BBC Merlin rpf: "Cutting Room"; NC17; part 3 of 5
Title: Cutting Room
Rating: NC17
Pairing: Colin/Bradley
Warnings: A little bit of sex; a lot of angst; they get there
Spoilers: None (near future fic)
Disclaimer: I wish 'Merlin' was mine, but it isn't. And though any resemblance to persons living is entirely intentional, what I have them doing is entirely fictional. Unless it comes to pass, in which case I am psychic.
Author's Note: Just in case you're wondering, from the look of the first few lines, this isn't a script.
Summary: It's 2013 and the cameras are about to roll on the Merlin Movie - but can its two stars put aside the pain of their past and recapture the magic?
"CUTTING ROOM" (Part 3)
7. EXT. A BAR TERRACE, COMPIÈGNE, FRANCE. AUGUST 2013. EVENING.
The bar is busy, a hubbub of music and conversation. Coloured lights strung over vine-covered trellising cast a soft glow across the terrace. COLIN, TONY, RICHARD and BRADLEY are seated on a bench on one side of an oblong wooden table, with KATIE, ANGEL and RUFUS seated opposite. It’s a still, warm night and the candles on the table burn steadily.
ANGEL stands up.
ANGEL
My round. What does everyone want?
RICHARD
Not for me, thank you, my dear. It might not be a school night but it’s still way past my bedtime. So I’ll say goodnight.
RICHARD stands and TONY moves to join him.
TONY (groaning a little as he rises)
I’m afraid you’ll have to excuse me, too. It seems the stresses of the war against magic have caught up with me.
BRADLEY grins up at TONY.
BRADLEY
Admit it, Dad; you just can’t keep up in the fight scenes.
TONY clips BRADLEY lightly round the ear.
TONY
Bloody cheek. I’m still the king, sonny - and don’t you forget it. ‘Night all.
The gap on the bench between them yawned wide after Richard and Tony left. It seemed too obvious to slide into it, especially since Bradley made no move to do so. But leaving it there felt awkward - particularly when Katie went to the bar to help Angel with the drinks, which left Colin alone at his end of the table. He shifted uneasily, but didn’t slide any closer, as he listened to Bradley and Rufus’ conversation.
“You’re on the wagon then?” Rufus nodded at Bradley’s fruit juice.
Bradley shrugged. “Pretty much. You too?”
Rufus raised his glass of cloudy, home brewed lemonade. “Yep. Seven,” he paused, and raised a puzzled eyebrow, “maybe eight, years now. I still miss it sometimes, but I was never very good at moderation, you know?” He smiled.
“I was always a bit of a lightweight,” Bradley admitted ruefully.
“That why you stopped?”
Bradley shook his head. “Nah,” he twisted his glass back and forth between his fingers, “I did a foolish thing, the last time I was drunk.”
“Oh my god,” Katie exclaimed, putting another tumbler of juice down in front of Bradley and her own drink beside it, “how long is it since I heard a Bradley James confession? Budge up and give it out.”
She slid onto the bench and nudged Bradley along. Colin felt their knees touch, fleetingly, before Bradley’s was carefully removed. Still, his body grew painfully aware of Bradley sitting those polite few inches away.
“Yeah, come on Bradley,” Angel giggled, her normal empathy eroded by several glasses of wine, “I miss your drunken puppy impressions. Least you can do is tell us what happened.”
Colin remembered the crying jags, anonymous shags and crucifying hangovers that had peppered the months after they split. Alcohol had been a frequent escape for him and he supposed it might have been the same for Bradley - though in all honesty he hadn’t imagined it that way. Colin had never beaten himself up about those dark, embarrassing months afterwards - but it wasn’t something he talked about, either.
“Sod off, you nosy harpies,” Bradley muttered and Rufus laughed.
“Oooh,” Katie hammed, “did we interrupt a boys’ only moment? Don’t tell me you couldn’t get it up?”
“Very funny, McGrath,” Bradley let his head drop again.
“What then?” Katie nudged his shoulder. “I know you must have numerous moments of foolishness to choose from, Bradley - but you obviously have a particular one in mind.”
“If you must know, I told someone a secret.” Bradley’s voice was harsh and Colin felt his stomach lurch. Oh god. “I couldn’t say it to him sober, and that should have told me something, but...” He paused but no-one spoke. “I should never have shared it - not with him, anyway.” Bradley sighed heavily, took a swig of his juice and looked up at Rufus. “And that’s why I don’t drink anymore.”
“Aw, no fair, James,” Katie wheedled. “That’s half a story. You have to tell us what the secre-”
A pulse hammered in Colin’s temple. He stood too quickly, stumbled as he tried to extricate himself from the gap between the table and the bench, and knocked over the beer Angel had just bought him.
“Shit, Colin - are you ok? I’ll get you another one.” Angel was out from the other side of the table and at his side, holding his elbow and looking up into his face. Out of the corner of his eye Colin could see them all looking at him - all except Bradley.
“I...I’m sorry. I need the toilet. It’s OK, I’ll get one on the way back.”
He escaped to the gents, took a piss he didn’t need, washed his hands, and splashed his face and the back of his neck with cold water. The sick feeling in the pit of his stomach remained. He couldn’t go back to the table, not yet. Bradley had to have known how much it would hurt to hear him say that.
He stumbled out of the gents and took a left out of the door, instead of the right that led back to the terrace. There was a small garden, unlit and unused at night. A couple of benches hugged the wall of the building, and then grass led off from the shingle, disappearing into a shadowy border of shrubs and trees.
