vigorli

Title: Mea Culpa
Author: Imogen
Disclaimer: Don’t know them. No profit made
Rating NC-17 eventually
Pairing VigOrli (central pairing); Orlando/OC
Summary: Abuse ruins everyone’s lives. Who picks up the pieces?
Warnings: Domestic abuse, rape, violence, attempted suicide
Feedback Oh please!!! Yes!!!

Dominic paused as he walked through the door, unconsciously sniffing the air. He was almost surprised when he found it didn't reek of sulphur or brimstone. Even so, it did little to ease his agitation. Had this been for anyone but Orlando (or Elijah) Dominic might very well have backed out of his promise to go back there. The enforced rest that Elijah had made him take had helped considerably but he knew, neither he nor Elijah would relax until they knew that Orlando had recovered.

The flat was quiet, morbidly so. To Dominic, it would always be linked with pain and suffering, not least finding Orlando's unconscious body on the bathroom floor. The brief flashback made him shudder slightly. He couldn't have let Orlando come back here, the place was tainted, a terrible…indescribable aura seemed to have lingered. It looked as if no one had been here for several days. Nothing had been touched since Orlando had been rushed to hospital. That gave Dominic hope that Mark hadn't been back yet. It was as if time had been stopped since Dom had found Orlando all those days ago. As Elijah had succinctly put it, `The fucker's disappeared off the face of the earth.' Why he would've left, Dom didn't know, nor did he care, he wasn't about to question the blessing that had been handed to them. All he could do was appreciate the respite, however temporary.

He almost jumped when he felt someone brush against him, only to find it was Viggo's coat sleeve. For some reason that Viggo had yet to disclose, he had insisted on accompanying Dominic to Orlando's old flat. A half-hearted argument hadn't swayed Viggo in the least, and while Elijah was caring for Orlando, Dominic and Viggo had come to collect Orlando's things. He wasn't sure why, Viggo had never been here. Orlando had bought it just before the break up, and the moving time had tied in with Viggo's dumping of Orlando, so it had been just Orlando's, and later Mark's. Truth be told, Dominic was glad of Viggo's company. "So..." Dom began, swinging his arm around the room "where do you want to start? I figure if we keep doing a room each we should have it finished pretty quickly." The business-like tone surprised both himself and Viggo. Take-charge Dom wasn't his usual persona, but nothing about the past week had been normal.

"Do…do you want me to do the bedroom?" Viggo offered tentatively. Despite his valiant attempts, it was obvious this was not a pleasant experience for Dom, how could it be? The last time he had been here, he'd found his best friend dying. Dom's face suddenly tightened and Viggo immediately worried he had upset Dom in some way, then the face slackened and he nodded shakily.

"Uh…yeah. Thanks. I…I didn't think about that. I…I don't think I could go in there, not r-right now." He mumbled and headed towards the kitchen. Viggo could've sworn he saw flashes of tears roll down the younger man's face, but he decided it wouldn't be wise to comment on it yet. As Dom walked off, Viggo found himself taking in his surrounding as he wandered upstairs. Orlando's apartment, the apartment he'd never seen, that he should have seen. Orlando had bought it with Viggo in mind. It was away from the glitzy showbiz streets that left him feeling so uncomfortable, and it had been near Henry and Exene so Viggo could have visited them more easily.

Orlando could have afforded somewhere bigger, flashier. Somewhere that was nearer his agent, and other `connections' but he'd come to an `everyman' suburb because he knew that's what he, Viggo, had wanted. He hadn't even known about the apartment. He'd been too immersed in convincing himself to break up with Orlando. It wasn't until three weeks after the break-up, that a rather angry Liv Tyler had told him about the flat, which Sean had later confirmed, he'd actually accompanied Orlando several times to view the property, but had been sworn to secrecy. Orlando had been saving it as a surprise, an early anniversary present. It had been a surprise, the fact that Orlando had been willing to inconvenience himself for Viggo, but then as Sean had pointed out, that was the sort of person Orlando was: uncompromisingly giving.

He took in the details of the room. Cream walls, mahogany furniture. Old fashioned and good quality, it had been his father's and Orlando, unsurprisingly, was very attached to it. It didn't quite go with the colour scheme, but it stayed. As with the rest of the apartment it was simply decorated. A few paintings, a surprisingly large bookcase, some ornaments, CD player, soft rug, wooden floors…one of Orlando's sculptures lay, almost hidden behind a curtain. Gently picking it up, he gazed over the glazed object, a rather beautiful blue vase, flecked with gold. He turned it over almost reverently in his hands. Orlando's signature and the date were scratched into the base. He noticed a fine line along the left side; upon closer inspection Viggo was certain it was a re-sealed crack. Was this something Mark had once broken? He could imagine Mark flinging it against the wall in a rage, to destroy something of such beauty was inherently wrong...but perhaps he relished breaking beautiful things…people… the thought made him shudder as he gently put it on the bed for safekeeping.

More mundane objects followed – the rug, large, red and rather old, a few posters: Paul Newman in `The Hustler'; the iconic image of Che Guevara, and a Homer Simpson one dispensing the invaluable advice that: `The answers to life's problems aren't at the bottom of a bottle, they're on TV!'' Viggo had to smile at that, Orlando still the same strange sense of humour, he was glad. He hoped that meant that Orli was still there, that in spite of all the pain, all the destruction that his Orlando was still there, however deeply buried. Looking around the room he suddenly felt like a voyeur. This was Orlando's bedroom, not a communal room. A private place that he'd shared with his lover. A lover that wasn't him, but could've been. How would things have been different if he'd never broken up with Orlando? They could've made love here as Viggo held him close whispering time old endearments.

Had Elijah or Dom held Orlando on the bed, comforting him? How many fights had gone on here? Looking at the bed, he suddenly recalled the details of the abuse. This was where most of the abuse had probably taken place, including the worst crime Mark had committed. Mark had raped him here.

A wave of nausea threatened to overtake him, but he forced down the sickening feeling, as he was forced to face the reality of what had happened here. Orlando had been hurt in this room, more than he would ever be able to imagine. It was a room that should have brought Orlando joy and protection, feelings that he should've bought Orlando. Viggo felt himself suddenly stiffen, he didn't want to be here anymore, but he had to do this for Orlando. He'd promised to help Orlando, be there for him. He just hadn't expected it to…hurt so much.

How on earth was he going to help Orlando if he couldn't even gone inside Orlando's home? How was he supposed to deal with all the rest of the shit that was to come, because he knew this was just the very tip of the iceberg and that frightened him more than he was willing to admit. There would be no quick fix for Orlando, no kiss that healed all wounds and worries, nothing that could erase the past. He was scared of failing, scared that Orlando wouldn't recover, scared that Orlando wouldn't want him, and even more that he would.

