Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Merlin stared down at the paper in front of him, tapping the eraser of the pencil against his lip. He had been in the ward for a couple of days, and he was already just so mindlessly fucking bored because there was really nothing to do except watch the television or talk to people who had little in common with him. He’d met a few people who had similar issues to his own, but nobody he could entirely relate to. So he figured he would write a letter to Will.

Will was his best friend, who he’d met online. They’d sent letters in the past, so he knew Will wouldn’t mind the correspondence.

Dear Will,

Sorry I haven’t answered any messages – I’ve been tossed back into Crazy Jail. I should have reached out to someone when things started getting bad, but you know how much of an idiot I can be when it comes to sharing my problems. My feelings live in fort Knox and I am but a humble guard.

I guess I should explain myself now that it’s too late, huh? I didn’t want to complain about it, but I lost my job at the station right after Gilly passed. I was running around like a headless chicken trying to find a new job and didn’t have time to grieve. She was the best cat I’ve ever had and I still haven’t come to terms. And then the water went out in my apartment! For a week! The lady in unit C started telling everyone it was my fault. I have no idea what I’ve done to that woman but she does NOT like me at all. Maybe she was mad about the pride stickers on my window.

The combination of everything was too much. The schizoaffective shit is triggered by stress and I think that’s what did me in. The doctors here don’t believe me. I started hearing people talking in the walls and thought the lady from unit C was pumping poison gas under my door. I could even see it. I held my breath for so long that I passed out! I realize now how silly it all was, but at the time it was terrifying. I called my mum panicking about it and she brought me back here. I dunno how long I’ll be in.

It’s not all bad, I guess. I don’t have to do my own laundry or cook in here, and I don’t have to listen to those people in unit A shag like animals every night. I’m genuinely surprised they haven’t put a hole through my wall by way of the headboard.

I’m not mad at my mum. I know she was just trying to help me. She gets scared when she sees me like that and I don’t blame her. I was doing really well, you know? Finally had a job, my own place, my own cat, and things were good. I guess I’m only as strong as my foundation, hah.

Please write back. I don’t know how long I’ll survive in here without outside contact. I don’t want to have to put ‘died of boredom’ on my death certificate.

Merlin

Merlin slipped the letter into an envelope, jotting down Will’s address from memory but leaving the name blank. Will was trans, but not out to his family. He didn’t want to deadname him, but couldn’t put his chosen name on it, so he usually left the name blank – Will was the one who always got the mail anyways, and he gathered that Will’s mum already thought Merlin was a socially awkward whack-job just from the few video calls they’d done with her in the house.

He carefully added the address of the ward, along with his name so Will would know who was writing him from the mental hospital – like there would be any doubt– before stamping it and carrying it to the outgoing box in the lobby. At least now he had something to look forward to.

He shuffled into the ‘recreation’ room and stared between the television and the table in the corner where a dark-haired girl was working on a puzzle with pieces too big to choke on. He heaved a sigh and wandered over to the table. “Mind if I join you?” He asked, hovering over the chair. The girl looked up at him and gave him a timid smile. “No, go ahead.” She said, gesturing to the puzzle.

“Thanks. Name’s Merlin.” He didn’t offer his hand – you didn’t do that here, usually. The girl perked up. “I’m Freya.” Merlin didn’t have to ask what she was in for – he could see the wound dressings on her wrists. He politely avoided the topic.

They were silent for a long time, but eventually ended up having a stilted conversation about how bad the television programs were and complained about the doctors. Merlin was glad to talk to someone who seemed similar to himself.

That night, he laid in bed, ignoring the murmuring coming from the walls. From under the bed. It was indistinct, like someone had left a television on in the next room. He shoved his pillow around his ears like it would block out the noise and ground his teeth together. “Shut up,” he groused, hoping they’d actually listen. They didn’t, of course. “Of course they don’t have the decency to let me hear what they’re saying…” He knew nobody was actually there – it was just a hallucination, one he couldn’t turn off, but it felt better to pretend maybe they were ghosts.

It was always worst when he was alone in the quiet. It was going to be a long night.

Arthur didn’t check his mail until he got into his apartment. He usually just tossed it onto the kitchen table and went through it later, but he was expecting an important document from his place of work. He paused at a hand-written letter and cocked his head. There was no name on it. And he didn’t recognize the name Merlin. He shrugged and tugged at the tape to open it, unfolding it to read. It was addressed to someone named Will – Arthur re-checked the envelope and made a noise of understanding – this was for someone in 214, not his unit at 124. …Still, he was curious. He could always re-tape the envelope when he was done.

By the end of it, he felt quite bad for this Merlin guy – what he was going through couldn’t have been easy. He deliberated taking the letter to the right unit and pretending he hadn’t seen it, but he knew it would probably bug him for days if he did. He took a picture of it with his phone instead, and then put it back, resealed the tape, and took it to the right unit. A young androgynous person (Will?) who was entirely too soft spoken took the letter, thanked him twice, and shut the door. Arthur counted it as a win.

Back in his apartment, he started writing back to the man. Best case scenario, he’d have two people to write to. Worst case, he’d get a letter back telling him to fuck off and stop being nosy. Both were okay outcomes.

Merlin,

I live in unit 124 at Will’s apartment building. I received your letter by mistake and opened it before really looking at the address. I didn’t intend to be nosy, but I couldn’t help myself. Hopefully you can understand. I figured if I wrote you, you would have two people to send letters to. You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but the offer is open.

I will go ahead and tell you some things about myself, if you haven’t tossed this letter in the bin yet. My name is Arthur, and I work in administrative level management for a software development company. My father owns the company, but we aren’t on speaking terms.

I am very sorry to hear about your cat. I have two of my own – Baelfire and Belladonna. Though I usually just call them Bailey and Bells. Bailey is a silver Maine Coon who’s afraid of everything that moves, and Bells is a black domestic longhair who’s already stupidly small, but looks like a baby compared to Bailey. I think she would fight God if given the opportunity. I hoped Bailey would learn how to be brave from her, but instead he just looks to her to take care of him. They’re, frankly, adorable together.

What you’re going through sounds difficult, but it seems to me like you’ve been dealing with it for a while, so maybe that means you aren’t completely up a creek without a paddle? I’ve had situational depression a few times, though I know it’s not the same.

That lady in unit C can eat rocks. There’s no excuse for homophobia or whatever these days. Or any days, really. LGBT folks have been around since the beginning of Man and we’re not in any hurry to leave, are we?

Hope to hear back. Good luck with your treatment.

Arthur.

Arthur waited almost three days before he finally sent the letter. He was afraid he’d get an angry response, or the feds on his tail. Opening other people’s mail was a federal crime, after all, even if it was…technically an accident. Once the letter was in the mailbox, though, there was no going back, and Arthur tried to put it out of his mind as he went about his business.

Merlin got Will’s letter back first – he’d mentioned that it had gone to the wrong address, and Merlin rolled his eyes. Hopefully nobody else had opened it.