He sat on a bench and then thought better of it. One of them was bound to come looking soon - probably Angel - and he didn’t want to be found while he was still...shit. The sounds from the terrace faded as he moved further away, the grass giving under his feet. It was cooler underneath the trees and he sank down against one of them, the smell of loamy soil and leaf mould rising up around him. He propped his elbows on his knees and let his forehead rest against the heels of his hands.
He’d never forgotten that night. A night not unlike this one, Colin realised - which was probably why Bradley had been thinking about it. Except then it had just been the two of them. The summer they’d filmed series four had been unbearably hot, but they’d sat close all evening, enveloped in a haze of jasmine, sometimes talking animatedly, sometimes lapsing into silences that bordered on the uncomfortable. But always acutely aware of one another, of being on the edge of an entirely different conversation. For Colin it had been an exquisite torture - to be so near to something, someone, he wanted so badly - but he had long since decided that he would never be the one to make the move. Bradley knew he was gay and he knew Bradley was straight. And ok, Bradley might have been giving out increasingly mixed messages whenever he was around Colin - which had been most of the time - but Colin was not going to be the one to turn the straight boy’s head. That way lay madness.
Common sense had flown out the window, however, when they’d left the bar and an extremely drunk Bradley had followed Colin into his hotel room, sat down on his bed and told him he was in love with him. He’d been so stunned that Bradley had interpreted his frozen stare as rejection, and it had taken all of Colin’s strength to drag Bradley back from the door and sit him down again, hold him while he muddled his way through a long, gulping confession of his feelings. And while Bradley had poured out his heart, Colin’s mind had spun wildly, unable to quite believe what he was hearing. When at last Bradley quieted Colin had gone to the bathroom to get him a glass of water and when he’d returned... oh god... Colin groaned at the memory. When he’d returned, Bradley had been lying on his bed, naked. Bradley had held out a hand and Colin remembered how much it was shaking when he took it, how fucking scared Bradley looked as he sank down onto the bed beside him.
Colin had suspected, half hoped, that the evening might end in sex. Yes, it was madness but he was honest enough to admit to himself that he wouldn’t be able to turn it down if it was offered. But Bradley hadn’t offered him sex. He’d offered him love. And he’d had to get blind drunk to do it - which was why Colin found himself plying Bradley with several glasses of water, kissing him gently, and then holding him while he slept.
And in the morning, his conscience dampened by a six hour erection, no sleep, and a still naked but now sober Bradley, Colin had fucked his brains out.
Colin wasn’t sure how long he’d been sitting beneath the tree when he heard Bradley’s voice. Startled, he got rapidly to his feet but Bradley and Katie were already appearing around the corner of the building. Bradley marched straight out onto the grass, heading in his direction, with Katie scurrying in his wake.
“Why can’t you just leave me the hell alone?” Bradley flung the words over his shoulder, but Katie kept coming.
“Because that’s what you want, damn it. That’s what this whole wanky behaviour thing is about, isn’t it?”
There was no way out, other than straight past them, and in a moment of inglorious indecision, Colin shrank behind the tree.
Katie caught up with Bradley and reached for his arm, trying to tug him around to face her. He didn’t budge, so she came around him instead and stood glaring up at him. “You were sometimes a bit of a prig, Bradley - and fuck knows you could be annoying - but you were never cruel. What gives you the right-”
“Drop it, Katie, I’m warning you.” Bradley stared resolutely over her shoulder, towards where Colin was hiding, and Colin didn’t dare breath for fear he would catch the other man’s eye.
She put her hands on her hips. “Oh yeah - or you’ll do what? Get mad? Insult me? Hurt someone’s feelings with that bitter tongue of yours? Oh, excuse me,” she spread her arms wide, “you did all that already, didn’t you?
“I just want to know why. This was your choice, Bradley - you walked away, you came back. And in between you got rich and successful. So what the fuck is your problem?”
“My problem,” Bradley growled, “is that I don’t want to be analysed. It’s none of your, or anyone else’s, damned business.”
“You make it our business when you pull stuff like that,” she gestured back towards to terrace. “He’s our friend, for Christ’s sake, and we’d have to be blind not to see what your behaviour is doing to him.”
Bradley made a strangled noise and turned away from her. His profile was silhouetted against the faint light from the street lamp beyond the garden wall, his chin tilted up as he stared into the night sky. “It’s just as well he has everyone’s support then, isn’t it? Now, please, let me go back to Angel and I promise not to say another word to him all evening.”
“You use her like a shield,” Katie said bluntly.
“If I do then she doesn’t mind,” he countered. “She’s kind - genuinely kind, unlike most people who just pretend to be. And she doesn’t judge me.”
Katie remained silent and Colin’s eyes strayed to her. Her back was still to him, so he couldn’t see her face, but her head was tipped to one side as she studied the man standing so rigidly in front of her. Would she see what he finally saw? Because Bradley was very good at this and he got better all the time. If the Prince Charming looks didn’t stun his victims into insensibility, then the pissy attitude drove them away. It was no less a front than the hapless charm and goofball humour had been two years ago - but while that one had been designed to disguise, this one sought to distance.
And it had worked. They’d all taken Bradley on face value this time around, been only too willing, after a few fumbled attempts at bridging the gap, to exclude rather than include him. And Colin couldn’t really blame them, because he and Bradley made it so easy for them - Bradley by being obnoxious and him by continuing to be the cowardly bloody liar he’d been for the last two years. He couldn’t escape the fact that their willingness to believe the worst of Bradley was driven by their underlying certainty that he’d hurt Colin and abandoned them. They all believed that Bradley had walked out on the man who loved him and away from the television series that had brought them all together.
In a few weeks they’d all be done with the movie - no need to see each other again until next summer, and then only to slap on a smile for a couple of weeks for the publicity round when the film opened. It would be so much easier to let it go. No-one would be surprised if Colin refused a sequel. There was no need to put himself through this ever again.