It was bad enough that this could happen at all, but to someone like Orlando…his beautiful Orli, who'd never hurt anyone, why should he have to suffer because of other people's stupidity and cruelty? But wasn't that always the way of the world, the innocents suffered because they had things to lose? Shaking his head as if to clear it of his thoughts, he continued on with his task, forcing his emotions aside as he made a visual inventory of what to take. Some things could be left, could be replaced later. Most objects were scattered around the bed, but a diary sat on the bedside table. Would that speak of his abuse, would it tell Viggo everything Mark did or what lead Orlando to that last drastic step? Would it give Viggo some answers or clues to where Mark was?

Unconsciously sitting down on the bed, he reached over to the journal. It was the same style that Orlando had used on the Rings production. Rubber bands held the flyaway pages together, the age clearly shown in the worn colours and creased spine. He ran his fingers over it lovingly. The urge to read through the pages was overwhelming. Biting his lip he forced his fingers still, until something caught his eye. Sticking out slightly was the corner of a photo. Holding his breath, Viggo gently eased out the photo, taking in the picture and felt tears flood into his eyes. It was of him. Him and Orlando to be precise. It was a polaroid, and was fairly old, with creases lining it. It was one Henry had secretly taken, how many years ago now? He knew it'd been taken shortly after the Two Towers premiere. Henry had come for an extended weekend trip, and the Hobbits had been in and out all day, playing (cheating) monopoly and watching crappy Sunday-type movies. It was during a particularly boring one, which no one was paying attention to. Dominic and Billy took it upon themselves to provide an `alternative' commentary for the film, which Orlando seemed to find hilarious, or maybe he was feeling charitable. He and Orlando were getting rather…absorbed in each other, when Henry had suddenly appeared, manic grin on his face and Viggo's camera in hand and started snapping randomly at the group. Some of the results had been rather interesting to say the least, then he had turned the camera and budding artistic eye on him and Orlando.

The smile on Orlando's face was incredible; every inch of his face, his entire body was glowing, there could be no other word to describe it, as his head rested against Viggo's chest, eyes crinkled into a smile, hand outstretched in a futile attempt to stop Henry, although there was no real effort behind the protest. It was his own expression that amazed him. A look of sheer contentment seemed to envelop his whole being; his arms wrapped firmly round Orlando, a look of mirth clear in his eyes. They didn't have a care in the whole world, just a couple loving each other and the world, before he'd started worrying about the press, before the politics of celebrity had reared their ugly head. They hadn't been ‘celebrities’ back then. Viggo still wasn’t all that well known, Orlando had been considering offers for Ned Kelly and Pirates, he'd done an episode of a British drama but he still wasn't recognised out of a blond wig and pointy ears, they'd just been Viggo and Orlando, no artist or Oscar winner.

He couldn't remember exactly when things changed, when he started worrying. Henry had never objected to Orlando, in fact he'd encouraged them to be more open, but then it had been much easier for Henry's then child mind. They were in love and should be happy, if only everyone had looked at things as innocently and purely as a child.

When Henry had first arrived in New Zealand, he'd immediately bonded with everyone, especially with Orli and the Hobbits. They'd spend hours playing video games and generally making nuisances of themselves when not being ‘professional actors’. Henry and Orlando had a mutual adoration of The Simpsons, and he found Dom and Orlando's British sense of humour fascinating, and to Viggo's everlasting despair Sean had made Henry into a dedicated Blades fan (although still referred to it as ‘soccer’ to Beanie, Dom and Orli’s horror), yet another black mark for Boromir of Gondor. Not that Sean had cared, he'd simply offered Viggo a shit-eating grin and pointed out it could’ve been worse – Liv could’ve introduced Henry to the joys of MasterCard.

At first Henry had seen Orlando as a cooler older friend, a sort of older brother, then after learning the truth of Viggo and Orlando's then-budding relationship, he'd been remarkably calm about the whole situation, simply hugged Orlando tightly and welcomed him to the `Domain of Insanity' commonly known as the Mortensen household. Exene had failed appallingly in her role of 'evil ex-wife' and cooed over Orlando until it almost made him nauseous, and she seemed overly fond of Orlando's ass and had no shame about hiding that fact. There was something unsettling about an ex-wife drooling over his boyfriend's ass, no matter how gorgeous it was. Even after he broke up with Orlando she'd remained a huge fan of Orlando's, even rang him a few times, making sure he was OK. He sometimes wondered if the huge posters of Kingdom of Heaven and the Pirates trilogy plastered all over her walls had been deliberate torture devices, he'd left quickly as possible when collecting Henry.

Needless to say she'd given her monumentally stupid ex a very harsh kick up the backside and a sound clobbering after she discovered the details of the break-up. It had been a very surreal experience being yelled at by his furious ex wife for breaking up with his boyfriend. He could still remember the look of disappointment on Henry's face and the anger that had followed. Determined to fix his father's messed up love life, he’d rang Orlando, only to be told by a rather agitated Billy, that he was sorry but Orlando couldn't come to the phone, he was a bit busy at the moment. Henry hadn't been fooled and had heard the background muffled sobs on the other end. It had taken three days for Henry to speak to Viggo after that. He couldn't fathom why Orlando would have kept this one, or indeed a photo of them at all. From the look of it, it'd been handled quite regularly, the creases now white lines, and fingerprints were just about visible in certain light. Did Orlando look at it often, or perhaps had Mark seen it? Had they fought over it? It was a sickening thought, that Orlando might have been hurt because of this photo. A stupid photo of a past relationship. A sudden surge of anger welled up in him. Why the hell couldn't Mark have left it alone? Everyone had an ex of some description, it was part of life. People had different partners, people had to deal with it, what made Mark feel he was exempt from this rule? A part of him still loved Exene, and not just because of Henry. He loved her as a person, just not in love with her. People always seemed to blur that distinction of love and being in love were very different. Carefully he tucked the photo back into the journal, before tentatively placing it in the bag he'd recently procured to store Orlando's valuables. He debated going through the drawers by the bed. Considering some of the stuff he'd kept in the bedside drawer when he and Orlando were together…he didn't want to be reminded that Mark and Orlando had been in a relationship, and sex, at least at some point, had been mutual and consensual.

