vigorli

Title: The Disturbance (6 of ?)

Author: me

Rating: NC-17 overall

Characters/Pairing: Orliggo

Genre: angst, thriller, drama, romance, sci-fi

Disclaimer: I don’t own these men or their images, nor do I know their sexual orientations. This is purely fiction, a fabrication of my mind and a horrible vacation. No infringement intended, nor am I making money. Enjoy it for what it is, a story, nothing more.

Warning: M/M sex, supernatural occurrences, self abuse/mutilation, mental instability, dark thoughts and overall plot line

Summary: A disturbance in the water creates havoc in the young actor’s world and his mind. If his friends and lover believe him in time, they may be able to save him from the dark powers encompassing his mind.

Chapter Six- The Watermark

“Stupid, stupid, stupid!” Orlando cursed himself as he snuck into the make-up trailer and headed straight for the bathroom. After locking the door, he sunk to the floor and leaned his head back against the wall. He was so cold and sore all of a sudden. Just the day catching up with him, his mind would have thought if it wasn’t for the blood now covering his healed hands.

Grabbing some tissues, he balled them into his fists and squeezed as hard as he could, serving to vent some of his anger and to stop the bleeding. He knew he should have listened to Viggo last night when he told him to leave the tiny cuts covered for another day. The idea of calling off had also crossed Viggo’s lips, but Orlando had shot it down before it had fully developed. He would not look weak in front of them.

So, he had taken the bandages off his hands before he had gone down for breakfast. They had seemed fine, all scabbed up and a healing pink color surrounding their edges. They hadn’t even bothered him while he was filming. But yet they just started to bleed.

Pulling the tissues away, he watched as blood began to trickle to the surface once again, pooling in his palm. He pulled himself up from the floor and rummaged through his bag, pulling out the bandages he had shoved in there this morning. Wrapping up the tiny cuts, Orlando began to strip off the costume.

As he started to pull the sweaty shirt over his head, pain flared in his shoulder again, taking his breath away. Once the shirt was finally off, he turned to the mirror to see fresh blood covering the bandage wrapped around the surfing injury. Groaning, he was about to take the covering off and change it, when there was a knock on the bathroom door.

“Love, are you in there? Johnny said you came back here early. Are you okay?” Viggo’s voice drifted across the barrier and soothed Orlando’s sudden anger.

Taking a deep breath, Orlando pulled his t-shirt on before answering. “I’m fine, love. Just changing. I’ll be out in a moment.” He didn’t want to worry Viggo more than he already was, so he decided to leave the bandage alone. It would stop bleeding on its own time and everything would be fine. Or so he hoped.

Stripping quickly out of the tight breeches and stifling boots, Orlando pulled on a pair of jeans and his sneakers. The bandage wrappers were stuffed into the bottom of his bag, as were the bloody tissues. He couldn’t afford to leave any evidence around here. Then, he pulled the long curls into a ponytail, before opening the door.

Viggo was there, sitting in his make-up chair staring at him. A smile curved up his lips when the younger man came out of the bathroom. Whatever looks of worry or sadness that had been there before was gone now. Replaced by love and happiness.

“Hiya,” he whispered. He stood up and gently wrapped his arms around the younger man’s waist, pulling him in close for a delicate kiss. “I missed you this morning.” Each word was punctuated by a kiss that traveled further and further from his mouth. “No Orlando in my bed, or in my shower, or eating breakfast. You’re lucky I’m not the jealous type,” he finally whispered in Orlando’s ear.

“Mmm, guess so.” Orlando snuggled closer to Viggo, enjoying the fires the butterfly kisses ignited in his body, melting the icy that seemed to flow through him. “I missed you too, but I’m hungry.” As if to prove his point, his stomach grumbled and Viggo could do nothing but laugh.

“Okay, pirate boy. Let’s get some food in you before you decide to eat me instead.” Viggo took the duffel bag from Orlando’s shoulder, not missing the small wince, but decided not to say anything at the moment. “Where do you wanna go?”

They walked back out into the beautiful Caribbean sunshine and Orlando smiled as its warmth, and that from his lover, seeped into him, chasing away all bad feelings. “How about Italian?”

~%~%~%~

Somewhere between the salad and his Chicken Roma, Orlando started to shiver despite the warm sun shining down on them on the outdoor patio. He tried hard to hide the tiny tremors, but not even the wine or the steaming food would take away the chill that had settled in his bones. The only relief he could find was in Viggo’s eyes, warmth and life sparkling at him, or the brush of his lover’s hand against his own during the course of conversation. A jolt of heat would rush through him, relieving sore muscles and banishing the forming ice, but would always recede when the contact was broken. That’s why Orlando was now holding Viggo’s hand, not letting go for dear life.

“Orli, are you okay? Your hands are like ice!” Viggo grabbed both of the younger man’s hands and cupped them in his own, gently rubbing them together. The goose bumps trailing up and down Orlando’s arm didn’t escape his notice either, nor the shivers. “Why don’t we go back to the room and you can rest. You look exhausted, love.”

Orlando just shook his head and pulled one of his hands free to push the food around on his plate. A few silent bites and a glass of wine later, Viggo scooted his chair over to sit next to Orlando, never breaking their hand contact. He slid his free hand onto his lover’s leg and ran it up and down his thigh in a soothing manner. Tense muscles jumped at the contact, but relaxed almost instantly.

“Are you feeling okay? You aren’t getting sick, are you?” When Viggo’s question was met with a glare, he sighed. “I’m just worried about you, that’s all. You just aren’t acting right . . .”

“I’m tired, and busy, and frustrated! That’s what’s the matter.” Orlando’s voice was a harsh whisper, taking on a lethal tone Viggo had never heard before.