But of course, he couldn’t get so lucky. A second letter from a similar apartment number arrived about four days after Will’s response. Merlin didn’t want to open it. It felt a little like he’d been naked in front of a stranger, knowing someone’d read it. He was angry. He almost pitched it into the trash without reading it, but decided that whoever it was had gone to the trouble of writing him, so he could at least hear him out.

So he read the letter. And he couldn’t bring himself to stay angry. Arthur sounded like a nice enough guy, and Merlin desperately wanted pictures of his cats.

So he wrote back.

Arthur The Nosy Prat,

Don’t you know that it’s illegal to open other people’s mail? You silly, silly man. Luckily for you, I am a very magnanimous individual.

I do want to thank you for delivering my letter to the right address – I’ve already gotten a response from Will. So imagine my surprise when I got a second letter? I digress.

Not to sound like a distressed maiden from a period drama, but I feel as though I’ve been undressed in the public square and laid bare for all to see. The words I wrote were very personal, and it made me angry for a bit that someone else had seen them. But you seem like an alright guy. Since you already know some of my most private details, I see no reason to hold back.

This place is sucking the LIFE out of me. The structure and routine are good, but every time I go to group therapy I feel like I’m going to spontaneously combust. I don’t want to tell all of my secrets to these people. But I must cooperate if I am ever to get out of here. I don’t even know what I’ll do when I’m out, but at least I’ll be a free man.

I’m still hearing voices in the walls at night, but I hope that with time it will stop. Being here stresses me out. I just want to go home and sleep in my own bed.

Please send me pictures of your cats. I can’t even look at memes in here, Arthur. It’s hell. They’ve taken my phone. I feel like I’m in medieval London churning butter to pay for my shack and donkey.

Are you gay as well? You did say ‘we’. I feel I’ve a right to pry, since you already know so much about me!

Please feel free to write back any time.

Merlin

Merlin sent the letter out, not expecting much in the ways of response. ‘I’m still hearing voices in the walls’ would scare off any sane person. Still, it was nice to be completely frank with someone without really worrying about consequences. Arthur was a stranger a whole state away and Merlin didn’t have to worry about scaring him away because he was just that – a stranger.

This made him all the more surprised when he actually received a response. It was in a smaller manilla envelope, and when he tipped the contents onto his bed, a couple of photos fell out along with the folded letter. The photos both featured professional photographs of two cats. This guy literally had paid someone to take professional pictures of his cats, both of them wearing little sweaters. “Oh my god.” Merlin said out loud, a grin spreading over his face. It was adorable. He quickly shoved the pictures into his bedside table, with the letters he’d received so far. He started reading the newest letter.

Dear Merlin the Mystery Man,

I deserved the nosy prat comment, and I am glad you wrote back! Thank you for your graciousness regarding my transgressions. I want to apologize again – I know it must have felt strange for someone you don’t know to suddenly have all these details about you.

I can’t imagine having to go to group therapy. I don’t even like talking to people in a group environment when it’s my decision to do so. Being required to share my problems with people I don’t know in a place I don’t want to be? Sounds like utter hell. I wish you a speedy escape.

I’m glad you enjoyed the pictures! I had them taken last year as a birthday present to myself. I’ve got larger copies of the ones I gave you, and they’re framed. They are hanging on the wall in my entryway. My sister tells me I am ridiculous, but I would just say that I’m happy.

I have an older sister, by the way. Well, half-sister. Her name is Morgana, and she’s a landscape artist. She has a girlfriend named Gwen, and they’re in the process of adopting their first kid. It fuels me every day that my dad didn’t get a single perfectly straight child. It is one of his greatest sources of frustration. And I’m bisexual, by the way – not gay. Though I have dated many more men than women.

Have the voices in the walls stopped yet? I can’t imagine it’s easy to sleep through such a thing.

From, Arthur.

The letters went on for weeks – Merlin decided he could call Arthur a friend. He greatly enjoyed reading about Arthur’s cats, and his complaints about his coworkers. It was cathartic, hearing about someone’s normal life while he was confined. It gave him a surprising amount of comfort.

He was doing much better – he figured he might have been able to leave soon. Those plans were ruined after an altercation with another patient.

Merlin didn’t know the guy – he was an aggressive type, and usually was kept away from everyone else, but Merlin ran into him on his way back from the bathroom after group therapy. He’d never done anything to the guy – he couldn’t remember his first name, but his last name was Valiant – but the bigger man seemed to think him a perfect target.

He’d acted like he was going to walk past Merlin, but at the last second the larger man grabbed him and slammed him into the wall, starting to whale on him with furious punches. They were under constant surveillance, so he only managed to get a few hits in before he was bodily restrained by a pair of orderlies.

Merlin was shaken, trying to figure out exactly what’d just happened – it was so fast. He gingerly reached up to touch his nose, which came away with blood. One of the nurses had approached him and was asking him something. He blinked at her, dazed. “What?” He asked, sound rushing back to him in a sickening wave. He looked down the hall to where Valiant was still being lead away. “What’s his problem?” He mumbled.

“Mr. Emrys, you need to come with me and have your nose looked at.” The nurse was herding him away from the wall. Ah. Right. Fuck, his face hurt. He realized he was shaking a little. “Am I supposed to be this calm? I just got attacked by a high school football dropout.” The nurse stifled what might have been a laugh. “It’ll catch up with you. We’re gonna try to get you to the doctor before that happens.”

The walk was short, but the nurse was right – by the time they made it to the clinician, the panic was setting in. His mind was running scenarios on what could have happened if Valiant had cornered him anywhere more private. He felt like he was going to levitate right off of the cot they had him on. “I could have died.” He insisted, trying to make the doctor understand. The doctor hummed. “I assure you, Mr. Emrys, you wouldn’t have died.” He was dabbing at Merlin’s nose with a cotton swab soaked in some kind of antiseptic.

“You don’t know that!” Merlin insisted, crossing his arms and leaning away. “He’s like twice my size! He could have snapped me like a twig over his knee!” His chest felt tight, like something was trying to claw it’s way out of his throat.

The clinician made a slightly frustrated noise, grabbing something from the set of drawers next to the bed. He popped two pills out of a bubble pack and held them out, along with a small water bottle. “Take these. They’ll calm you down.” He was holding them out, and Merlin had half a mind to smack them out of his hands.

“I don’t want to calm down.” He bit out, grimacing. “I want you to take me seriously.”

“I am taking you seriously. Now take them. I’m trying to give you a choice here, Merlin.” The doctor was being serious. Merlin sighed and took them from him, swallowing the pills with the water. “Now will you take me seriously? I want you to make sure this doesn’t happen again. I know I’m not really in a place to be making demands, but that guy’s dangerous. What if nobody had been guarding the hallway? What if he’d cornered me in the bathroom?” He knew he was gesturing too much – something that often happened when he was anxious.

“He didn’t. And you can’t focus on the what-if’s. You’ll just get more upset. We’ll make sure he’s escorted from now on.” The doctor’s voice was kind, and the words were enough to placate Merlin. For now.

He let the clinician finish cleaning up his nose, the older man muttering that he’d probably have a few bruises. Like Merlin couldn’t feel that.

