Slippery Slope 9/?
Aug. 22nd, 2005 05:03 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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vigorliTitle: Slippery Slope
Chapter: 9/?
Author: Rocketbalm
Pairing: OB/VM
Rating: R for language
Summary: the three R’s -- Revelation, Revulsion and Rebuke
Content/warnings: AU, steeped in angst
Spoilers: None.
Posted: Mirrormere, VOLA and LJ
Disclaimer: Blatantly not true, fiction
fic•tion (fik shen)
An imaginative creation or a pretense that does not represent actuality but has been invented. A lie. A literary work whose content is produced by the imagination and is not necessarily based on fact.
Chapter 9
Viggo had known that Orli had been awake most of the night, only dozing fitfully. He had kept a silent vigil, feeling the warmth of Orli in his arms as emotions came off him in voiceless waves. In the predawn light he felt Orlando imperceptibly tense and pull away from him, leaving as soundlessly as he came. Viggo remained still, as if asleep, and felt Orlando press his soft lips to the skin below his ear, unknowingly brushing and the wetness of his tears against Viggo’s cheek. Reluctantly, Viggo let him slip quietly out the door, as if this night had been nothing more than dream. Whatever Orli was working through, he obviously needed time and space alone to do that. Reaching up, Viggo touched the dampness on his cheek and lost in thought, brought fingers to his lips to taste the salty liquid. Sucking gently on his fingertips, Viggo was just grateful that Orlando had allowed him to comfort and hold him through the night.
Lying with Orlando in his arms had felt so right; frighteningly so. Every fiber of his being was drawn to the younger man as he was swept away in a vortex of emotions, until he teetered between love and logic. There were so many things he still need to talk to Orlando about and so many things he still needed to know. It was more than just the scars, both physical and psychological that he needed to share; it was trust and love and healing, a foundation he wanted to build. Where do you start? How do you tell someone you hope to be your future lover that your former lover tried to kill you; that you hadn’t shared intimacy with anyone since then. Where do you begin to explain the nightmares that wake you, the pain that haunts you and the knowledge that someday he’ll be released and this time you might fail to protect those you love?
He listened to the sounds of Orlando moving about in the loft; he’d give Orlando today and then tomorrow they would talk, or at least he would. Today Orlando had made plans with Dom and Elijah to roam the village all day. Viggo had planned to work in the studio until late afternoon; before he headed up the mountain to hang and light the picture he was donating to the auction. There were plenty of details he would need to take care of while he waited for Orlando and the boys to arrive later in the evening. Being apart all day would be a good thing, give them time to reflect independently -- tomorrow would come soon enough, today they would have to themselves.
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Orlando woke after fitfully dozing with Viggo all night; the caress of Viggo’s breath on his skin, the warmth of his body, and the arm that encircled him felt lighter than the weight on his conscious. Like a thief in the night, he crept from the room without waking the older man, lingering only to place a kiss on the Viggo’s outstretched neck, just below his ear. With a heavy heart he made his way back to the loft, showered, dressed and quietly padded downstairs. When Viggo didn’t rise at his regular time, Orlando wrote him a note, and headed out the door calling Dom to meet him on the way to the village. Drawing the cold air into his lungs as he navigated the drive, he hoped that the crispness of the day would help him clear his mind as he focused on the beauty and serenity of the early morning, enjoying the vigor of the walk.
Hours later, Orlando lay on his bed slowly being blanketed by darkness, watching the pale winter light turn to dusk, as a one by one, lights winked on in the valley. His thoughts drifted to the relaxed day they spent wandering the village, after Dom and Elijah had picked him up, chilled from his early morning walk. They had explored shops, visited the gallery that Viggo co-owned and sipped lattes as they strolled virtually undisturbed, if not unnoticed. Orlando had been grateful that the boys had understood Orlando’s need for quiet reflection and didn’t pry or push him to talk. Now back home he realized how much he missed the older man that day and he wavered in his certainty that he’d be able to let go of Viggo before he hurt the artist in some way. Spending the day with his friends had raised more questions than it had answered.
Dom and Elijah had always been fun, he always felt included and never like a third wheel. This time was different though. This time Orli watched the pair wistfully; for the first time felt like he was missing something in his life. It seemed that overnight he had become more aware of things that he had taken for granted in their relationship; the way Dom brought Elijah’s hat along even after he said he wouldn’t need it, and lovingly put it on his lover without so much as an ‘I told you so’ ten minutes later when Elijah shivered with cold; how Elijah saw that Dom’s meal came with olives that he disliked and without a word cleared room on his own plate for the untidy pile of rejects; he noticed every reassuring touch and secret smile that passed between them. Random nothingness that meant so much more, meant they had a connection that went beyond words, an understanding that transcended explanation and a love that had woven it’s way through the fabric of their relationship leaving no doubt that each gesture and look held a deeper meaning. It made Orlando feel empty knowing he had never truly felt that with anyone. He had had a connection with Stuart, though it was based on fear not love.
Orlando shuddered, not ready to examine those months of his life, yet knowing he had to. He remembered the kindness Stuart showed him when Sean had returned to England, remembered feeling cared for and safe – not unlike how Viggo made him feel now, yet so completely different. He remembered how kindness gave way to intimidation and what was once safe became something to be feared. Orlando began to feel the swell of anger take hold of him, stopping him short. When had he become so easily angered, thinking back to his numerous outbursts in the last few days. He recognized on some base level that he was slowly unraveling, slowly losing control, unsure which feelings were real and his and which were manufactured for the different versions of himself he portrayed to the world. He lay, with his arms outstretched, eyes closed, watching the patterns of colour swirl beneath his eyelids mirroring the turbidity of his own confused emotions.
It seemed that every time he grasped a thread of understanding he would follow it to find a tangled mess with out a beginning or end, leaving him more bewildered than ever. Every thought inevitably led back to Viggo. Orlando wanted to bask in his kindness and understanding; he hungered for his love and acceptance; he ached with the need for intimacy, both physical and emotional and yet he was unable to open himself up, give himself over to the possibility. He felt what he thought was love for Viggo but wasn’t sure he could trust that you could you fall in love in less than a week. If it was love, he felt it was also an impossible challenge; one he was destined to fail and condemned to hurt and be hurt. Silent tears slid down Orlando’s face, as he let his emotions war within himself until he dozed lightly in the enveloping darkness.
On the dresser his phone began it’s incessant chirping, the third time in the last ten minutes. Weighed down by his runaway thought process, Orlando had tried to ignored it. Finally it stopped and Orlando was bathed in silence once more. Almost wishing he hadn’t agreed to be part of the Charity Auction with Viggo but wanting nothing more than to see him, he roused himself to get ready for the evening.
Freshly shaved and showered, he dressed carefully; a plum coloured silk shirt, black pants and a casual jacket, around his neck placed his charms and wound a soft black scarf to complete the subdued ensemble. He took two of his pills and slipped two more into his pocket for later as he grabbed his phone, not bothering to check who had called earlier. Once downstairs he got himself a beer and wandered the living room, aimlessly looking at books and photos, absorbing the minutia of Viggo’s life while he waited for the Hobbits to arrive. His phone began to ring again as the he heard the hum of Dom’s car pull up the drive. Ignoring his phone once more he pulled open the door, eager for a distraction from himself.