There was a small part of him, that didn't want to accept Orlando had moved on, regardless of how terrible it had turned out, he didn't want to know that Orlando had lain next to someone else. That another man knew Orlando's body as intimately as he did. The warm colours, comfortable bed were almost a mockery of a loving relationship. To the outsider it would look like a lover's bedroom, warm and safe but Viggo knew better and that made the room, indeed the whole house take on a decided chill. Hearing a sniffle, Viggo's ears pricked and he made his way to the sound…the bathroom. Gently opening the door, he was greeted by Dom hastily wiping his eyes, as he sat on the floor, looking rather lost. Viggo immediately felt for the younger man. He forgot how awful this must be for Dom, and to be back here…to have such memories flood back it wasn't fair on a man who only showed devotion to his friend. "Hey, it's OK" he soothed, not able to think of anything more articulate Dom nodded listlessly. He hadn't imagined it would be so hard, being back here. It was just a room yet it could conjure up such vivid memories and emotions…which Dominic would have done anything to forget. All of a sudden Orlando's lifeless body had come back, he'd been back in the bathroom with a bleeding Orlando and a terrified Elijah and just like that it was gone. The emotion, however hadn't. He couldn't tell Orlando but he was still living in daily terror of losing his friend.

Dr McCoy's words still haunted him – that if he'd been a couple of minutes later Orlando wouldn't have survived. He could still see Orlando's lifeless face in his mind's eye. He couldn't tell Orlando it still haunted him. Dr McCoy had promised that would fade given time and prescribed him some sleeping tablets. He hadn't even told Elijah about that and telling Orlando was out of the question. His friend could barely bring himself to look at his own reflection, Dom had seen him physically wince. His clothes were still far too baggy and tended towards blacks and navies. It seemed anything that hadn't been shapeless and black was too risqué for Orlando to wear.

"I just…didn't think it was going to be this hard y'know? I saw him, Viggo, he was bleeding and I couldn't stop it" his voice trailed off into a whisper. "And you know the real irony of the whole thing is?" he demanded, looking up at Viggo, seemingly challenging him. He let out a short bark of laughter, a harsh sound that would've made Viggo wince had he not heard it so many times before, usually from his own lips, especially over the past few days. Viggo simply shook his head, patiently waiting for the next unsavoury revelation Dom would give him. He privately wondered if anything else could shock him anymore. The fire seemed to leave Dominic very suddenly and he gazed down at the floor, seemingly hypnotized before the spell was broken. "He used to come in here, you know? When Mark got too much, said he felt safe in here. A bloody bathroom felt safe! It's the only room with a lock on it, a big one at that. He sometimes called me when he was in here. I mean nothing like having a gossip with your mate when hiding in the bathroom from your abusive boyfriend is there?" bitterness laced his voice. "Then he goes and tries to fucking kill himself in here. The bathroom was his panic room or something stupid like that. Suppose it would stand to reason he'd come in here…" his voice trailed off as a variety of memories assaulted his brain.

"Vig, do you think he wanted to die? I mean really wanted to?" Dom asked suddenly, a rare vulnerability clear in his voice. "What if he did and I stopped him. He'll hate me," he whispered, as if the thought had only just struck him.

"He'll think I hate him, trying to make him live…"

"Hey don't think like that Dom. If Orlando was determined to die he'd-"

"Viggo, he swallowed three bottles of pills, and slit one of his wrists, he knew what he was doing, this wasn't a spur-of-the-moment choice. God knows how long he was planning it! For all we know he could've been wanting to kill himself for years…and he finally got the chance for peace and I took it away…"

"For God sake Dominic! Of course he won't hate you, he loves you, both you and Lij. You told me he was willing to go back to Mark knowing what would happen, to keep you both safe, and you've both practically killed yourselves trying to protect him, not just being here for him now, but these four years, you’ve done everything you could for each other. Don't ever think Orlando will hate you. Look, I think, hell, I know that Orlando wouldn't have made it if it hadn't have been for you two, it's because of you guys he kept holding on, don't ever doubt that he loves you both."

Dom was rather taken-aback at Viggo's vehemence on the topic, especially considering the state of play between them all up until a few days ago. Not quite knowing what to say in reply he decided to steer back to more practical topics. "I…uh…managed to pack most of the stuff he needs. I mean some of it can be bought again and stuff, the towels need replacing anyway so it's just really the basics, and some of the stuff belongs to…" unable to voice the name he trailed off, feeling slightly lost and rather embarrassed at his rambling but Viggo thankfully didn't comment on it.

"I wondered about some of the stuff in his room, I mean I don't know what belongs to who so…I kinda guessed, could you uh, help me sort the stuff out?" The request was tentative, as if afraid Dom would refuse and disallow him entry back into Orlando's bedroom, but the younger man merely nodded. Seemingly slipping into a business- like mood he followed Viggo to the room. Neither spoke for a moment as Dominic began looking through the bag, making sure the items were Orlando's, until Dom discovered Orlando's journal on the bed. "I didn't know whether to pack that, there's a sculpture too but...I don't know if Orlando wants them back or not" he garbled, feeling completely moronic. Dom's eyes widened considerably at the battered book. "It was lying around," Viggo added, as if he was afraid that Dominic would accuse him of ferreting around to find it.

"I didn't know he even still wrote in it," Dom's voice was quiet, upset. Why had Viggo been able to find it, and Orlando had hidden it from him? Of course it was ridiculous to think like that. Last time Orli had been here was just before…when…then. After all, Orlando had no idea Viggo would ever come back. What did Orlando write…it was unlikely it was anything Dom wanted to read about. Why would he, when he could see the evidence of it everyday – in the battered body, the defeated posture, the dead eyes. It all told him everything he needed to know without reading the words. "I just wasn't sure whether Orlando would want this back, I mean would it maybe remind him…?" Viggo let the sentence hang in the air. Reaching for the journal and gently brushing his fingers over it, Dom smiled slightly.

"He always joked if his movie career didn't work he'd sell them, `The Journals of a Would-Be Actor', and make his fortune with his failure. I thought he stopped keeping it after Mark started loosing his temper. He used to read through them, looking for proof, that sort of thing. In the end, Orli just gave up explaining. It just gave Mark another excuse to hurt him. He threw them away, I saw him, he said it was safer. I didn't know he kept this one."

Flipping the book over, he noticed the paperclip holding the photo. Slipping the book open he gazed at the photo, a startled expression coming over his face as he raked through his hair. This was memories of what love could be...what it should be. He wasn't sure what to do with it, he didn't know whether he could bring himself to show Orlando, would it help him try to recover what he’d lost, or just devastate him as what he’d lost? After all, that was how things had started, by Mark seeing harmless photos, reminders of Orlando's past loves, getting jealous, and right now it could only bring sorrow. He could still remember that day Mark dragged him back; it haunted him, the look in Orlando's eyes as he left, the utter despair…. how Elijah had slumped to the floor, throwing the phone to the floor, tears rolling down his face…that memory was permanently engrained in his mind. Seeing this brought up so many old emotions to the surface, barely healed wounds were cracking open…

"I didn't know Orlando kept any, I thought…I didn't know" Viggo sighed, not sure whether he should be angry or upset. The last week had been such a rollercoaster of emotions it was a miracle that they had made it out at all.