He could feel the sedatives kicking in when he got back to his room, but he pulled out his notebook anyways. The first thing he wanted to do was write to Arthur and tell him. He didn’t know how to feel about that, but he didn’t look at it too hard. Instead, he wrote.

Dear Arthur,

Today was bad. It sra started out like normal. Group therapy was sucked, as usual. I was on my way back to my room and one of the other patients shoved me into a wall and started bear beating the crap out of me. Sorry about the speling they gave me a sedative. Anyways

They sayd said he was going to be escorted from now on, but I still feel nervous. I didn’t even do anything to his him! I hate not feeling safe here. The voices are lou so much louder and it feels like people are touching me. There’s noth nobody there, but I can feel their hands.

I am sorry this letter is not so happy. I just needed to talk tell someone. Please tell bailey and bells I ♥ them. Will write again when I feel better. Thanks.

Love, Merlin

Merlin shoved the letter haphazardly into an envelope, filling out all the information he needed to before stamping it and taking it to the outbox. He felt rather unsteady – the floor was dipping in front of him. The sedative must have been a strong one.

He managed to make it back to his room before flopping onto his bed, not even bothering with the covers. The murmured words in the walls were louder, but fuzzier. He could feel the invisible hands trailing down his arms, ghostly fingers against the back of his neck. He curled in on himself, his eyes wet. He hated the tactile hallucinations the most. He knew if he looked, he’d see nothing. It’d been a while since he’d had them.

He yanked the blanket up over himself and shivered. “Shut up, for the love of god, shut up.” He muttered, head swimming. It didn’t work, of course. He stared at the opposite wall balefully, trying to make plans in his head about what he’d do once he was out of here. He’d probably have to move back in with his mum until he could find another job. He hated imposing on her, but he didn’t think his landlord was going to be nice enough to hold his unit for him. He could hope he’d be out of here before he was evicted, but he couldn’t know for sure.

He sighed and closed his eyes, shivering and willing the sedative to just knock him out so he wouldn’t have to hear anything or feel those phantom fingers against his skin.

Arthur frowned down at the letter in his hands. Merlin hadn’t sounded this bad in the entire time they’d been writing. It was a stormy reminder that Merlin had issues Arthur would never be able to relate to or even help him with. This didn’t bother Arthur, other than that he hated feeling helpless in the face of it. He couldn’t imagine having to fight against things that weren’t really there.

He thought of the first paragraph and felt a swell of protective anger at the thought of someone hurting Merlin – he’d grown pretty fond of the guy over the course of their letters. The poor man was in a delicate enough of a situation without having his safety threatened in a hospital.

He re-read the letter once more (his stomach gave a strange little flutter at the ‘Love, Merlin’, as Merlin always only signed his letters with his name). He set it down on the table and looked over at Belladona, who was on the couch next to him.

“I know you have no idea what I’m saying to you, but Merlin says he loves you. You should tell Bailey.” He reached over to scratch behind her ears, smiling softly. He’d have to find some way to cheer Merlin up. He thought maybe he knew how.

Merlin was still feeling a little off-balance when he received an answer from Arthur. He periodically felt feather-light touches against his skin, and could see movement in his peripheral vision. Every time he turned to look, however, there was nothing there.

He was certain Arthur would stop writing him after the last letter – it was an ugly reminder that Merlin wasn’t and probably never would be a stable person. Still, he couldn’t stop the little flutter in his chest when he saw the familiar handwriting on the envelope. He opened it carefully, pulling out a folded letter as well as a photo.

He recognized Bailey and Bells in their little sweaters. Bells had a pair of heart-shaped sunglasses on. There was a man in the picture next to them, and they were all on a couch in front of a coffee table bearing a cake that said ‘Feel better soon, Merlin!’ on it in awful handwriting.

Merlin’s eyes burned. It was the sweetest thing he’d ever seen. It was clearly taken with a selfie stick, which meant that the man in the picture must have been Arthur. He was very handsome in his burgundy sweater and khakis. Merlin traced his finger over the edge of the picture, his face blooming into a brilliant smile. He’d almost forgotten the letter entirely. He laughed breathlessly, before setting the photo down and opening the letter.

Dear Merlin,

Words cannot express how sorry I am that you’ve had to go through this. Nobody should be made to feel unsafe, especially in an environment that’s supposed to be helping them get back on their feet. I have full faith in you, but I don’t know a person alive who would make it out of an attack like that unscathed. I’ve attached a picture that I hope cheers you up a little. We baked the cake ourselves. I’m a shit decorator, but hopefully you can still read it. It’s a strawberry cake, and I’m just going to have to eat all of it by myself (I am not complaining). You can have some in spirit.

Bailey and Bells send their love. Bailey knocked your letter into the floor and rolled all over it, but I managed to save it. He’s been informed that he is a horrible little goblin, but I don’t suppose he cares much.

Things at work have been interesting – our databases were hacked with a form of ransomware this week, and father has been going absolutely ballistic trying to find a way out of paying them. I know I should be worried, but watching him get so worked up over this has been nothing short of entertaining. Morgana has been pleading for updates every day. She wishes so badly she were here to see it. I feel a little guilty laughing at him, but he’s been quite rude for the past few months and I think this might be a form of Karma.

I also wanted to ask you about maybe meeting up once you’re out of the hospital. You don’t have to if you’re not comfortable with it, but I thought it’d be nice to get some coffee. I don’t mind travelling to come see you. I’ve grown to consider you a dear friend, and I would love to get the chance to meet you in person. Don’t feel pressured into making any decisions now. I just figured I would put it out there. I hope you’re feeling better and I can’t wait to hear back from you.

Love, Arthur.

Merlin’s face felt hot and he couldn’t help the silly grin that stretched over his lips. Love, Arthur, huh? He felt a strange little flip inside of his chest at the words. He knew he shouldn’t be getting so attached, but Arthur was so kind to him through his letters. He always knew exactly what to say to make Merlin feel better, more like the version of himself he recognized.

He worried a little – what if Arthur met him in person and decided he was too bonkers to stay friends with him? He shoved that thought away. Merlin had bared all to Arthur – the man was well aware of every issue Merlin had by this point. And he still wanted to meet him. It made his heart swell. He was a little anxious, yes, but… hopeful. Even if Arthur only wanted to be friends… Merlin didn’t have many friends who knew everything about him. Only Will.

He let these thoughts carry him as he went to group therapy. He’d wanted to duck out after the incident with Valiant, but they were still making him go. Stupid rules. He left his room and followed a few of the other patients down the hall to the room where group was held, letting his thoughts stray from Arthur to Will, then to Arthur’s cats, then to Gilly. He missed her.

“Okay. Same as usual, everyone take a seat.” The lady who ran group therapy was always unreasonably perky. Merlin wanted to dislike her for it, but she was just too sun-shiney. He took his usual seat, next to where Freya used to sit (she’d been released a few days ago). There were new faces. There always were. Merlin was outstaying his welcome, he felt.

“There’s some new faces here, so why don’t you two introduce yourselves to the group?” She was looking pointedly at two younger patients. The boy, dark-haired and far too serious looking, introduced himself as Mordred. The girl introduced herself as Sophia. Neither of them shared any further details about themselves. Merlin didn’t blame them.