Elijah emerged first, hair spiked and blue eyes impossibly wide with his long wool coat pulled tight against he cold. “Ready for a night on the mountain, Orli? Should be romantic riding the chairlift in the dark.” He grinned as he pushed past Orlando and into the house. “Yeah just what I need, to be stuck on a swaying frozen piece of metal while you two make out and keep each other warm next to me.” He teased, thinking how nice it would have been to ride up with Viggo, and looking forward to the end of the evening when they could cozy up together for the ride down. Then realizing where his mind was going he tried hopelessly to back-track to no avail. The thought of him snuggled next to Viggo, high above the snow, in the dark with nothing but the moon to light their way was intoxicating and not easily forgotten. Looking back to the car for Dom the blond was busy answering his phone as he closed the car door, standing in the drive laughing with who ever had called. Leaving the front door open a crack, Orlando followed Elijah in and offered him a beer while they waited for Dom. The two were lounging on the sofa when Dom finally made his way in.
“Hey Orli you big wanker, why aren’t you answering your phone?” Dom barked as he vaulted over the sofa and landed on Orli who barely kept his beer upright during the attack. “Vig just called and said he couldn’t get a hold of you. I think he was a little worried.” Dom pulled Orlando’s shirt up and blew a raspberry on the hairless skin beneath, sending Orli into paroxysms of giggles. “Wanted to know when we were leaving. I think he misses our Elf.” He added with a grin. “He also wanted to remind us that we are to be on our best behaviour until after your help in the auction is no longer required. He was quite specifically requested that we limit our alcohol consumption to afterward. Probably figured it wouldn’t look good for us to be falling down drunk, when all the disabled kids were able to stay upright.” He smirked and grabbed Orli’s beer and took several large gulps and added, “If this is our last one, we better make the best of it.” Orlando grabbed his beer back and shoved Dom onto the floor as his phone started ringing again. Dom picked himself up and settled next to Elijah who was just as reluctant to share his bottle with him. “That’s probably Vig again, you better answer before he sends a search party after you.”
Orli flipped open his phone. “Yeah, I’ll be good, I promise.” He said into the phone expecting Viggo to laugh with him.
“Orli?” Came a confused breathy definitely non-masculine voice from the other end.
“Fuck.” Orlando wanted to throw the phone as far out into a snow bank as he could but remained frozen on the spot listening to one of the two people he would be happy never to speak to again in his life. Dom and Elijah watched as Orli went pale, as he listened brow furrowed, murmuring responses infrequently. As the one sided conversation stretched into minutes, they saw Orli become more and more agitated as he paced, banging into the coffee table twice a he clenched his free hand into a fist repeatedly. Both men looked at each other, Dom mouthed ‘Kate?’ to Elijah who nodded as they watched Orlando open the liquor cabinet and pour a tumbler full of something amber then promptly drinking half, before slamming the glass on the table, sloshing the liquid over the rim.
“That’s amounts to blackmail Kate, you are that aware of that, right?” Orlando growled into the receiver.
“I see. Then I guess I will give you an answer by the weekend.” His voice was colder than the icicles on the firs outside. With exaggerated precision Orlando closed his phone and set it next to the glass on the table, and downed the remain liquid with a grimace. He stared at the empty glass in his hand and looked as if he were about to throw it when Dom caught his arm firmly and put the glass back on the table. “Orli?” Elijah asked warily.
“Scheming bloody bitch!” Orlando roared slamming his fists into the table top unsettling the vase of flowers enough to cause a cascade of petals to drift downward. “What is it Orli, what did she want?” Dom asked trying to get a handle on what had happened. Orlando re-filled his tumbler with alcohol as Dom waited for some of the rage to dissipate. “She said she’s been calling for three days, which she has, and if she wasn’t such a stupid cunt she would have taken that to mean I didn’t want to talk to her. Her agent has been pestering Mike to see if there is some way we can spin this a lovers spat and create some sort of reconciliation. Of course, Mike has continue to hold to a firm ‘no’ on that. So the little bitch decides to take matters into her own hands and concoct a plan that amounts to nothing more than black mail. If I don’t reconcile with her, beg for forgiveness, act contrite in the media and all sorts of other stuff and nonsense, she will send the press to New Zealand to do a little digging. Apparently, some of my nightmares have been quite vivid and she has fairly good idea of what happened but has no proof. If I agree to stay with her and act the loving and repentant boyfriend until her next movie comes out and after the next awards season, she will drop the whole thing and let me go, free and clear.” Orlando drained the glass as his stomach heaved and growled at the introduction of more booze. Realizing that the amount of alcohol was soon going to have a stupefying affect on his friend, Elijah searched the cupboards for food. Finding a loaf of French bread, he began breaking off hunks of the doughy substance and passing them to Orlando, who devoured them ravenously.
“Orli, she can’t hold you hostage like that man. The bitch won’t find anything in New Zealand.” Elijah rubbed Orlando’s back soothingly. “No one knows anything, hell Dom and I know some but not all of what happened; Sean knows the most out of any of us and he’d kill anyone who even asked the question.” Elijah reasoned.
“People could speculate Elijah, there were signs, people whispered. Hell the whole last month of filming was a constant chess game to keep the two of us apart as much as possible. Rumour and innuendo is all they need to go on. And your forgetting the one person that could, and most likely would fuck me over.” Orlando looked at the two of them, not wanting to voice to the name as if saying it out loud would give it legitimacy.
“Stuart wouldn’t dare Orlando. Sean put the fear of all that is unholy into him, that I don’t think he’s forgotten. As for people on set, none of them would betray you Orli. You were always kind and thoughtful to everyone, they would rather poke out an eye with a sharp stick than to gossip about you. Not to mention that Peter is a god in N.Z. and they most definitely wouldn’t mess with any of his own, of which, you are one.” Dom reasoned, trying to get Orli to calm down. Feeling his legs tremble, Orlando collapsed in a chair.
“It’s been a long time Dom, Stuart is not exactly a shrinking violet. He’s more than capable of dropping some well placed comments.” Orlando whispered dejectedly.
“Your wrong Orli.” Seeing Orlando shake his head Elijah continued. “No you are. Listen to me, Stuart is a fucking coward, nothing more than a school yard bully. If he commented on anything except the film itself, he would be implicating himself in something that was really fucked up. And if he didn’t implicate himself, you bet your perfect little ass that Bean and Dom and I, would ensure that he and any career that he had left would be destroyed. And don’t even get me started on what Ian would do, the dude is fucking scary man.” Dom grinned at his partner and picked up where he left off. “A word to Peter and he would make sure all his connections were severed from any future dealing with the film – that was the deal that they struck when everything shook loose. I’d never seen Peter so bloody incensed as I did the day Sean went to him and outlined the bare minimum of what happened. I thought Peter would sack the cunting little bastard right there, if the films hadn’t been so close to completion.” Stroking Orli’s curls he kissed the top of his head gently. “Come my little Princling Elf, I think you’ve found someone who is more truly a King, than the false monarch of our trilogy. He’s waiting for us, or more accurately, you, mate. Let us take you to him, besides I think the fresh air will do wonders for you after all that bleeding whiskey you guzzled. You’re not exactly a heavy-weight when it comes to hard liquor, Orli.”
The fresh air and 2 chairlifts to the top of the mountain did very little to sober Orlando up, nor did the short skidoo ride they were given from the top of the chair to the Roundhouse where the Gala was already in full swing by the time the three stragglers arrived. Trying to avoid Val, Bill and any others they had met during their day of racing, they skirted the edge of the party, steering Orlando away from trays of wine and champagne, and toward trays of canapés to absorb the alcohol. They made their way toward the closed room where some of the Auction items were being held and where Viggo said he’d meet them. As they entered Viggo had his back to them going over some notes. Once inside Elijah closed the door as Orlando launched himself at the artist, wanting nothing more than the soothing comfort of the man he had missed all day.
