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“You don’t like boys. You like girls,” Uther had Arthur’s arm pinned behind him, and his drunken breath wet Arthur’s ear. “You like girls. You are not gay.”
Arthur repeated it. I am not gay. I am not gay. He felt pathetic for giving in to his father and denying who he was, but he was starting to lose feeling in his arm. Uther laughed at him and threw his son to the floor. While Arthur was down, Uther kicked him in the side. Then again, and then again. He kicked and kicked and took swigs of vodka in between each kick, like some premeditated rhythm. Arthur cowered on the floor, covering his face with his arms and curling up.
“Look at you, you weakling. Look at how you cower. You’re supposed to stand up and fight, not lay down and take the beating, you fucking aberration. I didn’t raise my son to be such a coward!” Uther kicked, his boot digging into Arthur’s sides. Arthur wondered how he was going to explain those bruises again, and he cried silently, waiting for the pain to just end.
“What, you want me to stop? Yeah, well, you selfish boy, I want you to stop pretending to be gay. Chose to be normal again, and maybe then I’ll stop,” Uther snarled, and raised his foot higher, “until then…”
Arthur awakes with a start. He’s covered in sweat, and his heart is beating much too fast. It’s harder to take in a breath, and Arthur’s starting to feel cold when Merlin wakes.
“-thur?” Merlin murmurs, turning to him. Arthur shakes his head and wraps his arms around his chest. Merlin sighs and sits up, facing Arthur.
“What happened? What was it?” Merlin whispers, slowly placing a hand on Arthur’s knee. Arthur knows why Merlin’s so hesitant, and he shudders. One time he’d woken from a dream and Merlin had tried to touch him. Arthur had flung him across the room in panic. He’d needed stitches.
“It was… my father, again,” Arthur sighs, hating how helpless he feels. His father was gone, drank himself to death, he couldn’t hurt him, and yet Arthur still felt scared when his father’s name was mentioned. Merlin nods, rubbing Arthur’s knee. Arthur likes the pressure, and he takes Merlin’s hand, holding on tight.
“Arthur, remember. He can’t hurt you, not anymore. He can’t get you again,” Merlin reminds Arthur, and Arthur nods, trying to listen. He knows that his father isn’t a problem anymore, but in a way he still is. He still plagues Arthur’s nightmares. Arthur can still feel all the bruises he had gotten from his father’s drunken rages. A particularly bad beating had sent Arthur to the emergency room for internal bleeding, and he’d passed the doctors’ concerned remarks off and said “I play rugby rough.”
“I know he can’t, Merls, but sometimes it’s like he’s there, telling me I’m pathetic, that I’m a monster,” Arthur whispers, shuddering. He hated showing Merlin how much power his late father still had over him, even if they were married. Merlin nods, understanding, and moves closer to Arthur.
“I’m here, and I’m telling you are far from pathetic. You are strong, and caring, and sweet, and obnoxious,” Merlin presses a kiss to Arthur’s hand after each adjective, “and I definitely know you are not a monster.” Arthur smiles, a small, sad smile and looks at Merlin affectionately. The nightmares had stopped for the most part since he’d married Merlin, and nights like now happened rarely.
“You’re not allowed to think I’m a monster, it’s part of your job as my husband,” Arthur argues, smiling. He tightens his grip on Merlin’s hand, and the boy crawls into Arthur’s lap.
“Hey! If you’re a monster, what does that make me for loving you?” Merlin retorts, grinning. Arthur grins back and sighs. He hugs Merlin tighter against his chest and lays his head on Merlin’s. They sit like that for a while before Merlin pushes on Arthur’s chest. Arthur sits up and looks at Merlin.
“You better now?” He asks quietly, and Arthur nods. The fear’s still there, in his stomach, but it’s buried by something else. Merlin smiles and lays his head back on Arthur’s chest.
“I just want you to know, what he did to you wasn’t okay. He treated you horribly and that’s not okay. I don’t know what could make a father hurt his own son, but from what you’ve said, he wasn’t much of a father. I know he’s gone now, but the fact that he still hurts you tears me apart. I wish I could take all those memories away, to keep them for you so you don’t have to relive them every day.
“If he was here now, I would sit him down and have a very serious talk with him. I for one can not respect a man who does that to his son, and I’d tell him that. You didn’t deserve what he did to you, Arthur. He was mean, and opinionated, and you didn’t deserve what you got. Don’t ever think you did. He was a horrible father, and we just have to remember, he can’t hurt you now,” Merlin pleads, and Arthur’s heart grows for the boy in his arms. He hugs Merlin tighter, afraid of letting him go in case he were to vanish.
“Stay with me, even if I am a monster,” Arthur whispers into Merlin’s raven hair, and he buried his face in Merlin. Merlin nods
“Why would I leave?” Merlin chuckles into Arthur’s chest. “You may be a monster, but you’re my monster, you prat.”