“Alright! It’s a start. This week we’re going to focus on grief. We’ve all grieved in one way or another. It doesn’t have to be a person. Sometimes you grieve over changes in your life, or the people you used to be. Who here has experience with grief?” She looked around the circle expectantly. As usual, nobody really wanted to volunteer. Merlin tried to make himself smaller in his chair.

“Alright, then, I’ll go first. My most recent experience with grief was when my grandmother died. We were very close. She used to take me and my brother camping every summer. After she passed, I had a hard time venturing back into the outdoors. It reminded me too much of what I’d lost. My grandmother wouldn’t have wanted this for me, which I realized after a while. Now I try to see the outdoors as a happy reminder of good memories.” The therapist was leaning back in her chair, surveying them. “How about we go around in a circle? You have to share something, even if it’s to tell me you haven’t experienced grief.”

Merlin was already sighing. He usually avoided saying much of anything in these groups. He didn’t like spilling his guts to strangers – Arthur notwithstanding.

The circle’s progression was painfully slow. Some people copped out, a few of them sharing small statements about losing a grandparent or a pet. One girl had lost her best friend. Merlin felt for her.

“I lost my cat two weeks before I got here.” He said simply once the circle got to him, crossing his arms over his chest. He didn’t give any more information than that, staring at the clock on the wall in the hopes that this would be over soon. He wanted to get food and write back to Arthur.

The rest of group therapy was painfully slow. The therapist had everyone practice mindfulness exercises and told them to write journal entries about their weekly progress to turn in next week, for those of them who would still be there. She shared one more anecdote about The Strength of the Individual or something – Merlin wasn’t really listening – before letting them go. He hastily made his exit and followed a few of the group members to the cafeteria.

The food was just as bland and unappetizing as usual. A plain hamburger, three dreadfully under-seasoned potato wedges, a fruit cup, some mixed vegetables, and a milk carton. Delicious. He picked at it, forcing himself to eat the fruit cup and half of the burger. He missed cooking his own food. He decided that he was going to cook a nice big spread as soon as he was out of this place. His mother would like that.

He moved the peas and carrots around on the tray until he was able to go back to his room, where he promptly sat to write his reply to Arthur.

Dear Arthur,

Thank you so much for the picture. I will cherish it always. I really like Bells’ sunglasses. Does she know how cute she is? I worry she might not. You should tell her, so she knows. The cake looks delicious. The food here isn’t exactly five-star, but it’s not horrible. I would kill a man for some cake right now though (don’t let the orderlies know, they might think I’m serious. Maybe I am).

Group therapy was dreadfully boring. We talked about grief, and I told everyone about Gilly. I think she’d be happy to know people are talking about her. She always did love attention.

The voices are quieter these days – hopefully that means I’ll be free of this place soon. I don’t know how much longer I can take staring at these four walls without losing my mind. It’s funny, isn’t it? That they make you come here to get better, but the monotony is enough to drive a regular person insane?

I’ve never seen your dad, but I’m picturing a very angry mustached man like the dad off of Matilda, yelling about hackers and telling his employees that he won’t rest and neither will they until it’s taken care of. Does your dad look like Danny DeVito? Probably not. You’re very handsome, so I don’t think your dad would look anything like him. But then, genetics are weird, aren’t they?

I would love to get coffee sometime. I must warn you – I’m not nearly as charming and debonair in real life as I am on paper. I’m sort of like a greyhound with an anxiety disorder. Maybe that would make coffee more interesting? I bet you’ve never gotten coffee with a greyhound before.

You should give me your number for when I’m out of here. I think it’d make it easier for us to get that coffee. I’m not hitting on you [ unless you want me to? ;) Just kidding! Or am I? ].

I think when I get out of here I might go back to school. I’ve been moving from one crap job to the next and I think it’s time to do something different. I feel like a change of pace might help me.

I await your response.

Love, Merlin

He wondered if the flirting was too much. He didn’t want to scare Arthur off, after all. He considered scribbling over it, but decided not to. He could never test the waters if he didn’t… well, test them. He shoved the letter into an envelope before he could second-guess himself, stamping it and filling out the address before taking it to the outbox.

That night, the voices were only whispers.

Arthur stared down at the letter in his hands, leaning against his kitchen counter. Merlin had flirted with him. And he felt… well, not bad about it. He felt a little bubble of joy in his chest, actually. He was under no illusions that pursuing anything with Merlin would be easy. It’d come with it’s own set of challenges, but Arthur would be a damned liar if he said he didn’t at least want to give it a shot.

Merlin thought he was handsome. He knew he wasn’t bad looking, but he still preened at the compliment. He wondered what Merlin looked like. He really had no idea, and the description of being a greyhound didn’t give him a lot to go on, honestly. He decided he didn’t really care – his feelings for Merlin had nothing to do with how he looked. The curiosity was there, burning in his chest and fingertips, but he put it out of his mind for now. He’d find out, eventually.

He pursed his lips, trying not to think too hard about his dad being Danny DeVito. The comparison was hilarious – Merlin was right, of course, his father looked nothing like Danny DeVito. Still, he could picture the scenario in his head and laughed to himself.

He re-read the letter once, before sitting down at the kitchen table to pen a reply.

Dear Merlin,

Believe me, Bells knows exactly how cute she is, and she uses it to get away with murder. I will tell her anyways, because you asked me to, but trust me: she’s aware.

I’ll have to make sure that wherever we meet has cake. I can make a box cake, but that’s about the extent of my baking abilities. What kinds of cake do you like? Strawberry is my favorite, but I would never in a million years eat it with chocolate frosting on it. I’ve heard people say it tastes like chocolate covered strawberries. This is a lie. It tastes like sadness.

I can understand how the monotony might be horrible – I actually was in hospital for a couple of weeks once when I was a teenager. I had gotten into a car accident and got a nasty bump on the head and a broken leg. I was asleep for four of those days, but the remaining ones were boring as hell. My dad only came to visit me a couple of times, so I was mostly alone. I was ready to climb the walls when I got out of there. I can’t imagine being there for as long as you’ve been in.

I want you to know that the image of my father as Danny DeVito nearly killed me. I haven’t laughed so hard in ages. You’re right, he looks nothing like Danny DeVito, but the ‘dad from Matilda’ isn’t too far off from his characterization. The man can be a right wanker sometimes. Still my dad, though.

Are you flirting with me, Merlin? I can’t say I’m not interested. I’m going to include my number so you can call me when you’re free. We can call our coffee date a DATE date, yes? I’ll make sure to wear my most obnoxiously posh sweater. Maybe even a bowtie. Would you hate to be seen with a man wearing a bowtie? I need to know for scientific purposes.

I think going back to school is a great idea. Having something to focus on so steadily might help you build a routine, and I’ve read that’s important (I’ve been doing a lot of research about schizoaffective disorder and depression – is that creepy? I just want to be better informed so I can be supportive).

Anyways, hope they serve something nice in the canteen soon. I’d hate to think you’re starving to death and suffering at the same time.

Love, Arthur.

