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fellowshippers2004-12-02 12:28 pm
sileya.livejournal.com) wrote in fellowshippers2004-12-02 12:28 pm
Bittersweet Symphony 10/17
Title: Bittersweet Symphony (10/17)
Author: Sileya, sileya@yahoo.com, www.sileya.net,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sileya at LiveJournal
Pairing: VM/OB, SB/OB implied
Rating, Warnings: overall NC-17, AU
Summary: Viggo watches a plane crash and helps the survivors – one of whom will change the direction of his life.
Disclaimer: This is a work of celebrity fan FICTION. I make no claims as to the veracity of this material, it is for entertainment purposes only.
Author’s Note: Beta by the graciousrazzleslash. This plotline is very loosely based on a rather obscure 1980s movie. I’ll reveal the movie after the last chapter, cause I don’t want to risk giving major plot points away.
Feedback: PLEASE.
Previous Chapters
==
==
“Christ, Sean, you look like shit!”
Viggo just closed his eyes for a moment and tried not to react to Orlando’s minor explosion. He looked back up at the haggard man standing in the doorway, offering a hand.
“I’m Viggo Mortensen.”
Sean smiled tiredly, shaking his hand and gesturing him inside. “Come on in, mate. It’s really great to meet you.”
Orlando darted in ahead of Viggo, who stepped up slowly across the threshold. He paused inside the door as Orlando disappeared into a room down the hall. “Thank you. Sorry I didn’t come sooner. Spent three days sleeping after the hospital’s loving care for a concussion.”
Sean chuckled and led the way into a sitting room, walking right past Orlando. “Well, life-threatening injury will do that to a man.” He waved a hand at the sideboard. “Help yourself to a drink. I’m afraid I’m not feeling up to being much of a host.” He collapsed onto a large leather couch, propping his feet up on a low table.
Viggo nodded and sat down at the other end of the couch. “Don’t worry about it,” he murmured, looking over the other man. He was obviously torn up. He then glanced to Orlando, who looked stricken.
“Mr. Bean, are you sure you’re all right?”
Sean waved a hand. “Please. Call me Sean.” He took a breath and let it out slowly. “And I’m…making it.”
Viggo leaned back, watching as Orlando moved to crouch at Sean’s feet, studying his friend.”
“He’s not eating. He’s lost weight.” Orlando stated.
“Is there anything I can do?” Viggo asked.
Sean just looked at him for a while, eyes unfocused, before snapping back to the present. “I’m…sorry. I guess I’m not fit for company,” he murmured.
“Don’t worry about it,” Viggo repeated. “Want to talk?”
Sean’s breath hitched. “Talk? About the…crash?”
Viggo shook his head. “About Orlando.”
Silence reigned for a full five minutes as Viggo watched Sean grapple with overwhelming emotions.
“God, I wish it had been me to die,” Sean finally let out in a broken rush, shoulders shaking.
“God, Sean,” Orlando whispered.
Viggo’s lips pressed together. There wasn’t anything he could say.
“He was so…full of life, you know? He loved life. Loved living. And he was so young. God, I wish it had been me.” Sean said, voice thick with tears.
Viggo couldn’t stop his own tears from falling, watching both Sean and Orlando. “Tell me about him,” Viggo prompted.
Sean drew in an unsteady breath. “I met him while he was at Eton. He’d taken a break one semester to organize a big event for orphans, and he called and asked me to help. So I met him soon after for lunch. We just…clicked.”
Viggo nodded, trying not to look at Orlando, who was sitting on the floor at Sean’s feet.
“We didn’t have much in common except money and free time. But we were friends. And more,” Sean paused, stealing a glance at Viggo. When Viggo didn’t react, he continued. “I was lucky. He was my best mate, even when we weren’t…together…any more. Everyone who met him, loved him. He was gorgeous and didn’t mind flaunting it. But his heart was pure and in the right place. He was…too good for this world, I see that now.”
Viggo closed his eyes at Orlando’s choked sob.
“He worked relentlessly for charity, especially for children. He worked himself into exhaustion. So I’d been after him for weeks and weeks to take a break. I invited him up here to Sheffield,” Sean’s eyes glazed in memory, his face ravaged with sorrow. “I even agreed to let him fly us up here, even though I hate flying. Anything to get him to take a break! And then…”
Viggo scooted over on the couch, taking Sean’s hand.
