I'm so sorry; I'm really awful, aren't I? It's been a year; a whole year since I updated this fic. In a way, it feels like it's been a whole lot longer than that. I've been awfully busy, I promise you and, as I have alluded to in earlier chapters; I've been writing a lot more original work. Honestly, I never thought I'd finish 'Big Brother', but the outcry from you all of late has changed that.
In a few days, my exams end, then I will have a few months of free time before I go to University. I am going to try to give you as much as I can in that time; maybe I'll even finish this.
You guys have really been amazing; I've seen loads of you recommend this fic on Facebook and Tumblr. I really appreciate it; it makes me very happy. This year I turn 18 and it seems mental to me that you guys love this fic which I started when I was 15, but I'm very happy that you do. As a warning, however, I should warn that my writing style has changed and (hopefully) improved since I started writing fanfiction. Of course, I shall endeavour for as much consistency as possible; I'm just terrified of disappointing you all!
The reason this chapter is so short is that I want to garner some sort of response. I've always hated writers who demand reviews from their readers; I will never do that. All I ask is some indication that you would like to see this fic finished, if that is what you want.
When Merlin wakes it feels like he's been through hell. It seems his body knows that he's fucked up; that he's done something wrong. Everything aches. Everything.
He vaguely considers not getting up. Just ending it all and quitting. He imagines the producers having to carry out his despondent body, too stubborn to get up and leave of his own accord. It's a tempting option, but an impossible one. To give up now would be disrespectful to Freya, disrespectful to everyone who had applied for the competition. And, besides, he needs this; he needs that money. Giving up was not an option.
He tosses and turns; just a week ago he would have got up, would have gone into the kitchen. Who knows who he would have met there.
The memories force him to cringe now; he covers he face in the pillow with a low groan. He tried not to think about it, because he knew where it went. Some great big cavern labelled 'Merlin's Sexuality', and he wasn't ready to fall in.
When Arthur wakes he's dreamt of Merlin, again. It's that flicker of a glance as they watched the sunset. It's his porcelain skin and his cheekbones and his stupidly large ears. It has become both a dream and a nightmare to him.
He vaguely considers not getting up. But that would mean not seeing Merlin again and he quickly jumps out of bed. He wanted to solve things, that was true, if only to stop this suffocating tension every time they so much as stood in the same room. What 'solving' meant, he wasn't quite sure yet, but he knew he'd figure it out along the way.
Before anything interesting can happen between our housemates, they are gathered together in the living room for an announcement. They sit in silence, still shocked and raw from the previous night. Luckily, the TV soon jumps to life.
"Good morning houseguests!"
They groan in some sort of half-ass reply.
"I have a very important announcement for every. Single. One of you." She punctuates her utterance with unnecessary pauses to try and ramp up the tension, but most of them couldn't care less at this point. The producers would probably be more bothered by this, if it wasn't for the fact that 90% of the audience was now watching for Merlin and Arthur and them alone.
"As you well know," She begins, unaware of the impatience of her audience. "Up until this point you have being playing as teams, or cliques. Well…"
She pauses to take a breath, but we all know what's coming already.
"No more. You are now, all, individuals." There were a few gasps, but not many. "You will vote as individuals and you will be eliminated as individuals."
Merlin's eyes flicker to meet Gwen's; his sole surviving teammate. Well, not anymore. In a way, he supposed it was a good thing; it would make their alliance with Lancelot, Gwaine and Elyan easier to maintain. Then again …
He felt a swooping in his stomach. This change also made it so much easier to betray alliances; now, he truly could trust no one.
They disperse quickly after the message is conveyed. Almost immediately after the television shuts down, they start calling houseguests into the diary room. Arthur is summoned first. He leaves quickly; he seems to understand that he's the elephant in the room.
"Good morning, Arthur." The voice behind the camera is new; female, lighter. Arthur's not sure if he should be concerned or comforted by this.
He's too dazed to reply, so she carries on regardless.
"Are you glad to no longer be part of a team, Arthur?"
