vigorli

TITLE: Out of the Darkness...Light (22/?)
AUTHOR: DS
E-MAIL: lotr58@bellsouth.net
RATING: R--Violence, 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!
And thanks so much to those of you looking it over for me:) Your time and
comments are much appreciated.
FEEDBACK: Yes, but be kind, gulp:)
ARCHIVE: Anywhere, just let me know. Thanks.

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CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

            Looking up from the book he was pretending to read, Orlando’s face lit up in a smile. Standing in his doorway was a sight for sore eyes, as the expression went—the Hobbits! And yes, John, Ian and Hugo were right behind them. Like the Keystone Cops, they poured into the room, all smiles and cheerful greetings.
            He tried, he really tried, but as happy as he was to see them—his friends—Orlando couldn’t keep his eyes from looking beyond them, to the now empty doorway. The gaze that turned back to survey his friends was sorrow-filled, though he tried to hide it. But the others weren’t going to give him time to dwell on who wasn’t there.
            “Well, mate. How’re you doing?” Dom.
            “You look so much better!” Elijah, with his boundless enthusiasm.
            Rising from his chair by the window, Orlando took only a few steps before finding himself engulfed.   Feeling for a moment as if he was being smothered, he concentrated on slowing his suddenly rapid heartbeat and stilling his now furious breathing. Gathering the suddenly thin hospital robe in his hands, he pulled it around him, as if for protection.
            And then Ian was there, in the forefront, giving him a knowing smile while shooing the others back several feet. Evidently, the older man hadn’t missed the trapped deer look in Orlando’s eyes.
            “Now, now. We’re all happy to see the lad, but let us give him his space.”
            Orlando didn’t miss the small wink Ian sent in his direction and he gave a grateful smile in return.
            John’s rich baritone echoed throughout the room.
            “Well, my boy. Have they been treating you well?”
            Orlando nodded in affirmation, fighting the sense of loss he felt at Viggo’s absence. And Beanie, too. Where were they? Evidently, somewhere better than this!
            “Boy, they’re like the Gestapo out there. Checking us in, names on a list.”
            At Dom’s pronouncement, Orlando ducked his head in embarrassment, missing the quick jab to the ribs Sean Astin gave to his fellow Hobbit, as well as the glares and stares from the others in the room.
            “Food good?” Billy asked, retrieving an apple from Orlando’s uneaten lunch tray and biting into it…loudly.
            And then, a deep, rich chuckle. Hugo, who’d been standing quietly in the background, had moved forward and was now claiming the attention of the others.
            “Give the boy a chance to answer. We’re bombarding him with questions and giving him no time to respond!”
            A murmur of contrite sorry’s and won’t do it again’s was his response.
            For some reason, he didn’t know why, it made Orlando laugh. Regardless of the fact that the friend he really wanted to see wasn’t present, Orlando laughed—and it felt good. For the first time in a week, he laughed and the world looked just a little brighter, his load a little lighter. It was good to be with friends. The others responded in kind, laughing loud and long.
            And then, they were being shushed again, as Ian, hands raised, tried to quiet them all.
            “My dear friends. I, for one, do not wish to be front page news in some glad rag for being expelled forcibly from the hospital.”
            At that, the others laughed even harder, and Orlando couldn’t help but join in.

            Two hours later, Orlando tried once again to read his book, but once more was unsuccessful. His mind was still reeling from his friends’ visit. Not five minutes after Ian’s pronouncement, the nurse had, indeed, come to advise them that not only were they being too loud, but there were too many visitors in the room. Only two at a time were allowed! And how had they all gotten in? So they had broken into groups, arguing good-naturedly about who should go with the elf, the dwarf and the wizard, as those three were, after all, outnumbered by Hobbits. In the end, it was Ian who came to see him last, the others having divided into pairs and having been in to see him already.


            “I don’t know where he is, my boy. We tried to contact him. Beanie, too, for that matter. But we had no luck. They must be out and about somewhere.”
            Upon seeing Orlando’s forlorn expression, the older man hurried to continue, in his own leisurely way.
            “Don’t worry, Orlando. And don’t feel badly. I’m sure Viggo has his reasons for not visiting. Sean, as well. You’ll see.”
            Though he wasn’t really convinced by Ian’s argument, Orlando allowed a small smile to show. There was nothing he could do about it, anyway. If Viggo didn’t want to come to see him, so be it. He would learn to deal with it—he’d have to. He didn’t even flinch—too badly, anyway—when Ian reached over and gathered him close, his light embrace seemingly sensitive to the fact that the young man did not yet feel comfortable being touched.
            Orlando rested his chin on the older man’s shoulder and tried to relax into the gentle hug. He could feel the arms around him—holding him very loosely—and realized they weren’t hurting him. Ian would never hurt him. For a brief moment, he tried to convince himself that everything was actually going to be all right.
            His mind wandering, Orlando didn’t even register the fact that Ian was talking to him, asking him a question. When he did realize it, he tried to focus on the older man and what he was saying.
            “How are you really, Orlando?”
            Not knowing what to say, he shrugged his response.
            Ian, perceptive as always, knew exactly what the younger man was—and was not—saying.
            “You’re not doing very well, are you my boy?”
            Unbidden, tears sprang into Orlando’s eyes and he blinked furiously to keep them from falling. Not now, not in front of Ian! But his struggle was unsuccessful and as the first tears fell, Orlando felt Ian’s arms tighten around him—just a little. Then, a hand was stroking his back gently, a gesture he found to be oddly soothing
            “There, there, Orlando. It’s all going to work out all right in the end. You’ve got to believe that.”
            Orlando forced his head to move up and down in a poor facsimile of a nod.
            “And you do know that your friends are here for you, to help you through this. All of us, whether we were present today or not. We all care for you, my boy, very much. And we will all do whatever we have to do to get you well.”
            Orlando pulled himself back a little so he could look into Ian’s eyes. Concerned blue eyes met his bleary gaze. He desperately wanted to believe that everything would be all right, but he just didn’t see how that could happen.

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