Disclaimer: Don't own Merlin.

Warnings: Bit o' language, hospitals, angst, discussion of suicide

A/N: I'm so sorry again for the delay. As I mentioned in the end note to the last chapter, it was brought to my attention that the way I depicted the suicide scene was problematic. I had a bit of a freak out and couldn't figure out what to do, hence the delay. But I decided to leave the scene as it is, with the addition of that final sentence and hope it can be read as an example of artistic license and not as scientific fact.

Ultimately this is a story, and while I have tried to make some bits realistic, other bits are pure melodrama/contrivance (Merlin overhearing that conversation, anyone?). So it's not realism and I hope no-one takes it as such. But I want to deeply apologise to anyone who was distressed or felt triggered, it was not my intention.

Thank you so so much to April29Roses, Alicia Roth, jessieklove, wholocked12, FrancesGamble-too, Sarrasponda, bubzchoc, WhatIsThisNormalYouSpeakOf, mersan123, Aerist, LaRiEnGuBlEr, Wisegirl6, FanfictionHopper, lovePEOPLEandCOWBOY, Guest, ggff-1000, Jayfire, and I Am SuperWhoMerVengLocked. Your responses were incredibly helpful and I really love you all!

Anyway, massive author's note aside, I really hope you enjoy this final chapter. It's not a perfect ending and I'm sure there might be things missing you wanted to see resolved, or ways you might have wanted it to be different but I hope you can enjoy it for what it is :)

~III~

Drip. Drip.

Those stripped

twigs of his fingers.

Ivy torsions in the wrist.

Two spikes bandaged

to drip in his veins.

It wasn't any of them who found Merlin in the end. It was a homeless man who broke into the park to take shelter from the rain. He was the one to find the shaking, vomiting boy underneath the oak tree. He was the one to see the vodka bottle and the empty pill packets scattered around. He was the one to take the boy's phone and call the ambulance.

Arthur doesn't find all of this out until later. He learns it from a nurse, who heard it from the paramedic who arrived on the scene. The homeless man declined to ride to the hospital and didn't provide a name. So Arthur has no way of tracking him down to say all the things he wants to say in his undying, eternal gratitude.

But he's not aware of any of this when Hunith first calls him. All he knows is that Merlin is in hospital and Hunith doesn't know why yet.

His car's still parked at Merlin's house, much too far away, so he simply runs to the hospital, putting everything he has into getting there as fast as possible.

Hunith's already pacing the waiting room when he arrives and they embrace briefly, holding each other tightly.

"Where is he? What happened? Is he okay?" Arthur gasps out desperately.

Hunith doesn't know. They're working on Merlin right now and no-one's allowed in. He understands why but it still enrages him; every fibre of his being is itching to storm into the room and see for himself, to check that Merlin is still here, still breathing, still alive…

But he can't. So they wait. A nurse comes out every so often to update them on the progress. The second time, they beg her to tell them what happened.

She's very gentle when she says it seems Merlin has overdosed on paracetamol.

"On purpose?" Hunith says, voice rising in hysteria. "On purpose?"

"I'm afraid we don't know for sure yet," the nurse says sympathetically.

Which Arthur knows is a lie of course, because paracetamol isn't like heroin, you don't accidentally take enough to overdose.

You only do it when you want to die.

The realisation hits Arthur like a sledgehammer to the stomach and he almost loses his footing as his knees go weak.

Hunith's clearly come to the same conclusion as him because there's a moment's silence and then she throws up. Not moving at all, not even turning her head to the side, she just vomits all over herself.

"Oh dear," the nurse says, springing straight into action. "Let's get you cleaned up."

Arthur watches helplessly as the nurse leads Hunith away. He wants to follow but he feels rooted to the spot, like he'll fall the minute he tries to move.

He stays like that for a while and then he feels a strong arm around his shoulders, and lets himself be steered to sit on one of the plastic chairs.