And yet, waiting in the shadows of the garden, he found himself willing Katie’s sharp green eyes to see beyond the brittle beauty of the man who stood silently awaiting her judgment.
When it finally came, the sound of her voice was almost as much of a shock as her words. “What makes a man walk away like that, Bradley?”
Bradley’s head snapped around and the surprise was there on his face, too, for instant before he covered it with a sneer. “What, you’re asking me for relationship advice now, McGrath?”
She smiled thinly, looked down at her feet as she shook her head. “Touché. I admit there have been a few. But right now, I just want to know why you did it.”
She took a step towards him - slowly, quietly, as you would approach a nervous animal. “By the time you left, you’d let Merlin - and Colin - pretty much take over your life. And for all your swagger, you were bloody insecure about what would happen when it finished.” Bradley was staring at her now, locked in a battle of wills that he wasn’t prepared to lose, and Colin saw his mouth open in protest at Katie’s presumption. But she held up her hand. “No, I haven’t forgotten, Bradley. That night in un-cheval-ville, god-knows-where, and you totally pissed, weeping on my shoulder about maybe never getting a decent part again.
“So what makes a man walk away from the two things he depends most on in life?”
Bradley’s adam’s apple rose and fell as he swallowed and Colin’s mouth went dry. “You know the answer to that, Katie. I got a better offer.”
“Personally or professionally?”
A muscle twitched in Bradley’s cheek. “Maybe both. Not that it’s any of your business.”
Katie shook her head. “Now I know you’re lying. It was four months before you even auditioned for Compass Point and from what I’ve heard you pretty much lived like a monk. Still do.”
Bradley’s mask finally slipped. “You’ve been spying on me?”
“Hardly. Holliday was in LA when you arrived and Georgia’s been there most of the time since. I was even around for a couple of months myself, if you recall - though I assume you were too busy avoiding people to return my calls. Hollywood’s a gossipy town, you know that. You turn down too many party invitations for it not to be common knowledge that you keep yourself to yourself.”
“Well, if you know so much about my life, why the bloody hell do you need to interrogate me?” Bradley snarled, once again the cornered animal.
“Because I only know what you did, Bradley - not why.”
He stared at her, nostrils flaring, and she stared right back. Did she see it, Colin wondered, moving beneath that perfect golden skin, flickering behind those ghost-pale eyes? Like a chimera, Bradley haunted himself.
He behaved as if it were gone. That tantalising vulnerability that made Bradley so seductive - tempering his silliness and his occasional ignorance, soothing the sometime cluelessness that stung people but devastated Bradley when he realised it had. But it was all an illusion. Colin’s rejection hadn’t sucked Bradley’s vulnerability dry; it had driven it inwards. That was what rippled beneath Bradley’s sun-polished surface, clouded his eyes and stilled his hand. Beneath his immaculate shell, Bradley James hurt.
And suddenly Colin was sure that he wanted Katie, all of them, to see. Even if Bradley never forgave him - even if none of them did. He wanted Bradley to have the friends he’d stolen from him, to be happy again - even if that meant Colin walking away, and staying away.
Despite the bravado, Bradley couldn’t disguise the tremor in his voice when he finally responded. “What are you staring at, McGrath - forgotten how gorgeous I am?”
“Not going to work, James. Not anymore.” Katie moved another pace towards him and he sidestepped. She intercepted and the change in their positions meant that Colin could see, now, that a half-smile gentled the corners of her mouth. Her voice softened to match it. “I’m sorry I forgot what a good actor you really are.” She finally closed the gap between them and laid her palm flat against Bradley’s heart. Colin could see Bradley’s chest rising and falling rapidly beneath her touch and his own palm itched, his pulse throbbing an echo of the heartbeat under her hand.
Katie looked up into Bradley’s eyes. “When you want to tell me - if you ever want to tell me - I give you my word that I’ll listen...and I won’t judge.” Her hand dropped away and she turned and walked swiftly back towards the terrace.
Bradley stared after her for a few moments, his breathing gradually evening out, and then he turned to follow her. At the corner of the building he paused and, without looking back, he said quietly, “You’d better wait a few minutes before you come back. Wouldn’t do for Katie to think you’d been eavesdropping.”
8. EXT. CHATEAU DE PIERREFONDS, COURTYARD. SEPTEMBER 2013. DAY.
BRADLEY (dressed as Arthur) and RUFUS (as Swinburne) and their respective STUNT DOUBLES are rehearsing a fight scene on the chateau steps. A large group of SUPPORTING ARTISTS, fronted by several KNIGHTS OF CAMELOT, is gathered about them, responding to the action, under the instruction of the ASSISTANT DIRECTOR.
TONY (as Uther) watches worriedly from the top of the steps as, concealed behind a pillar towards the bottom of the flight, COLIN (as Merlin) is restrained by ANGEL (as Gwen).
JOE moves rapidly between the PRINCIPALS, the STUNT DOUBLES, STUNT CO-ORDINATOR (ANDREAS) and DIRECTOR OF PHOTOGRAPHY, instructing and making suggestions.
Beyond the perimeter of cameras, lights and microphones, various sized groups of FANS, TOURISTS and SCHOOL CHILDREN are gathered to observe the proceedings. Many watch avidly, others appear bored or puzzled, most of them are talking - we hear snatches of conversation in several different languages.
JOE
OK, I want you to both to really go for it this time. Rufus, remember Swinburne knows he has to win - he has to warn Morgana that their plans have been exposed. And Bradley, Arthur can’t afford to let Swinburne add his military expertise to Morgana’s magical powers in the battle ahead. But Arthur’s conflicted - for the sake of Camelot, he mustn’t let Swinburne escape, but if he kills him now, Arthur loses his one chance of proving Merlin’s innocence.