Viggo turned with a grin, which soon faded as he realized that Orlando was a hair on the drunk side of tipsy. “Christ Orlando!” Viggo growled, dislodging the young man from his lap. “I specifically asked you not to get drunk before hand, What part of that didn’t you understand?” Elijah came forward to help a dejected Orli off the floor and into a chair. “Wait Viggo.” Elijah pleaded.
“No Elijah. I have waited. And it seems that while I waited, Orlando decided to get well on the way to being drunk, regardless of how important this evening is to me. Not to mention the kids out there that he promised to help. I think I’m done waiting Elijah.” Viggo fumed. The emotional rollercoaster ride of last few days culminated in a spectacular outburst from the usually placid man, as his palpable disappointment washed over Orlando, pulling the two men farther apart. Orlando sat as if stunned, silent and blinking rapidly as if to keep tears at bay. Dom saw his anguish and try to stop the misunderstanding before it got worse. “Viggo, I don’t think you understand…” was all he got out before Viggo interrupted him.
“Oh believe me Dom, I do understand,” just starting to warm up to his rant, “I understand that Orlando thinks so little of me that he can’t keep from drinking and taking those fucking pills long enough to be apart of something close to my heart. What else do I need to understand? That life is hard, that taking responsibility for ones self takes effort. No, I’m sick of being understanding.” Looking directly at Orlando who was beginning to clench and unclench his hands again Viggo continued quietly. “Orlando I thought that after last night, after you came to me that something would have changed. I thought we had… I guess I though we had something. I guess I was wrong. I guess I really don’t have any idea what you need or who you are and I’m not sure if I have the strength to find out.”
Dom and Elijah looked to Orlando, waiting for him to defend himself, waiting for him to explain what had happened. The longer the silence stretched the more concerned they grew. Not able to bear the deafening stillness of the room, they both simultaneously started trying to explain everything to Viggo only to have Orlando stand up and shout “Stop!” And everything did. The hobbits grew quiet, not wanting to set off an irreversible chain of events. Viggo heart felt as if it stopped in his chest, his breath right along with it. Orlando’s hands shook as he concentrated on what he wanted to say. His mind wandered to only minutes before when upon seeing Viggo all he had wanted nothing more than to wrap himself around the man who had been the source of his comfort for the better part of the last week and now was the source of great pain. Each word cut Orlando deeply, severing the bonds they had been forming, setting him adrift in his own sea of confusion.
Images swam before Orlando’s eyes. Viggo at the airport with his hand lettered sign; Viggo on the slopes, graceful and free; Viggo painting, concentration etched on his face as paint dripped down his arm; the swirls of words and ideas drawn hastily on Viggo’s hand; the look of passion in Viggo’s eyes just prior to pulling as way from their only kiss. The images were accompanied by the high pitched whine of Kate and the low, dangerous growl of Stuart, berating him, and diminishing his self-worth. Fuck Kate; fuck Stuart, fuck the Hobbits and fuck Viggo.
“Dom! Elijah! Stop fighting my bloody battles.” He glared at his two friends, who sat down abruptly on the floor, mouths open, not believing the Orlando that had suddenly appeared. “And you Viggo. You think that I drank tonight to disrespect you? Well this isn’t about you Viggo. Believe me, just because I’ve been mooning about after you like a fucking puppy for the last week, I actually have real problems in my life that don’t include you and your pithy platitudes.” Viggo rose to say something and Orlando stopped him cold. “You had your say, now it’s my turn. You spout advice about my life and what I need to do to make it better and yet you have no idea what it’s like to be me, to live with chronic pain. You have no idea what it’s like to wake up everyday knowing that it’s not *whether* something will be hurting but how *bad* will it be hurting, because Viggo it always hurts. Do you think I *like* that I twitch for those fucking things every time I feel a twinge of pain. Did you know that I’m so scared that I’m going to slide back down into the pit of the excruciating pain that I’ve experienced that I’ll do anything to keep from going back there? You have no bloody idea what pain is. You have no clue what I’ve been through thus far, though you have all these lofty expectations of what I can be and yet you are too fucking scared to open yourself up to feel intimacy. What’s in been now Vig? Three years, give or take, since you’ve been intimate with anyone? Forgotten what to do with a half naked man in your bed?” Orlando spat out the words, meaning them to wound and hurt as deeply as he hurt. Looking at the stunned faces of the three men in front of him that the full extent of what he had said began to dawn on him. As quickly as it had been sparked, the anger that had smoldered within Orlando, quickly died and turned everything before him to ash. Orlando began to sway on his feet, feeling the weight of emotion crash down on him.
Elijah reached out and guided Orlando to the floor, where he drew his knees to his chest and rocked slowly back and forth while Elijah stroked his back. Viggo fought the opposing urges; wanting wrap Orlando I his arms and hold him much as he did last night or responding to the venom that Orlando had just spewed; in the end he just stayed silently still. “Please ‘Lij, please just leave me alone.” Orlando’s words were barely whispered. Slowly Elijah backed away, finding himself in the comfort of Dom’s arms.
Through the silence inside the room and the muffled din of the party outside, came an announcement that the Auction was about to begin. Again Viggo was conflicted, stricken by the broken weeping man that sat on the floor, wordlessly needing comfort and yet furious at Orlando for putting him in this position. Not ready to deal with his own emotions he turned to Dom and Elijah. “Since Orlando won’t be able to help, I’d like it if you both could assist me – the kids will be disappointed otherwise. Orlando can wait for us here; it will give him the time on his own that he wants.”
“I don’t want to leave him here by himself.” Said Elijah softly, “I can’t do that.” He Looked at Dom and pleaded. “Don’t ask me to Dommie, I won’t, I can’t.” Dom hugged him tight, knowing that Elijah’s wouldn’t be budged, not on this.
“Lijah… I’ll be fine. Really I will. Being alone, suits me right now… I’ve already disappointed all of you, let’s not disappoint the kids, yeah?” Orlando’s voice belied how scared and alone he felt, urging his younger friend to leave. “I will be fine. Truly, I will.” He stood and gave Elijah a hug, allowing the younger man to agree, however reluctantly.
Left alone in the room,, Orlando waited until he was sure they wouldn’t return and broke down sobbing uncontrollably, for the first time realizing all that he had potentially lost and how hopeless everything seemed. When he heard the Auction beginning with wild cheers as the Hobbits were introduced, he made his way down the long hallway and headed toward the door, not really knowing where he was going but knowing he had to leave as *his* voice mocked him mercilessly.
//You’ve certainly fucked it up this time Orli… No way he’s going to want you after that pathetic display… you’re so useless… even a forty something year old artist who hasn’t had a decent fuck in years doesn’t want you...//
From the Auction stage, Elijah could see the door open and Orlando slip out, he grabbed Dom and wanted to follow. After a quick discussion the three men decided to let him go; they would find him when they were done. Elijah vowed silently that the moment they left the stage he would tell Viggo everything that had happened that evening, about Kate and the phone call. He deserved to know that much, before his anger caused even more damage.
Just over an hour later they were thankfully done. Smiling and waving to everyone they hurried off the stage only to be stopped by someone who looked rather official. Viggo smiled at the women and thanked her for letting them participate and hoped that they raised a great deal of money. The women brushed off his thanks with a smile and assured them the money raised was far above what they had anticipated. With a worried look she asked if she could speak with them alone and ushered them into a private office.