"Let's get you sat down, son," a calm voice says and he looks up to see a porter, about fifty years old, with a kind, crinkly face.

"You stay put and I'll get you a hot drink," the man says and walks over to the machine in the corner. He returns with a plastic cup of tea.

"Strong and sweet. Get that down you."

He pushes the drink into Arthur's unresisting hand, and Arthur takes a sip. It's much more sugary than he normally likes it but he drinks it obediently. If he does what he's told, if he just sits there and prays with every part of him, then surely Merlin will be alright…

"Better?" the porter asks when he's drained the cup.

Arthur nods. He does feel slightly less shaky, less likely to pass out.

"My friend-" he says and then stops, because his voice sounds all funny. He clears his throat and tries again. "My friend, he-"

But he can't get the rest of the sentence out.

"In there, is he?" the man says, gesturing towards the rooms. "They'll be taking good care of him. I may be biased, but I like to think we've got the best doctors in the country here."

Arthur nods, and the porter squeezes his shoulder.

"Got to get back to work. Get yourself another drink if you feel wobbly. I'm sure someone'll be along to update you as soon as they can."

He smiles again and walks off. Then Arthur's on his own again.

It seems like an age before the nurse from before returns, Hunith beside her; now wearing a blue scrub top.

"She's okay," the nurse says to Arthur. "Just a bit of a shock."

The colour has completely drained out of Hunith's face, her eyes look like black hollows set against her whey skin.

"Any news on…" Arthur asks, words failing him again.

"I'll go and find out for you," the nurse says kindly, and takes off.

Arthur helps Hunith into a seat, and offers her a drink, which she declines.

They sit, hand in hand.

Then the doctor comes.

"Mrs Emrys?" she says and Hunith stands, Arthur right behind her.

"I'm happy to report your son's condition has stabilised."

Arthur can't quite take it in.

"He's out of the woods for tonight, but I'm afraid we won't know if he's sustained any permanent damage to his liver for at least twenty four hours. We'll also have to run more tests on-"

Hunith's interrupts, her voice high.

"But he's- he's not going to-"

"No, he's not going to die," the doctor says reassuringly.

This time Arthur's legs really do give out and he sits back down with a thump.

He's never felt relief like this before, coursing through every vein and artery, his whole body trembling with the power of it.

Merlin's alive. He's not going to die. He's alive.

"Can we see him?" Hunith says, her voice sounding a little stronger.

"I'm afraid only you can. Family only right now," the doctor says, casting a sympathetic look at Arthur.

He nods and tries not to mind. He's not even sure he's emotionally ready to see Merlin right now.

But at the same time he longs to, not sure he can believe what the doctor says until he sees Merlin with his own two eyes.

It must show on his face, because after the doctor's taken Hunith, she returns.

"I'm afraid I can't break the rules and let you in. But if you want a very quick look through the window, I think I can turn a blind eye."

Arthur tries to smile in gratitude, although he's not sure the muscles in his face are working properly.

He follows her down a corridor till they reach a room right on the end. The blinds to the windows are open and he approaches slowly.

He's scared of what he's about to see.

But when he peeps through the window, it's not as bad as he thought. Hunith is sat by the bed, her back to him, and lying next to her is…

He looks white. Except for a bruise on the side of his temple, just under his hairline. Other than that, he could almost be sleeping, except for the tubes in his nose, the IV spidering from his arm.

His eyes are closed but Arthur can just about make out the slow up and down of his chest.

And he's crying now, for the first time since he arrived at the hospital, tears streaming down his face.

Merlin tried to kill himself.

He hated life so much he wanted to die.

The tears have turned to sobs, his whole body is shaking, and he's only dimly aware of the doctor leading him away, back to the waiting room. Someone takes his mobile from his pocket, makes a call. He doesn't look up, doesn't say anything.

The world only comes back into focus when his father is standing there in front of him, and Arthur walks right into his outstretched arms, clinging to him like a child.

