An Infallible Reason 9
9: wings won't take me, heights don't phase me,
so take a step, but don't look down; take a step
It's not an immediate change, it's more of a slow, gradual process. It's having breakfast together and Arthur replacing his running for walks with Merlin, which get longer and longer every day. It's Merlin keeping the apartment clean and Arthur cooking for two every day. It's talking about politics and taking chairs out onto the balcony, to watch the sun set. At first, it's an imposed routine, stiff and scheduled, but in time, it just becomes the way they live. Arthur makes sure to always ask Merlin how he is doing, to always consult him before making any decisions, to always engage him in as many conversations and activities a day as possible, lets him make decisions and have some control of their lives, but never lets him relax and become complacent - he's learnt that lesson. Merlin's mood seems to be more stable now that he doesn't have too much free time on his hands, he becomes more talkative, starts eating better and, while he's not thrilled with prolonged physical contact, he doesn't cringe every time someone brushes past him in the store or on the street (Arthur is inordinately and perhaps selfishly exhilarated that Merlin seems to be okay with pretty much any contact with him; it makes him feel special).
They hit a few bumps. Merlin still refuses to see a therapist and Arthur's vacation doesn't last forever. Merlin still gets moody occasionally, storms off or breaks down for no apparent reason. With his father breathing down his neck like he's twenty-three again, Arthur sometimes comes home frustrated and slips back to his old, spoilt, rash self. But they're working on it.
What with Merlin's stubbornness and Arthur's inexperience, they need help. So Arthur asks Morgana for advice and she gives him her therapist's number. The lady turns out to be lovely and very eager to help, guiding Arthur through the process of healing after a traumatizing experience. So far, they're doing well, but there's a major step they still haven't conquered - according to Dr. Fitzgerald, the first breakthrough will be Merlin explicitly admitting to what happened and talking about it, something both Arthur and Merlin have shied away from until now.
Whenever they talk about what happened (which is still not very often), they always refer to it as the incident, that night or something else equally vague, like they don't both know what it was or like they don't want to name it. But tonight, Arthur has a plan. Merlin's gone out to the store because they ran out of milk and eggs (Merlin has taken it upon himself to go to the store whenever they need something, he calls it a good exercise - in what, Arthur doesn't know yet), and Arthur seized his opportunity to do something special.
They're celebrating the fact that Merlin decided to get a job as a part-time clerk at a nearby clothing store, so Arthur is making a special dinner. He even bought a small plastic table and took it out to the balcony so they can eat there. He plans for it to be a calm and relaxing evening because, unbeknownst to Merlin, he is also hoping he'll be able to steer the conversation into talking about what happened. It's a bit cruel, he's already acquiesced, that he's making such a sneaky attempt at forcing Merlin's hand, but at the end of the day, it's necessary and he's only doing it to help.
~*~
All doesn't go quite according to plan. The dinner is nice and calm and the spring evening is just warm enough to be pleasant. Arthur complains to Merlin about his day and Merlin reads a letter he got from his mother to Arthur (Arthur's heart goes out to the poor woman - she is still unaware of anything being seriously wrong because Merlin's managed to keep his letters mostly the same and pretend to be fine when he's talking to her on the phone, but she's a parent and parents, Arthur is well aware, have a sixth sense when it comes to their children, they always know when something is off, and Merlin's mother is no exception). Arthur is just trying to find a way to subtly start the part of the conversation he's been simultaneously dreading and praying for all day, when he does just that without any intention.
“Oh, I decided to walk here from Morgana's. They're setting up a park across the street from her building. Wanna go some time?” It only strikes Arthur then how that sentence sounds like he's inviting Merlin out on a date. Combined with their living together and having meals together, it's almost a courtship. Arthur would be amused if the very idea of courting Merlin didn't make him nervous - he's not used to wanting someone who already means so much to him and he knows it's way too soon for such advances (no, he's not afraid of rejection, thank you very much).
“I don't really like parks,” Merlin replies after a while, putting the last of the plates into the sink as Arthur brings their table and chairs inside and closes the glass door leading out to the balcony.
“How so?” Arthur asks, genuinely curious. He seems to remember Merlin mentioning how he used to love to hang out with his friend in a park on their street back when he was still living in Ealdor.
“Uhmmm... It doesn't matter,” Merlin mutters, voice pitched just a bit higher than usually.
It's enough to give Arthur a hint, though. It's now or never for this talk if he wants to get it over with tonight. He takes a deep breath to calm his nerves (and why is he getting so jittery about a simple conversation with a friend, for goodness sake, he's done business negotiations with people far more intimidating and powerful; but deep down, he knows this is a different kind of nervous, and a different kind of conversation, and a different kind of power that Merlin holds over him), sits at the kitchen table and takes Merlin's hand as Merlin starts to walk past him into the living room.
“Merlin,” Arthur says, sounding a lot calmer than he feels. Merlin's whole body stiffens and he freezes mid-step, the only thing moving are his eyes, which dart around the room once before settling on the floor. “We need to talk.” It's not exactly the smooth transition Arthur was hoping for, but it'll have to do.