“I’m not sure where to begin.” She began hesitantly.
“What’s wrong Margaret? Has something happened?” He immediately thought of Orlando and felt a chill creep up his spine.
Viggo, there’s been a situation.”
“A situation?”
“It’s about Mr. Bloom,” She practically winced when she mention Orlando.
“Orlando, my god. What’s happened Margaret?” Viggo’s heart raced with worry. Dom and Elijah clasped hands, fearing the worst.
“The RCMP were called. It seems that Mr. Bloom left here earlier and commandeered one of the snowmobiles we were using to shuttle people to and from the lift. The drivers were having a break when the Auction started… they figured no one would be leaving for a while. It was at that point Mr. Bloom left and took one of the machines and was seen driving… well, driving, um, *unsteadily* down the mountain.” Elijah gasped and clung to Dom. Viggo was still moment, trying to comprehend what he had just heard. Something didn’t make sense.
“Wait, how did they know it was Orlando, I mean surely it could have been anyone right?”
“I’m afraid not Viggo. The drivers weren’t sure who had taken the machine, they just saw them leave. They promptly reported it to Mountain Operations because of the grooming machines in the area a snowmobiler, especially one unfamiliar with the area could be in grave anger of a collision or even find themselves lost out of bounds somewhere on the mountain. The Operations Manager called the RCMP who was also alerted by residents to an erratic snowmobile lower down the mountain. They found the machine abandoned in a snow bank with a cracked windshield and a fair amount of blood nearby. They followed the trail to your house, Viggo, where they found Mr. Bloom, uh, unresponsive and suffering from minor head injuries.”
“Christ.” Said Dom followed by a “holy shit!” from Elijah. Viggo sat mutely not knowing what to do with the information that he’d been presented with.
“Viggo?” Margaret asked concerned at the lack of response.
“Viggo, they’ve taken him to the clinic to be stitched and then he’ll be taken into the detachment to be booked. Out of courtesy Staff Sergeant Henry thought you should know so you could make arrangements to keep this as quiet as possible.”
Elijah was out of his chair, held back only by Dom’s warm grip. “Can we see him?” I want to see him. I don’t want him to be left alone. And before you say anything Viggo, I’m not listening. He’s my friend and I won’t abandon him. Your way obviously didn’t work any better than our way, but at least our way he knew someone would be there for him.”
Margaret slid the information toward Viggo and quietly excused herself from the office, leaving the three men in a heated discussion. Viggo still hadn’t spoken and Elijah was just getting warmed up. “You have no idea why he drank tonight, yet you launched into him and made him feel small. Do you even care what happened?” Viggo looked at him blankly, confused by everything that was happening and the contradictory emotions roiling inside him. “Kate happened, that’s what. The little bitch phoned him right as we were about to leave and gave him an ultimatum that amounted to blackmail. We watched our friend slide backward toward a place that we’ve only seen him once before and hope never to see him again. By the fucking skin of our teeth, mostly due to Dom talking rationally to him, did we get him out of there. He came not out of duty or obligation, but to see you. You were the one thing we could use to get him out of that place.”
Viggo shook his head and had the good grace to look stricken, “I didn’t know.” He said meekly.
Elijah wasn’t done. “I don’t know what the hell has been going on between the two of you, but it’s something. Something that I... that we... hoped would be good for Orli. We trusted you, Sean said to trust you and we did. Now’s he’s being fucking arrested. Arrested Viggo. Can you even imagine how scared and alone he must feel right now. Do you even care?” Dom turned Elijah away from Viggo and held on to him. “Elijah, listen. This isn’t helping Orli right now. Yelling at Viggo isn’t going to help. We need to find Orli and to do that you need to calm down.” Dom whispered and soothed as he pulled him into a hug.
“Viggo, we need you to find out where Orli is and how soon we can see him. I understand if you don’t come along, in fact, I think it might be best.” Dom spoke calmly and directly. Once he realized that Viggo still hadn’t moved, as if he were in shock, he let go of Elijah and gently placed an arm on Viggo’s shoulder and offered his mobile phone with the other. “Vig? Mate, we need your help.”
Completely dazed, Viggo picked up the phone and called the umber provided by Margaret. After a few minutes he hung up and looked completely wrung out, his voice virtually an automaton, devoid of any feeling or emotion. “He’s waiting to be stitched right now and then they’ll bring him back to the detachment. They’ve offered him the use of the phone and he told them he didn’t want to call anyone; that there was no one he wanted to speak to. Sergeant Henry suggested that we wait until morning to see him.”
“I don’t give a rat’s ass what he fucking *suggested* I want to see him tonight.” Elijah’s tone had not lost any of its anger.
Viggo scrubbed his hand over his face and looked at them both wit bleary eyes. “It was more of an out right demand, phrased as a suggestion. You won’t get anywhere barging in there tonight, Elijah.”
Viggo’s right love, we’ll only make things worse if we start causing trouble. I think it’s best if we wait.” Looking at Vigo again Dom asked, “Did they say what they would be charging him with?”
“They still need to run it by the Crown Prosecutor in the morning but it looks like one charge of Theft Over a $5,000 dollars and one of Reckless Endangerment.” The words echoed in his head ‘Theft Over a $5,000 dollars… Reckless Endangerment’ almost like déjà vu or a re-occurring nightmare. It was all too much for Viggo to cope with and slowly he felt himself slip away and disassociate with everything around him, a feeling that familiar, and entirely unwelcome.
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Orlando was on his back, eyes closed, dull pain pulsed through swelling on his face and head. Someone named Nancy swabbed the blood from his swollen and battered skin with gentle but efficient strokes of a cooling swab, as she prepared the area to be stitched. She spoke to him in a soothing voice as she worked, hoping for some sort of response, but go nothing but an involuntary flinch or groan. Her ministrations complete, she moved away, and left him in the stillness of the room, with the constant hum of his own internal voices. Through the self-induced verbal assault, he tried to focus on the voice that held the most meaning to him; Viggo. Using all the tricks he had learned as an actor he blocked everything out except for the soothing mantra of Viggo’s voice that kept him from completely falling apart. Each word was a memory; each memory cherished and clung to like a lifeline as the world around him faded to nothingness, causing great concern to the medical workers and police officers that approached with great care.
//…Maybe I care because you don’t seem to know how amazing you are… I trust you Orlando, will you trust me… You have to believe that disappointment does not equal abandonment...
Maybe I care because you don’t seem to know how amazing you are… I trust you Orlando, will you trust me… You have to believe that disappointment does not equal abandonment...
Maybe I care because you don’t seem to know how amazing you are… I trust you Orlando, will you trust me… You have to believe that disappointment does not equal abandonment...
disappointment does not equal abandonment...
does not equal abandonment... //
TBC
Author’s Note: The story has taken a very angst-ridden turn and it’s really getting to me -- making it harder to write than I originally expected. I will continue because I know where it leads and I want to (need to?) get there, I’m just finding it a little tough right now. Thanks for bearing with me. rb
Chapter: 9/?
Author: Rocketbalm
Pairing: OB/VM
Rating: R for language
Summary: the three R’s -- Revelation, Revulsion and Rebuke
Content/warnings: AU, steeped in angst
Spoilers: None.
Posted: Mirrormere, VOLA and LJ
Disclaimer: Blatantly not true, fiction
fic•tion (fik shen)
An imaginative creation or a pretense that does not represent actuality but has been invented. A lie. A literary work whose content is produced by the imagination and is not necessarily based on fact.