"Sorry" Dom sighed, hearing the confusion in Viggo' voice. He was beyond blaming Viggo for things now. That Viggo was wrong to leave in the first place was now irrelevant. Viggo was here to help Orlando and that was what mattered, and truth be told, Dom was tired. He didn't want to fight anymore, and point the finger and accuse, he wanted Orlando to get better, to see his friend smile, one that reached his eyes, and he wanted Viggo to be the cause of it.

"It's just that Orli found this before…before he tried to leave. It's strange seeing it again. Orlando kept some photos in his diary, you know what he's like with them. He had tons to begin with, of everyone from every set he'd been on…they just started disappearing. He used to have them plastered on his wall and stuff, it was nice, like a living testament to his work and life…God I thought I'd never see this one again. Henry took it didn't he?" suddenly a laugh bubbled from Dom's throat as the memory flooded back to him, a warm feeling flowing through him.

"Henry can really pick his moments" he grinned, "God, we all looked like crap that day. No offence Vig, but you looked like you've been dragged through a ditch backwards"

"Yeah it's called the `Orlando Experience' and no offence taken. I seem to remember you looked particular spiffy with your panda eyes and designer ripped jeans." He baited, a small smile wavering around his lips. He longed to fall back into their old pattern of jokes and teasing. All he wanted was to try and make things right, and that included mending broken friendships. Predictably Dominic glared.

"Oh that's rich, coming from a guy who's dyed his hair every colour of the rainbow, worn a feather boa and would quite happily walk round the street starkers, not to mention that his boyfriend had the worst taste in shirts known to mankind, scratch that, the whole bloody universe!" Viggo couldn't stop himself from chortling at Dominic's bizarre and unfortunately accurate description. God how things had changed. He suddenly felt a huge void within, a deep longing to return there, back to the bizarre life that had been New Zealand, coming back in full force. It had truly been a life altering experience, and without a doubt the best period of his entire life. It felt so strange and so good to laugh, to recall long forgotten pranks or anecdotes.

"He still loves you," Dom said, after the laughter died down, "that's why he kept this crappy picture. I mean he's hardly at his best there, and no offence but you look pretty pissed out your brains too. Seems we taught him well," he sighed.

"How is he, Henry I mean?"

"He's fine, making a much better job of life than his father. He misses you guys a lot. He was really pissed off with me over the break-up. He tried everything, even rang Orli a couple of time. I was so afraid other kids would make his life hell if me and Orli had come out…God knows why I thought he couldn't give as good as he got. I mean he's got Exene's DNA for God sakes, I pity anyone who tries to cross those two... Oh God I've been such a sodding fool!"

"You've spent too much time around us Brits, and yes you are a fucking fool, no, sorry you were a fool. The point is you're here now, when Orlando needs you. I don't know how Lijah and me would have made it through the last few days. Just make sure you don't piss this second chance away," he warned

"Second chance? You think I've even got a shot?"

"Depends on Orlando, the best you can do is try. Just be there for him. This isn't going to be fun or sexy or anything a relationship should be. I'd be happy if you guys got back together, but you've got to face the possibility that you might not. For all we know Orli might want out of relationships for good, we'll just have to wait and see. But if anyone can get through to him, it's you. And yes he'll want the vase, it's one of his favourite objects," he added, almost offhandedly.

Dom finished his assessment of the objects in the bag, seemingly satisfied that they had gathered everything that Orlando would want; he zipped the bag, a grim smile on his face, but one which seemed strangely mingled with satisfaction. "I never wanted to come back here…not after what happened, not after what you told me. It all probably happened here, right?" Dom asked as he gazed around the bedroom. It seemed bleak now, the walls devoid of posters, the rug gone… the bed sheets would stay. As beautiful as they were, Dominic couldn't bring himself to touch them, barely even look at them, they disgusted him. They would have to be destroyed. There was no way he'd let Orlando take them again. They were tainted. It was only now that he realised the red was a crimson colour. Crimson… blood…no he wouldn't think about it. He couldn't because if he did he wouldn't be able to leave. He would crumple to the floor and sob, and wait for Mark, he would wait forever until the man came back and he would kill him without hesitation, so he pushed the thoughts away.

While downstairs he'd debated on taking the Play Station, or which of Orlando's favourite mugs and cushions to take; perhaps he wanted his books back, or the teddy bear he'd had since he was five? There was so much, so many memories woven into the rooms. Each were linked with pain and comfort…each object he'd picked up had told a story of Orlando's life, held a secret. A small part of Dominic wanted to leave everything behind. If Orlando were to truly make a fresh start, would it help having these objects around? He'd deliberated over every object. How did he know which objects would bring back terrible memories to Orlando. Had a coffee mat could have been thrown at Orlando, he'd stopped suddenly when he'd see the dent in the wall, from when Mark had punched right through it, the hole had never been filled in properly, leaving an uneven surface. He winced slightly at the memory. During his hunting, he'd found one of Orlando's numerous pendants stuffed behind the sofa, it had taken some effort to pull it out. It was a crystal one from Beanie, a Christmas present a couple of years ago. Dominic could remember one particular Christmas there had been a terrible fight when Beanie had given Orlando the pendant as part of his present.

They'd not seen each other for six months and Beanie deeply missed his `prissy elf' and ‘deranged hobbits’ and had rang up to wish everyone a merry Christmas. After exchanging laughter and pleasantries, Dom had been about to pass the phone to Orlando, but the shattering noise had made him stop, as he'd silently witnessed the scene from just behind the door. He could still remember the tears streaking down Orlando's face, how he'd been crouching on the floor, Mark standing over him as Orlando all but cringed. The voices had been muffled, but there had been no doubt that Mark had been furious, something had been broken and was lying irrevocably shattered at Orlando's feet.

Dom had mentally shouted at Orlando, wanted to beg him to get up and stand up to Mark, but by that time Orlando had ceased trying to calm Mark, or even reject his accusations. He'd come to believe them. Witnessing the crumbled ball his friend had become, Dominic's fury could have easily eclipsed Mark's at that moment. He'd quickly broken off the conversation with Beanie, claiming Orlando was busy with Mark and promising he'd get him to ring back. Beanie had merely sighed, murmuring something about `overworking' and clearly unconvinced by Dom's explanation but had reluctantly let it slide. As had everyone else over time. For a moment Dom had mentally debated about ringing Beanie back, and confessing everything that Mark had been doing to Orlando.