Mulched like leafmould,

mushroom-breathed, shit smelling,

he's a question: Can

you love this?

Can you sit

and watch the hours dissolving

in the drip

of Parvolax and glucose

clear as rinsings from bare twig tips

when the downpour's gone?

Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, Arthur drives to the retreat after work to visit Merlin.

He managed to scrape the required grades at A-Level to get into his chosen university, but he defers his place for a year. He asks Uther for an internship at Pendragon Industries instead. It takes a while to talk his father round but Arthur manages to persuade him on the grounds that a year of first hand practical experience could only be a boon to his Business degree.

They both know that's not why he wants to defer, but Uther is gracious enough to pretend otherwise.

He works the early shift, from 8 till 4.30, so he can drive to the retreat in time for visiting hours from 5 till 7. The work is mainly dull, filing and envelope stuffing and data entry, but Uther promises he'll be given more responsibility soon.

Arthur doesn't mind. Work is not his priority right now.

Some days when he arrives at the centre, Merlin is sat in a chair reading, or on a computer in the rec room. Those are the good days, when they can go for a walk together or play Xbox or talk about Arthur's evil line manager and how he's running him ragged.

Then there are the bad days, when Merlin won't get out of bed and spends the visit staring out of the window as though Arthur isn't there. Or when he's sat in the garden, fists clenched as he tears up pieces of grass and spits insults at Arthur for leaving him locked up here to be force fed and head shrunk.

Arthur hates those days, though not as much as he hates the rare occasions when he finds Merlin crying, great big sobs wracking his body like he's unable to stop, like he never will.

On the silent days he can chat away to Merlin like nothing's wrong, almost a re-tread of their estranged period at school. On the angry days, he can stand firm and take the insults, never disagreeing or arguing back, until Merlin wears himself out and ends up apologising, guilt ridden and tired.

But on the crying days he can only hold Merlin, rub his back or pull him into an embrace and let him weep inconsolably into Arthur's shoulder. Those days break his heart.

Their other friends come by too. They're all around for the summer, before September comes and their new lives begin. Gwaine ends up at Manchester Met, which isn't too far, and he drives to see Merlin most weekends. Freya takes a baking apprenticeship one town over and she can visit quite often. Gwen and Lance both chose to go to Edinburgh, the furthest afield of all of them, but they faithfully travel down together every second weekend.

Gwaine finds it the hardest, Arthur thinks. His main defence in life is humour but there's not much call for that around Merlin anymore. If Merlin's in a good mood, Gwaine's shenanigans can perk him right up. But when Merlin's in a bad mood, Gwaine doesn't know what to do. Arthur watches him stand at the side of the bed or the chair or the garden bench, twisting his hands together, a lost expression on his face.

Arthur tells him it's okay to feel helpless but Gwaine looks ashamed all the same.

Gwen and Freya are much better, both a little more able to take it in their stride. Gwen is especially good when Merlin's angry, sitting next to him and talking to him in a low soothing voice until the tension dissolves from his body. Freya comes the most often after Arthur and makes herself a favourite among the staff by bringing along the fruits of her baking labours – mainly delicious cakes and pies that she happily shares. It's a bit of an ironic boon in a treatment centre for eating disorders, but sometimes even Merlin will try a corner of a biscuit or half a fairy bun.

The real surprise is Lance though. Of all of them, including Arthur, Lance is the one who has the most calming effect on Merlin. He doesn't even have to talk much; he seems to exude a kind of peacefulness that Merlin somehow responds to. Once, on one of Merlin's crying days, Arthur has to leave the room for some fresh air, and when he comes back ten minutes later Merlin's tucked into the curve of Lance's arm and he's actually smiling.

Arthur could almost be jealous of Lance's way with Merlin, but how could he ever be jealous of something that makes Merlin feel better?