Chapter 9
Viggo had known that Orli had been awake most of the night, only dozing fitfully. He had kept a silent vigil, feeling the warmth of Orli in his arms as emotions came off him in voiceless waves. In the predawn light he felt Orlando imperceptibly tense and pull away from him, leaving as soundlessly as he came. Viggo remained still, as if asleep, and felt Orlando press his soft lips to the skin below his ear, unknowingly brushing and the wetness of his tears against Viggo’s cheek. Reluctantly, Viggo let him slip quietly out the door, as if this night had been nothing more than dream. Whatever Orli was working through, he obviously needed time and space alone to do that. Reaching up, Viggo touched the dampness on his cheek and lost in thought, brought fingers to his lips to taste the salty liquid. Sucking gently on his fingertips, Viggo was just grateful that Orlando had allowed him to comfort and hold him through the night.
Lying with Orlando in his arms had felt so right; frighteningly so. Every fiber of his being was drawn to the younger man as he was swept away in a vortex of emotions, until he teetered between love and logic. There were so many things he still need to talk to Orlando about and so many things he still needed to know. It was more than just the scars, both physical and psychological that he needed to share; it was trust and love and healing, a foundation he wanted to build. Where do you start? How do you tell someone you hope to be your future lover that your former lover tried to kill you; that you hadn’t shared intimacy with anyone since then. Where do you begin to explain the nightmares that wake you, the pain that haunts you and the knowledge that someday he’ll be released and this time you might fail to protect those you love?
He listened to the sounds of Orlando moving about in the loft; he’d give Orlando today and then tomorrow they would talk, or at least he would. Today Orlando had made plans with Dom and Elijah to roam the village all day. Viggo had planned to work in the studio until late afternoon; before he headed up the mountain to hang and light the picture he was donating to the auction. There were plenty of details he would need to take care of while he waited for Orlando and the boys to arrive later in the evening. Being apart all day would be a good thing, give them time to reflect independently -- tomorrow would come soon enough, today they would have to themselves.
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Orlando woke after fitfully dozing with Viggo all night; the caress of Viggo’s breath on his skin, the warmth of his body, and the arm that encircled him felt lighter than the weight on his conscious. Like a thief in the night, he crept from the room without waking the older man, lingering only to place a kiss on the Viggo’s outstretched neck, just below his ear. With a heavy heart he made his way back to the loft, showered, dressed and quietly padded downstairs. When Viggo didn’t rise at his regular time, Orlando wrote him a note, and headed out the door calling Dom to meet him on the way to the village. Drawing the cold air into his lungs as he navigated the drive, he hoped that the crispness of the day would help him clear his mind as he focused on the beauty and serenity of the early morning, enjoying the vigor of the walk.
Hours later, Orlando lay on his bed slowly being blanketed by darkness, watching the pale winter light turn to dusk, as a one by one, lights winked on in the valley. His thoughts drifted to the relaxed day they spent wandering the village, after Dom and Elijah had picked him up, chilled from his early morning walk. They had explored shops, visited the gallery that Viggo co-owned and sipped lattes as they strolled virtually undisturbed, if not unnoticed. Orlando had been grateful that the boys had understood Orlando’s need for quiet reflection and didn’t pry or push him to talk. Now back home he realized how much he missed the older man that day and he wavered in his certainty that he’d be able to let go of Viggo before he hurt the artist in some way. Spending the day with his friends had raised more questions than it had answered.
Dom and Elijah had always been fun, he always felt included and never like a third wheel. This time was different though. This time Orli watched the pair wistfully; for the first time felt like he was missing something in his life. It seemed that overnight he had become more aware of things that he had taken for granted in their relationship; the way Dom brought Elijah’s hat along even after he said he wouldn’t need it, and lovingly put it on his lover without so much as an ‘I told you so’ ten minutes later when Elijah shivered with cold; how Elijah saw that Dom’s meal came with olives that he disliked and without a word cleared room on his own plate for the untidy pile of rejects; he noticed every reassuring touch and secret smile that passed between them. Random nothingness that meant so much more, meant they had a connection that went beyond words, an understanding that transcended explanation and a love that had woven it’s way through the fabric of their relationship leaving no doubt that each gesture and look held a deeper meaning. It made Orlando feel empty knowing he had never truly felt that with anyone. He had had a connection with Stuart, though it was based on fear not love.
Orlando shuddered, not ready to examine those months of his life, yet knowing he had to. He remembered the kindness Stuart showed him when Sean had returned to England, remembered feeling cared for and safe – not unlike how Viggo made him feel now, yet so completely different. He remembered how kindness gave way to intimidation and what was once safe became something to be feared. Orlando began to feel the swell of anger take hold of him, stopping him short. When had he become so easily angered, thinking back to his numerous outbursts in the last few days. He recognized on some base level that he was slowly unraveling, slowly losing control, unsure which feelings were real and his and which were manufactured for the different versions of himself he portrayed to the world. He lay, with his arms outstretched, eyes closed, watching the patterns of colour swirl beneath his eyelids mirroring the turbidity of his own confused emotions.
It seemed that every time he grasped a thread of understanding he would follow it to find a tangled mess with out a beginning or end, leaving him more bewildered than ever. Every thought inevitably led back to Viggo. Orlando wanted to bask in his kindness and understanding; he hungered for his love and acceptance; he ached with the need for intimacy, both physical and emotional and yet he was unable to open himself up, give himself over to the possibility. He felt what he thought was love for Viggo but wasn’t sure he could trust that you could you fall in love in less than a week. If it was love, he felt it was also an impossible challenge; one he was destined to fail and condemned to hurt and be hurt. Silent tears slid down Orlando’s face, as he let his emotions war within himself until he dozed lightly in the enveloping darkness.
On the dresser his phone began it’s incessant chirping, the third time in the last ten minutes. Weighed down by his runaway thought process, Orlando had tried to ignored it. Finally it stopped and Orlando was bathed in silence once more. Almost wishing he hadn’t agreed to be part of the Charity Auction with Viggo but wanting nothing more than to see him, he roused himself to get ready for the evening.
Freshly shaved and showered, he dressed carefully; a plum coloured silk shirt, black pants and a casual jacket, around his neck placed his charms and wound a soft black scarf to complete the subdued ensemble. He took two of his pills and slipped two more into his pocket for later as he grabbed his phone, not bothering to check who had called earlier. Once downstairs he got himself a beer and wandered the living room, aimlessly looking at books and photos, absorbing the minutia of Viggo’s life while he waited for the Hobbits to arrive. His phone began to ring again as the he heard the hum of Dom’s car pull up the drive. Ignoring his phone once more he pulled open the door, eager for a distraction from himself.
Elijah emerged first, hair spiked and blue eyes impossibly wide with his long wool coat pulled tight against he cold. “Ready for a night on the mountain, Orli? Should be romantic riding the chairlift in the dark.” He grinned as he pushed past Orlando and into the house. “Yeah just what I need, to be stuck on a swaying frozen piece of metal while you two make out and keep each other warm next to me.” He teased, thinking how nice it would have been to ride up with Viggo, and looking forward to the end of the evening when they could cozy up together for the ride down. Then realizing where his mind was going he tried hopelessly to back-track to no avail. The thought of him snuggled next to Viggo, high above the snow, in the dark with nothing but the moon to light their way was intoxicating and not easily forgotten. Looking back to the car for Dom the blond was busy answering his phone as he closed the car door, standing in the drive laughing with who ever had called. Leaving the front door open a crack, Orlando followed Elijah in and offered him a beer while they waited for Dom. The two were lounging on the sofa when Dom finally made his way in.