“And then this happened. And I can’t help but feel like it’s my fault, somehow,” Sean finished, choking out the last few words.
“No! It’s not your fault! I almost got you killed!” Orlando cried out to unhearing ears.
Viggo flinched. “There’s nothing you could have done,” he murmured, knowing Sean wouldn’t really hear him, either.
*~*
Sean stood in the kitchen, waiting for the water in the tea kettle to boil. Viggo sat at the table while Orlando hovered in the corner.
“Tell him I’m here.”
“What?” Viggo asked in surprise, before he could stop himself.
Sean turned to look at him questioningly.
Viggo grasped for something intelligent to say. “Um, what do you think you’ll do next?”
Sean shrugged. “Haven’t really thought about it.” He turned back to the stove.
“Viggo. He’s hurting so badly. Please. Help me talk to him,” Orlando moved to Viggo’s side, touching his arm. Viggo looked at Orlando in disbelief. “Please, Viggo. Please.”
Please, Lord, give me strength. “Sean, I need to tell you something.”
Sean carried the kettle and mugs over to the table, looking up at Viggo, face expectant.
Viggo quailed. “Maybe you should sit down.”
Sean did, pouring the hot water over tea leaves, opening the sugar canister.
“I saw Orlando that night.” Viggo started.
Sean’s hands stilled, and Viggo could see the shudder that rocked through the man’s frame. “They said they found him quite a way from the crash site,” Sean whispered. “He’d been…thrown from the plane on impact.”
Orlando stilled as Viggo looked at him again. “I mean, I SAW Orlando that night. Alive.”
Sean looked up at him, pain clear in his eyes. “You mean, he wasn’t…” his voice broke, eyes bright with more tears.
Viggo’s eyes widened as he figured out what Sean was thinking. “Sean, this is going to be difficult to understand. I saw Orlando that night. I talked with him and brought him to the hospital.”
Sean shook his head, not understanding.
“He’s here with me now.”
Sean just stared at him. After a minute, a disbelieving laugh ripped out of him. “Are you sure you’re recovered from your own hit on the head?”
Viggo nodded. “Really. He’s here. He’s sort of…haunting me.”
Sean’s lips pressed together into a white line and his back went rigid. “That’s not funny, Viggo. Not funny at all.”
“Sean, you have to believe me. Orlando’s very concerned about you.”
Sean looked up from stirring his teacup, anger growing in his eyes and making his voice harsh. “You expect me to believe Orlando’s a ghost? And he’s haunting you, a total stranger?”
Viggo spread his hands. “I can’t explain it. I guess it’s because I found him that night.”
“Call him Beanie. That’s my nickname for him,” Orlando instructed as he sat at the table in the chair between the two men.
Viggo sat back, hoping Sean wouldn’t take a swing at him. “He says he called you Beanie.”
Sean stilled, confusion clear on his face.
“He loves footie, which I couldn’t stand.”
“You love football, he hates it.”
“I once stole his car and wrecked the front end.”
“He wrecked your car after stealing it.”
“And I caught him shagging a girl a couple weeks ago, the bastard.”
“He says he caught you shag…I’m not repeating that!”
Sean set down his mug, watching as Viggo turned to tell off thin air. His eyes were already wide and his mind was whirling. “There’s no way you could have known that. Nobody knows. Except Orlando.” Sean paused. “He’s…really here?”
Viggo nodded slowly.
“Where?”
Viggo inclined his head to the chair between them. Sean looked there uneasily, swallowing, before taking a painful leap of faith.
“Does he…look OK?”
Viggo smiled softly. “He’s beautiful.” Sean bit his lip.
Viggo looked back at Orlando, who was gazing at him with an unidentifiable emotion in his eyes. “Anything else you want to tell him?” Viggo asked.
“Tell him I don’t blame him. And that I love him,” Orlando requested softly.
Viggo sighed. “He said to tell you he doesn’t blame you. And that he loves you.”
Sean stared at Viggo, a single tear trailing down his cheek.
Author: Sileya, sileya@yahoo.com, www.sileya.net,
sileya at LiveJournalPairing: VM/OB, SB/OB implied
Rating, Warnings: overall NC-17, AU
Summary: Viggo watches a plane crash and helps the survivors – one of whom will change the direction of his life.
Disclaimer: This is a work of celebrity fan FICTION. I make no claims as to the veracity of this material, it is for entertainment purposes only.