BRADLEY and RUFUS nod and assume their marks. JOE retreats back behind CAM and nods.
ASSISTANT DIRECTOR (through megaphone)
Quiet please. Marks everyone. Rolling.
CAMERA LOADER
Scene 179, set three, take two, mark.
JOE (though megaphone)
And action.
The heat bouncing up off the pale stone was uncomfortable and Colin felt the sweat slither down the back of his neck as he peered around the pillar. He had to admire the energy Bradley and Rufus put into every take - god alone knew how hot they must be feeling if he was perspiring just standing here.
Almost to order, Colin spotted Bradley lift his forearm swiftly to his brow. He danced back on his toes and away from his opponent, as he brushed the sweat from his eyes and flicked back the hair that clung wetly to his forehead. Rufus advanced, his eyes glowing menacingly as he swung for the prince. Bradley ducked under the strike, skittered down a couple of steps and leaped behind Swinburne but, before he could complete the killing blow to the man’s neck, Rufus flipped the grip on his sword and thrust it backwards, in a double handed attack designed to gut an opponent whose arms were raised to deliver a downstroke.
For a moment it looked as if Bradley had forgotten the move and Colin’s heart was in his mouth as Rufus’ blunted but heavy blade stabbed towards Bradley’s belly. But at the last moment, Bradley brought his weapon down in a lightning fast slash. Their blades clashed noisily, the two men struggling for dominance in their ungainly pose. And then Arthur’s grip on his sword slipped and Bradley and the weapon both went flying - he in an inglorious tumble down the steps, his sword in a skyward arc, blade flashing in the sun before it fell back to earth a few yards from its prostrate master.
Except, of course, they cut before the tumble - with Bradley dropping backwards, out of shot and onto a pile of crash mats, at the last second. The flight of the blade would be captured by the second unit, and Arthur’s fall by Bradley’s stunt double.
“That was good, thanks. Reset for another one, please.” Colin reached for some water and watched as Bradley and Rufus did the same, and had their make-up retouched, while Joe spoke with them. “We’re almost there, but the movement isn’t quite right at the end, Bradley.” He called Andreas over. “I need Bradley to be able to throw himself back a little harder at the end there, so it’ll cut believably to the stunt fall.”
“We can add thickness to the crash mats, but we can’t pad Bradley up any more or it’ll impede his movement in the fight,” Andreas said. “He can’t afford to lose any more flexibility unless we simplify the moves.”
“And Bradley,” said Bradley, pursing his lips and trying to blow the damp hair from his face, “is far too hot as it is, without adding any more layers, please. I’ll get heatstroke before I get a chance to fall down the chuffing steps. Just give me a nice soft platform to land on and I’ll be fine as I am.”
Joe looked at his expert. “It’s your call, Andreas.”
The shorter man gripped Bradley’s shoulder. “Bradley’s got the fight moves down pat. As long as the landing pad’s thick enough, he’ll be fine.”
“Thanks, mate,” Bradley grinned.
“Don’t thank me before you count your bruises tonight,” Andreas responded, “unless you get it right first time, of course.”
Joe was anxious about the changing quality of the light and the crew went at it with a vengeance, re-setting in record time. Then they rehearsed the sequence again, adding the bigger fall, which Bradley managed with ease.
Colin observed it all with heat-hazed placidity. He didn’t mind doing the odd stunt himself - it was far more enjoyable being involved that watching, after all - but he preferred the challenges of a dramatic scene. But he knew Bradley revelled in the physicality of his part, took as much pride in executing the choreography of a fight as he did in the more subtle aspects of his performance. And he was great at it. Colin had never grown tired of watching Bradley’s body at work - under any circumstances.
Rufus seemed to flag a little on the next take, but after a short break he nodded his readiness to go again and Joe called action. It was clear from the start that both men were determined this was going to be the one. They sprang at each other with renewed force, the clashes and near misses producing genuine gasps from the supporting actors and onlookers alike.
When the insurers analysed the footage afterwards, they could only conclude that in the intensity of the moment, Rufus got half a beat ahead of his opponent. But whatever the cause, Bradley was unbalanced going into the struggle. When he flung himself back and his body plummeted into the mats, his head slipped over the edge and hit the cobbles with a sickening crack.
There was a moment of eerie stillness, during which all Colin could see was Bradley lying like a puppet with its strings cut, and then all hell broke loose. Someone screamed and people started shouting as Colin ripped himself from Angel’s grip and ran for the man on the ground. He was oblivious of who he pushed aside to get there, barely registered the pain as his knees hit the cobbles when he flung himself down. Because Bradley was moving.
“Keep him still!”
“Someone support his neck!”
“Call the paramedics!”
Bradley’s head was in Colin’s hands, his lips moving soundlessly. Ignoring the chaos around him, Colin leant down and whispered, “It’s ok, Bradley. Try to lie still, please.” But the man was clearly disorientated, struggling to rise. Colin put his arms around him, restraining him as gently as he could. He cradled Bradley against his shoulder, horrified to find the hand he removed from the back of Bradley’s head wet with blood. Colin closed his eyes, tasting the clammy sweat on Bradley’s brow as he mouthed prayers he thought he’d long forgotten, over and over.
And then the paramedics were there, and Bradley was being lowered to the ground and strapped to a back board with a collar around his neck. Colin watched, silently, Bradley’s blood dripping from his hands onto the cobbles, as the man was wheeled away and lifted into the back of an ambulance. It was only when the doors closed and Colin could no longer see him that he called out, “Bradley!” and hands were reaching out to him, holding on to him, and he was fighting them, shouting Bradley’s name, because they were taking him away and leaving Colin behind, and his hands, his hands were covered in Bradley’s blood...