It would've been so easy to ring him, Beanie would have dropped everything to help, he adored Orlando and had become part of his extended family. He'd almost re-dialled the number, but when he'd heard Mark's chilling threats to Orlando… he'd kept quiet. If someone else knew, Orlando would be hurt even worse, he knew it and he couldn't allow Orlando to suffer even more than he had it had made him sick to his stomach. The worst period had been just over a year ago; by then Mark's temper had been at best volatile, the smallest thing sent him into a fierce wrath. Mark's criticisms of Orlando had become even harsher, more intrusive. That was when the pendants had come into focus. Everyone knew Orlando loved his pendants. It’s been only after he’d fished out the pendant, that he’d noticed something else catch his eye. A plain silver ring. Few would’ve guessed it’s significance, aside from the fact that Orlando never took it off. Dom knew exactly what the significance had been. It’d been the ring Viggo gave Orlando, not a true commitment ring, but a significant symbol, none the less.

Viggo had been a little wary of getting an official commitment ring, but Orlando had adored it. Even after the break-up it remained on Orlando's hand, and that Orlando was notoriously private over it’s origins. As with everything else in Orlando’s life, Mark had eventually discovered the truth behind it and all hell had broken loose, the ring had disappeared soon after and to find it again now. Of course Mark hadn't initially known what it meant…but, as always he found out, and then things changed, really changed. The pendants slowly went, one by one. The jade stone from Beanie, a paua stone from Liv, a shell from Johnny, beads from Billy… the list went on and on. People didn't realise the disappearing items, not at first, or thought he'd lost them. Except that Orlando was careful with things. His sentimental streak would not allow himself to lose or damage gifts…

There'd been other gifts too, for birthdays and Christmases or `just because' presents, those were the ones that angered Mark the most, presents equalled affairs. After a while Orlando didn't dare disagree with Mark, and any gift from a friend or co-star was hidden, it broke Dom's heart to see his friend cave in so easily – these were pieces of Orlando's heart he was being forced to give up, they weren't just bits of jewellery to him and Mark knew it. They all held a special significance, each telling a story or holding a memory of a person. Before Mark the pendants had increased, as each film brought new friends and experiences, his life was worn in his jewellery, the rings and bracelets having words of love and inspiration carved into them. Ironically, at first Mark had liked them, they were part of Orlando, what helped shape Orlando into what he'd become. He'd been curious about them, and loved hearing Orlando's animated stories of how he gained each one, but gradually that humour had faded, he didn't know why, perhaps when Johnny gave him one hug or gift too many. Maybe it was when Beanie had given him a beautifully carved ivory elephant, or a bracelet Livvie had brought for him

It didn't matter, soon they were cast off one by one. Despite his fear of Mark's wrath, Orlando couldn't bring himself to get rid of them. Eventually they had been passed between him and Lij for safekeeping. Of course, Orlando would deny the abuse, but Beanie was smart, he knew the difference between accidents and brute force, and would have got the details out of Bean somehow. There was something about the man that made him impossible to lie to. He would be able to help, after all Beanie was big, no one pissed around with him, at least no one without a death wish. He was notoriously protective of those he loved, and he loved all the Fellowship dearly.

Even if Sean couldn't help right then, maybe he could’ve get hold of that Bana dude…he loved Orlando and packed a powerful punch, as did Karl…or… someone… anyone who could help, at least physically keeping Mark away. But even then over a year ago, he'd seen something in Orlando, something so utterly foreign in his friend it scared him: hopelessness. In the years he'd known him, he had never seen Orlando look so utterly defeated. Orlando had never been the kind to accept defeat gracefully, he fought long and hard but now…seeing him so broken, it had terrified him; perhaps he had known, deep down that Orlando would do this, such a desperate action, but it didn't make it any easier, nothing could.

As he went around the rooms, he suddenly released how lonely he felt. No one apart from Elijah had the blindest idea what he had gone through. It was not only Orlando who had lost friends, so had he. By loving Orlando enough, he'd had to lose his other friends. Of course, he could still see them, Mark wasn't his boyfriend, but it was never the same. The jokes weren't as carefree, and the sombreness of the two hobbits was noticed by all. Orlando's missing presence did nothing to hide this and gulfs had grown between formally impenetrable friendships. There had been no rows or accusations, for they were still his family, but things had gradually stopped. Orlando hadn't come and Dominic hadn't wanted to leave him to the mercies of Mark, so he stayed. Elijah not wanting to lose his best friends had stayed too. Neither he nor Elijah had ever talked about this, or censured Orlando for it, what would be the point?

It had been their choice to stay with Orlando, and given the choice again, even with his current knowledge he would've done the same, what else could he have done? Abandon his friend, his brother, to Mark? That was not an option, it never had been. Billy had been the worst. It was impossible to lie to the man who he cared for so much. The gentle, yet penetrating eyes were something Dominic would have done anything to avoid. He couldn't risk his friend seeing the depths of misery and fear that lay there. So he'd lied, and he hated every second of it. To see Billy nodding in acceptance, but clearly aware of the falsehood of his excuses had been hard…horrible. Strangely Kate, of all people, had been the most difficult to placate over the situation. Her deceptively `girl next door' appearance was masked by an inner steel, that most Pro-Wrestlers would envy. When Orlando's excuses had started coming in thick and fast, Kate had put her foot down. There was nothing like an ex girlfriend to get a man back in action she'd smirked, yet she'd also sensed an underlying worry, and worryingly for him, a seeming recognition of what Orlando was going through.

When he and Lij had made the tenth excuse for Orlando's cancellation of a meal out in a month. At the time, Mark having completely swollen up his jaw, and possibly dislocated his wrist, she'd driven right over and given them a harsh talking to over their friend, claimed they were failing in the friends department, Elijah's eyes had turned to narrow slits and a argument had been brewing. Unfortunately Orlando had chosen that moment to go downstairs and having pushed past them, she quickly made her way over to a startled and rather terrified Orlando. Of course she'd seen everything, and Orlando had looked as if he'd wanted to crumble up and die, but Kate had merely walked forward and pulled Orlando into a bone-crushing hug before quietly leading him upstairs, with a brief look to the two hobbits warning them not to disturb them. He never found out what they'd talked about in the two hours Kate was upstairs, but before leaving Kate had apologized and hugged them both tightly, clearly with tears in her eyes. Her phone calls and e-mails after that were doubled in length and frequency, until Mark disconnected the net, the phone had just happened to `loose power' several times too.

He remembered the last time he'd seen her with Orlando, she'd been clearly crying, and pulled Dominic aside, before she left. It had become all too clear she had a pretty good idea what was going on; he'd recognised that look all too well, the one of desperation he'd seen on the other friends' faces as Orlando had slowly drifted away from them. Now it was happening to Kate too, there had been an all too familiar sorrow mingled with anger. Every time she'd tried to pry details out of Orlando he'd changed the topic, a forced smile on his face; it was the same with everyone else, even him and Lij, everyone knew something was wrong, even if they didn't know the details, and tried to help, to talk to Orlando, but nothing had worked. Orlando had first been too ashamed to admit the abuse, and later when it became unavoidable he was too frightened, the threat of Mark harming his friends hanging heavily on him. Unable to help or stand the sight of Orlando withdrawing into himself, they'd slowly stopped, one by one, first asking, then visiting. It wasn't that they didn't care, quite the opposite. Everyone cared, they loved Orlando. He couldn't recall a single co-star that hadn't fallen in love with Orlando. It was just his nature. He drew people to him, moths to a flame, so to speak. But when people were on the other side of the world it was difficult to help.

