Out of the Darkness...Light (18/?)

[dublinscot.livejournal.com]

 

TITLE: Out of the Darkness...Light - Chapter 18/?

AUTHOR: DS

E-MAIL: LOTR58@bellsouth.net

RATING: R - slash, angst

PAIRING: Orli/Viggo

DISCLAIMER: I don't own these guys (though I wish I did). No money is being

made from this endeavor and no disrespect is intended. It's all for fun!

FEEDBACK: Yes, but be kind, gulp:)

ARCHIVE: Anywhere, just let me know. Thanks.
****************************************************

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
 Viggo 
 
         “Why can’t I see him?”
            “Sir, I’ve explained it to you already.  You are not authorized to see the patient.”
            A hand on his shoulder was all that kept Viggo from storming past the drill sergeant masquerading as a nurse.  Glancing over at Sean, Viggo attempted to control his rising temper.
Deep breath.  In…out.  In…out.
            Calm once more, and feeling Sean’s hand slip away, he turned his attention back to the nurse and forced one of his most charming smiles.  
            “Nurse…Mills.  Please.  We all want to help Orlando.  Don’t you think being with his friends would help him feel better?  Instead of being alone, isolated from everyone?  Please?”
            Holding his breath, he awaited her response.  She seemed to be considering it.   But then, shaking her head, she replied.
            “I’m sorry, sir.  The rules are the rules and I don’t make them.  Your name is not on the list of approved visitors.  In fact, your name is specifically listed as one who cannot visit.” 
They have a list for that?  Viggo wondered briefly, as his shocked gaze followed the woman.  Did she look apologetic as she handed out this death sentence?  Viggo couldn’t be sure.
            “I’m sorry, Mr. Mortensen.”
            Yes, she was.  Okay, well, maybe she wasn’t a drill sergeant, but she was sure close to it.
            Exhaling slowly, Viggo looked over at Beanie, who was standing patiently by his side, as if awaiting further orders.  Well, it was time for “Plan B.”  Of course, he hadn’t really had a “Plan A,” but it sounded good and fit the situation.  Okay.  Time to regroup, get thoughts in order.  Time to come up with a battle plan.  As far as he was concerned, this was war!
            “Come on, Sean.  Let’s go.”
            
 
            Candace
 
            “All right, Mr. Bloom.  How are you doing today?”
            “Orlando.”
            “Excuse me?”
            “You can call me Orlando.”
            “Okay, Orlando, how are you feeling?”
            A shrug of the shoulder was the only response.  Candace regarded her patient as he sat silently in the bed.  She noticed the chafe marks on his wrists, no doubt caused by him pulling on the restraints which had, thankfully, been removed prior to their session.  She also took in the still pale face, bruises just beginning to fade, expression sullen and troubled. Sighing deeply, she settled back in her chair, ready for the siege.
            When ten minutes had passed, however, with no further sound coming from the bed, she figured it couldn’t hurt to interject—just a little.  Leaning forward a bit, hands clasped loosely between her knees, she spoke, her voice soft in the hush of the room.
            “How are you coping with things? With what happened?”
            Still no verbal response, but she didn’t miss the nearly imperceptible tightening of the jaw line, nor the right hand which quickly turned white as it clutched the railing beside the bed.  Aha!  She’d hit a nerve.  He wasn’t coping—not well, anyway.
            “Want to talk about it?” she ventured.  “It helps, sometimes, to get it out.”
            She studied the tense young man before her, wishing she could get him to open up, knowing it would help.  But he just wasn’t there yet.  Sighing in frustration, she leaned back, folding her arms across her chest, ready once again to wait.  This was their third session and, so far, her patient had uttered six words:  “Orlando” and “You can call me Orlando.”  Well, maybe that was progress.  Six words were better than none.  And at least he was responding—kind of.
            Twenty minutes later, the session was over.  Rising from her chair preparing to leave, she reflected on the fact that time could move so slowly when it was being watched.  Looking at the silent figure on the bed, she shook her head and let out a long, frustrated sigh.  Plastering a smile on her face, though, she tried to convey the idea that everything was okay...it didn't matter that her patient sat silent and morose, almost pretending she wasn't in the room.  
            "Well, Orlando.  I'll see you tomorrow."  When there was no response, she couldn't resist one final remark.  "Same time, same place."
            Ahhh, that got a response, albeit a small one.  Chocolate brown eyes, startled and uncertain, jumped up to meet hers before lowering to once again focus on the fascinating white bedsheets.
  With one last look at her patient, Candace exited the room, chuckling to herself at the reaction she'd received.  Maybe there was hope for him yet!
 
**********************************************************************
 
Orlando
 
            Well now what was he going to do?  Although she seemed nice enough, he had no intention of sharing anything with that woman...that counselor.  Couldn't they see that he just didn't want to talk about...anything.  Especially…*it*...that day.  That night.   He just wanted to forget about it.  If he didn't think about it, and if he wasn't constantly reminded of it, he could just push it to the back of his mind and make it go away.  He was good at that!  A master.  Oh well.
            Glancing at the clock on the wall, he noted that it was almost time for visiting hours to begin and he felt a tiny thrill of anticipation, countered with regret and a little fear. Fixing his eyes on the door, he knew that his mother and Samantha would be walking through it at any moment.  But would they be the only ones?  He was afraid that they would be.  He hadn't said anything, but he'd been very hurt by Viggo's absence.  He'd really thought that Viggo cared enough about him to at least come visit.  But he hadn't.  For that matter, no one had, save his mother and sister. But it was Viggo's non-appearance that hurt the most.  Especially after the things the older man had said to him, about caring for him, wanting to be there for him.  As with so many other things in his life, Orlando realized that what Viggo had said couldn’t be counted on—and neither could Viggo.  
 
 
 

Comments

[roomfor2.livejournal.com]

The formatting is incredibly weird on this entry.

Shall pop back to read tomorrow :)

[nverland]

I was just hinking last night that it'd been awhile and hoping for more soon. And here you are.
Sad that they have to take all this out on the innocent people that want to help Orlando. Seems like his mother is more in need of counseling than anyone.

[ireth06.livejournal.com]

I was so afraid that would be what he would think: Viggo not coming, not caring....His mum means well, but...sometimes the only way to protect the ones you love is to let them go....

This is a thrilling story.

Thanks for sharing, hugs and kisses!!

[jackieville.livejournal.com]

I have been checking for an update to this everyday and I'm so thrilled to see it!!! Such an awesome story and I cannot wait for more....Poor Orlando, I hope things get better for him soon...

[estels-artemis.livejournal.com]

I was so looking foward to read this story, but the formatting is all screwed. Will try again later.

[chibiryoko2001.livejournal.com]

I want to smack Orli's mum for denying Viggo to visit