Hello,

After your nice reviews, I decided to add a little chapter to my one-shot as a thank you, here it is, hope you enjoy. :)

To adapt

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When Merlin comes back from work, the flat is suspiciously silent and tidied. He is already interiorly fretting because it's been four months since Arthur came back. And in four months, Merlin has grown accustomed to coming home to his flat in an apocalyptic state with Arthur worrying over this or that. And if there's not at least something broken in the room, then Arthur is in trouble somewhere outside.

Merlin always locks the flat so that Arthur can't go out. But Arthur has escaped before, to save some passing damsel in distress he had seen through the window. The problem is that, according to Arthur, a lady making a phone call in street is a damsel in distress. And when Merlin tries to explain to him what a phone is, Arthur is still convinced it's an aggressive device attacking everyone's head.

So if Arthur is indeed outside, Merlin will have an exhaustingly long evening –possibly night.

"Merlin? Are you home?" Arthur's voice is coming from his room and Merlin is so relieved he could hug him –even if they both have tacitly decided it is not something to do again.

Merlin puts down his suitcase and joins Arthur in his room.

He finds him lying on his bed with Merlin's computer before him and the TV's muted but it's on nonetheless. Merlin's jaw almost falls to the ground.

"What are you doing?" he squeals.

"I finished the diary so I thought I would try and practice to see if I've learnt my lessons well. Don't be such a girl about it, Merlin." Arthur grins.

"You know I have all my courses on this computer, don't you?" Merlin is definitely not panicking.

"I'm on the Internet, your files are safe. Your password wasn't that hard to guess, you might want to change it, unless you want some hackers to get into your hard-drive."

Merlin opens and closes his mouth like a fish out of water before he can find his words:

"Who are you and what have you done with Arthur Pendragon?"

"You might want to check the oven, I think the lasagnas are ready." Arthur answers in a shrug.

"I think I'm having a stroke." Merlin mutters.

Arthur rolls his eyes, closes the computer and throws a disapproving glance at him.

"Do you want me to call a doctor?" he asks nonetheless. "I believe I finally get how to use the phone."

"What happened to you?" Merlin screams. "Have you been hit? Injured? Are you ill?"

"I'm perfectly fine, thank you."

Arthur can't help but smile, because he gets a sense of how Merlin must have felt for four months. His friend really has been patient.

"I think I'm adapting at last. Isn't it what you wanted?" Arthurs inquires.

Merlin nods tentatively, still shocked.

"Does it mean I don't have to repair the shower today?"

"I took a bath."

"Ok, now I need to sit."

And he lies down on the bed next to Arthur who cannot suppress a laugh.

"You don't need to make a scene, Merlin, I still need you to go outside."

"I'm not making a scene." Merlin protests with a dirty look. "You have been a royal pain in the ass for four months –four months, Arthur! And now you're telling me that the same Arthur who destroyed the phone twice this month knows how to make a phone call?"

"I wanted it to be a surprise." Arthur shrugs.

"A surp–… oh, that's just brilliant!" Merlin is now really upset. "Did you set fire to the apartment last week just because you needed more time for your surprise?"

"That was an accident." Arthur confesses with a sheepish look. "I was experimenting."

"Exper–… I need to get out."

With that, Merlin raises and violently slams the door on his way out.

"Well, that went better than I expected." Arthur sighs, getting up to catch his coat.

It takes him one minute to find Merlin's spare key in his forgotten suitcase and three more to get out of the building without losing his way.

Once outside, he throws a worried glance at the streets. He may be successful in domestic adaptation, but he still needs some lessons about the outside world. However, he decides to trust Merlin's diary and not to rush back inside to fetch Excalibur.

Merlin knows he shouldn't have reacted so strongly to Arthur's surprise. He should have been proud and relieved… but he has spent four months nerve-wracked because of the prat. He has been more patient than he would have thought possible and Arthur is just an insufferable and ungrateful prat.

Merlin stops in the park in front of their flat and sits down on a bench near a fountain lit up by colored lights. He remembers the first time Arthur saw it, months ago. He insisted on staying more than two hours in the cold wind of April just to watch it. He asked if it was Merlin's doing, suspecting some magic in it, and when Merlin explained how it worked, Arthur declared it to be the most beautiful creation he had ever seen. It had been the very first time Arthur weren't afraid of something new and Merlin cherishes the memory dearly.

And he really wishes he could feel the same now: proud and a little bit too caring for their own good. But truth be told, at this moment, he's the one who is afraid.

"Are you quite sure your magic isn't doing this?" Arthur's voice teases behind him.

"Hundred per cent positive." Merlin retorts.

Arthur takes it as a silent agreement and sits next to Merlin. They stay still for a while and then Arthur nudges Merlin's shoulder.

