vigorli

Title: Out of the Darkness...Light (4/?)
Author: DS
Pairing: Orlando/Viggo
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Orlando undergoes a terrible, life-shattering experience, but
will find a light at the end of the tunnel
Warnings: Mentions of rape and violence; extreme emotional suffering
Disclaimer: I have no affiliations with any of the actors, only the
plot is mine.
Feedback: I'd love to hear what you think.
Note: I originally began writing and posting this story several years ago,
but was sidetracked by real life and had to put the story on the shelf.
I'm back now and want to finish it, so I'm going to post it once again. I'm
starting at the beginning, for those who missed it the first time:)

CHAPTER FOUR

Two hours. Two terribly, horribly long hours they’d been waiting.
Waiting for something, anything. Any word on how Orlando was. Any word on
his condition. Any word on what had happened to him. All they knew was
that, after a frantic ambulance ride, he’d been rushed into the E.R., still
only semiconscious. Beyond that, not a clue. No idea how he’d come to be
beaten so badly, or why he’d been coughing up blood just before being loaded
into the ambulance.

Viggo stopped his restless pacing when he felt a warm hand grip
his shoulder and squeeze, as if to give comfort and moral support. Both
were needed badly and he looked up and gave Beanie a weak smile. The hand
stayed where it was, a symbol of strength which allowed Viggo to take a deep
breath and regroup.

Okay. Two hours wasn’t a terribly long period of time in the
grand scheme of things. After all, the doctors needed to do a thorough
examination—tests needed to be run, results read. Then everyone would know
what they were dealing with. And he hoped they weren’t dealing with
anything major. But he couldn’t shake the terrible feeling that this was
something very, very major—very big and very bad.

He couldn’t erase the sight of Orlando sprawled in the dirt,
face ashen except for the blood—ruby red against the pale skin. Nor could
he forget the small, pitiful moan as the young man began to regain
consciousness and started to feel the pain that was wracking his body. It
went straight to Viggo’s heart.

Thank goodness his quick thinking had allowed him to jump into
the ambulance once the stretcher had been loaded. At least he’d been able
to offer a modicum of support to the ill young man, even if Orlando hadn’t
been entirely aware of what was going on. And at least Orli wasn’t totally
surrounded by strangers. It had taken nearly all of Viggo’s control to
remain seated on the sidelines, though he did reach out and grasp one pale
hand, almost defying the EMT’s to do something about it. They didn’t.

It had been frightening, though, to watch as the medical
personnel went about their business—examining their patient, taking vitals,
looking for clues as to what was wrong. At least the horrible coughing had
stopped on the way to the hospital. Viggo closed his eyes at the memory of
the battered body that had been exposed as clothing was moved here and
there, shirt removed, pants cut off. The bruising was everywhere—far worse
than Viggo had realized. How had the boy made it to work today? How had he
even gotten out of bed?

A warm hand squeezing his shoulder shook Viggo out of his
reverie. Glancing up, he looked into Sean’s concerned eyes and saw the
unspoken question. “Are you alright?” A slight nod in reply was all the
response that was necessary. Beanie smiled back at him.

Casting his eyes around the crowded waiting room, Viggo surveyed
the group that had begun forming not long after the ambulance had arrived.
Production had been shut down for the day, testimony to the severity of the
situation and the regard in which Orlando was held. All of the primary cast
was there, as well as Peter and Fran. But there were others, as well, some
of whom Viggo knew only by sight. There were crewmembers from make-up,
hair, costumes. The elf was well thought of. Viggo hadn’t realized how
much. Hmmmm. It was like a piece to a puzzle, a puzzle called Orlando.
Something he definitely wanted to explore.

The hand, which had remained on his shoulder, tightened, causing
Viggo to once again focus on Beanie. But Beanie was looking over at the
doors leading to the Emergency Room Unit—the doors from which a doctor had
just emerged. The two men moved as one to join the gathering crowd.

“Who is here for Orlando Bloom?” she asked, surveying the large
gathering in confusion. At a chorus of “aye’s” and “here’s” she visibly
regrouped herself. “Well,” she began again. “I am Dr. Meadows. Does….does
Mr. Bloom have family here? Immediate family?”

“No, not here in New Zealand.” This from Peter, who appeared to
be very subdued, quite unlike his usual, jovial self.

“Well, then. Orlando has been moved to surgery. He’s been
badly beaten…among other things. Does anyone know how this occurred?”

Silence.

“Any information at all would be very helpful.”

Nothing. Blank, worried faces. Viggo couldn’t take his eyes off
of her, as if that would will her to continue with the words he wanted to
hear, and yet dreaded knowing.

“Alright. Well, as I said, Orlando has been brought up to
surgery. Physically, he’s in bad shape. Severe contusions over much of his
body, two broken ribs…” she paused, as if gauging their reaction to what
she had to say next. “That’s not the worst of it, though.” She paused to
take a deep breath before continuing. “Orlando has no family here at all.
Is that right?”

“Right,” Peter responded again.

“We’re his family.” This from Elijah.

“You?”

“Yes, us!” Dom and Billy in unison.

She hesitated, her reluctance to say more obvious to all of
them. Finally, though, she gestured for them to follow her and she led the
way into a smaller, more private waiting room off to the side of the larger
one in which they’d been grouped. Turning to face them, she surveyed the
group before her—nine men and a woman. The eight remaining members of the
Fellowship, Peter and Fran. They waited expectantly.

“Orlando…Orlando has been raped---multiple times. And this was
rape, no doubt about it.” She hesitated at the quick intake of breaths
around her, but then continued. “He’s suffered severe tearing of the rectal
wall, perforated colon…”

She trailed off as Ian’s quiet voice sounded. “Are you sure?”
He had a look of infinite sadness on his face. Viggo closed his eyes,
unable to continue watching for a moment, but when the doctor began speaking
once again, he forced them open, unable to not watch.

“Unfortunately, yes. It looks as if at least one foreign object
was used, as well. Physically, I believe he will be alright. Mentally,
however, Orlando will need help. In fact, once he’s out of surgery and his
condition is stable, a counselor will be in to talk to him…get the process
started. If any of you do know any details pertaining to Orlando’s
whereabouts last night, the police would like to speak with you, as well.
Also…” she trailed off again, as if unwilling to continue with whatever she
was going to say. But then, “I need to speak with someone who is familiar
with Orlando and his history.”

“His history?” Beanie asked, obviously unsure what she was
getting at.

Before she could respond, Sean Astin spoke up. “We know him
best.”

“We?” she asked.

“Yes, we. The Fellowship. The nine of us. Well, eight without
Orli, Orlando. And Peter, of course.”

She looked around at the expectant faces and seemed to come to a
decision of some sort.

“Do any of you know anything about Orlando’s previous history?”

“Some,” Dom replied. “Like what?”

“A little,” from Billy.

“What do you need to know?” Viggo finally forced himself to
speak.

She hesitated again, as if still unsure. Finally, “scans
indicate past abuse.”

Stunned silence. No one said a word. A sea of bewildered,
confused faces just stared at her as she made this proclamation.

At last, Viggo worked up the courage to voice what they all
wanted to know. His voice was low and dangerous.

“What do you mean, past abuse?”

“Scans show scar tissue—quite old—on the lining of the rectal
wall. If any of you know anything at all, it would be of great help to us.
Because if Orlando was abused prior to this incident, it will impact his
recovery now. We need to treat the whole person and we can’t do that unless
we know everything.”

No one said a word. Viggo tried to control his breathing, to
calm himself. He felt as if he was going to explode. But he couldn’t. Not
now. He needed to remain in control. Orlando needed him.