Bruises Don't Bleed

Untitled part

It's fine. It means nothing. Sure, it hurts, but you're perfectly fine, at worst frustrated at Arthur.

You're just...

Merlin's foot tapped hard on the floor. He was fine. Nothing to worry about. Nothing for anyone to worry about. The bruises scattered across his arms and hands meant nothing. He'd always been taught that pain was blood. This wasn't blood, therefore, not pain.

Stupid, that's it, stupid.

Harder. Hit harder.

It hurts.

It hurts cause you're stupid.

His mind was fuzzy and scattered, packed with thoughts and emotions that shouldn't be there. He needed to feel something to drive them away. Arthur's resistance to touch meant... that feeling was usually pain.

There's gotta be something he hadn't done, there always is. Arthur always had something for him to do. He couldn't just be here, sitting around, whacking his stupid self with a stupid spoon. So what hadn't he done? He'd done the room, clothes, boots, armor-

Stables?

Arthur had asked him. Of course. The matter now is finding a place to hide his spoon. Arthur had found the last utensil, a fork, inside a cupboard. Fork was better.

Bang bang goes your head on the table.

He finally willed himself to stand up, the world suddenly rushing back in. He was tired. He was tired a lot.

Just hide the spoon and do the stables.

Right, focus. Arthur might be back soon, and if Merlin wasn't doing work... well, he'd be much more stressed out than he already was. Where could he put the spoon? Under the bed's too easily seen. Cupboard was discovered. Closet's too big, he didn't want to lose it again and have to steal more utensils. Somewhere he could remember, somewhere Arthur wouldn't look...

The floor. The floor was good. He could pry up a board, lot of them were pretty weak anyway. Yeah, he'd do that.

Be quick, Arthur'll come soon.

Merlin found a loose one in the corner near Arthur's cabinet. Maybe loose enough to pry up with his hands.

It was an ordeal resulting in at least three splinters, but he was hurting anyway, what's some extra pain? He decided to get them out before hiding the spoon, though. Gaius was bound to notice if his hand was bleeding in several places.

This was a mistake.

Ice shot up Merlin's body as a familiar voice echoed his name dangerously close to the door. The open door.

You're anxious about everything, but forget to close the door? While hiding something? You're more of a useless, stupid bitch than you ever imagined-

His mind would have continued ridiculing itself if not for the impending approach of Arthur's footsteps. Panic rose in his chest as he pulled down his shirt sleeve, trying to stuff the spoon in the floor simultaneously.

"What are you doing?"

Wanting to die-

"Uh, I, well, you see," he tried desperately for an excuse. "I was, um, checking the floorboards."

Why would you say that? What does that even mean?

Arthur's gaze became more confounded as he stared at Merlin, who was tugging at his sleeve, nervous.