vigorli

Title: Out of the Darkness...Light ( 8 /?)
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 EIGHT

With a huge smile on his face, Viggo pulled the curtain aside and moved
towards the bed. He was certain that this would cheer his young friend.
Something needed to cheer him up. He prayed that this would do it.

After the police had left earlier that morning, Orlando had been
visited by the rape counselor, a pleasant middle-aged woman named Candace.
Though she tried valiantly, her every question had been met with stony
silence. Viggo, who had been allowed to stay, watched witih worried eyes as
the normally exuberant young man seemed to actually shut down—as if he was
closing himself off from the world around him, including those who loved
him.

Finally, Viggo had listened as the counselor assured Orlando
that it was okay if he didn’t want to talk today, but that he needed to
eventually. And the sooner the better. He listened with a heavy heart as
she repeated over and over that the young man had done nothing wrong. He
watched silently as Orlando closed his eyes and turned his head away,
effectively blocking them both out.

“Don’t worry. That’s normal. He’ll come around.” She seemed
pretty confident.

Viggo wasn’t so sure. But now, thirty minutes before visited
hours ended, he felt confident they would at least get a smile out of the
young man—even an infinitesimal one.

“Orlando…Orlando. Open your eyes. There’s someone here to see
you.”

No response, not even curiosity. Oh, well. Holding the curtain
back even further, Viggo moved aside to allow Orlando’s mother and sister to
enter the small cubicle.

Beanie had picked them up from the airport and filled them in on
Orlando’s condition and appearance. Still, even though warned in advance,
neither woman could suppress small gasps of anguish upon entering and seeing
the young man.

That did it. Although they were almost immediately suppressed,
Orlando heard the sounds and recognized the voices. Brown eyes opened
cautiously and moved to rest on the two women now standing by his side.

“Mum? Sam?” he whispered, voice quavering and finally breaking.

“Oh, baby,” the older woman cried, leaning over to envelop her
son in her arms. The other woman moved forward as well, and wrapped her
arms around her mother and brother. Viggo was encouraged by the fact that
the young man allowed it—welcomed it.

As he turned to leave them to their reunion and offer them some
privacy, Viggo heard what he hoped would be the beginning of the young man’s
healing process. Wrenching sobs, torn from the heart. But knowing Orlando
was in good hands, and fighting his desire to never leave the young man’s
side again, he walked out of the cubicle to join Beanie for a cup of coffee,
telling himself all the while that his young friend was in the best possible
place—the arms of his family. So why did he feel the stirrings of jealousy?
Why did leaving Orlando’s side make him feel so bad? With a last look at
the touching family reunion, Viggo exited Orlando’s cubicle and walked down
the hall to where Sean was waiting.

“So, what’s going on mate?”

“What do you mean?” Viggo knew exactly what Beanie meant, but
wasn’t sure that he was quite ready to answer the question at the moment.
Instead, he opted for a long swallow of lukewarm hospital coffee as he
glanced around the almost empty cafeteria.

“Come on, Viggo. You know exactly what I mean. This is
practically the first time you’ve left the boy’s side since this all
started. And I can see the way you’re looking at him. You fancy him, don’t
you?”

Nearly choking on his mouthful of coffee, Viggo’s mind
frantically processed any number of replies. ‘Who me?’ (feigning innocence
and surprise). ‘Nah. Just helping out.’ The Good Samaritan approach.

Instead, he surprised himself by simply saying, “yes.”

Beanie chuckled and shook his head. “Don’t look so surprised,
Viggo. It’s obvious to anyone who looks.”

“It is?” Spluttering a little.

“Well, we’ve all been concerned about what happened. And for
Orlando. But you’ve been here , with him. You haven’t left. And it’s
pretty damn clear that you have no intention of leaving.”

“Oh.” What else was there to say.

“Plus the fact that every time you look at the boy, it’s there,
in your eyes. It’s written all over your face.”

“It is?” Some actor he was!

“It is.” A pause, during which both men simply looked at each
other in silence. Then, “you love him, don’t you Viggo?”

Deciding the time for pretence was past, Viggo merely looked at
his friend and responded with a heavy sigh.

“Yes, I do. I don’t know why. I don’t even understand it
myself. But there it is. I do love him. I’ve tried to fight it, but…” he
trailed off, uncertain how to continue.