“Hey Orli you big wanker, why aren’t you answering your phone?” Dom barked as he vaulted over the sofa and landed on Orli who barely kept his beer upright during the attack. “Vig just called and said he couldn’t get a hold of you. I think he was a little worried.” Dom pulled Orlando’s shirt up and blew a raspberry on the hairless skin beneath, sending Orli into paroxysms of giggles. “Wanted to know when we were leaving. I think he misses our Elf.” He added with a grin. “He also wanted to remind us that we are to be on our best behaviour until after your help in the auction is no longer required. He was quite specifically requested that we limit our alcohol consumption to afterward. Probably figured it wouldn’t look good for us to be falling down drunk, when all the disabled kids were able to stay upright.” He smirked and grabbed Orli’s beer and took several large gulps and added, “If this is our last one, we better make the best of it.” Orlando grabbed his beer back and shoved Dom onto the floor as his phone started ringing again. Dom picked himself up and settled next to Elijah who was just as reluctant to share his bottle with him. “That’s probably Vig again, you better answer before he sends a search party after you.”
Orli flipped open his phone. “Yeah, I’ll be good, I promise.” He said into the phone expecting Viggo to laugh with him.
“Orli?” Came a confused breathy definitely non-masculine voice from the other end.
“Fuck.” Orlando wanted to throw the phone as far out into a snow bank as he could but remained frozen on the spot listening to one of the two people he would be happy never to speak to again in his life. Dom and Elijah watched as Orli went pale, as he listened brow furrowed, murmuring responses infrequently. As the one sided conversation stretched into minutes, they saw Orli become more and more agitated as he paced, banging into the coffee table twice a he clenched his free hand into a fist repeatedly. Both men looked at each other, Dom mouthed ‘Kate?’ to Elijah who nodded as they watched Orlando open the liquor cabinet and pour a tumbler full of something amber then promptly drinking half, before slamming the glass on the table, sloshing the liquid over the rim.
“That’s amounts to blackmail Kate, you are that aware of that, right?” Orlando growled into the receiver.
“I see. Then I guess I will give you an answer by the weekend.” His voice was colder than the icicles on the firs outside. With exaggerated precision Orlando closed his phone and set it next to the glass on the table, and downed the remain liquid with a grimace. He stared at the empty glass in his hand and looked as if he were about to throw it when Dom caught his arm firmly and put the glass back on the table. “Orli?” Elijah asked warily.
“Scheming bloody bitch!” Orlando roared slamming his fists into the table top unsettling the vase of flowers enough to cause a cascade of petals to drift downward. “What is it Orli, what did she want?” Dom asked trying to get a handle on what had happened. Orlando re-filled his tumbler with alcohol as Dom waited for some of the rage to dissipate. “She said she’s been calling for three days, which she has, and if she wasn’t such a stupid cunt she would have taken that to mean I didn’t want to talk to her. Her agent has been pestering Mike to see if there is some way we can spin this a lovers spat and create some sort of reconciliation. Of course, Mike has continue to hold to a firm ‘no’ on that. So the little bitch decides to take matters into her own hands and concoct a plan that amounts to nothing more than black mail. If I don’t reconcile with her, beg for forgiveness, act contrite in the media and all sorts of other stuff and nonsense, she will send the press to New Zealand to do a little digging. Apparently, some of my nightmares have been quite vivid and she has fairly good idea of what happened but has no proof. If I agree to stay with her and act the loving and repentant boyfriend until her next movie comes out and after the next awards season, she will drop the whole thing and let me go, free and clear.” Orlando drained the glass as his stomach heaved and growled at the introduction of more booze. Realizing that the amount of alcohol was soon going to have a stupefying affect on his friend, Elijah searched the cupboards for food. Finding a loaf of French bread, he began breaking off hunks of the doughy substance and passing them to Orlando, who devoured them ravenously.
“Orli, she can’t hold you hostage like that man. The bitch won’t find anything in New Zealand.” Elijah rubbed Orlando’s back soothingly. “No one knows anything, hell Dom and I know some but not all of what happened; Sean knows the most out of any of us and he’d kill anyone who even asked the question.” Elijah reasoned.
“People could speculate Elijah, there were signs, people whispered. Hell the whole last month of filming was a constant chess game to keep the two of us apart as much as possible. Rumour and innuendo is all they need to go on. And your forgetting the one person that could, and most likely would fuck me over.” Orlando looked at the two of them, not wanting to voice to the name as if saying it out loud would give it legitimacy.
“Stuart wouldn’t dare Orlando. Sean put the fear of all that is unholy into him, that I don’t think he’s forgotten. As for people on set, none of them would betray you Orli. You were always kind and thoughtful to everyone, they would rather poke out an eye with a sharp stick than to gossip about you. Not to mention that Peter is a god in N.Z. and they most definitely wouldn’t mess with any of his own, of which, you are one.” Dom reasoned, trying to get Orli to calm down. Feeling his legs tremble, Orlando collapsed in a chair.
“It’s been a long time Dom, Stuart is not exactly a shrinking violet. He’s more than capable of dropping some well placed comments.” Orlando whispered dejectedly.
“Your wrong Orli.” Seeing Orlando shake his head Elijah continued. “No you are. Listen to me, Stuart is a fucking coward, nothing more than a school yard bully. If he commented on anything except the film itself, he would be implicating himself in something that was really fucked up. And if he didn’t implicate himself, you bet your perfect little ass that Bean and Dom and I, would ensure that he and any career that he had left would be destroyed. And don’t even get me started on what Ian would do, the dude is fucking scary man.” Dom grinned at his partner and picked up where he left off. “A word to Peter and he would make sure all his connections were severed from any future dealing with the film – that was the deal that they struck when everything shook loose. I’d never seen Peter so bloody incensed as I did the day Sean went to him and outlined the bare minimum of what happened. I thought Peter would sack the cunting little bastard right there, if the films hadn’t been so close to completion.” Stroking Orli’s curls he kissed the top of his head gently. “Come my little Princling Elf, I think you’ve found someone who is more truly a King, than the false monarch of our trilogy. He’s waiting for us, or more accurately, you, mate. Let us take you to him, besides I think the fresh air will do wonders for you after all that bleeding whiskey you guzzled. You’re not exactly a heavy-weight when it comes to hard liquor, Orli.”
The fresh air and 2 chairlifts to the top of the mountain did very little to sober Orlando up, nor did the short skidoo ride they were given from the top of the chair to the Roundhouse where the Gala was already in full swing by the time the three stragglers arrived. Trying to avoid Val, Bill and any others they had met during their day of racing, they skirted the edge of the party, steering Orlando away from trays of wine and champagne, and toward trays of canapés to absorb the alcohol. They made their way toward the closed room where some of the Auction items were being held and where Viggo said he’d meet them. As they entered Viggo had his back to them going over some notes. Once inside Elijah closed the door as Orlando launched himself at the artist, wanting nothing more than the soothing comfort of the man he had missed all day.
Viggo turned with a grin, which soon faded as he realized that Orlando was a hair on the drunk side of tipsy. “Christ Orlando!” Viggo growled, dislodging the young man from his lap. “I specifically asked you not to get drunk before hand, What part of that didn’t you understand?” Elijah came forward to help a dejected Orli off the floor and into a chair. “Wait Viggo.” Elijah pleaded.