"I'm not done with you yet, Merlin." He jokes.

Merlin doesn't answer, his gaze lost in the fountain.

"Remember that crazy stuff your dragon said about us being two faces of a coin?" Arthur insists.

"His name was Kilgharrah."

"Does it really matter?" Arthur rolls his eyes.

"It matters to me, he was my friend."

"Don't be a killjoy." Arthur whines. "Kilgharrah may be dead, that doesn't mean he's not right anymore. Arthur wouldn't go very far without Merlin."

"You think I'm mad because you can move on now?" Merlin sounds incredulous.

"No, I think you're mad because you've waited thousands of years and it feels like I'm leaving again. I think you're more afraid than you're mad."

Merlin remains silent but he's rigid.

"Listen, I know you're mad and stuff, but we really have to go home now." Arthur says, getting up to try to hide the embarrassment in his voice.

"What did you do?" Merlin sighs.

"I forgot to switch off the oven before I went after you."

Merlin grunts and he rushes back towards the apartment, Arthur on his heels.

When they get there, their flat is still intact and the lasagnas are just a bit too grilled but they eat it anyway.

And Merlin is still not speaking to Arthur.

But Arthur doesn't complain, because he knows that Merlin is not really mad at him. It's Merlin's turn to adapt to a new situation. So he pretends everything is normal and speaks to Merlin as if it's not troubling him not to receive any answer from his friend. And when he goes to bed, he wishes Merlin a good night just like every other nights and hides his cracked heart in his bedroom.

Merlin is aware that he should have said something to make Arthur feel better… Scratch that, he should have tell him he's proud and encourage him. But he couldn't bring himself to do it, even when Arthur left the room with a barely concealed heartbroken smile.

At first, he had thought he was mad because Arthur has behaved like the proper prat he is, and there's probably a bit of that in his reaction. But the more he thinks of it, the more he realizes that Arthur was right in the park: he's afraid.

For he may have complained every single day about Arthur's adaptation process, now that they're actually getting there, it feels like losing him over again. Because it means Arthur is getting closer to a normal life, which means he's getting closer to wanting to live that life… Which means Arthur will leave one day. And since there's no world to save, no servant or king to be, Arthur will live in his own flat and have his own life. They'll just be friends, hanging out from time to time. And Merlin is not ready to face that.

He is finding out that he is ready to fix the shower every weeks if that's what it takes to keep Arthur by his side. Because he has spent too many centuries waiting for his return and when you wait for someone for that long, it messes with your head –and your feelings. He would stay awake and tell Arthur what he missed all night long if needed. He would repair any piece of furniture without blinking… He would do all these things he complained about if that means they'll stay together in this flat forever –or at least for a while longer.

Merlin lies down on his bed, slipping under the covers and sighs heavily. He is now realizing how hard it is to be reasonable when Arthur is concerned. And it feels like his epiphany is too late and he's now the one who has to adapt and move on.

Later that night, Merlin is woken up by the sound of his door but he doesn't bother to move, feeling sleepy. He already knows who it is anyway. Arthur tends to visit him at night, either to be a pain in the ass or just to check on him.

The first time Arthur has explained he's checking if Merlin's still here, Merlin has found it weird. But he's grown used to it by now, he knows Arthur has troubles at night since his long sleep in Avalon. That's why Merlin doesn't move an inch when Arthur lies down next to him.

But he does react when the blond puts his back fully against Merlin's. Arthur has never been shy when it comes to physical contacts, but this one's intimate and Arthur doesn't do intimacy –not since the episode of the awkward hug anyway.

"Couldn't sleep." He mumbles in response to Merlin's surprise. "See, I still need you." He adds to ease up the tensed atmosphere.

Merlin doesn't answer, but he doesn't move away either.

"I have a whole bunch of excuses ready to justify why I'm gonna stay with you forever." Arthur declares eventually. "Each time you doubt it, ask for one."

Merlin nods slowly and he knows that Arthur is close enough to feel it.

"Now, go back to sleep and we'll never mention this moment –or any other that should arise– ever again. Do we have a deal?" Arthur's voice is tensed, as if he is trying to sound tougher than he really feels.

"Deal." Merlin mutters, his heart beating just a nod too fast.

Arthur smiles and crosses his arms while he bends his head back to touch Merlin's.

"Good night, Merlin." He whispers.

He feels Merlin moving and it's hard not to protest, but then there's Merlin's forehead resting between his shoulder blades and he's out of breath.

"Good night, Arthur," comes the muffled answer against the fabric of his shirt.

They're still dancing on the bridge between consciousness and dreams, still in this precious moment where they're sleepwalkers on the thin line of possibilities, when they both acknowledge that there is something new between us.

And they will have to adapt.

Fin.