Seeing the Light (3/?)
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vigorliTitle: Seeing the Light
Author: Snow Days
Rating: PG 13 for language and general emotional trauma.
Pairing: OB/VM
Summary: When Orlando is diagnosed with an incurable, but treatable, disease, he loses all hope and love of life. Can Viggo help him see the path he strayed from? OB/VM
Feedback: Of course.
Disclaimer: Never happened. Not pretending it did. Don’t know anyone featured in this story, complete fiction, just for fun, etc. Also, I don’t have this disease, and any symptoms are researched, not experienced. I’m sorry if I hurt anybody with this material.
A/N: I have now succesfully rescued my computer from the Great Internet Crisis of 2009. Hurray!
I’ve also sped up the time it takes for a diagnosis for plot purposes. Please don’t use this story as a reference for a science project in case I may have gotten something wrong!
******
“Would you like me to ask these people to leave?” the doctor asked. Orlando thought for only a brief moment before shaking his head. They would find out anyway, and he needed the support, not to mention his makeup removed. “All right,” said the doctor quietly, clearly not approving of giving news in such a public area. He took a deep, calming breath, never liking to be the bearer of bad news. “I’m afraid you have tested positive for a chronic disease known as hypocortisolism.”
He paused for a reaction, but when only blank stares were directed his way, he elaborated. “Addison’s disease, adrenal insufficiency?” More blank stares. “Okay… Your body produces insufficient levels of cortisol, and in your case, insufficient aldosterone also. I’ll get an expert to talk to you later, but basically it causes low blood pressure, loss of appetite, loss of weight, discoloration of the skin, chronic fatigue, muscle weakness… quite a few things.” He paused again and watched Orlando’s reaction carefully.
Orlando breathed deeply and looked down. “But I’m perfect…” he whispered.
“I’m sorry?” asked the doctor.
Orlando looked up. “I can’t have this. I have to be perfect. How the hell am I supposed to play someone beautiful and graceful when I’ve got discolored skin and weight loss?” He sounded suddenly extremely aggressive.
“It’ll be fine, Orli,” said Peter quickly, sensing a storm in Orlando’s demeanor. “We have ways to work through this. We already have to make you a lot more pale than you already are, it shouldn’t make a difference!”
This did nothing to calm Orlando; in fact, it seemed to make him worse. “Well then what about all those months of training for this film?” he snapped. “I’m just going to lose all that, aren’t I?”
Viggo’s eyes widened. This was completely uncharacteristic for Orlando, speaking so rudely to anyone, let alone Peter Jackson. He wasn’t taking this news very well at all, but then again, if Viggo was told he’d lose all the strength he’d gained through long hours of training, he would probably go a bit crazy too. He was honestly worried about the film now; that bow took a huge amount of upper body strength to draw, and if Orlando lost all that strength, it would be that much harder to get a stunt double to shoot every arrow, then merge his arms to Orlando’s body. No, Viggo thought, it would be far too difficult.
As soon as the thought crossed his mind, he felt sickened. Orlando was obviously scared for both his health and his job. He didn’t need Viggo to make that worse. What he needed was a friend, and though Viggo wanted to be more than that, he would settle for being what Orlando obviously wanted and needed. He took Orlando’s hand. “It’ll be okay, Orli,” he said quietly, not really knowing if that was the right thing to say.
That one remark ended up with everybody being thrown out of the room but Orlando. The doctor turned to the small group assembled in front of him. They were glaring at him as though it was his fault Orlando had gotten sick. “I’m going to tell him in more subtle terms,” he said, “but the disease also causes depression and irritability. It shouldn’t be as bad as that usually. What he suffered on set was not normal; it was what is known as an addisonian crisis, where potassium levels are dangerously high and blood pressure is dangerously low. Suffering that so recently will have made him more upset, that on top of actually hearing the diagnosis for the first time…”
“When can he come home?” Viggo asked.
“Tomorrow at the earliest,” said the doctor. “You don’t simply catch this, something causes it. We need to test him for what that is. It shouldn’t take too long.”
Viggo glared at him slightly. Maybe Orlando did need to be here physically, but Viggo was more interested at the moment in helping his mental health. He had a sudden vision in his mind’s eye of Orlando, all alone, curled up in the hospital bed, crying. He had just been given news he was obviously very worried about, and Viggo was not at all comfortable with leaving him alone in an unfamiliar place at this time. But before he could tell the doctor exactly what he thought, the other man turned and, with an explanation of other patients to see, left the group standing outside the door behind which they could hear soft sobs breaking the silence.
TBC
I’m sorry this is a little shorter than usual, but it seemed like a good place to stop.