Hunith tends to visit on alternative days to Arthur, so that they don't overwhelm Merlin but he goes to her house about once a week to cook her dinner. She's exhausted, with no choice but to keep working when she'd clearly rather been spending more time with her son. But she's got the same steely resolve that he thinks must have got her through years of struggle as a single parent with an absent husband, and she believes in Merlin's recovery.

Arthur does too, some days.

The eating is certainly better. Merlin still looks a long way from well, but his bones are no longer painfully jutting from his skin, his face has lost that shrunken, emaciated look. The specialists are working with him on his diet, trying to provide him with meals he likes, building them up every week. Arthur knows that there's no room for cheating here, a fact that infuriates Merlin sometimes when he's ranting about the counsellors.

He's still too thin but he's slowly gaining weight, and Arthur knows his health isn't currently at risk.

He also knows Merlin can't stay in the retreat forever, and who's to stop him losing it all again when he gets out?

But there's no point in thinking like that. He's seeing a counsellor himself, something Morgana recommended when she came home for the summer holidays. For the first time in a long time, they've been able to talk to each other the way they did when they were younger. Morgana sat and listened as Arthur explained everything that had happened with Merlin, and when he finished, she had hugged him for a long time. Since then, they've talked almost nightly and Arthur's surprised at how helpful it's been.

One night Morgana tells him she's been seeing a counsellor at the university.

"After what happened," she says and Arthur flinches, "I was so… angry. And miserable, and confused, and lonely. I pushed it all down inside and of course it came out in awful ways; you remember all the fights I had with Dad. And then it got a bit better, and I came to Brighton, but it wasn't until this year that I really realised I needed some help."

"Has it?" Arthur asks. "Helped?"

"Yeah. A lot. Don't get me wrong, it's really hard and sometimes I don't want to go there and be so honest about everything. But just having someone to talk it all out with… it's been really good."

Morgana smiles at him.

"Merlin can get better too, you know. I know he seems a long way from it now, but it is possible."

Arthur nods, choked up.

He wants to believe it, so badly…

"You should think about seeing someone."

"Me?" Arthur says in surprise. "I'm not ill."

"No, but you're under an insane amount of stress and have been for a long time now. You've taken this all on yourself and you were brave to do it, but it's an incredible strain. I think it could help to have someone to talk to."

Arthur isn't sure. He's pretty certain Uther won't go for it either. But Morgana always has played dirty so she brings it up over dinner the next night, violating their long standing implicit agreement to avoid serious topics in casual conversation.

Arthur tenses and waits for Uther to shut her down, or simply ignore her. But to his shock, Uther puts down his fork and nods.

"If that's what Arthur wants, I think it's a good idea. I'd be glad to pay for some sessions."

Arthur has to remind himself not to gape.

"You don't have to…"

Uther looks weary all of a sudden.

"I would pay any price in the world for you to be happy. Both of you."

There's a lump in Arthur's throat and Morgana looks equally as touched.

Nothing more is said on the subject, but the atmosphere in the house changes slightly after that. Conversation flows a little more freely. Arthur feels able to bring Merlin up every so often, and Uther listens attentively when he does. His father also starts spending more time with them in the evenings, coming to watch whatever's on TV, and once even participating in a Mario Kart tournament (Morgana wipes the floor with both of them). Sometimes when Arthur gets home from the retreat, he can hear Morgana and Uther talking in the kitchen as they prepare dinner, animated discussion punctuated by laughter.

He's amazed at how good it makes him feel.

Accepting Uther's generous offer, he begins seeing a therapist. A plump bald man by the name of Glenn whose shelves are messily stacked with hundreds of books. Arthur surprises himself by finding he has a lot to say. It's mostly Merlin but with other bits mixed in, Morgana and his father, his relationship with Gwen, never knowing his mother…

Glenn listens patiently and Arthur realises it's liberating to be able to speak to someone impartial, to say whatever he wants without having to filter. He's able to tell Glenn how in amongst all his sadness for Merlin, he's furious too, that Merlin thought he could just leave like that, without so much as a goodbye. He tells Glenn that some days he doesn't want to see Merlin, and his heart is heavy on the drive to the retreat, for fear of what mood he'll find his friend in. Then there are times when he spends the whole day counting down the clock till visiting time, desperate to reassure himself that Merlin's still there, still alive and recovering.

