed, but his heart wasn't really in it, not after the day he'd had. "At least do me the courtesy of pouring me a beer before you rob me blind, Mr Burglar?" he joked, but his heart wasn't anywhere near being close to that one, either.

Merlin mumbled something then, quiet and almost scared, Gwaine thought, and it sounded an awful lot like, "Yeah, you might need it." Which it may well have been, but Gwaine wasn't going to consider that, wasn't going to let it be that, because his day had been shitty enough without anything more happening.

Sure enough, though, there was an open bottle and a glass on the table in the kitchen when Gwaine got there, a bottle, a glass, and Merlin looking like a puppy waiting to be kicked.

"I need to tell you something," he said, perching on the counter and swinging his legs back and forth, eyes on his feet and not Gwaine. "You might want to sit down."

"How did you get in here?" Gwaine answered, because he might have only had to deal with Leon today but clearly, that meant Merlin had had to face Morgana. There was no chance in hell Gwaine was going to get dumped, not when he'd already as good as fired his friend in order to avoid that.

"Oh," Merlin said, like it hadn't even occurred to him that Gwaine might wonder. "Morgana used to date a locksmith."

Right, because that made perfect sense. "So you had her break into my house in broad daylight. At least tell me you came in through the back door?"

"I came in through the back door?" Merlin answered, in a perfectly apparent this is bullshit tone, then shook it off. "Look, this is sort of important. We need to talk."

Gwaine sank then, taking the bottle with him, back against the fridge and the cool of the kitchen tiles leaching through his jeans to his skin. "Please," he said, not even able to muster the energy to care how much it sounded like begging. "Please, Merlin, not tonight. However good Morgana's arguments for you leaving me were, they'll wait. Let me think that we're alright for tonight, yeah?"

He didn't look up, eyes fixed on the bottle in his hands, fingers picking at the label piece by piece. It was a habit his mam had spent years trying to break him of when he was younger, fed up of the thousands of jars and bottles with half-shredded labels in the house when he was a kid, but anxiety always brought it back. Please, he wanted to say, please and Merlin and please again, but he had some pride, or could at least pretend he did.

"Oh," Merlin said, quiet and kind. "Hey, no, that's not it. Morgana was surprisingly okay with it, actually. I'm not ending this." He paused, and the next thing Gwaine heard was his feet hitting the tiles as he hopped down from the counter, then padding across the room to sit on the floor next to him, resting a hand on Gwaine's knee. "I'm not breaking up with you," he repeated, "and, actually, after how adamant you were that what everyone else thought didn't matter, I'm a little surprised you thought that might be it."

"Yeah, well, while you had Morgana being 'surprisingly okay with it', I had Leon storming into my office and ordering me to dump you before you cared enough about me that it would hurt. Because, apparently, I'm not going to be able to deal with finding out all the shit that you're keeping secret."

"He didn't," Merlin murmured, his tone that of someone who believed entirely what he was hearing but probably felt obliged to deny it anyway. "That...I'm going to kill him, I really am."

Gwaine managed a laugh at that, if only because the image of Merlin trying to take on Leon was so utterly absurd. Then again, the scary protectiveness that all Merlin's friends seemed to have going on probably meant that Leon would just let him. "Leave it a few days, yeah? It'd hardly be fair to murder him the same day he lost his job, would it?" He looked up then, up from the floor and the bottle and the tiny scrunched up bits of paper littering his legs and wedged under his nails, and smiled, sort of hopelessly, but then wasn't that him all over?

"Good," Merlin said, meeting his eyes. "I'll still kill him, but not just yet."

He smiled, stood up, and offered Gwaine his hand. "Drink up," he said. "We can talk tomorrow."

Gwaine was halfway to his feet, wrist clasped in Merlin's hand, Merlin's wrist clasped in his, ready to drain the dregs of the bottle in his other hand, then kiss Merlin, see if they could manage something slightly less frantic than last night, now that they were both certain they were at least going to last the week. Halfway there, and then came the hammering on the door, someone battering at it almost hard enough to break it down.

"I don't suppose you're expecting a late night visitor, are you?" Merlin asked, frowning even as he joked.

Gwaine shrugged, which was sort of a rubbish answer, but he didn't have much idea who it might be anyway. "Ignore them and hope they go away?" he suggested, plonking the empty bottle down on the counter beside him and using the grip Merlin still on him to pull him in.

Merlin smiled down at him, soft and agreeable. "Bed?"

"Bed," Gwaine agreed, and that, really, was the best thing he'd heard all day.

Except the hammering wasn't bloody going away, was it, nor was the person doing it, and wasn't that just bloody perfect.

"Oi, you fuckers!" Morgana yelled from outside. "I've already broken in once today, don't make me have to do it again!"

Merlin was gone from his arms before Gwaine knew what was happening, down the hall from the kitchen to the front door, turning the key and opening the door before Gwaine had the chance to suggest that maybe letting the crazy yelling person into his home wasn't the smartest thing they could do. "'Gana?" Merlin asked. "What's up?"

Morgana stared past Merlin, or around him, maybe, her icy, dead, terrifying eyes boring straight into Gwaine's. "I'm staying here for a few nights," she said, not a request or a plea or anything even remotely like a question.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Me stay here," she said slowly, pointing to herself, then at Gwaine. "You get bag from car. I'm sorry, I don't know how to convey that in any fewer syllables."

"Nope," Gwaine answered. "No, no way, not happening, go home, sorry, way too many people here already."

"No," she said, pushing past Merlin into the house.

And then, just to make Gwaine's day complete, she burst into tears, noisy, nasty, snotty tears, uglier than anyone as beautiful as her had any right to be crying, stumbling against Merlin and clinging to him like a limpet.

"We broke up," she sobbed, although how Gwaine managed to make out words when her face was smooshed against Merlin's chest he'd never know. "We broke up and it's your fault, Gwaine, so go get my bags from the car and find me somewhere to sleep, now."

Funnily enough, he wasn't quite brave enough to refuse.