Author: Snow Days
Rating: PG 13 for language and general emotional trauma.
Pairing: OB/VM
Summary: When Orlando is diagnosed with an incurable, but treatable, disease, he loses all hope and love of life. Can Viggo help him see the path he strayed from? OB/VM
Feedback: Of course.
Disclaimer: Never happened. Not pretending it did. Don’t know anyone featured in this story, complete fiction, just for fun, etc. Also, I don’t have this disease, and any symptoms are researched, not experienced. I’m sorry if I hurt anybody with this material.
A/N: I have now succesfully rescued my computer from the Great Internet Crisis of 2009. Hurray!
I’ve also sped up the time it takes for a diagnosis for plot purposes. Please don’t use this story as a reference for a science project in case I may have gotten something wrong!
******
“Would you like me to ask these people to leave?” the doctor asked. Orlando thought for only a brief moment before shaking his head. They would find out anyway, and he needed the support, not to mention his makeup removed. “All right,” said the doctor quietly, clearly not approving of giving news in such a public area. He took a deep, calming breath, never liking to be the bearer of bad news. “I’m afraid you have tested positive for a chronic disease known as hypocortisolism.”
He paused for a reaction, but when only blank stares were directed his way, he elaborated. “Addison’s disease, adrenal insufficiency?” More blank stares. “Okay… Your body produces insufficient levels of cortisol, and in your case, insufficient aldosterone also. I’ll get an expert to talk to you later, but basically it causes low blood pressure, loss of appetite, loss of weight, discoloration of the skin, chronic fatigue, muscle weakness… quite a few things.” He paused again and watched Orlando’s reaction carefully.
Orlando breathed deeply and looked down. “But I’m perfect…” he whispered.
“I’m sorry?” asked the doctor.
Orlando looked up. “I can’t have this. I have to be perfect. How the hell am I supposed to play someone beautiful and graceful when I’ve got discolored skin and weight loss?” He sounded suddenly extremely aggressive.
“It’ll be fine, Orli,” said Peter quickly, sensing a storm in Orlando’s demeanor. “We have ways to work through this. We already have to make you a lot more pale than you already are, it shouldn’t make a difference!”
This did nothing to calm Orlando; in fact, it seemed to make him worse. “Well then what about all those months of training for this film?” he snapped. “I’m just going to lose all that, aren’t I?”
Viggo’s eyes widened. This was completely uncharacteristic for Orlando, speaking so rudely to anyone, let alone Peter Jackson. He wasn’t taking this news very well at all, but then again, if Viggo was told he’d lose all the strength he’d gained through long hours of training, he would probably go a bit crazy too. He was honestly worried about the film now; that bow took a huge amount of upper body strength to draw, and if Orlando lost all that strength, it would be that much harder to get a stunt double to shoot every arrow, then merge his arms to Orlando’s body. No, Viggo thought, it would be far too difficult.
As soon as the thought crossed his mind, he felt sickened. Orlando was obviously scared for both his health and his job. He didn’t need Viggo to make that worse. What he needed was a friend, and though Viggo wanted to be more than that, he would settle for being what Orlando obviously wanted and needed. He took Orlando’s hand. “It’ll be okay, Orli,” he said quietly, not really knowing if that was the right thing to say.
That one remark ended up with everybody being thrown out of the room but Orlando. The doctor turned to the small group assembled in front of him. They were glaring at him as though it was his fault Orlando had gotten sick. “I’m going to tell him in more subtle terms,” he said, “but the disease also causes depression and irritability. It shouldn’t be as bad as that usually. What he suffered on set was not normal; it was what is known as an addisonian crisis, where potassium levels are dangerously high and blood pressure is dangerously low. Suffering that so recently will have made him more upset, that on top of actually hearing the diagnosis for the first time…”
“When can he come home?” Viggo asked.
“Tomorrow at the earliest,” said the doctor. “You don’t simply catch this, something causes it. We need to test him for what that is. It shouldn’t take too long.”
Viggo glared at him slightly. Maybe Orlando did need to be here physically, but Viggo was more interested at the moment in helping his mental health. He had a sudden vision in his mind’s eye of Orlando, all alone, curled up in the hospital bed, crying. He had just been given news he was obviously very worried about, and Viggo was not at all comfortable with leaving him alone in an unfamiliar place at this time. But before he could tell the doctor exactly what he thought, the other man turned and, with an explanation of other patients to see, left the group standing outside the door behind which they could hear soft sobs breaking the silence.
TBC
I’m sorry this is a little shorter than usual, but it seemed like a good place to stop.
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