He even manages to talk about the one thing he can't tell anyone else. His feelings for Merlin.

Arthur remembers texting Merlin to tell him that he loved him. He also remembers feeling it was entirely true at that time.

But Merlin's phone never made it to the hospital, so he never read the text.

And now…

The only thing he knows for certain is that Merlin is the most important person in his life. The centre of his universe. He can't live without him and he had nearly had to.

But what did that mean? Was prizing someone above all else the same as love?

He doesn't know. But the force of his own feeling, whatever it is, scares him sometimes.

It's much deeper than what he felt for Gwen, than what he ever felt for any girl before. It's an urge to protect, an urge to keep Merlin safe. But also to take care of him, to make him smile and wipe away his tears and always keep him close.

Glenn says not to get worked up about it. Glenn says that Merlin probably isn't in a position to think about a relationship right now anyway, so Arthur has plenty of time to figure it out.

Glenn tells him that whatever he decides, it'll be okay.

Arthur tries very hard to believe that.

They're trying to wash the river

in his blood. They're on the phone

to the Poisons Unit:

the readings aren't clear.

The bad days, when they come, are still bad; but Arthur notices they're becoming fewer and further in between. More often, Merlin will be sat in his room reading, or chatting with the other residents. He asked Hunith to bring him some A-Level textbooks at some point, though nothing official's been said about Merlin taking them this year. Hunith told Arthur it was possible though, she contacted the school and they would be happy to let him come back for the exams.

Arthur takes it as a very good sign that Merlin's re-engaging with his school work. He starts bringing Merlin fiction books too – it's not Arthur's specialist subject but Morgana helps him pick out the ones she thinks Merlin will like. Her taste is good and Merlin will often rave enthusiastically about her latest pick when Arthur visits.

It's difficult to spot when Arthur sees him so often, but he realises Merlin's looking better. He's now only slightly underweight, looking almost like he did a couple of years ago. He seems less resistant to the diet plan as well, and it's not unknown for him to eat a whole slice of cake or pie when Freya comes by.

Arthur knows it's too soon to celebrate. Anorexics relapse and he's not naïve enough to think Merlin can eat a few cinnamon rolls and be completely cured. But Glenn tells him it's okay to be hopeful.

"It'll be a rocky road ahead for your friend. But people do recover and there's no reason why he shouldn't be one of them."

Merlin leaves the retreat at the end of October. Hunith has no car so Arthur drives her there, and they pack Merlin's stuff into the boot.

It's by no means the last Merlin will be seeing of the retreat. He'll still be having three sessions a week there, and his health will continue to be monitored. He'll also be continuing to take SSRIs to help treat his depression. But he's been deemed well enough to go home and Arthur allows himself to be happy about it.

Merlin's smiling now as he says goodbye to the doctors and the other residents. He looks nervous and excited at the same time, and as they walk out to the car he drinks the outside world in.

Hunith tells him to sit upfront with Arthur and he does. Arthur can barely concentrate on the road; he keeps sneaking glances at Merlin, at all the emotions crossing over his face.

He looks giddy, then pensive, then finally sad as they drive through the centre of town.

It's the day before Halloween and there are decorations on the high street.

"Are you doing anything for tomorrow?" Merlin asks suddenly, breaking the silence in the car.

"Just staying in and trying to prevent Uther from scaring any kids who come to the door," Arthur says lightly.

"Hmm," Merlin says after a while.

Then he adds, so quietly that Hunith can't hear him.

"I was going to dress up as a skeleton but it might be a little bit too on the nose."

Arthur's not sure if he heard him right, because that'd be a sick joke indeed. But he looks at Merlin and there's a wicked glint in his friend's eye, his lips upturning at the corners.