“No Elijah. I have waited. And it seems that while I waited, Orlando decided to get well on the way to being drunk, regardless of how important this evening is to me. Not to mention the kids out there that he promised to help. I think I’m done waiting Elijah.” Viggo fumed. The emotional rollercoaster ride of last few days culminated in a spectacular outburst from the usually placid man, as his palpable disappointment washed over Orlando, pulling the two men farther apart. Orlando sat as if stunned, silent and blinking rapidly as if to keep tears at bay. Dom saw his anguish and try to stop the misunderstanding before it got worse. “Viggo, I don’t think you understand…” was all he got out before Viggo interrupted him.
“Oh believe me Dom, I do understand,” just starting to warm up to his rant, “I understand that Orlando thinks so little of me that he can’t keep from drinking and taking those fucking pills long enough to be apart of something close to my heart. What else do I need to understand? That life is hard, that taking responsibility for ones self takes effort. No, I’m sick of being understanding.” Looking directly at Orlando who was beginning to clench and unclench his hands again Viggo continued quietly. “Orlando I thought that after last night, after you came to me that something would have changed. I thought we had… I guess I though we had something. I guess I was wrong. I guess I really don’t have any idea what you need or who you are and I’m not sure if I have the strength to find out.”
Dom and Elijah looked to Orlando, waiting for him to defend himself, waiting for him to explain what had happened. The longer the silence stretched the more concerned they grew. Not able to bear the deafening stillness of the room, they both simultaneously started trying to explain everything to Viggo only to have Orlando stand up and shout “Stop!” And everything did. The hobbits grew quiet, not wanting to set off an irreversible chain of events. Viggo heart felt as if it stopped in his chest, his breath right along with it. Orlando’s hands shook as he concentrated on what he wanted to say. His mind wandered to only minutes before when upon seeing Viggo all he had wanted nothing more than to wrap himself around the man who had been the source of his comfort for the better part of the last week and now was the source of great pain. Each word cut Orlando deeply, severing the bonds they had been forming, setting him adrift in his own sea of confusion.
Images swam before Orlando’s eyes. Viggo at the airport with his hand lettered sign; Viggo on the slopes, graceful and free; Viggo painting, concentration etched on his face as paint dripped down his arm; the swirls of words and ideas drawn hastily on Viggo’s hand; the look of passion in Viggo’s eyes just prior to pulling as way from their only kiss. The images were accompanied by the high pitched whine of Kate and the low, dangerous growl of Stuart, berating him, and diminishing his self-worth. Fuck Kate; fuck Stuart, fuck the Hobbits and fuck Viggo.
“Dom! Elijah! Stop fighting my bloody battles.” He glared at his two friends, who sat down abruptly on the floor, mouths open, not believing the Orlando that had suddenly appeared. “And you Viggo. You think that I drank tonight to disrespect you? Well this isn’t about you Viggo. Believe me, just because I’ve been mooning about after you like a fucking puppy for the last week, I actually have real problems in my life that don’t include you and your pithy platitudes.” Viggo rose to say something and Orlando stopped him cold. “You had your say, now it’s my turn. You spout advice about my life and what I need to do to make it better and yet you have no idea what it’s like to be me, to live with chronic pain. You have no idea what it’s like to wake up everyday knowing that it’s not *whether* something will be hurting but how *bad* will it be hurting, because Viggo it always hurts. Do you think I *like* that I twitch for those fucking things every time I feel a twinge of pain. Did you know that I’m so scared that I’m going to slide back down into the pit of the excruciating pain that I’ve experienced that I’ll do anything to keep from going back there? You have no bloody idea what pain is. You have no clue what I’ve been through thus far, though you have all these lofty expectations of what I can be and yet you are too fucking scared to open yourself up to feel intimacy. What’s in been now Vig? Three years, give or take, since you’ve been intimate with anyone? Forgotten what to do with a half naked man in your bed?” Orlando spat out the words, meaning them to wound and hurt as deeply as he hurt. Looking at the stunned faces of the three men in front of him that the full extent of what he had said began to dawn on him. As quickly as it had been sparked, the anger that had smoldered within Orlando, quickly died and turned everything before him to ash. Orlando began to sway on his feet, feeling the weight of emotion crash down on him.
Elijah reached out and guided Orlando to the floor, where he drew his knees to his chest and rocked slowly back and forth while Elijah stroked his back. Viggo fought the opposing urges; wanting wrap Orlando I his arms and hold him much as he did last night or responding to the venom that Orlando had just spewed; in the end he just stayed silently still. “Please ‘Lij, please just leave me alone.” Orlando’s words were barely whispered. Slowly Elijah backed away, finding himself in the comfort of Dom’s arms.
Through the silence inside the room and the muffled din of the party outside, came an announcement that the Auction was about to begin. Again Viggo was conflicted, stricken by the broken weeping man that sat on the floor, wordlessly needing comfort and yet furious at Orlando for putting him in this position. Not ready to deal with his own emotions he turned to Dom and Elijah. “Since Orlando won’t be able to help, I’d like it if you both could assist me – the kids will be disappointed otherwise. Orlando can wait for us here; it will give him the time on his own that he wants.”
“I don’t want to leave him here by himself.” Said Elijah softly, “I can’t do that.” He Looked at Dom and pleaded. “Don’t ask me to Dommie, I won’t, I can’t.” Dom hugged him tight, knowing that Elijah’s wouldn’t be budged, not on this.
“Lijah… I’ll be fine. Really I will. Being alone, suits me right now… I’ve already disappointed all of you, let’s not disappoint the kids, yeah?” Orlando’s voice belied how scared and alone he felt, urging his younger friend to leave. “I will be fine. Truly, I will.” He stood and gave Elijah a hug, allowing the younger man to agree, however reluctantly.
Left alone in the room,, Orlando waited until he was sure they wouldn’t return and broke down sobbing uncontrollably, for the first time realizing all that he had potentially lost and how hopeless everything seemed. When he heard the Auction beginning with wild cheers as the Hobbits were introduced, he made his way down the long hallway and headed toward the door, not really knowing where he was going but knowing he had to leave as *his* voice mocked him mercilessly.
//You’ve certainly fucked it up this time Orli… No way he’s going to want you after that pathetic display… you’re so useless… even a forty something year old artist who hasn’t had a decent fuck in years doesn’t want you...//
From the Auction stage, Elijah could see the door open and Orlando slip out, he grabbed Dom and wanted to follow. After a quick discussion the three men decided to let him go; they would find him when they were done. Elijah vowed silently that the moment they left the stage he would tell Viggo everything that had happened that evening, about Kate and the phone call. He deserved to know that much, before his anger caused even more damage.
Just over an hour later they were thankfully done. Smiling and waving to everyone they hurried off the stage only to be stopped by someone who looked rather official. Viggo smiled at the women and thanked her for letting them participate and hoped that they raised a great deal of money. The women brushed off his thanks with a smile and assured them the money raised was far above what they had anticipated. With a worried look she asked if she could speak with them alone and ushered them into a private office.
“I’m not sure where to begin.” She began hesitantly.
“What’s wrong Margaret? Has something happened?” He immediately thought of Orlando and felt a chill creep up his spine.
Viggo, there’s been a situation.”
“A situation?”
“It’s about Mr. Bloom,” She practically winced when she mention Orlando.
“Orlando, my god. What’s happened Margaret?” Viggo’s heart raced with worry. Dom and Elijah clasped hands, fearing the worst.