His reaction is a slow, sluggish shrug. "I guess."
"Will you be keeping any of your former alliances?"
"I doubt it."
"Why not?"
The conversation continued with Arthur giving the minimum responses possible and, pretty soon, the voice got the clue. He wasn't up for talking, so he was told to leave and the next houseguest was called. He was too caught up in his own thoughts to hear the name, all he saw was the dark hair and blue eyes walking down the corridor. Somehow his legs kept moving as he walked past the cold and distant man. He tried, once again, to catch his eye and, once again, failed miserably. And as they passed each other, perhaps by accident or perhaps quite deliberately, their shoulders bumped against one another.
Merlin jerked back like he'd touched fire and gave Arthur a withering glare before scuttling away.
Merlin was pissed off. The day before he'd caught a glimpse of acceptance, moving on maybe, but he'd woken up with those feelings entirely gone and replaced by newer, rawer emotions. All he knew for certain was that he wanted to rip the eyes from Arthur's head. He wanted to tear the man limb from limb. He wanted to hurt him and he wanted to hurt him bad.
He'd never felt so angry at someone before, he'd never been great at maintaining grudges either. But this one… this one certainly wasn't going anywhere fast.
He finished up in the diary room as quick as he could and hurried back to his room, doing his best not to look out for the blonde-haired blue-eyed nuisance as he went.
The house was oddly quiet, oddly void of the usual bragging and nerves too. Everything felt strange and new. They were all just trying to get used to the new atmosphere. But they didn't have much time, because, before the day was out, a new head of house had to be picked.
Predictably, just after midday, they were dragged out into the garden, where a rather unusual contraption was waiting for them. It looked like a carousel, but no carousel Merlin had ever seen had seats quite like that. They were small and round, connected to the carousel by a single rope in their centre.
"Good morning, contestants." And there was the blonde again. "It's time to pick a new head of household and, guess what? You're all graduating!"
A few scattered laughs; but nothing resembling sincerity.
"Each of you will take a seat on the carousel; the winner is the last man, or woman, standing." She smirked. "But it won't be as easy as it sounds, you'll see what I mean. Arthur, as current HOH, you cannot participate."
Arthur nodded silently, lips pressed tightly together. He sluggishly made his way to the benches on the sidelines; eyes intently following the expression of a single figure.
"Contestants; take your seats!"
Merlin followed his friends towards the carousel. Each house member awkwardly slid onto a seat; clumsily slipping as they held onto the rope for dear life. All around they could hear the cameras moving; recording every embarrassing moment.
"The contest starts … now!"
On her final word, the carousel lethargically came to life. Slowly, it began to spin, smoothly at first, but then the pace started to pick up. Merlin tightened his grip on the rope; trying to distract himself from the squeals and groans coming from around him. It didn't work.
Someone screamed; he looked up for an explanation and was then hit square in the face by an ice cold spurt of water.
"Fuck!" He spluttered; his own curses followed by the curses of the other housemates. He felt his grip start to weaken; water making his hands less solid.
His eyes met Arthur's. He held on with all his might.
After 21 minutes, Vivian dropped from her seat.
"Shit." The blonde cursed and stomped away; there were a few snickers, but not many. Before they knew it, Morgause had dropped too. She made less noise than her friend.
Then the real competition began. The water becomes colder, if that were possible, and the spurts more frequent. But it gets worse; as he spins around, Merlin is winded by a blunt 'whack'. He cries out and looks back as the carousel carries him away; it's a man-sized diploma.
He groans. 'Fucking producers.'
The grunts that follow tell him he's not the only one to feel it. A few minutes later; Gwen falls. She smiles weakly to Merlin as she walks away.
It gets worse; the carousel starts to spin quicker. Merlin wonders briefly is he is going to throw up or fall or faint or all of the above. But he can feel those eyes burning into his shirt and he clings on tighter.
Morgana falls next; then Elyan. Merlin takes a quick look around; he's left facing off with Gwaine and Lancelot. It seems impossible that he could ever hope to beat either of them in a physical challenge, but he wants to try.