Arthur stares for a moment before bursting out laughing. It's such a Merlin joke, dark and twisted. But it's the first one he's made in months and Arthur can't help but think it's a good thing.

Nothing's perfect,

but it's all there is.

Arthur helps Merlin unpack while Hunith cooks them all dinner. There's a tense moment when they first sit down, but Merlin eats steadily and finishes most of what's on his plate.

Arthur wonders how long it'll take before they can watch Merlin eat without worrying. Maybe it'll never happen.

It's past ten when Merlin starts yawning and Hunith insists on bed. Arthur accompanies him into his room to say goodbye.

Merlin sits on the bed, fiddling with a hole in his jeans.

"It's good to have you home," Arthur says, which is true and also the least he can say when he wants to say so much more.

Merlin nods.

"Good to be home."

Arthur clears his throat.

"Er, so I was thinking tomorrow we could do a Halloween movie marathon? Morgana had a horror phase when she was sixteen, she's pretty much got the lot."

"Yeah, that'd be good."

The silence hangs between them.

"Well, I should-" Arthur starts to say just as Merlin blurts out "D'you want to stay the night?"

He immediately goes red, and starts fiddling with his jeans again.

"I mean, for old time's sake. If you want."

"Yeah. Yeah definitely."

Merlin smiles briefly and Arthur grins back.

"Let me just call my dad."

When he returns, Merlin's already in a t-shirt and pajama bottoms, teeth brushed.

"I think there's a spare toothbrush in the bathroom cabinet," he says.

"Can I just use yours?" Arthur says cheekily and is rewarded with a cry of disgust.

"Gross! Keep your filthy mouth away from my toothbrush, Pendragon."

Arthur laughs and brushes his teeth quickly. He strips down to his t-shirt and boxers and says goodnight to Hunith before going back to Merlin's room. The main light's off and the lamp beside the bed is on, bathing the room in an amber glow.

Merlin's perched on the edge of the bed, staring into space. It reminds Arthur of the times he did that in the retreat.

He sits down next to him.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. I just… it all looks the same. I feel like it should have changed somehow."

"I know," Arthur says softly.

They sit in silence for a while.

"We never talked about…" Merlin's voice is low. "We never talked about that day. When I… overheard you."

Arthur's heart begins to race and he turns straight to Merlin.

"I'm so sorry. I'm so so sorry. I never meant for you to hear that in a million years. When I realised you were there it was the worst… the worst…"

"No, don't apologise. I only wanted to know… I mean… did you just work it out? Or did someone tell you, or…"

Merlin's looking intently at his lap.

"Our friends had guessed," Arthur admits, because he doesn't want there to be any more lies. "They were worried I was behaving badly towards you and they just let it slip."

Merlin sighs.

"Okay. Fair enough. I mean it's school, secrets have a way of coming out."

"I only found out a couple of weeks before you overheard us. And I'd only been talking with Gwaine about it, I swear. We weren't all talking behind your back or anything."

Merlin snorts softly.

"Gwaine's a bit of an odd choice to confide in."

"Yeah, I know," Arthur says. "Sorry."

Merlin nods and there's an air of finality about it. Arthur senses he's not going to say anymore. So Arthur's off the hook.

But he doesn't want to be off the hook all of a sudden.

A sense of clarity is spreading through his mind, telling him exactly what he should say.

He doesn't know why, and it's not as though the evening Merlin comes home is the best time to do it, but he feels like it might be now or never.

"I was talking to Gwaine," Arthur says strongly, hoping his voice doesn't shake, "because I was trying to figure out how I felt about you in return."

Merlin starts at that.

There's a pause.

"Is that why you were talking about gay porn?" Merlin says unsteadily

"Yeah," Arthur says, feeling his face heat up. "He told me to watch some to figure out if I could be… you know."

"But you didn't?"

"No, I actually did. I just refused to tell him that."