Merlin sighed as he stepped out of the psychiatrist’s office. The appointment had gone pretty well, he’d thought. He was honest with her. His hallucinations had gotten much better, but he’d still see things out of the corners of his eyes sometimes. The voices and touching had stopped. If he was right – and he’d been through several of these episodes, so he figured he might be – he would probably be symptom-free in a week. He just had to focus on his routine and stay away from anything that’d stress him out.

He returned to his room to find his mail had been delivered – a letter from Arthur, and a postcard from Will because his family was on vacation in some mountain range he couldn’t remember the name of. He read the postcard first, grinning at Will’s insistence that his parents were trying to kill him with boredom. He would quite like a vacation in the mountains right about now, actually, but Will had never been the outdoorsy type.

He picked up Arthur’s letter next, running his thumb over the name on the return address before opening the envelope and pulling the folded paper out. There was a sticky note attached to it with a phone number. Yes! He set that aside before opening the letter, reading over it with a grin.

He was relieved – he’d been sure Arthur was going to turn him down with gentle words, because that’s the kind of man that he was. To see otherwise gave Merlin a renewed sense of strength – if he got better and got out soon, he would get to go on a date with Arthur. A date date. Merlin had always worked very well when positive reinforcement was involved.

His eyes drifted back to the sticky note. He knew it was for calling Arthur after he got out. But….

He huffed out a breath through his nose, picking up the sticky note and staring at it. He had phone privileges. He could technically call Arthur. He wondered if he’d mind. He sat on the bed, reasoning with himself. Arthur might think he was weird. Stalker-y or something. Maybe he didn’t want to hear from the Merlin who was in the hospital, he reasoned. Maybe he only wanted to hear from the Merlin who was out of the hospital.

But then, Arthur had only heard from the Merlin who was in the hospital. So maybe.. he wouldn’t mind?

Merlin sat and deliberated for another forty-five minutes before getting up and requesting to use the phone.

He could feel anxiety creeping up his throat – his hands were shaky. He knew he shouldn’t be so nervous. Realistically, Arthur would either be happy to hear from him or he’d say they could talk later. Or maybe he wouldn’t even pick up.

He dialed the number before he could stop himself, putting the phone to his ear. It rang three times before picking up.

“Hello?” Merlin’s breath caught and he floundered, unable to say anything. He hung up the phone.

Shit.

He shook himself out, grumbling under his breath, before picking the phone back up and re-dialing. This time it picked up after one ring.

“Look mate, my refrigerator is running and my car is paid off.”

Merlin snorted.

“Arthur, it’s Merlin.”

“…Oh. Well hello, Merlin. Couldn’t wait to hear my voice?” Arthur sounded like he was smiling. Merlin grinned, despite himself.

“Don’t get a big head about it. I was just curious. Wanted to make sure you didn’t give me a fake number.” He leaned against the wall, counting the odd-colored tiles on the floor.

Arthur huffed a laugh. “Merlin, I wouldn’t go through all this and then give you a fake number. It’s good to put a voice to the words though, honestly.”

“Yeah, same here….” Merlin glanced over at the nurse, who was holding up seven fingers to him. His phone calls were limited on time.

“So, hey, I was thinking, I might be out in a couple of weeks. I’ve gotten kinda… good at tracking myself. So to speak. It’s just an estimate. Did you know where exactly you wanted to meet up?” Merlin’s voice was high with nerves – he did his best to keep it steady.

“Well, I’m coming to where you are, so you know the area better than me. Got anywhere in mind?” Arthur’s voice was calm, smooth. He was a beacon of surety where Merlin was not.

“Yeah! Um… let me think… there’s a café not far from my mum’s house called the Blue Jay. They have really good breakfast? I like breakfast.” Merlin looked down at his feet, wiggling his toes in his socks.

“Breakfast it is, then. Do they serve it all day? Or do you think we should have a morning date?” Arthur was asking it with all the casual air in the world – as though they’d gone on many dates before, and this was just another one for them to pencil into their schedules.

“They have breakfast all day. We can go whenever you want.” Merlin’s voice was soft. The nurse was holding up one finger now. He gave her a little wave, before dropping his hand to twist it in the hem of his shirt. “I’ve only got one minute left, so I should probably go.”

“I look forward to it, then. Feel free to call any time, Merlin. I’ll pick up if I’m home.” Arthur’s voice was still calm and steady, but there was a hint of something awkward there, as though he didn’t know how to proceed.

“Sure thing. See you, Arthur.” Merlin grinned, before hanging up the phone and shuffling back to his room. He figured he’d go ahead and write back, too.

Dear Arthur,

Do you always sound so proper? I liked talking to you on the phone. I thought the nurse was going to strangle me though – I was really pushing my 15 minutes!

I talked to my psychiatrist today. She’s really optimistic about my improvement so far. It helps that there hasn’t been anything to stress me out since the situation with Valiant. I’m glad my mum brought me here, but I’m ready to get out. I miss watching Investigation Discovery. I miss taking walks through Green River Park. I miss going grocery shopping. Is that odd? I always hated going to the store. But I kind of miss it.

I know that you already know this to some extent, but I just want to be honest with you. Dating someone like me isn’t easy. I’m not a complete basket case, but sometimes I go through episodes like the one that landed me in here. I’m sure google has told you this, but schizoaffective disorder is episodic. Usually it’s triggered by something, like stress or bad anxiety or depression or what have you, but sometimes the symptoms just show up.

I don’t want you to get involved with me under false pretenses. I’m not always going to be doing well and no amount of positive interaction is going to change that. I’ve had partners in the past who thought they could ‘fix’ me with enough love and patience and it was just tragic for both of us once they realized they couldn’t do it.

If this hasn’t scared you off yet, I’ll give you the good news: my symptoms are a lot milder when I’m happy. I’m happy when I write to you. I was happy when we talked on the phone. It’s not a solution, but something to consider. Even if a relationship doesn’t work out, I’d like to remain friends all the same, if you’d like.

Sorry for such serious correspondence! In less morose news, they had some pasta for lunch today that was actually pretty good. I think it was supposed to be lasagna? But it had so many vegetables in it. Still, not bad! Do you ever cook, Arthur? I cook all the time. I got really good at it when I was living with my friend Gwaine. He taught me everything I know!

I’m picturing younger Arthur stuck in a hospital by himself and it’s just so sad. I can’t believe your dad didn’t stay with you! Every time I’ve been in the hospital my mum has been glued to my side. I don’t think I like your dad very much. Sorry if that’s too blunt. He just doesn’t sound like he’s been very nice to you.

Anyways, I’m going to wrap this up before I have to write on the back of the page like some kind of Victorian era peasant with no paper. Ta!

Love, Merlin

Merlin’s leg bounced anxiously in front of him. He was in for his review and they were going to decide whether he was going to go home tomorrow or stay another week. He hadn’t received another letter from Arthur yet, though he had called him and discussed his feelings about the upcoming review, however briefly. Arthur had told him not to worry too much about it and that he would get out, whether it be tomorrow or next week. Merlin knew this. He just so very desperately wished for it to be tomorrow, because another week in here would have him trying to escape through the shower drain.