Viggo almost yanked his hands away from his lover, so startled by the tone of voice. His lover’s eyes had gone dark, almost impossibly black as they narrowed further. Swallowing hard, Viggo shifted his chair back to its rightful place and signaled for the waiter before he looked at Orlando again.

“There’s no need to be angry with me. I’m just worried. Forgive me for upsetting you.” Recalling what Johnny had said about Orlando’s quick tempter, Viggo decided to let the conversation drop for now. Let Orlando cool off before he said anything else. “Let’s get out of here, okay? Maybe go down to the beach for a little bit, or go back to the room? What time do you have to be back?”

Orlando blinked hard. One minute Viggo’s voice was whispered and hard and the next it was as light and jovial as it had been before. He couldn’t remember why had been so angry at Viggo a moment ago, but felt incredibly guilty now. Taking Viggo’s hand again, he frowned slightly as he spoke. “I’m sorry, love. Forgive me. I’m just tired.”

Viggo just nodded and paid the waiter when he came over. He didn’t say anything else until Orlando squeezed his hand again. “Are you mad at me? I really am sorry, Vig. I don’t know what came over me.”

“Its okay. Let’s just get out of here and go for a walk.” Viggo stood up as he spoke, pulling Orlando with him out the door.

They took the long way back to the hotel, walking along the docks in silence for a while before Orlando spoke again. “I just feel weird sometimes. I don’t know how to explain it, but it feels like something takes over. Something cold and mean, dragging me under.” He cast a glance over to Viggo, expecting to see a look of doubt, but Viggo just smiled.

“I think you’ve been working with pirate curses too long love. You need to go back to Middle Earth.” Viggo’s voice was light with amusement, his eyes twinkling with jest as he slung his arm around Orlando’s shoulders and pulled him close.

“Vig, I’m serious!” Orlando tried to mask his hurt by batting playfully at Viggo’s stomach; but when he looked back up and saw no trace of seriousness his heart fell. “You don’t believe me.”

Orlando’s voice sounded dejected and it took all Viggo could do not to wince. “No, angel. I was just joking. You’ve been working so hard, I think you just need to relax for a few days, get your mind off things. I do believe you.”

But looking in Viggo’s eyes, Orlando sensed a shred of doubt. Like he was a small child making up stories for attention. He looked away angrily. How could Viggo not believe him? ‘Because it sounds ridiculous’ the logical part of his brain supplied. ‘Because you’re a mess and you’re weak. He’ll love you less for it’ another voice spoke.

He growled angrily as he shook his head. The cold feeling started to creep into his bones again, even though his lover’s arms were wrapped around him. It wasn’t until he was shook slightly that Orlando realized that Viggo had sat him down and was now kneeling in front of him, eyes alight with worry.

“Hey, ya back with me?” He cupped Orlando’s face in his hands and gently ran his thumb along the younger man’s face, bringing his attention back. When the dark eyes focused on him once again, he smiled tensely. “You black out on me there for a second. You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine!” Orlando growled, his eyes flashing dangerously, daring Viggo to cross the line again. “Why do you think I can’t take care of myself? I realize I’m younger and less experienced than you and Johnny but that doesn’t mean I’m worthless!”

“I never said that, love. I don’t think that either. Why . . .” Viggo was at a loss for words now. What was going on in Orlando’s head? Why would he think such things?

“Save it Viggo. Your words are meaningless!” With that, Orlando stood up and walked off towards the beach.

Viggo just sat back on heels staring after Orlando, but all he could see was the way Orlando’s eyes changed from warm brown to cold blue in an instant.

~%~%~%~

Feet pounded the sand as he ran up the stretch of beach, water from the receding and advancing waves splashing up against his legs. It cleared the head and allowed the kind of freedom searched for for so long. For the first time he didn’t think about Viggo, or filming, or anything else save for the horizon ahead of him. The voices inside him, the chill that had settled into his bones, and even the restless urge and anger had fled for the time being. Orlando pushed all thoughts out of his mind, simply reveling in the squish of wet sand between his toes and the wind whipping through his hair.

The gathering storm clouds over the crystal waters indicated that his run may be cut short, but until the rain started pouring, he vowed he would keep running. Reaching the end of his circuit, Orlando turned around and started heading back down the surf, watching the foaming waves as they cascaded up the sand. He threw his head back and with eyes closed, ran back up the stretch of beach that belonged to him this night.

As he neared the end, he felt a sharp burning pain in his foot. His gait faltered and he ended up face first in the sand. Another wave rolled in, splashing the salty liquid in his face, filling his nose and ears, soaking him thoroughly before it escaped back to the sea. Sputtering and spitting sand, Orlando sat up and looked around him, trying to figure out what had brought him down. His hands fumbled and searched through the sand until he felt a piece of metal and wood.

When another wave came up, Orlando rinsed it off to get a better look, sitting in shock at what he revealed. It was piece of broken wood, like the lid of a small chest. There was an old antiqued lock fashioned as a crude looking heart, a tortured face in the middle. The heard was embellished with whimsical swirls, each intertwining, looping, rolling into one another like passionate lovers. It was hauntingly beautiful.

He turned the rotting wood over in his hands and cocked his head to the side trying to interpret the words carved there. His blood ran cold as the words tumbled around in his mind and the pain in his foot flared. Orlando looked down and watched in horror as the prefect mark of the lock on his instep split open, blood bubbling and boiling out before it dripped down to stain the sand. As the water came rushing up again, the cuts closed, searing his skin as if he had been branded.

A shaky finger traced over the mark before he snapped out of his trance and ran, eyes wide and crazed, up the beach towards the hotel, the chest’s lid still firmly in his grasp and the words a mantra in his troubled mind.

Begun by Blood

And by Blood, undone.

Setting wandering spirits free

Begins and ends

In the traitorous sea.