Rating: NC17
Pairing: Colin/Bradley
Warnings: A little bit of sex; a lot of angst; they get there
Spoilers: None (near future fic)
Disclaimer: I wish 'Merlin' was mine, but it isn't. And though any resemblance to persons living is entirely intentional, what I have them doing is entirely fictional. Unless it comes to pass, in which case I am psychic.
Author's Note: Just in case you're wondering, from the look of the first few lines, this isn't a script.
Summary: It's 2013 and the cameras are about to roll on the Merlin Movie - but can its two stars put aside the pain of their past and recapture the magic?
"CUTTING ROOM" (Part 3)
7. EXT. A BAR TERRACE, COMPIÈGNE, FRANCE. AUGUST 2013. EVENING.
The bar is busy, a hubbub of music and conversation. Coloured lights strung over vine-covered trellising cast a soft glow across the terrace. COLIN, TONY, RICHARD and BRADLEY are seated on a bench on one side of an oblong wooden table, with KATIE, ANGEL and RUFUS seated opposite. It’s a still, warm night and the candles on the table burn steadily.
ANGEL stands up.
ANGEL
My round. What does everyone want?
RICHARD
Not for me, thank you, my dear. It might not be a school night but it’s still way past my bedtime. So I’ll say goodnight.
RICHARD stands and TONY moves to join him.
TONY (groaning a little as he rises)
I’m afraid you’ll have to excuse me, too. It seems the stresses of the war against magic have caught up with me.
BRADLEY grins up at TONY.
BRADLEY
Admit it, Dad; you just can’t keep up in the fight scenes.
TONY clips BRADLEY lightly round the ear.
TONY
Bloody cheek. I’m still the king, sonny - and don’t you forget it. ‘Night all.
The gap on the bench between them yawned wide after Richard and Tony left. It seemed too obvious to slide into it, especially since Bradley made no move to do so. But leaving it there felt awkward - particularly when Katie went to the bar to help Angel with the drinks, which left Colin alone at his end of the table. He shifted uneasily, but didn’t slide any closer, as he listened to Bradley and Rufus’ conversation.
“You’re on the wagon then?” Rufus nodded at Bradley’s fruit juice.
Bradley shrugged. “Pretty much. You too?”
Rufus raised his glass of cloudy, home brewed lemonade. “Yep. Seven,” he paused, and raised a puzzled eyebrow, “maybe eight, years now. I still miss it sometimes, but I was never very good at moderation, you know?” He smiled.
“I was always a bit of a lightweight,” Bradley admitted ruefully.
“That why you stopped?”
Bradley shook his head. “Nah,” he twisted his glass back and forth between his fingers, “I did a foolish thing, the last time I was drunk.”
“Oh my god,” Katie exclaimed, putting another tumbler of juice down in front of Bradley and her own drink beside it, “how long is it since I heard a Bradley James confession? Budge up and give it out.”
She slid onto the bench and nudged Bradley along. Colin felt their knees touch, fleetingly, before Bradley’s was carefully removed. Still, his body grew painfully aware of Bradley sitting those polite few inches away.
“Yeah, come on Bradley,” Angel giggled, her normal empathy eroded by several glasses of wine, “I miss your drunken puppy impressions. Least you can do is tell us what happened.”
Colin remembered the crying jags, anonymous shags and crucifying hangovers that had peppered the months after they split. Alcohol had been a frequent escape for him and he supposed it might have been the same for Bradley - though in all honesty he hadn’t imagined it that way. Colin had never beaten himself up about those dark, embarrassing months afterwards - but it wasn’t something he talked about, either.
“Sod off, you nosy harpies,” Bradley muttered and Rufus laughed.
“Oooh,” Katie hammed, “did we interrupt a boys’ only moment? Don’t tell me you couldn’t get it up?”
“Very funny, McGrath,” Bradley let his head drop again.
“What then?” Katie nudged his shoulder. “I know you must have numerous moments of foolishness to choose from, Bradley - but you obviously have a particular one in mind.”
“If you must know, I told someone a secret.” Bradley’s voice was harsh and Colin felt his stomach lurch. Oh god. “I couldn’t say it to him sober, and that should have told me something, but...” He paused but no-one spoke. “I should never have shared it - not with him, anyway.” Bradley sighed heavily, took a swig of his juice and looked up at Rufus. “And that’s why I don’t drink anymore.”
“Aw, no fair, James,” Katie wheedled. “That’s half a story. You have to tell us what the secre-”
A pulse hammered in Colin’s temple. He stood too quickly, stumbled as he tried to extricate himself from the gap between the table and the bench, and knocked over the beer Angel had just bought him.
“Shit, Colin - are you ok? I’ll get you another one.” Angel was out from the other side of the table and at his side, holding his elbow and looking up into his face. Out of the corner of his eye Colin could see them all looking at him - all except Bradley.
“I...I’m sorry. I need the toilet. It’s OK, I’ll get one on the way back.”
He escaped to the gents, took a piss he didn’t need, washed his hands, and splashed his face and the back of his neck with cold water. The sick feeling in the pit of his stomach remained. He couldn’t go back to the table, not yet. Bradley had to have known how much it would hurt to hear him say that.
He stumbled out of the gents and took a left out of the door, instead of the right that led back to the terrace. There was a small garden, unlit and unused at night. A couple of benches hugged the wall of the building, and then grass led off from the shingle, disappearing into a shadowy border of shrubs and trees.
He sat on a bench and then thought better of it. One of them was bound to come looking soon - probably Angel - and he didn’t want to be found while he was still...shit. The sounds from the terrace faded as he moved further away, the grass giving under his feet. It was cooler underneath the trees and he sank down against one of them, the smell of loamy soil and leaf mould rising up around him. He propped his elbows on his knees and let his forehead rest against the heels of his hands.
