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vigorli2005-01-13 02:40 pm
rainweaver13.livejournal.com) wrote in vigorli2005-01-13 02:40 pm
Breathing Room (3/?)
Title: Breathing Room (3/?)
Author: Rainweaver13
Pairing: Viggo/Orlando
Summary: Current machinations
Rating/Warnings: PG/none yet. I may stumble over established timelines; it's all fiction.
Disclaimer: Don't own them; wouldn't want to - they are their own. Wouldn't mind talking with Viggo, though. If I made any money from this, I could buy bigger canvases.
A/N: Feedback makes the newbie verra happy.
-----------------
It began with a phone call from Henry to Dom. They'd become acquaintances during the Rings filming and friends during the time Dom spent working with Viggo, Buckethead, Henry and Elijah on pandemonium.
"Have you seen Dad recently?" Henry asked after they'd compared notes on new music, new starlets and the surf in Hawaii.
"Couple months ago, I s'pose," Dom said, considering. "He stopped by Hawaii on his way from somewhere to somewhere. Gave me a call."
An expensive long-distance pause.
"How was he?"
"How was he?"
"Yeah, I mean... y'know. Did he seem okay?"
Dom gave it a moment's reflection. "He was tired, that's all. Wasn't really up for doing anything. Said he didn't have time, was just gonna crash at a hotel for a few hours. Wait for his next flight."
"So you didn't actually see him?"
"Just talked to him, kid. Sorry. Anything wrong?"
"No... no... I was just curious. That's all. He's suddenly decided to take off to Costa Rica for three weeks by himself, and I wondered if... y'know.. if anything had happened."
"Nothing I know of, Henry. Just sounds like Viggo being Viggo."
---
Dom talked to Sean Bean fairly regularly, a Rings habit that had just lingered through the years. A week or so after Henry's call, Sean rang Dom up, just to touch base. They gossiped about this and that - Dom's TV series, Sean's movies, various partners and common friends - and Dom mentioned that Viggo was going to Costa Rica in January.
"What the hell for?" Sean asked.
"Just to be alone for a while, Henry said."
"Fucking hippie's always alone."
Dom laughed. "Guess he just needs to be more alone alone, y'know?"
The phone line remained quiet for a long moment. "Been seeing an awful lot of him in the tabs and such. He's looking kinda harassed."
"Henry says he's really tired. Tired enough he's got the kid worried."
"Maybe some time alone's not the worst thing for the crazy bastard."
---
"Bana residence, Eric speaking."
"Bean here."
"Hey, Bean! What brings you to my phone?"
"Welllll.... Y'know what we talked about last time, about Orlando?"
"Yeah." Carefully.
"I've got an idea."
---
"Orli, you need some down time."
"I get down time, Eric. I'm off for the weekend now."
"No, little bro. I mean some serious down time. Some total rest."
"I don't have time for th-..."
"As luck would have it, you do."
"Huh?"
"I took the liberty of talking to Robin."
"You what???!!"
Plowing straight ahead, Eric continued, "... and you have a three-week break in January. And it just so happens I know a perfect place for you to go, get some rest, get your head straight. It's got sun, sand, even surfing if you want it."
"Why do I feel like I'm going to have no say in this?"
"I'm hurt. Of course you have a say."
"This is crazy, you cunt. I don't want to go."
"You don't have *that* say. I've already booked your tickets and hotel reservations. But you can have a say in changing your seating." Cheerily.
"You are insane."
"If you need help getting ready and on the plane, either Bean or I can be there in a matter of hours."
The shudder was almost audible over the phone. "I think I can handle it. Give me the details."
He's too tired to argue, anyway. And some time away from everything, to be honest, sounds good right now. Really good.
---
"Look, I know you're going to be alone, but he won't be any bother," Sean's voice said from across the Atlantic.
Viggo scuffed in irritation at the floor and reminded himself not to clench his teeth. "How likely is that, realistically?"
"The kid's knackered, Vig. He's crashing. If you were in touch with the entertainment world, you'd know it."
"I can't fix him, Sean."
"Nobody's asking you to." Sean drew in a deep breath and let it out hard, the sound crashing over the phone like an ocean wave. "You don't have to babysit. You don't even have to... talk to him, for god's sake. He just needs some breathing space in a safe place."
"And there's nowhere else on the entire goddamned planet he can find it except the one place I'm going to be?"