The fact was, if they had known, the rest of the Fellowship, or any of Orlando's other friends, they would've come, would have done everything in their power to help, but Mark pre-empting this had slowly and subtly cut off all his ties. That was why Dominic had stayed, no matter how terrible or lonely things got, because he had to. He refused to let Mark win, even if Orlando gave up, Dominic wasn't willing to let that happen. That was his way of fighting Mark, and Mark, had the brains to know that appearances were important. Dominic and Elijah were Orlando's best friends, they practically lived with him, if they had disappeared people would talk and the perfect relationship Mark had sought to cultivate for audiences and the media would be shattered, irrevocably. How he wanted his friends back, he wanted the Fellowship together again, all of them, Miranda, Karl and Eric. Truthfully he wanted someone else to shoulder the burdens he'd been forced to carry for the past four years. He wanted to cry and lose control, to let the world know he wasn't alright, that he was furious and scared shitless. That he wanted to be a child again and be taken care of. But he didn't, because that was what Orlando needed to do, and until Orlando could he would rein in his own wants and emotions. It didn't stop his wishing though. That was about to change. It was time Orlando got his pendants back. And the ring. He was going to make sure it never left Orlando's finger again. With a last dispassionate glance around the room, Viggo grabbed the bag.

"Any objections to getting the hell out here?" Dom asked, although he didn't need or expect a response. Viggo was only too happy to leave this hell-pit; as he slung the bag over his shoulder, Dom grabbed one or two more items before they headed out. Both of them knew this was more than packing, it was, they hoped, closing a chapter on Orlando's life. Neither man had any intention of ever coming back here, and more importantly, letting Orlando return.

*****

Elijah put the phone down after a rather emotionally draining conversation with Bast. Having to explain to your best friend's cousin of said best friend's abuse was not easy. Fortunately Bast wasn't the type to 'freak out' easily, which often came in handy when photographing the more...diva-ish of celebrities. It appeared Bast had gained those skills, having worked for a couple of shelters before switching to photography, and Bast was all too aware the depths of cruelty some relationships could reach. To his amazement, and chagrin, Elijah found Bast hadn't yelled or screamed when Elijah, probed by Bast's gentle questions had finally admitted the depths of the abuse, but hysterics just weren't Bast's way, they never had been. He took the news with amazing calm, if an infinite sadness but he hadn't been shocked.

A part of Elijah had to wonder if Bast had somehow known this, how he wasn't sure. He wasn't the first who suspected what was going on. It's wasn't really hard to see what had been happening, if you knew what to look for. Bast had simply listened to Elijah, not interrupting during his tirades of anger and grief. Bast had even, reluctantly, promised not to let Sonia and Samantha know what had happened when Elijah had tentatively asked him (half expecting to be refused), at least not yet. More than anyone Bast knew that Orlando wouldn't be able to face his family if they found out. Bast hadn't been happy, feeling Sam and his aunt deserved to know, but he'd agreed that, right then, Orlando's mental well-being had to come first. He knew when Bast made a promise, it was unbreakable. Ironically, it had ended up with Bast comforting Elijah, surely it should've been the other way around? Now the conversation had ended, Elijah felt guilty for his clinginess but just ten minutes ago, the over-whelming emotions had been too much, four years of worries, and one of the hardest weeks in his life had all spilled fourth, all with Bast's comforting voice. At times like that it wasn't hard to see how Bast and Orlando were related, despite their vastly different features, and at least on the surface, their personalities both possessed an infinite well of patience and empathy.

He was more than a little relieved when he heard the door click, signalling Dom and Viggo's return from the flat. He hadn't been happy with Dominic's insistence to go over there. The reality was, however unpleasant, that they didn't know where Mark was and Elijah was more than wary about his friend going there and meeting Mark. Elijah knew that Mark would hold them personally responsible for not only Orlando's suicide attempt but his desertion as well, and this time there would be no amount of Orlando's pleading that would keep them safe, and knowing Mark he would find Orlando, the question was when he would make himself known. The idea that he could turn up while Dom, and especially Viggo were at the flat frightened him, God knows what Mark would do to Viggo….who he saw as the cause of all his woes…

He'd been slightly on edge since they went, his mind replaying various scenarios, none of them pleasant, so it was more than a relief to hear they were safe. There was also a small part of him, that was relived he hadn't gone. As selfish as it was, Elijah could only be relaxed when Dom suggested he was left behind with Orlando, he hadn't want to seem like a coward, but going to that house again...he couldn't do it, not after what he now knew. He couldn't go back there, not without breaking down in some over-the-top way. The two men were quiet and withdrawn as they came upstairs, a large duffle bag slung over Viggo's shoulder, a few items in Dom's hands, and a grim countenance on both men's features at once told Elijah that it had been every bit as painful as he'd imagined it would be. Briefly hugging Dom, trying to bring his friend some feeling of security he turned his attention to Viggo, and pulled him into a tight hug as well. At first Viggo seemed slightly stilted in the embrace, but soon found himself hugging Elijah back full force. At this point words seemed rather redundant to try and express their emotions.

Elijah poked his head around the door, to find Orlando had drifted off to sleep. Gently shaking his friend, unsurprisingly Orlando was more than a little reluctant to wake up but seeing the faint line of a smile through his sleep-ridden view, he slowly creaked his eyes open. "Hey sleepy head, didn't know I was that boring to be around" he joked softly, Orlando smiled silently at the gentle attempt at humour, and he quickly drifted out of his dream state.

"Who was on the phone?"

"…My agent’s found some production gig she thought I might be interested in" he lied, unable to tell Orlando about his conversation with Bast. Orlando could barely get over Viggo, and themselves knowing what had happened, let alone his family back in England. "That's great!" Orlando enthused, suddenly sounding quite animated as he beamed at Elijah, but held back the hug that Elijah had almost expected. Due to Bast's advice, Elijah knew Orlando had to be the one to take the initiative on any intimate movement, even a hug could be perceived as a threat, because where Mark was concerned it was, and could land Orlando a nasty bruise. How they were going to turn that warped conditioning around nagged at Elijah constantly.