He’d never forgotten that night. A night not unlike this one, Colin realised - which was probably why Bradley had been thinking about it. Except then it had just been the two of them. The summer they’d filmed series four had been unbearably hot, but they’d sat close all evening, enveloped in a haze of jasmine, sometimes talking animatedly, sometimes lapsing into silences that bordered on the uncomfortable. But always acutely aware of one another, of being on the edge of an entirely different conversation. For Colin it had been an exquisite torture - to be so near to something, someone, he wanted so badly - but he had long since decided that he would never be the one to make the move. Bradley knew he was gay and he knew Bradley was straight. And ok, Bradley might have been giving out increasingly mixed messages whenever he was around Colin - which had been most of the time - but Colin was not going to be the one to turn the straight boy’s head. That way lay madness.
Common sense had flown out the window, however, when they’d left the bar and an extremely drunk Bradley had followed Colin into his hotel room, sat down on his bed and told him he was in love with him. He’d been so stunned that Bradley had interpreted his frozen stare as rejection, and it had taken all of Colin’s strength to drag Bradley back from the door and sit him down again, hold him while he muddled his way through a long, gulping confession of his feelings. And while Bradley had poured out his heart, Colin’s mind had spun wildly, unable to quite believe what he was hearing. When at last Bradley quieted Colin had gone to the bathroom to get him a glass of water and when he’d returned... oh god... Colin groaned at the memory. When he’d returned, Bradley had been lying on his bed, naked. Bradley had held out a hand and Colin remembered how much it was shaking when he took it, how fucking scared Bradley looked as he sank down onto the bed beside him.
Colin had suspected, half hoped, that the evening might end in sex. Yes, it was madness but he was honest enough to admit to himself that he wouldn’t be able to turn it down if it was offered. But Bradley hadn’t offered him sex. He’d offered him love. And he’d had to get blind drunk to do it - which was why Colin found himself plying Bradley with several glasses of water, kissing him gently, and then holding him while he slept.
And in the morning, his conscience dampened by a six hour erection, no sleep, and a still naked but now sober Bradley, Colin had fucked his brains out.
Colin wasn’t sure how long he’d been sitting beneath the tree when he heard Bradley’s voice. Startled, he got rapidly to his feet but Bradley and Katie were already appearing around the corner of the building. Bradley marched straight out onto the grass, heading in his direction, with Katie scurrying in his wake.
“Why can’t you just leave me the hell alone?” Bradley flung the words over his shoulder, but Katie kept coming.
“Because that’s what you want, damn it. That’s what this whole wanky behaviour thing is about, isn’t it?”
There was no way out, other than straight past them, and in a moment of inglorious indecision, Colin shrank behind the tree.
Katie caught up with Bradley and reached for his arm, trying to tug him around to face her. He didn’t budge, so she came around him instead and stood glaring up at him. “You were sometimes a bit of a prig, Bradley - and fuck knows you could be annoying - but you were never cruel. What gives you the right-”
“Drop it, Katie, I’m warning you.” Bradley stared resolutely over her shoulder, towards where Colin was hiding, and Colin didn’t dare breath for fear he would catch the other man’s eye.
She put her hands on her hips. “Oh yeah - or you’ll do what? Get mad? Insult me? Hurt someone’s feelings with that bitter tongue of yours? Oh, excuse me,” she spread her arms wide, “you did all that already, didn’t you?
“I just want to know why. This was your choice, Bradley - you walked away, you came back. And in between you got rich and successful. So what the fuck is your problem?”
“My problem,” Bradley growled, “is that I don’t want to be analysed. It’s none of your, or anyone else’s, damned business.”
“You make it our business when you pull stuff like that,” she gestured back towards to terrace. “He’s our friend, for Christ’s sake, and we’d have to be blind not to see what your behaviour is doing to him.”
Bradley made a strangled noise and turned away from her. His profile was silhouetted against the faint light from the street lamp beyond the garden wall, his chin tilted up as he stared into the night sky. “It’s just as well he has everyone’s support then, isn’t it? Now, please, let me go back to Angel and I promise not to say another word to him all evening.”
“You use her like a shield,” Katie said bluntly.
“If I do then she doesn’t mind,” he countered. “She’s kind - genuinely kind, unlike most people who just pretend to be. And she doesn’t judge me.”
Katie remained silent and Colin’s eyes strayed to her. Her back was still to him, so he couldn’t see her face, but her head was tipped to one side as she studied the man standing so rigidly in front of her. Would she see what he finally saw? Because Bradley was very good at this and he got better all the time. If the Prince Charming looks didn’t stun his victims into insensibility, then the pissy attitude drove them away. It was no less a front than the hapless charm and goofball humour had been two years ago - but while that one had been designed to disguise, this one sought to distance.
And it had worked. They’d all taken Bradley on face value this time around, been only too willing, after a few fumbled attempts at bridging the gap, to exclude rather than include him. And Colin couldn’t really blame them, because he and Bradley made it so easy for them - Bradley by being obnoxious and him by continuing to be the cowardly bloody liar he’d been for the last two years. He couldn’t escape the fact that their willingness to believe the worst of Bradley was driven by their underlying certainty that he’d hurt Colin and abandoned them. They all believed that Bradley had walked out on the man who loved him and away from the television series that had brought them all together.
In a few weeks they’d all be done with the movie - no need to see each other again until next summer, and then only to slap on a smile for a couple of weeks for the publicity round when the film opened. It would be so much easier to let it go. No-one would be surprised if Colin refused a sequel. There was no need to put himself through this ever again.