Silence hung heavy for a long moment. Viggo looked out at the back yard, at the stone wall he now had to hide behind in order to live in this crazy town. He'd never admit it, but he was counting the days until Henry left for college and he could leave this septic tank forever. For a moment, he thought about Orlando, and how immeasurably worse the crushing pressure must be on him.
"All right," Sean said finally, sounding defeated. Damn actors, Viggo thought. "I'll see if it's possible to change his travel plans and get him sent somewhere else. Robin can probably find somebody to go with him."
Viggo sighed. "I hate you, Bean."
"I know."
"Fax me his fucking schedule."
"You'll have it before the day's over."
"You owe me more than you can ever repay if you live to be a thousand."
"You're probably right."
"I'm siccing my son on your daughters."
"Watch out, mate... That's getting below the belt."
"That's the idea."
"Crazy hippie."
"I still hate you."
"I know."
---------
Viggo is a compassionate man. "The sight of cruelty, the energy behind it, has always scared me," he once wrote. He cares for things, whole things and broken things, and always has. Too much, some would say.
His heart breaks for troubles too large for him to do anything about. Earthquakes in Turkey, mudslides in Central America, floods in India, war in Iraq, tsunamis in Indonesia ... the list is endless, and always he feels the helpless despair of being unable to do anything concrete to help. Why couldn't he have become something useful like a doctor or a nurse, a rescue worker or a civil engineer, something that could make a difference in people's lives? What the fuck use is an actor? An artist? A poet?
So he helps however he can on the big things - donations, behind-the-scenes fund-raising - and makes it a point to be the best friend he can to people who gain that title. He doesn't mind. He's hauled many a drunk friend home and put them to bed, sat up listening to troubles late at night, arranged doctors, therapists, mechanics, plumbers and TV repairmen for endless emergencies. He doesn't mind. He's got the numbers around somewhere, and he's been here long enough that he's got good contacts. He doesn't mind.
But sometimes he wishes he could say no.
Sometimes he wishes the nurse in him would let him go, let him turn away from just this one more painful potential. Sometimes he wishes he cared less.
Author: Rainweaver13
Pairing: Viggo/Orlando
Summary: Current machinations
Rating/Warnings: PG/none yet. I may stumble over established timelines; it's all fiction.
Disclaimer: Don't own them; wouldn't want to - they are their own. Wouldn't mind talking with Viggo, though. If I made any money from this, I could buy bigger canvases.
A/N: Feedback makes the newbie verra happy.
-----------------
It began with a phone call from Henry to Dom. They'd become acquaintances during the Rings filming and friends during the time Dom spent working with Viggo, Buckethead, Henry and Elijah on pandemonium.
"Have you seen Dad recently?" Henry asked after they'd compared notes on new music, new starlets and the surf in Hawaii.
"Couple months ago, I s'pose," Dom said, considering. "He stopped by Hawaii on his way from somewhere to somewhere. Gave me a call."
An expensive long-distance pause.
"How was he?"
"How was he?"
"Yeah, I mean... y'know. Did he seem okay?"
Dom gave it a moment's reflection. "He was tired, that's all. Wasn't really up for doing anything. Said he didn't have time, was just gonna crash at a hotel for a few hours. Wait for his next flight."
"So you didn't actually see him?"
"Just talked to him, kid. Sorry. Anything wrong?"
"No... no... I was just curious. That's all. He's suddenly decided to take off to Costa Rica for three weeks by himself, and I wondered if... y'know.. if anything had happened."
"Nothing I know of, Henry. Just sounds like Viggo being Viggo."
---
Dom talked to Sean Bean fairly regularly, a Rings habit that had just lingered through the years. A week or so after Henry's call, Sean rang Dom up, just to touch base. They gossiped about this and that - Dom's TV series, Sean's movies, various partners and common friends - and Dom mentioned that Viggo was going to Costa Rica in January.
"What the hell for?" Sean asked.
"Just to be alone for a while, Henry said."
"Fucking hippie's always alone."
Dom laughed. "Guess he just needs to be more alone alone, y'know?"
The phone line remained quiet for a long moment. "Been seeing an awful lot of him in the tabs and such. He's looking kinda harassed."
"Henry says he's really tired. Tired enough he's got the kid worried."
"Maybe some time alone's not the worst thing for the crazy bastard."
---
"Bana residence, Eric speaking."
"Bean here."