Arthur just about catches the eye roll Merlin gives him before Merlin plops down onto the chair next to Arthur's. He takes a few audible breaths, and visibly steels himself and looks up, putting both of his arms on the table in front of him. “I had a feeling this might be coming sometime soon.”
“I just want to help you,” Arthur explains. He has to weigh every word before letting it leave his mouth, has to think about every sentence, lest he somehow inadvertently causes more harm than good. “Just... I don't know, tell me why you don't like parks?” he suggests. He almost wants to laugh at himself for that sentence, he sounds like he just came out of a bad Hollywood movie.
“Fine,” Merlin replies through gritted teeth. Arthur is hoping that Merlin is frustrated or flat out angry, he knows from experience that it's easier to say things when enraged than being fully aware of words leaving your mouth. “I don't like parks because...” For a moment it seems like he will just blurt it out, like he can't stop himself, but then he stops and takes a few shallow breaths, his skin paling and his eyes widening. `` The expressions cross his face, from anger to utter horror, to disgust, to, eventually, defeat. When he speaks again, the words are barely more than a whisper and his voice is unsteady. “Remember that park? The one where you found me on Christmas?”
Arthur nods. He would never, for as long as he lives, forget anything about that night.
“I was walking home, like I used to every day. That's where... where...” Merlin exhales a long, shaky breath and hangs his head. He looks like all the good things, all the accomplishments of weeks passed are drained out of him and there's nothing holding him upright anymore. Arthur can't stand to watch that, advice and the right thing to do be damned; he moves forward in his seat, extending his arms towards Merlin, but Merlin squirms out of the chair, murmuring, “Not right now, please, I can't,” and leaving to his room. It's not exactly the outcome Arthur was hoping for.
~*~
It's almost two in the morning when Arthur startles out of his dream. He must have drifted off at the table some time ago, because he had enough time to run through a whole zoo as two faceless men chased him. The apartment is quiet, eerily so and the only light is coming from a lava lamp on the kitchen counter. Arthur stands up, stretching his sore and cramped arms and legs. He debates turning the lights on or just going straight to bed when he hears a muffled sound coming from Merlin's room. Usually, Merlin's door being closed means that he wants to be left alone and up until now, Arthur's always done so, but he's already decided that today is the day for changes, come what may out of them, so he starts slowly shuffling down the hallway, past his door and to Merlin's room.
In all fairness, the door is not closed, there's a crack through which Arthur can just about make out the bed and Merlin in it; he can't see very clearly in the dark, but Merlin seems to be shaking, which can't be a good sign. The closed door, the darkness, the covers that Merlin's pulled all the way over his head if his bare feet are anything to go by, it's all like a wall put up in order to keep him out and he feels distinctly like he's intruding, but he knocks quietly on the door with his fingers and walks in anyway. Merlin doesn't show any signs that he's noticed. Arthur chooses to see that as an implicit permission, so he walks into the room and closes the door behind him. Merlin is taking deep, steadying breaths, but his shoulders are still quaking and he's sniffling. Arthur walks over to the bed and sits on it so that Merlin is facing away from him. He reaches out tentatively, like he's about to pet skittish animal, then retreats his hand. He feels foolish.
On one hand, he is probably not wanted here, it was stupid of him to come in, whether the door was closed all the way or not; on the other, this situation is sickeningly similar to the day Arthur first went to Merlin's flat and found him there, beaten and bruised and hiding and he most definitely does not want to go back to that. He wants to do something, to fix this, at least a little bit, but he feels as though whatever he does, it's never the right thing. So maybe he should just leave.
“Stay,” Merlin whispers, as if reading his mind and replying to it. Arthur doesn't know how to respond to that, other than to let out the breath that he hasn't realized he's holding and put a hand on Merlin's shoulder. Almost immediately, Merlin stops shaking and Arthur at first thinks that he isn't ready for contact yet, but then he notices that the muscles under his hand are relaxing and that Merlin's breathing is steadier, more natural instead of consciously controlled.
He climbs onto the bed and sits against the headboard, leaving some two inches between their bodies, a gap that Merlin quickly closes by leaning back. Arthur instinctively runs a hand through Merlin's hair before he has the time to talk himself out of doing that on account of it being too familiar (the line between friendship and more has been blurred for a while now for the two of them, at least in Arthur's eyes; he can no longer tell what he's doing because Merlin is his friend and what he's doing because he wants Merlin to be more, he doesn't know anymore how to distinguish the touches and words that he'd share with Merlin as a friend and when they turn to the gestures of a lover). Merlin turns his head around to face him and even in the dark, Arthur can see that his face is swollen and his eyes red and his bottom lip looks like he tried to chew it all the way off his face, but he's not crying right now, he's just looking up at Arthur, like he's lost and he's searching for answers which are, unfortunately, not written on Arthur's face.
Then, like he's only realizing it now, he simply states, “I was raped.”
10: again from the top now and tell me everything