The truth was he had had a call from his agent Nicole, but it had been two weeks ago, before this happened, when Mark was still here. Elijah had been rather reluctant to accept it, not the offer itself, which was an amazing opportunity, especially for someone in his age bracket to produce a film, but rather to leave Orlando at this time. Although the filming was essentially near, he wouldn't be on hand 24/7 for Orlando, thoughts of what could happen if he left niggled at him until under Nic's cajoling he'd given a half hearted `I'll get back to you', generally known in `actor- speak' as `thanks but no thanks'. "So…what did you say?" Orlando prodded, grateful to steer the topic away from himself for once. Sensing the plead behind the question, Elijah paused. "I need to think about it first Orli, I mean it's a big decision. I'm still really young"

"Elijah! You're 28, for God sake that's not old! I thought you always wanted to produce or direct, why give up on that?"

"I…hey, Dom's back from…y'know. Umm…Viggo's here too, do you wanna see them? Sounds like they got some pretty interesting stuff that was buried there," Elijah exclaimed, his voice suddenly sounding too bright and cheerful. Orlando wasn't sure why Lij suddenly changed the topic, but he wasn't about to confront Elijah about it, God knows he'd done it often enough over the last few years. Suddenly Elijah's words hit him. Viggo. Viggo was here, right now, in Elijah's house and he looked like utter crap. Since his release earlier that day, his grooming had taken a back seat. Not that he should care about his appearance around Viggo anyway, the man had seen him first thing in the morning with an awesome cold, but this was different. He and Viggo were no longer together, and it was rather awkward for Viggo to see him like this, but he also knew Viggo's determination. If Viggo wanted to stay, no force on earth, or otherworldly would prevent him. Besides he should at least thank Viggo for assisting Dom this morning. Nodding slowly, he indicated for Elijah to let them in. Dom wasted no time on plonking the exceedingly heavy bag on the bed, before he flopped down in a chair, Viggo, looking more than a little uncomfortable hovered slightly at the door.

"You can come in Viggo, I'm not going to bite" Orlando called out, and was suddenly mortified. Where did that come from?? How on earth could he joke at a time like this, when his friends had been going out of their minds, why did he say that? Why??! But noticing the small smile dancing around Viggo's lips, he felt himself ease slightly, as Viggo came more fully into the room. No words were spoken for a full five minutes, as if the four men were suddenly acutely aware of the difficultly of the situation, also the realization, that they actually hadn't all been together (and conscious) since…well the Break Up. Viggo hadn't sat with Orlando while Dom and Lij were there and vice versa, and now they were all here, and no one could think of a damn word to say. Typical.

"Christ almighty Orli, do you know how much crap we found back there?" moaned Dom, rubbing his neck for emphasis, in a desperate attempt to break the ice. Turning back to Elijah, he wiggled his eyebrows in a teasing manner, grinning as he threw Orlando some sort of caramel coloured fuzz ball.

Orlando’s eyes almost teared up as he carefully inspected it to find it was his teddy bear, Aloysius, named from the 'Brideshead Revisited' bear. Elijah didn't get the name, and had decided it was too hard to pronounced, so he'd taken to calling it ‘Orlibear’ and much to Orlando's annoyance, it had quickly caught on to the rest of the cast. 'Orlibear' it became. The bear had been one of his first presents on arriving in New Zealand and had held it close to his heart ever since. Orlando had been missing home, and England in general, apart from the inability to have a decent cup of tea (also much lamented by Beanie) he'd left his 'creature comforts' behind, so Elijah's solution had been to buy him a 'proper English bear' that had been when Orlando realised how nutty and wonderful Elijah was. The gentle mockery of the T-shirt however, was gone, as Orlando gently inspected the bear.

"It's lost some stuffing" he murmured, not quite sure what else to say, blinking back the tears. He loved this bear, it'd been a ridiculous source of comfort to him throughout the years. A `thank you' seemed too trite for it's return. Dom merely smiled, a sort light visible in his eyes. "S'OK mate. Knew you wouldn't want to be without your bear. Important things they are. Oh we also got these back for you" he added, this time all joking gone, as he gently set the tangle of pendants down in Orlando's lap. "I figured you might want them back now that…well…that we've found them" he finished lamely.

"I…uh…" the words seemed to be stuck in this throat, he wouldn't cry… not this time. "I thought I'd never see them again," he whispered, his voice sound scratchy, as he took in each pendant, tracing them lovingly, gazing at the long forgotten objects with awe and delight. Memories came flooding back on him. To many, these objects would seem meaningless; an old t-shirt, a battered teddy bear, a random assortment of pendants, but to him they meant the world, because it symbolized his world, the world he'd been denied with Mark. If he could have these back, maybe it was a sign that he could begin his life over again.

"God…I…I don't know what to say. You didn't have to go back for this stuff. I was worried about you." He finally looked up at the two men, a mixture of happiness and sorrow playing along his face. Dom looked over to Viggo for a moment, not quite sure how to respond.

"It was no bother Orlando," Viggo spoke up, his eyes meeting with Orlando's for the first time since that meeting at the hospital.

"It was a stupid risk, please don't go back again, either of you. I don't want anything to happen to you." The words had more than worry lacing them. There was a genuine fear lying there, which was, sadly, not out of place. "We were OK" Viggo replied softly, his eyes never leaving Orlando's. Sensing a potential Moment arising, the two hobbits, quietly exited the room, and could only pray that the talking would continue. With the abandonment of his beloved friends, the gulf between Viggo and Orlando seemed to increase ten fold. He didn't want to do this, not now, not ever. Being around Viggo was too raw, too painful. Though he hadn't said anything, he's been terrified when he heard of Viggo's determination to go back to his flat. If Mark had been there…no he wouldn't go there. Viggo was safe, and he was here. That was all that mattered, all that could matter at the moment.

"I wish you hadn't gone," whispered Orlando, glancing around the room, trying vainly to avoid looking at Viggo.

"I just wanted to help, I thought Dom could use a hand, there was a lot of stuff," he breathed, trying to keep his voice level, while he internally cursed the hobbits for their desertion. He understood, a small part even gave them a rallying cheer complete with pom-poms but all that his brain could mainly make out was ` Me. Orlando. Alone. Crap.' Ah, the joys of having an eloquent mind…

"You shouldn't have gone! You know what could've happened!" Orlando cried, suddenly feeling a mixture of terror and anger well up inside of him. Was it some macho act Viggo felt he had to keep up, fighting his boyfriend for Orlando's honour? What did he think he had to prove? Why go into the lion's den when it could return at any moment.

"It was fine, he wasn't there Orli" the nickname slipped out before he could stop it.

"He hasn't been back since you were brought to the hospital. It looks like he's skipped town, there wasn't any risk, I promise," He tried to soothe Orlando, pushing himself off the wall and taking the seat previously held by Dominic.

"Bullshit!" the vehemence of that shocked Viggo, after witnessing first hand Orlando's shrinking violet behaviour this was not expected.