“Mr. Emrys?” The psychiatrist gave him a kind smile, stepping aside to usher him into her office. He quickly complied, giving her a weak grin before settling onto the bench by the window.

“How’re you doing today, Ms. Novak?” He asked, trying to look more relaxed than he felt.

“Oh quite well, thank you.” She busied herself with her clipboard before dropping into her office chair, reading over the notes and then looking up at Merlin. “Tell me, Merlin, have you had any suicidal thoughts?”

“No, none.”

“Alright. Any hallucinations in the last 48 hours?”
“No.”

“Brilliant. Any thoughts of self-harm?”

“No ma’am.”

“Do you believe that you are ready to re-integrate with society and employ the wellness and coping mechanisms you’ve learned while in our care?”

“Yes, I do.” Merlin’s palms were sweating. He tried to inconspicuously rub them against his legs.

“Good, good. Well, Merlin, your improvement has been remarkable to say the least. We will be releasing you tomorrow, but it’s very important you follow-up with outpatient services. You’ll have a weekly appointment you have to keep for the next three months. I cannot stress enough that it’s in your best interest not to skip these appointments.” She was pointing an accusatory pen at him, and Merlin’s face hurt from the blinding grin that’d stretched over his face at being released tomorrow. Tomorrow! God, he couldn’t wait.

“Of course! Absolutely. I’ll go to all of them, scout’s honor.” He tried not to sound too eager, and Ms. Novak laughed. “Don’t try to butter me up, Merlin. Just make sure that you do.” She signed something off on the clipboard, before turning it around and getting his signature on a line at the bottom. “You should call someone to come pick you up around 8 a.m. The things you had with you when you arrived will be returned in the morning.”

She went over the rest of the procedures he had to follow, but Merlin was only half listening. He was getting out. Out! He was so excited he felt like he was vibrating. He nearly skipped on the way back to his room, but tried to keep himself in check. He had almost forgotten what it was like on the outside.

Well, not really. But he would allow himself a bit of theatrics.

He spent the rest of the day flitting nervously from place to place, mentally planning out what he was going to do after he was out. He called his mum and she agreed to pick him up; she sounded relieved that he was doing better. He was relieved that he was doing better. As much as he’d hated being stuck in this place, it had done him a world of good. He felt ready to take on the universe. Or maybe that was the adrenaline. He didn’t know.

Somehow, he managed to sleep.

“Merlin!” His mother was waiting for him outside of outpatient services. He set his bag on the ground and quickly pulled her into his arms, squeezing her against him. “Hello, mum.” He said into her hair, grinning. “Thanks for coming to get me.”

“Of course, dear! Here, let me get your bag. I was thinking we could pick up some lunch on the way home. I know how much you hate hospital food.” She picked up his bag and kept her arm around him, shepherding him towards the car and chattering to him about everything he’d missed. Didn’t sound to be a whole lot, but he let her tell him about it anyways, even the boring details. He was just glad to be near her.

He stretched his legs as far as they would go once they were in the car, and he contemplated calling Arthur. He had already programmed his number into his phone – it was the first thing he’d done since getting it back. He decided it would be better to wait until they were home. That way he wouldn’t have to answer any awkward questions from his mum.

They ate their lunch once they’d gotten to her house, and Merlin paid her dog, Rufus, extra attention. He was an ancient hound, with droopy eyes and grey fur around his snout. He was a sweet dog, though, and Merlin was happy to curl up on the couch with him and sneak him chips when his mum wasn’t looking.

They chatted for the rest of the evening – Merlin told her about how he had to keep up his appointments, and how he thought he would start school instead of going back to work.  She agreed it might be a good idea. Merlin had been bouncing from one low-paying job to the next, and a change in the pattern probably wouldn’t hurt.

Once the sun had set and Rufus was passed out and drooling onto Merlin’s lap, they decided to go to bed. It felt weird, going upstairs to his old room. His mum had never been able to bring herself to change anything in it, so it was just as he’d left it. He dropped his bag next to the bed and flopped down, pulling his phone out of his pocket to stare at it. He didn’t even know if Arthur would still be up, but it couldn’t hurt to try.

He hit the call button and put the phone to his ear, staring up at the Motion City Soundtrack poster tacked to his ceiling. It only rang twice, before the line picked up.

“Hello?” Oh good, Arthur didn’t sound like he’d just woken up.

“Hey, Arthur. It’s Merlin. This is, um, my cellphone.” He’d been thinking of how this conversation was going to go, but now that he could hear Arthur’s voice on the other line, every thought he’d had suddenly vanished. “I got out today.” He couldn’t stop the grin that spread over his face. It felt surreal. He’d only been in there for a handful of weeks, but it’d felt like forever. Being back in his old bedroom felt a lot like staying in a hotel room in a foreign city.

“Oh! Congratulations, Merlin. We’re very proud of you. That is, me and the cats. I’m sure if they knew they’d be proud.” Arthur laughed a little, and Merlin could hear a loud meow from the other end of the line. “See? Bells knows.” Merlin’s grin got impossibly wider.

“So I was thinking, maybe we should plan that date?” He asked, twisting his free hand into his hair and kicking his leg back against the bed. Arthur hummed in agreement on the other end.

“Of course. I’ve got a three-day weekend coming up in four days. I can head out on Friday night and meet you Saturday morning. Want me to pick you up?” Merlin could hear water running and dishes clinking in the background. It was so horribly domestic it made Merlin’s chest ache.

“Wow, you’ve really planned this out, haven’t you?” He teased, feeling his face grow hot. Arthur huffed. “Always be prepared, Merlin. …And I might have been thinking about it since you mentioned you might be getting out soon, yeah.” Arthur sounded sheepish.

“Aww. With that kind of preparation, I expect this date to knock my socks off. What time do you think you’ll be here?” Merlin’s face hurt from smiling so much, but he couldn’t help himself.

“Don’t get too excited, I can only live up to so many expectations, Merlin. I might be around at ten-ish? I’ll call you half an hour before I get there. Sound—” There was the sound of something clattering. “No, Bailey, that’s not food, it’s a fork! Gimme that.” Arthur huffed. “Anyways, sound good?”

“Absolutely.” Merlin huffed a laugh. “See you then?”

“’Course. Sleep well, Merlin.” Arthur’s voice was fond, and Merlin replayed it in his head long after he hung up the phone.

Merlin looked between the two shirts on his bed. He had managed to get most of the important things from his apartment, and his mum had paid for a storage unit to keep the rest of it in until he could figure out what to do with it. He’d managed to dig out his best pair of black jeans, but he wasn’t sure if he should wear the black button-up or the cream-colored sweater. ‘Why not both?’ a voice in his head asked, and he had to agree. Layer them. Not a bad idea. “Thanks, me.” He murmured out loud, before doing just that. He had to admit – it wasn’t a bad look.

“Where are you going all spiffed up like that?” His mum asked as soon as he set foot on the landing. “I’m going on a date.” He answered immediately, giving a little spin. “Look alright?” He asked, pausing to fidget with his shirts.

