Merthur one-shots!!

You're not worthless to me.

Merlin didn't know exactly what set it off.

Maybe it was always being second best, constant insults, or never getting any credit. Merlin didn't know. All he did know was that A. He had no reason to live anymore and B. If he did die nobody would care.

So then it began.

The self harm, the bulimia, he couldn't stop.

So he gave up.

One morning, he had to bring up Arthur's breakfast. He was now so weak he could barely lift the tray. One look at him, and Arthur began questioning Merlin [read: threatening].

"Merlin?" Arthur began.

"Hmm?" Merlins head snapped up, too quickly it seemed because the bedroom decided to start spinning.

"Are you all right?" Arthur asked gently, or tried to ask gently anyway.

"Why would you care?" Merlin asked snappishly. He had a pounding headache so bad he felt as if a bomb must be slowly exploding inside his head, making his ears ring.

"You never smile anymore. You don't even insult me anymore. You're as thin as paper and whiter than a ghost. We're friends, Merlin-"

"Friends?" Merlin asked softly, dangerously.

"Where were you when my father died, hm? Oh right- telling me not to cry over him. Where were you when I first told you of my magic? Oh yeah,- completely ignoring me except to tell me how betrayed you felt. All these times I've saved your life with something that could gotten me killed everytime? Never a word of thanks. I never get any credit, any thanks, and I'm still your servant. Whatever we are, Sire, we're not friends." He spoke softly, poisonously, but with an undertone of hurt.

Arthur looked like a kicked puppy. "Merlin- I"

"No! Don't even! You can't make it better! I'm too far gone! No saving me now!"

"Merlin! I had no idea! It wasn't intentional, I swear on Gwens grave! I would never do anything like that to you if I'd known! Merlin, I l-"

Whatever he was about to say, Merlin never knew, because the world was rapidly closing in on him and was turning into a whirlpool of dark.

In his sleep, Merlin was muttering.

Arthur was clasping his hand anxiously.

"M' worthless..." Merlin seemed to be sighing, he seemed to have the weight of the world of depression on his shoulders.

Merlin, seemingly unconscious, could still hear.

And in his dark, claustrophobic dungeon of depression, there came a small beam of hope and light.

"I love you, Merlin." Came the quiet, dejected voice.

"And you're not worthless to me."