“So why fight it? What’s wrong with just feeling it? Hmmm?”

Viggo looked at his friend in surprise.

“Sean. I’m practically old enough to be his father.”

“Oh pish. Love shouldn’t have any boundaries. Age doesn’t
matter.”

Viggo chuckled to himself.

“Now you sound like Ian.”

“Well, maybe he’s got the right idea. If you love the boy, let
him know.”

“I want to, but…”

“But?”

“But I don’t know if this is the right time. I mean, with
everything that’s happened. What he’s been through.”

“Viggo. What he’s been through was horrible. No one should
have to go through that. But, he did come through it. He’s alive. And he’
s hurting. And he’s going to need someone there to help him through the
rest.”

Nodding his head, Viggo gave physical assent to what his friend
was saying.

“I know, Sean. And I want to be there for him. I want to be
the one. It’s like I can’t make myself leave his side. This is killing me.
I…I never knew I could feel like this. I never have before. It was never
like this in the past.”

Now that he’d started, it was as if the floodgates had opened
and the words and pent up emotions of the last days came pouring out. He
couldn’t seem to stop himself. Viggo realized he needed this release. He
needed to release his inner turmoil. Understanding, Beanie merely sat
quietly, listening to what his friend was—and wasn’t—saying.

“And I’m so…angry about what happened to him. I want to hurt
somebody. I…I look at him lying there. So, hurt, so…vulnerable. It’s not
the Orlando I know. I hate that they did that. I…I hate them. I want to
track them down and hurt them for what they did to Orlando. I really want
to hurt them. And that’s not me. That’s what scares me.”

Sean’s eyes were sympathetic as he slowly nodded his head in
agreement.

“I know, Viggo. I feel the same way. I want to hurt somebody,
too. I think we all do.”

Viggo nodded in understanding, and then listened as his friend
continued.

“But you know. His family’s here now. That’s bound to help
him.”

“I hope so, Sean. I hope so.” Viggo didn’t sound convinced.

There was another moment of silence, as both men sat lost in
their individual thoughts, contemplating the events of the last several
days…and all the possible repercussions. Beanie finally broke the silence.

“Ummm…Viggo. There’s something I’ve been wondering about.”

“What’s that?”

“Well…how did the session go with the counselor today?”

Surprised at his friend’s seeming hesitation, Viggo shrugged.
“It didn’t. He didn’t say a word. Wouldn’t respond. Wouldn’t even open
his eyes. The counselor said that’s normal, though, for a first session.”

Sean nodded his head slowly, obviously thinking. Viggo had the
distinct impression that he wanted to say something, but wasn’t quite sure
how to do it. He decided to make it easy for him.

“Is there something you wanted to ask, Sean?”

“Well…yes. There is. Remember when the doctor gave us the
information…told us what had happened? The prognosis?”

Viggo nodded. He remembered.

“Yes. Well, do you remember what she asked about his past
history?”

The sudden cloud that came over his friend’s expression told the
Englishman that Viggo did, indeed, remember.

“When the police asked him if this was his first time…he
hesitated. He’s hiding something, Viggo.”

With a heavy sigh born of days of frustration, anger and guilt,
Viggo nodded his agreement.

“I know. I noticed it too. But I’m almost afraid to think
about what it means.”

It was Beanie’s turn to nod. Viggo continued.

“I mean, what if it means the worst? What if it means this has
happened before? What will that do to him? How can someone get past that?”

Looking over at his friend, Viggo saw the worry and concern
there. He knew that Sean had had the same thoughts. Their ruminations were
cut short, though, by the impersonal, monotone voice which suddenly
broadcast the fact that visiting hours were ending.

Sean stood and clapped his friend on the back.

“Come on, then. Let’s go say goodnight and bring his mum and
sister back to his house.”

Opening his mouth to protest, Viggo was cut short by his friend’
s stern look.

“You need to rest, Viggo. At least go home and try to sleep a
little. You’ll be of no use to him if you collapse from exhaustion.”

Grudgingly acknowledging the logic of his friend’s statement,
the American nodded slowly.

“Alright. Let’s go say goodnight.”

The two men left the cafeteria, side by side.