“You look very handsome. Would this happen to be a date with this Arthur fellow? You should be careful, you know.” His mum was smiling, but she sounded slightly concerned. Rufus’s head was in her lap, and he was inching closer and closer to her crochet project.

“It’ll be alright, mum. You know I wouldn’t be going out with him if I didn’t think it was safe.” Merlin said softly, leaning on the banister. As bad as his anxiety and paranoia could get, there’d been plenty of times he’d chickened out on dates. His mum looked back down at her crochet. “Well, do be careful, anyways. I’ll be here when you get home. Love you, dear.” He could see her doing her best not to be overbearing and greatly appreciated it.

Merlin didn’t have to wait long – Arthur had called him about ten minutes ago, so he went ahead and pulled his coat on to wait by the door. He paced a bit, nerves wiggling around in his belly and making him feel a little like he might lose his breakfast. He wasn’t sure why he was so nervous. No, scratch that – he knew why. Arthur had never seen him. What if he didn’t like how Merlin looked? What if Merlin was annoying in person? What if Arthur had been playing a long con—nah, that was unlikely. He huffed. He’d been so lost in his own head he nearly jumped out of his skin when his text notification went off. He looked down at his phone. Arthur was there.

Merlin steeled himself, before adjusting his scarf and heading outside. It was chilly, but hadn’t snowed yet. A very nice looking black car was parked in the drive. Merlin made his way to the passenger side door and opened it, folding himself into the seat.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t realize you were so tall. There’s a button to adjust it on the door.” Arthur looked sheepishly at him. “It’s good to finally put a face to the voice.” Arthur was fiddling with the dash controls, turning the heated seats on.

“Not a bad face, I hope.” Merlin said, before he could stop himself. He was resolutely focused on adjusting the seat, his face red.

“Not at all, Merlin. I think you’re rather handsome.” Arthur’s face was red as well. He was smiling, albeit nervously.

“Thank you.” Merlin sniffed, his ears burning. It made him feel a little better, but he still fidgeted with his fingers, staring at his lap. “How’re Bells and Bailey?” He asked, for lack of a better topic. Arthur huffed a laugh.

“They’re just fine. Probably angry with me for being gone, but I’ve arranged for a friend to check up on them for me. They’re used to me going on business trips, so this isn’t anything new for them. Probably still going to bribe them with treats when I get back, though.” Arthur smiled crookedly, following the GPS’s location to the Blue Jay.

Most of the car ride was quiet, though Merlin pointed out any interesting places they passed, insisting on giving Arthur the ‘grand tour’ of his hometown, what little of it there was. “I broke my arm there when I was eight,” He said, pointing at a skating rink set into a strip mall. Arthur snorted. “How on earth did you manage that?” He asked, fondness slipping into his tone.

“I am very clumsy sometimes.” Merlin flushed, tugging at his scarf. “Oh, the Blue Jay is gonna be up here on the right past the gas station.” He was craning his neck as though it would help him see better. “Oh, right, I can see the sign.” Arthur hummed in response, pulling them into the parking lot once they’d reached it.

Merlin shivered once they were out of the car, the wind tousling his hair and cutting through his layers like they were made of tissue. Arthur hovered nearby, as though he was debating with himself, but eventually he just placed a hand on Merlin’s shoulder and squeezed. “Let’s get inside before you freeze to death.” He said guiding them both towards the doors of the Blue Jay.

The rush of warm air that hit them when they opened the doors felt like heaven, and Merlin lingered under the industrial heater for a few seconds before finally allowing Arthur to steer him towards the counter where the hostess was ringing up another customer.

“Just two, then?” She asked, pulling out a couple of menus once the customer had gone. “Yes, just two.” Arthur answered, watching her gather up a couple of flatware rolls as well. They followed her to a little table by the window, and Merlin hovered until Arthur sat, then took the seat across from him.

“So, Merlin, what would you recommend from this place?” Arthur asked, flipping his menu open and scanning it’s contents. He looked relaxed, for the most part, though there was a tension in his shoulders that belied a little nervousness for reasons Merlin couldn’t identify.

“Depends, are you wanting something sweet or not?” He asked, skimming the menu himself even though he’d memorized it years ago. Though, they did have a new omelet stuffed with philly cheesesteak ingredients..

“Hm… Something sweet.” Arthur decided, grinning a little. Merlin mirrored it. “Well, I suppose I’d have to recommend the stuffed crepes. You can get those in strawberry or lemon. I don’t recommend the lemon. They haven’t figured out how to make it not taste like the smell of floor cleaner yet.” He said pointedly, before closing his own menu. Arthur hummed thoughtfully. “Strawberry crepes it is, then.” He said, closing his own menu just as a waitress appeared at their table.

They gave her their orders; the stuffed crepes with coffee and water for Arthur, and a hash brown scramble with apple juice for Merlin.

“This feels so surreal. Do you ever think it’s weird? That if Will’s letter had gone to the right address the first time, we never would have met?” Merlin asked, finally shedding his coat and scarf and letting them hang over the back of the chair. Arthur watched him in thinly veiled appreciation.

“I’ve never really thought about it, actually. But I’m glad that we did meet. I actually wasn’t.. in the best place, myself, when I got your first letter. I think that’s why I reached out, to be honest. Things had been really horrible at work for over a week and I’d had a significant fight with my father.” Arthur was frowning at the memory, but quickly brushed it off with a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I like to think it’s like a happy accident.”

Merlin considered this, resting his chin on a fist. “I think we both needed a friend. The universe knew and gave us a nudge.” Merlin’s lips quirked into a small smile. “I have Will, of course, though he never… knew what to say to make me feel better. But you always did. Every time I thought I wasn’t going to make it, you made me remember why I had to.” His shoulders hunched self-consciously, and it made him feel better when Arthur’s smile turned genuine.

“I had no idea I was such an influence on you, Merlin.” Arthur’s voice was smug, and Merlin rolled his eyes. “Don’t get a big head about it, you insufferable prat.” He said, his face going pink when their waitress chose that moment to return with their drinks. He focused very hard on his apple juice, sipping with the concentration of a man trying to defuse a bomb.

Arthur thanked the waitress and started dumping an ungodly amount of creamer into his coffee – but no sugar. Once he was satisfied, he started stirring, fixing Merlin with a single raised eyebrow. “Is it good?” He asked, grinning. Merlin felt his ears grow red. “Shut up.” He mumbled, sinking down into his seat by a few inches. “So what if you were, anyways? Anyone could fall for a handsome idiot writing them letters at the most vulnerable point of their life. You’re not special.” Merlin sniffed, dragging a laugh out of Arthur.

“Of course, of course.” He humored Merlin, though there was a fond smile on his face. “If it makes you feel better, you were quite an influence on me, too. It was embarrassing, how excited I got every time I received one of your letters. I’ve never checked my mail with any regularity until we started writing each other.” Arthur’s cheeks pinked, just enough to be visible. He took a sip of his coffee, the action so prim it caused a grin to slide over Merlin’s lips.