And yet, waiting in the shadows of the garden, he found himself willing Katie’s sharp green eyes to see beyond the brittle beauty of the man who stood silently awaiting her judgment.
When it finally came, the sound of her voice was almost as much of a shock as her words. “What makes a man walk away like that, Bradley?”
Bradley’s head snapped around and the surprise was there on his face, too, for instant before he covered it with a sneer. “What, you’re asking me for relationship advice now, McGrath?”
She smiled thinly, looked down at her feet as she shook her head. “Touché. I admit there have been a few. But right now, I just want to know why you did it.”
She took a step towards him - slowly, quietly, as you would approach a nervous animal. “By the time you left, you’d let Merlin - and Colin - pretty much take over your life. And for all your swagger, you were bloody insecure about what would happen when it finished.” Bradley was staring at her now, locked in a battle of wills that he wasn’t prepared to lose, and Colin saw his mouth open in protest at Katie’s presumption. But she held up her hand. “No, I haven’t forgotten, Bradley. That night in un-cheval-ville, god-knows-where, and you totally pissed, weeping on my shoulder about maybe never getting a decent part again.
“So what makes a man walk away from the two things he depends most on in life?”
Bradley’s adam’s apple rose and fell as he swallowed and Colin’s mouth went dry. “You know the answer to that, Katie. I got a better offer.”
“Personally or professionally?”
A muscle twitched in Bradley’s cheek. “Maybe both. Not that it’s any of your business.”
Katie shook her head. “Now I know you’re lying. It was four months before you even auditioned for Compass Point and from what I’ve heard you pretty much lived like a monk. Still do.”
Bradley’s mask finally slipped. “You’ve been spying on me?”
“Hardly. Holliday was in LA when you arrived and Georgia’s been there most of the time since. I was even around for a couple of months myself, if you recall - though I assume you were too busy avoiding people to return my calls. Hollywood’s a gossipy town, you know that. You turn down too many party invitations for it not to be common knowledge that you keep yourself to yourself.”
“Well, if you know so much about my life, why the bloody hell do you need to interrogate me?” Bradley snarled, once again the cornered animal.
“Because I only know what you did, Bradley - not why.”
He stared at her, nostrils flaring, and she stared right back. Did she see it, Colin wondered, moving beneath that perfect golden skin, flickering behind those ghost-pale eyes? Like a chimera, Bradley haunted himself.
He behaved as if it were gone. That tantalising vulnerability that made Bradley so seductive - tempering his silliness and his occasional ignorance, soothing the sometime cluelessness that stung people but devastated Bradley when he realised it had. But it was all an illusion. Colin’s rejection hadn’t sucked Bradley’s vulnerability dry; it had driven it inwards. That was what rippled beneath Bradley’s sun-polished surface, clouded his eyes and stilled his hand. Beneath his immaculate shell, Bradley James hurt.
And suddenly Colin was sure that he wanted Katie, all of them, to see. Even if Bradley never forgave him - even if none of them did. He wanted Bradley to have the friends he’d stolen from him, to be happy again - even if that meant Colin walking away, and staying away.
Despite the bravado, Bradley couldn’t disguise the tremor in his voice when he finally responded. “What are you staring at, McGrath - forgotten how gorgeous I am?”
“Not going to work, James. Not anymore.” Katie moved another pace towards him and he sidestepped. She intercepted and the change in their positions meant that Colin could see, now, that a half-smile gentled the corners of her mouth. Her voice softened to match it. “I’m sorry I forgot what a good actor you really are.” She finally closed the gap between them and laid her palm flat against Bradley’s heart. Colin could see Bradley’s chest rising and falling rapidly beneath her touch and his own palm itched, his pulse throbbing an echo of the heartbeat under her hand.
Katie looked up into Bradley’s eyes. “When you want to tell me - if you ever want to tell me - I give you my word that I’ll listen...and I won’t judge.” Her hand dropped away and she turned and walked swiftly back towards the terrace.
Bradley stared after her for a few moments, his breathing gradually evening out, and then he turned to follow her. At the corner of the building he paused and, without looking back, he said quietly, “You’d better wait a few minutes before you come back. Wouldn’t do for Katie to think you’d been eavesdropping.”
8. EXT. CHATEAU DE PIERREFONDS, COURTYARD. SEPTEMBER 2013. DAY.
BRADLEY (dressed as Arthur) and RUFUS (as Swinburne) and their respective STUNT DOUBLES are rehearsing a fight scene on the chateau steps. A large group of SUPPORTING ARTISTS, fronted by several KNIGHTS OF CAMELOT, is gathered about them, responding to the action, under the instruction of the ASSISTANT DIRECTOR.
TONY (as Uther) watches worriedly from the top of the steps as, concealed behind a pillar towards the bottom of the flight, COLIN (as Merlin) is restrained by ANGEL (as Gwen).
JOE moves rapidly between the PRINCIPALS, the STUNT DOUBLES, STUNT CO-ORDINATOR (ANDREAS) and DIRECTOR OF PHOTOGRAPHY, instructing and making suggestions.
Beyond the perimeter of cameras, lights and microphones, various sized groups of FANS, TOURISTS and SCHOOL CHILDREN are gathered to observe the proceedings. Many watch avidly, others appear bored or puzzled, most of them are talking - we hear snatches of conversation in several different languages.
JOE
OK, I want you to both to really go for it this time. Rufus, remember Swinburne knows he has to win - he has to warn Morgana that their plans have been exposed. And Bradley, Arthur can’t afford to let Swinburne add his military expertise to Morgana’s magical powers in the battle ahead. But Arthur’s conflicted - for the sake of Camelot, he mustn’t let Swinburne escape, but if he kills him now, Arthur loses his one chance of proving Merlin’s innocence.