"He's still here, do you really think he's just going to leave? A guy like Mark doesn’t just quit things, or people. He'll find out Viggo, about what I tried to do, that I'd left and he won't let it lie. He's just waiting Viggo and I don't want you around when he decides to make reappearance. You don't know what he's capable of." Viggo almost flinched at the brutal honesty of that statement.

"Orli, he's not-"

"Don't you dare Viggo Mortensen! Don't you dare treat me like a hysterical child-"

"Then don't act like one!"

Instantly he regretted his harsh words, seeing Orlando's face close up he wanted to hit himself. Why the hell was he getting angry with Orlando for? Maybe because he knew, deep down Orlando was right, that Mark was still here. He couldn't think about that, not right now. He had the possibility of making things right with Orlando, maybe even the faintest flick of a new start with him, and the idea Mark could come and destroy that was unbearable. Also on a deep level, Orlando's statement of Mark's anger sickened him. Orlando, more than anyone knew exactly what Mark was capable of, and it only served as a reminder of his failure to Orlando on so many levels. A twisted part of his brain, that he would not respond to had almost wished Mark had appeared, so that he could've had the chance to have some attempt at revenge on Orlando's tormentor.

"God I'm so sorry! I didn't mean that! I'm sorry," Viggo mumbled, shame colouring his tone. Orlando slowly nodded, as if still reeling from Viggo's heated accusation.

"It's OK-"

"No, it's not, I'm being a dickhead, and that's the last thing you need or deserve. I meant what I said Orlando, I just want to make things right, if you still want to hate me that's fine-"

"Hate you?! Where did that come from? I don't hate you Viggo, I never have,"

"But…how…why?"

"Because I can't…I never could. I don't want to hate you Viggo, I did try for a long time, I was so hurt and angry, but I never hated you even then. I don't have the energy to do this by myself. I want you around, but I don't know if I can trust you. You might want to stick around, but will you? You left before Viggo, what's to stop you from doing it again and again? If you want out at some time, or just want to get me better, then I'd rather you left. I can’t pick up the pieces when you leave again. I'm not expecting anything from this, I don't want a nursemaid, I want someone I can trust. Can you do that Viggo?" Despite the directness, the tone was pleading, the eyes begging.

Viggo paused before responding. He must appear like such a coward in Orlando's eyes, always abandoning him, giving up on them…and he could say why. Why he had felt the necessity to ruin something so wonderful, perhaps it was a masochistic streak, who knew? He didn't know what would happen, either between them, or to Orlando but he did know he wanted to be there when it unfolded, even if it wasn't an outcome he desired, even if Orlando told him to fuck off, or wanted someone else, he wanted to have at least stood his ground this time.

"Orlando..."

"Viggo I'm serious I won't hold it against you if you don't want to stay through all of this. I don't know whether I'll get better Viggo, is that what you want? Will you still want to be with me if I accidentally flinch when you touch me, or if I freeze when you want to make love to me? I don't think I can do the normal couple things. I want to, please believe that, I want to feel normal and be like a real couple, but I can't promise anything Viggo. This is a one-way ticket and I don't want you to take it if you're not sure…I don't want you to suffer through this when you don't have to. If you want out just say so. I'll always be grateful you were here for Dom and Lij but-"

"Orlando, I want to stay. No matter what, even if you don't ever want me to touch you, I want to stay and find out if that's the case. I want to see if I can make you smile again, I want you to know what a selfish idiot I've been and I don't expect anything in return, I swear. I just want you to be happy, even if it's just as a friend but I want to stay to find out. I don't want to leave you again Orlando. Not ever. I promise." The resolve in his voice resonated across the room. All Orlando could do was nod, words simply wouldn't come.

****

Dr McCoy pinched her temples in frustration. It had not been a good day and a headache was developing and she still had another three hours before she was finally released from duty. She'd been finishing off Orlando's file, one which hopefully she would never had to see again, when she noticed the front detail sheet was missing. Confused, she rifled through the spread out papers for the missing sheet, groaning in frustration. She couldn't imagine why it was missing, except when the receptionist sometimes needed details for visitors, but even so there was highly personal information on the sheet, especially for someone like Orlando that she wasn't comfortable with prying eyes viewing. She knew all too well how valuable it could be in the wrong hands. Heading over to the reception desk, she was greeted by Alex, having only been working here two months she seemed to be a bit overwhelmed, having murmured "ER wasn't ever like this." Dr McCoy had grinned at that and replied "Hollywood never is. Especially when they have George Clooney on set."

"Hey have you seen the front sheet for Mr Bloom?" she asked, trying not to let her wariness show.

"Umm…yeah. Some guy wanted some details about Orli…uh I mean Mr Bloom earlier today. He was sort of cute,"

"That's good to know, but why did he want Mr Bloom's medical information?"

"Didn't say, just said he knew Or-Mr Bloom and wanted to see if he was OK. Said he was an old friend from when Mr Bloom was in England. I mean he was English, or something weird like that, he had an accent and everything, the other guy I mean."

Dr McCoy tried to reign in her frustration at the nonchalance of the girl. Alex was a nice girl, if rather oblivious to the `bigger picture'

"Did you just give it to him? Without any proof of ID?"

"NO! I've got the sheet here, he just want a few details, he knew a lot about Mr Bloom, like all personal stuff. Not the crap from the web sites y'know, the proper stuff. Y'know he looked a lot like his boyfriend…God I can never remember. Tall and dark. They make a really gorgeous couple but I heard something about the guy two timing Orli or so some of the tabloids are saying anyway. Personally, I think it's that girl who-"

"Alexandra! I need you to think carefully, try to remember the conversation, it's really important, did he say who he was or what he was doing with them?" Dr McCoy couldn't hide the urgency any more. She had a terrible feeling she knew where this was going.

"Sorry, Dr McCoy, he was kinda cute, I didn't really think...um…let me think… Shit he told me like half an hour ago…Nigel, or possibly Martin I think, I wrote it down somewhere. I think," Dr McCoy looked as the poor girl kept biting her lip. She knew Alex was a bit overwhelmed working here, and felt a pang of sympathy. Alex felt rather startled at McCoy's outburst, and had a horrible feeling that the situation she was in now with Dr McCoy was not good. Shit.

At Alex's rambling Dr McCoy began to sense feelings of relief flowing through her. "Oh wait hang on, Mark! His name was definitely Mark, didn't give a last name, I guess he sorta wanted to be anonymous y'know? Isn't it like, really kinda weird though that he's got Orli’s boyfriend's name, I mean, what are the odds, seriously? Hey what if it was him? He looked really similar. He was wearing sunglasses and stuff so it was kinda difficult to tell, but I bet he was here to visit. God that's cute. Why do guys get such great boyfriends..." she rambled "God why does he have to be gay, it's not fair!"

Dr McCoy wasn't listening any longer, a feeling of unaccountable dread welling up within her.

TBC