"Hey, Bean! What brings you to my phone?"
"Welllll.... Y'know what we talked about last time, about Orlando?"
"Yeah." Carefully.
"I've got an idea."
---
"Orli, you need some down time."
"I get down time, Eric. I'm off for the weekend now."
"No, little bro. I mean some serious down time. Some total rest."
"I don't have time for th-..."
"As luck would have it, you do."
"Huh?"
"I took the liberty of talking to Robin."
"You what???!!"
Plowing straight ahead, Eric continued, "... and you have a three-week break in January. And it just so happens I know a perfect place for you to go, get some rest, get your head straight. It's got sun, sand, even surfing if you want it."
"Why do I feel like I'm going to have no say in this?"
"I'm hurt. Of course you have a say."
"This is crazy, you cunt. I don't want to go."
"You don't have *that* say. I've already booked your tickets and hotel reservations. But you can have a say in changing your seating." Cheerily.
"You are insane."
"If you need help getting ready and on the plane, either Bean or I can be there in a matter of hours."
The shudder was almost audible over the phone. "I think I can handle it. Give me the details."
He's too tired to argue, anyway. And some time away from everything, to be honest, sounds good right now. Really good.
---
"Look, I know you're going to be alone, but he won't be any bother," Sean's voice said from across the Atlantic.
Viggo scuffed in irritation at the floor and reminded himself not to clench his teeth. "How likely is that, realistically?"
"The kid's knackered, Vig. He's crashing. If you were in touch with the entertainment world, you'd know it."
"I can't fix him, Sean."
"Nobody's asking you to." Sean drew in a deep breath and let it out hard, the sound crashing over the phone like an ocean wave. "You don't have to babysit. You don't even have to... talk to him, for god's sake. He just needs some breathing space in a safe place."
"And there's nowhere else on the entire goddamned planet he can find it except the one place I'm going to be?"
Silence hung heavy for a long moment. Viggo looked out at the back yard, at the stone wall he now had to hide behind in order to live in this crazy town. He'd never admit it, but he was counting the days until Henry left for college and he could leave this septic tank forever. For a moment, he thought about Orlando, and how immeasurably worse the crushing pressure must be on him.
"All right," Sean said finally, sounding defeated. Damn actors, Viggo thought. "I'll see if it's possible to change his travel plans and get him sent somewhere else. Robin can probably find somebody to go with him."
Viggo sighed. "I hate you, Bean."
"I know."
"Fax me his fucking schedule."
"You'll have it before the day's over."
"You owe me more than you can ever repay if you live to be a thousand."
"You're probably right."
"I'm siccing my son on your daughters."
"Watch out, mate... That's getting below the belt."
"That's the idea."
"Crazy hippie."
"I still hate you."
"I know."
---------
Viggo is a compassionate man. "The sight of cruelty, the energy behind it, has always scared me," he once wrote. He cares for things, whole things and broken things, and always has. Too much, some would say.
His heart breaks for troubles too large for him to do anything about. Earthquakes in Turkey, mudslides in Central America, floods in India, war in Iraq, tsunamis in Indonesia ... the list is endless, and always he feels the helpless despair of being unable to do anything concrete to help. Why couldn't he have become something useful like a doctor or a nurse, a rescue worker or a civil engineer, something that could make a difference in people's lives? What the fuck use is an actor? An artist? A poet?
So he helps however he can on the big things - donations, behind-the-scenes fund-raising - and makes it a point to be the best friend he can to people who gain that title. He doesn't mind. He's hauled many a drunk friend home and put them to bed, sat up listening to troubles late at night, arranged doctors, therapists, mechanics, plumbers and TV repairmen for endless emergencies. He doesn't mind. He's got the numbers around somewhere, and he's been here long enough that he's got good contacts. He doesn't mind.
But sometimes he wishes he could say no.
Sometimes he wishes the nurse in him would let him go, let him turn away from just this one more painful potential. Sometimes he wishes he cared less.
no subject
Viggo sighed. "I hate you, Bean."
"I know."
"Fax me his fucking schedule."
"You'll have it before the day's over."
"You owe me more than you can ever repay if you live to be a thousand."
"You're probably right."
"I'm siccing my son on your daughters."
"Watch out, mate... That's getting below the belt."
LMAO! I could so see Viggo saying that to Beanie!
great chapter!
On to the next!
no subject
More to come...
Rain