BRADLEY and RUFUS nod and assume their marks. JOE retreats back behind CAM and nods.
ASSISTANT DIRECTOR (through megaphone)
Quiet please. Marks everyone. Rolling.
CAMERA LOADER
Scene 179, set three, take two, mark.
JOE (though megaphone)
And action.
The heat bouncing up off the pale stone was uncomfortable and Colin felt the sweat slither down the back of his neck as he peered around the pillar. He had to admire the energy Bradley and Rufus put into every take - god alone knew how hot they must be feeling if he was perspiring just standing here.
Almost to order, Colin spotted Bradley lift his forearm swiftly to his brow. He danced back on his toes and away from his opponent, as he brushed the sweat from his eyes and flicked back the hair that clung wetly to his forehead. Rufus advanced, his eyes glowing menacingly as he swung for the prince. Bradley ducked under the strike, skittered down a couple of steps and leaped behind Swinburne but, before he could complete the killing blow to the man’s neck, Rufus flipped the grip on his sword and thrust it backwards, in a double handed attack designed to gut an opponent whose arms were raised to deliver a downstroke.
For a moment it looked as if Bradley had forgotten the move and Colin’s heart was in his mouth as Rufus’ blunted but heavy blade stabbed towards Bradley’s belly. But at the last moment, Bradley brought his weapon down in a lightning fast slash. Their blades clashed noisily, the two men struggling for dominance in their ungainly pose. And then Arthur’s grip on his sword slipped and Bradley and the weapon both went flying - he in an inglorious tumble down the steps, his sword in a skyward arc, blade flashing in the sun before it fell back to earth a few yards from its prostrate master.
Except, of course, they cut before the tumble - with Bradley dropping backwards, out of shot and onto a pile of crash mats, at the last second. The flight of the blade would be captured by the second unit, and Arthur’s fall by Bradley’s stunt double.
“That was good, thanks. Reset for another one, please.” Colin reached for some water and watched as Bradley and Rufus did the same, and had their make-up retouched, while Joe spoke with them. “We’re almost there, but the movement isn’t quite right at the end, Bradley.” He called Andreas over. “I need Bradley to be able to throw himself back a little harder at the end there, so it’ll cut believably to the stunt fall.”
“We can add thickness to the crash mats, but we can’t pad Bradley up any more or it’ll impede his movement in the fight,” Andreas said. “He can’t afford to lose any more flexibility unless we simplify the moves.”
“And Bradley,” said Bradley, pursing his lips and trying to blow the damp hair from his face, “is far too hot as it is, without adding any more layers, please. I’ll get heatstroke before I get a chance to fall down the chuffing steps. Just give me a nice soft platform to land on and I’ll be fine as I am.”
Joe looked at his expert. “It’s your call, Andreas.”
The shorter man gripped Bradley’s shoulder. “Bradley’s got the fight moves down pat. As long as the landing pad’s thick enough, he’ll be fine.”
“Thanks, mate,” Bradley grinned.
“Don’t thank me before you count your bruises tonight,” Andreas responded, “unless you get it right first time, of course.”
Joe was anxious about the changing quality of the light and the crew went at it with a vengeance, re-setting in record time. Then they rehearsed the sequence again, adding the bigger fall, which Bradley managed with ease.
Colin observed it all with heat-hazed placidity. He didn’t mind doing the odd stunt himself - it was far more enjoyable being involved that watching, after all - but he preferred the challenges of a dramatic scene. But he knew Bradley revelled in the physicality of his part, took as much pride in executing the choreography of a fight as he did in the more subtle aspects of his performance. And he was great at it. Colin had never grown tired of watching Bradley’s body at work - under any circumstances.
Rufus seemed to flag a little on the next take, but after a short break he nodded his readiness to go again and Joe called action. It was clear from the start that both men were determined this was going to be the one. They sprang at each other with renewed force, the clashes and near misses producing genuine gasps from the supporting actors and onlookers alike.
When the insurers analysed the footage afterwards, they could only conclude that in the intensity of the moment, Rufus got half a beat ahead of his opponent. But whatever the cause, Bradley was unbalanced going into the struggle. When he flung himself back and his body plummeted into the mats, his head slipped over the edge and hit the cobbles with a sickening crack.
There was a moment of eerie stillness, during which all Colin could see was Bradley lying like a puppet with its strings cut, and then all hell broke loose. Someone screamed and people started shouting as Colin ripped himself from Angel’s grip and ran for the man on the ground. He was oblivious of who he pushed aside to get there, barely registered the pain as his knees hit the cobbles when he flung himself down. Because Bradley was moving.
“Keep him still!”
“Someone support his neck!”
“Call the paramedics!”
Bradley’s head was in Colin’s hands, his lips moving soundlessly. Ignoring the chaos around him, Colin leant down and whispered, “It’s ok, Bradley. Try to lie still, please.” But the man was clearly disorientated, struggling to rise. Colin put his arms around him, restraining him as gently as he could. He cradled Bradley against his shoulder, horrified to find the hand he removed from the back of Bradley’s head wet with blood. Colin closed his eyes, tasting the clammy sweat on Bradley’s brow as he mouthed prayers he thought he’d long forgotten, over and over.
And then the paramedics were there, and Bradley was being lowered to the ground and strapped to a back board with a collar around his neck. Colin watched, silently, Bradley’s blood dripping from his hands onto the cobbles, as the man was wheeled away and lifted into the back of an ambulance. It was only when the doors closed and Colin could no longer see him that he called out, “Bradley!” and hands were reaching out to him, holding on to him, and he was fighting them, shouting Bradley’s name, because they were taking him away and leaving Colin behind, and his hands, his hands were covered in Bradley’s blood...