"Oh. And, er, did it… do anything for you?"

"Not really," Arthur says bluntly.

Merlin nods again, hands twisting in his lap.

"Right. Well, sorry to pry, I didn't mean to-"

"You're not prying," Arthur says, feeling his heart beating faster and faster. "I'm telling you. I didn't know what I felt. There were too many things happening and I couldn't sort my feelings out. And then you went missing. And I've never been so scared in my life, except for the moment when your mum called me and told me you were in hospital."

Arthur shifts his body so he's facing Merlin.

"I thought you were going to die. I thought I'd lost you forever, and there's a part of me that's still fucking furious about that by the way, but most of all I was bereft. The idea of carrying on without you was like carrying on without half of me. And I realised that… that I'm not complete without you."

Merlin finally looks up at that and Arthur can see his eyes are shining with tears.

"And I know you're recovering, and I know it's not the right time to make any big decisions, for either of us. But after all this time spent being confused and scared, and feeling like it was too complicated for me to ever get a grip on, I think I get it now. I think it might be simple after all."

Arthur looks Merlin right in the eye.

"I think I love you."

Tears are running down Merlin's face now and he shakes his head, once, twice.

"Don't say that. Don't say that if you don't…"

"But I do, I do," Arthur says, tears pricking at his own eyes. "I love you Merlin."

Merlin lets out a kind of half-sob and launches himself at Arthur, and Arthur wraps his arms around him, holding him close. They stay locked together like that for several long minutes, gripping each other tight.

Then Merlin leans back, still sniffling slightly.

"Are you sure it's not just pity? Because I'm sick and you feel guilty?"

Arthur shakes his head.

"You're everything," he says, and doesn't care how corny it sounds, because Merlin is.

Merlin looks transcendent.

"Do you love me too?" he asks, wanting to hear it from Merlin's lips for the first time.

Merlin smiles and wipes at his face.

"Nah," he says.

There's only one answer to that.

Arthur leans in and presses his lips to Merlin's.

It's nothing like kissing Gwen, or Mithian, or any other girl before.

It's not fireworks, or flashing lights, or orchestras striking up. Nothing so dramatic as that.

It's simply like coming home.

This. Now. The drip

of plain words.

Arthur wakes early, as the first cracks of light filter through the gaps in the curtain. His body is wrapped around Merlin's, one arm underneath the other boy, one arm slung over the top, holding him in a loose embrace.

His face is buried in the back of Merlin's head, inhaling the sweet scent of his dark hair. He drops a kiss on the top of his head and Merlin stirs slightly but does not wake.

The future is uncertain, he knows that much. Merlin is not fully well, not yet, and there's every chance he might backslide.

Arthur can't control that, something he has finally accepted.

But he can be here. Can try and fight Merlin's demons alongside him, help him up when he falls down.

It won't be easy, maybe not ever, but everyone always says that the good things never are. And Arthur knows without a doubt that Merlin is one of the good things. He can feel it in his soul.

Arthur knows there are hard times ahead. Times when Merlin will falter, maybe even become very ill again. Times when Arthur will feel helpless and impotent and frustrated.

There'll be other things too, the normal things that accompany relationships; bickering and screw ups and storm outs. Pain, on both sides. That's how it goes.

But Arthur chooses to believe there are good times ahead too. Walks in the park and holidays in the sun and nights spent cuddled on the sofa watching television. Kissing and sex and someone to hold in bed at night.

The future is uncertain, but Arthur's going to do his best.

He hugs Merlin closer, waiting for his lover to wake.

Yes.

Love.

This.

~III~

That's it! A massive and incredibly sincere thanks to everyone who read this and reviewed it. It's been genuinely wonderful and amazing to read your thoughts. I started this story thinking it would be a couple of chapters, but your support helped it grow into this unwieldy beast and I'm eternally grateful.

And to anyone who can personally relate to the events of this story, stay strong and have hope. There is help out there and you can get better.