“The RCMP were called. It seems that Mr. Bloom left here earlier and commandeered one of the snowmobiles we were using to shuttle people to and from the lift. The drivers were having a break when the Auction started… they figured no one would be leaving for a while. It was at that point Mr. Bloom left and took one of the machines and was seen driving… well, driving, um, *unsteadily* down the mountain.” Elijah gasped and clung to Dom. Viggo was still moment, trying to comprehend what he had just heard. Something didn’t make sense.
“Wait, how did they know it was Orlando, I mean surely it could have been anyone right?”
“I’m afraid not Viggo. The drivers weren’t sure who had taken the machine, they just saw them leave. They promptly reported it to Mountain Operations because of the grooming machines in the area a snowmobiler, especially one unfamiliar with the area could be in grave anger of a collision or even find themselves lost out of bounds somewhere on the mountain. The Operations Manager called the RCMP who was also alerted by residents to an erratic snowmobile lower down the mountain. They found the machine abandoned in a snow bank with a cracked windshield and a fair amount of blood nearby. They followed the trail to your house, Viggo, where they found Mr. Bloom, uh, unresponsive and suffering from minor head injuries.”
“Christ.” Said Dom followed by a “holy shit!” from Elijah. Viggo sat mutely not knowing what to do with the information that he’d been presented with.
“Viggo?” Margaret asked concerned at the lack of response.
“Viggo, they’ve taken him to the clinic to be stitched and then he’ll be taken into the detachment to be booked. Out of courtesy Staff Sergeant Henry thought you should know so you could make arrangements to keep this as quiet as possible.”
Elijah was out of his chair, held back only by Dom’s warm grip. “Can we see him?” I want to see him. I don’t want him to be left alone. And before you say anything Viggo, I’m not listening. He’s my friend and I won’t abandon him. Your way obviously didn’t work any better than our way, but at least our way he knew someone would be there for him.”
Margaret slid the information toward Viggo and quietly excused herself from the office, leaving the three men in a heated discussion. Viggo still hadn’t spoken and Elijah was just getting warmed up. “You have no idea why he drank tonight, yet you launched into him and made him feel small. Do you even care what happened?” Viggo looked at him blankly, confused by everything that was happening and the contradictory emotions roiling inside him. “Kate happened, that’s what. The little bitch phoned him right as we were about to leave and gave him an ultimatum that amounted to blackmail. We watched our friend slide backward toward a place that we’ve only seen him once before and hope never to see him again. By the fucking skin of our teeth, mostly due to Dom talking rationally to him, did we get him out of there. He came not out of duty or obligation, but to see you. You were the one thing we could use to get him out of that place.”
Viggo shook his head and had the good grace to look stricken, “I didn’t know.” He said meekly.
Elijah wasn’t done. “I don’t know what the hell has been going on between the two of you, but it’s something. Something that I... that we... hoped would be good for Orli. We trusted you, Sean said to trust you and we did. Now’s he’s being fucking arrested. Arrested Viggo. Can you even imagine how scared and alone he must feel right now. Do you even care?” Dom turned Elijah away from Viggo and held on to him. “Elijah, listen. This isn’t helping Orli right now. Yelling at Viggo isn’t going to help. We need to find Orli and to do that you need to calm down.” Dom whispered and soothed as he pulled him into a hug.
“Viggo, we need you to find out where Orli is and how soon we can see him. I understand if you don’t come along, in fact, I think it might be best.” Dom spoke calmly and directly. Once he realized that Viggo still hadn’t moved, as if he were in shock, he let go of Elijah and gently placed an arm on Viggo’s shoulder and offered his mobile phone with the other. “Vig? Mate, we need your help.”
Completely dazed, Viggo picked up the phone and called the umber provided by Margaret. After a few minutes he hung up and looked completely wrung out, his voice virtually an automaton, devoid of any feeling or emotion. “He’s waiting to be stitched right now and then they’ll bring him back to the detachment. They’ve offered him the use of the phone and he told them he didn’t want to call anyone; that there was no one he wanted to speak to. Sergeant Henry suggested that we wait until morning to see him.”
“I don’t give a rat’s ass what he fucking *suggested* I want to see him tonight.” Elijah’s tone had not lost any of its anger.
Viggo scrubbed his hand over his face and looked at them both wit bleary eyes. “It was more of an out right demand, phrased as a suggestion. You won’t get anywhere barging in there tonight, Elijah.”
Viggo’s right love, we’ll only make things worse if we start causing trouble. I think it’s best if we wait.” Looking at Vigo again Dom asked, “Did they say what they would be charging him with?”
“They still need to run it by the Crown Prosecutor in the morning but it looks like one charge of Theft Over a $5,000 dollars and one of Reckless Endangerment.” The words echoed in his head ‘Theft Over a $5,000 dollars… Reckless Endangerment’ almost like déjà vu or a re-occurring nightmare. It was all too much for Viggo to cope with and slowly he felt himself slip away and disassociate with everything around him, a feeling that familiar, and entirely unwelcome.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Orlando was on his back, eyes closed, dull pain pulsed through swelling on his face and head. Someone named Nancy swabbed the blood from his swollen and battered skin with gentle but efficient strokes of a cooling swab, as she prepared the area to be stitched. She spoke to him in a soothing voice as she worked, hoping for some sort of response, but go nothing but an involuntary flinch or groan. Her ministrations complete, she moved away, and left him in the stillness of the room, with the constant hum of his own internal voices. Through the self-induced verbal assault, he tried to focus on the voice that held the most meaning to him; Viggo. Using all the tricks he had learned as an actor he blocked everything out except for the soothing mantra of Viggo’s voice that kept him from completely falling apart. Each word was a memory; each memory cherished and clung to like a lifeline as the world around him faded to nothingness, causing great concern to the medical workers and police officers that approached with great care.
//…Maybe I care because you don’t seem to know how amazing you are… I trust you Orlando, will you trust me… You have to believe that disappointment does not equal abandonment...
Maybe I care because you don’t seem to know how amazing you are… I trust you Orlando, will you trust me… You have to believe that disappointment does not equal abandonment...
Maybe I care because you don’t seem to know how amazing you are… I trust you Orlando, will you trust me… You have to believe that disappointment does not equal abandonment...
disappointment does not equal abandonment...
does not equal abandonment... //
TBC
Author’s Note: The story has taken a very angst-ridden turn and it’s really getting to me -- making it harder to write than I originally expected. I will continue because I know where it leads and I want to (need to?) get there, I’m just finding it a little tough right now. Thanks for bearing with me. rb
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Date: 2005-08-23 12:36 am (UTC)I'll hang in there with you! I have high hopes for the ending :O)
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Date: 2005-08-23 02:03 am (UTC)rb
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Date: 2005-08-23 01:13 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-08-23 02:01 am (UTC)rb
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Date: 2005-08-23 02:15 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-08-23 01:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-08-23 01:59 am (UTC)cheers,
rb
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Date: 2005-08-23 04:01 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-08-23 08:21 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-08-23 08:37 pm (UTC)They deserve much more than to be left broken and unhappy...
cheers,
rb
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Date: 2005-08-23 08:45 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-08-23 08:41 pm (UTC)Thanks for your encouragement.
Cheers,
rb
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Date: 2005-08-23 09:12 am (UTC)And don't worry about us hanging on, I am completely captured by this. There is a lot of angst and hurt, but that makes it more real. Just some little talking and then happily ever after just doesn't happen when two people have so much hurt in their past.
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Date: 2005-08-23 08:38 pm (UTC)*hugs*
rb
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Date: 2005-09-11 10:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-09-12 08:04 pm (UTC)thanks for sticking with it.
cheers, rb