Their conversation continued easily, the flow uninterrupted as they both needled each other for information. Favorite tv shows, hobbies, their families. Merlin learned that they were both the product of single parents, and Arthur really liked hiking and woodcarving. He showed Merlin pictures of little statues he’d whittled, ranging from animals to fantastical beasts of legend.

Arthur learned that Merlin liked to cook, write, and restore old books. He’d only done a few, because old books that weren’t beyond his ability to repair were hard to find. Still, he enjoyed it. Neither one of them seemed to have a large social circle, though Arthur’s was bigger than Merlin’s.

Their food had arrived at some point, and Arthur had to admit that Merlin was right about the crepes. They were absolutely delicious. Merlin beamed at him. “I’ve got good taste.” He said, puffing up a little in pride before digging into his breakfast scramble. They ate in companionable silence for the most part, though every now and then Merlin would point out something interesting he saw outside.

“Next month they’ll start putting up Christmas decorations. There’ll be lights everywhere and big, hideous red bows on all of the streetlamps.” Merlin was grinning, wistfully, rolling the straw to his drink between his fingers. Arthur stared out of the window and ‘hmm’d quietly. “I bet it’s beautiful.” He said, trying to envision what Merlin was describing. “My family’s never been very big on Christmas. Dad couldn’t bring himself to celebrate much of anything after Mom died. So it’s always been a really small affair.”

Merlin frowned into his drink. “You should come to Christmas at my house. It’s usually just me and Mum, but we do a lot. Make a big dinner, play games, decorate cookies, and on Christmas Eve we have a small parade that goes through the downtown area. Sometimes there’s a bonfire in the park, but I dunno if they’ll do it this year because the guy who usually organizes it moved away. I’m sure someone will pick up the torch eventually, though…” He trailed off, before seeming to realize he’d just invited Arthur to spend Christmas with his Family, like they’d been dating for months. He instantly went red. “Not that you have to! It’s just, you know, um..”

“No! No, of course. I’d… really like that, actually. If you think your mum wouldn’t mind.” It was Arthur’s turn to go red, and he was staring very hard at the remains of his crepes. “I want to be transparent with you, Merlin. I really do like you a lot. This has been the best date I’ve been on in years.” The words followed a small smile, and Merlin let himself feel relief.

“Yeah, same here, actually.” Merlin felt warmth bloom in his chest, and couldn’t have stopped his smile if he’d wanted to.

They finished up their meal, and drove around the town a little to stretch out the time before Arthur finally drove Merlin back home. They parked in the driveway, and Merlin stared out of the window, burrowing down into the heated seat. “I had a really great time.” He said, knowing his smile must have looked goofy but not caring. Arthur grinned back at him, before reaching out to adjust Merlin’s scarf. It was the closest they’d come to touching through the entire date, though Merlin’s fingers itched to make contact.

“I did too. I’ll call you later?” Arthur asked, letting his hand drop once he was satisfied. Merlin nodded immediately. “Yeah! Absolutely. I’d like that.”

Arthur reached over and pulled Merlin into a hug, though the motion was tentative – he was keeping his movements gentle in case Merlin wanted to pull away. He pressed into the hug instead, nuzzling his nose into Arthur’s sweater and relaxing into the hold. Arthur smelled sweet and spicy, cologne and crepes and coffee. Merlin never wanted to let go of him, but did eventually, his face hot. “We’ll have to do this again sometime.” He said, earning a nod from Arthur. “G’bye, Arthur.” He said, suddenly shy. He made himself open the car door and climb out.

He made it halfway to the front door before turning around and shuffling back towards the car, this time going to the driver’s side. Arthur rolled down the window, and Merlin wordlessly leaned in and pulled Arthur into a tentative kiss. Arthur only hesitated for a second, before kissing back and raising his hand to the back of Merlin’s neck.

It was soft and sweet, and Merlin could taste the coffee on Arthur’s lips. He pulled away, his tongue darting out briefly. “Sorry. I had to.” He said, by way of explanation, offering a shrug. Arthur’s grin was blinding. “Don’t apologize, Merlin. I loved it.” He said, and they both stared soppily at each other before Merlin shivered, his breathless laugh putting an end to the moment. “Well, I really should go inside before I turn into a popsicle. I’ll see you later.” He said, giving Arthur a little wave of his fingers before turning and heading up to the front door.

He could hear Arthur’s car backing out of the driveway, and it gave him the resolve he needed to walk through the door. He put his coat and scarf up, trying to quell the fluttering of warmth and excitement in his stomach. His mother was halfway down the stairs by the time he’d kicked off his shoes, and he grinned at her.

“How’d it go?” She asked, though she was mirroring his smile. Merlin bounced a little on his feet.

“It was amazing. I had such a good time.” Merlin sighed, though it was a happy sound. “I can’t get over how perfect he is. And he actually likes me. Me! Any sane man would have taken one look at all my issues and run the other way, but he’s…” Merlin trailed off, swaying a little and grinning, leaning against the counter by the door. “He sees all of me.” He offered, shrugging his shoulders a little. Hunith’s smile was watery as she patted his shoulder. “I’m happy for you, love. I hope he’s the keeper he seems to be.”

“Well, I invited him to Christmas, so you’ll get to see for yourself.” Merlin laughed a little nervously, and Hunith shook her head. “You ridiculous boy. On the first date?” She asked, though she was smiling.

“It was a really good first date.” Merlin pointed out, blushing and rubbing the back of his neck. “Plus, we’ve been talking for a while now, and he said he’d like to. His family doesn’t really do Christmas very much.”

“Oh dear. In that case, he’s more than welcome. We’ll make sure it’s a good one.” She gave him another pat, before going about making tea.

Merlin climbed the stairs to his room, feeling giddy and light.

He had no idea what to do with this much happiness, but he wasn’t going to complain about it.

Merlin and Arthur kept up their semi long-distance relationship, Arthur driving out so they could go on a few more dates over the next month. Merlin kept looking for something to prove that Arthur wasn’t perfect. The relationship seemed too good to be true, and sometimes Merlin felt like there had to be something wrong – things couldn’t possibly be going this well. They had their arguments, of course, but they were never big, and Arthur was always quick to forgive him.

No matter how hard Merlin looked, he couldn’t find anything. No red flags, no dark secrets. He finally just let himself be happy – he figured he may as well let himself be, because sitting around waiting for the other shoe to drop was just exhausting.

He’d only had a few bad days, and Arthur talked him through all of them. The day Merlin had run into his ex (a horrible man who’d manipulated Merlin and had caused his first ever stay at the mental health facility), Arthur talked him through it and reminded him he was safe and loved. Merlin couldn’t help but believe him.

Things went on this way until well into December, and Merlin invited Arthur once more to spend Christmas with them. Arthur readily agreed, saying he could work remotely and stay for a week if Merlin and his mum were okay with it. Merlin was more than okay with it, and his mum rolled her eyes at his ridiculousness but agreed – she couldn’t possibly turn Merlin down when he was so excited. She didn’t think she’d ever seen her son so happy, and if Arthur made him happy, then she was happy. She still had a few misgivings, having seen Merlin get hurt before, but they grew less and less as time wore on.

Merlin finally seemed content, for the first time in his life.