He couldn't afford to lose this; couldn't afford to have anyone but himself in that head of household room. He wasn't going to trust anyone but himself.
To his credit, Merlin lasts a long while. Arthur's eyes flicker back in a panic between his friend and the clock. Two hours since they started and Merlin's still hanging on. The housemates start to filter back into the house, but Arthur stays.
He'd never thought of Merlin as being particularly strong, never seen the endurance the man was currently displaying. He grinned; a pleasant surprise, indeed. But Merlin wouldn't win it; he knew that, Merlin probably knew that. And thank god; there's no way he'd get through nominations with Merlin as HOH.
After 2 hours and 22 minutes, Merlin drops. It was an accident really; he went to adjust his seating position and slipped on the water. He slumps on the ground for a few moments, before picking himself up. When he looks up, only Arthur is there; always with the eyes. The towels are right beside the blond; but Merlin's disdain for the man is only worsened by his sopping clothes and freezing skin. He turns away and exits through the adjacent French doors. He doesn't see Arthur's face as he leaves.
Before either Lancelot or Gwaine can give up, Arthur is called to the diary room. He's reluctant to leave the competition; eager to get on the good side of whoever wins, but he doesn't really have a choice.
"Good afternoon, Arthur." He hears a smile in the voice. "Can you give us your take on the competition?"
The blond sighs. "It looks tough, I'm glad I don't have to do it."
"How do you think everyone did?"
He shrugs. "I'm not surprised about who dropped early."
"And what are you surprised by?"
"If you want me to talk about Merlin , I'm not going to."
Pause. Arthur smirks; they obviously don't know what to do about that. His feelings towards Merlin had certainly softened; but he wasn't going to play this game anymore. His sexuality was not going to be a play for ratings; things had gone far enough already.
"Fine, you may leave."
When Arthur returns, Lancelot has won. But before anyone gets the chance to congratulate the new Head of House; he's already gone to shower. Arthur is too pleased to care; Lancelot had always been easy to get on with, he was fair too. No doubt he'd be nominating the people who really deserved it.
Which could still be him, he mused. There were still definitely some ill feelings over his week as HOH. He'd have to build some bridges.
Merlin was in the kitchen when the news broke. He was happy, that was true. Things really couldn't have worked out better for him. But, somehow, everything was muted by this issue with Arthur; nothing seemed quite so good without him around.
This was ridiculous; why did he feel like this? It was a questioned he'd asked himself nearly every day and, each time, the answer was wildly different. He didn't know anymore. He was embarrassed, he was sad, he was angry, he was sorry, he was forgiving and he was ruthless. Everything at once and, equally, nothing at all. Too distracted by contradicting feelings; he found that he could come to no conclusion.
He just had to stay focused; that what he kept telling himself. As Gwen bounded towards Lancelot for a hug; he forced a smile.
Lancelot calls Arthur into his room that evening. The blond is surprised at his friend's impatience, but follows him upstairs anyway. An awkward silence fills the room until they sit down.
"Look," Lancelot began with a sigh. "I don't like gossip and I don't like lying; so I'm going to tell you the truth."
Arthur nodded.
"You fucked up bad. You messed things up with Gwen and you really messed things up with Merlin." He paused. "But I don't think you're a bad guy, Arthur. I think you're keeping a lot to yourself, but I think that's to protect yourself, not to harm anyone else."
He pressed his lips together tightly.
"I don't want to put you up this week; I don't. But if you're going to pose a threat to my friends; I will." Lancelot paused for emphasis. "So, tell me, what exactly are you going to do?"
Gwen spent the night in Lancelot's HOH room. Merlin's bedroom felt cold and silent without her, but he didn't interfere. He wasn't quite sure if it was just circumstantial, convenient or if she'd felt this way all along; probably a combination of the three. But if she was happy; he was happy.
Or as close to happy as he could be.
He didn't see anything; just heard the door when it closed. He sat up in bed and, practically simultaneously, the lights turned on.
"We need to talk."