Author’s Note: Beta by the gracious
razzleslash. This plotline is very loosely based on a rather obscure 1980s movie. I’ll reveal the movie after the last chapter, cause I don’t want to risk giving major plot points away.Feedback: PLEASE.
Previous Chapters
==
==
“Christ, Sean, you look like shit!”
Viggo just closed his eyes for a moment and tried not to react to Orlando’s minor explosion. He looked back up at the haggard man standing in the doorway, offering a hand.
“I’m Viggo Mortensen.”
Sean smiled tiredly, shaking his hand and gesturing him inside. “Come on in, mate. It’s really great to meet you.”
Orlando darted in ahead of Viggo, who stepped up slowly across the threshold. He paused inside the door as Orlando disappeared into a room down the hall. “Thank you. Sorry I didn’t come sooner. Spent three days sleeping after the hospital’s loving care for a concussion.”
Sean chuckled and led the way into a sitting room, walking right past Orlando. “Well, life-threatening injury will do that to a man.” He waved a hand at the sideboard. “Help yourself to a drink. I’m afraid I’m not feeling up to being much of a host.” He collapsed onto a large leather couch, propping his feet up on a low table.
Viggo nodded and sat down at the other end of the couch. “Don’t worry about it,” he murmured, looking over the other man. He was obviously torn up. He then glanced to Orlando, who looked stricken.
“Mr. Bean, are you sure you’re all right?”
Sean waved a hand. “Please. Call me Sean.” He took a breath and let it out slowly. “And I’m…making it.”
Viggo leaned back, watching as Orlando moved to crouch at Sean’s feet, studying his friend.”
“He’s not eating. He’s lost weight.” Orlando stated.
“Is there anything I can do?” Viggo asked.
Sean just looked at him for a while, eyes unfocused, before snapping back to the present. “I’m…sorry. I guess I’m not fit for company,” he murmured.
“Don’t worry about it,” Viggo repeated. “Want to talk?”
Sean’s breath hitched. “Talk? About the…crash?”
Viggo shook his head. “About Orlando.”
Silence reigned for a full five minutes as Viggo watched Sean grapple with overwhelming emotions.
“God, I wish it had been me to die,” Sean finally let out in a broken rush, shoulders shaking.
“God, Sean,” Orlando whispered.
Viggo’s lips pressed together. There wasn’t anything he could say.
“He was so…full of life, you know? He loved life. Loved living. And he was so young. God, I wish it had been me.” Sean said, voice thick with tears.
Viggo couldn’t stop his own tears from falling, watching both Sean and Orlando. “Tell me about him,” Viggo prompted.
Sean drew in an unsteady breath. “I met him while he was at Eton. He’d taken a break one semester to organize a big event for orphans, and he called and asked me to help. So I met him soon after for lunch. We just…clicked.”
Viggo nodded, trying not to look at Orlando, who was sitting on the floor at Sean’s feet.
“We didn’t have much in common except money and free time. But we were friends. And more,” Sean paused, stealing a glance at Viggo. When Viggo didn’t react, he continued. “I was lucky. He was my best mate, even when we weren’t…together…any more. Everyone who met him, loved him. He was gorgeous and didn’t mind flaunting it. But his heart was pure and in the right place. He was…too good for this world, I see that now.”
Viggo closed his eyes at Orlando’s choked sob.
“He worked relentlessly for charity, especially for children. He worked himself into exhaustion. So I’d been after him for weeks and weeks to take a break. I invited him up here to Sheffield,” Sean’s eyes glazed in memory, his face ravaged with sorrow. “I even agreed to let him fly us up here, even though I hate flying. Anything to get him to take a break! And then…”
Viggo scooted over on the couch, taking Sean’s hand.
“And then this happened. And I can’t help but feel like it’s my fault, somehow,” Sean finished, choking out the last few words.
“No! It’s not your fault! I almost got you killed!” Orlando cried out to unhearing ears.
Viggo flinched. “There’s nothing you could have done,” he murmured, knowing Sean wouldn’t really hear him, either.
*~*
Sean stood in the kitchen, waiting for the water in the tea kettle to boil. Viggo sat at the table while Orlando hovered in the corner.
“Tell him I’m here.”
“What?” Viggo asked in surprise, before he could stop himself.
Sean turned to look at him questioningly.
Viggo grasped for something intelligent to say. “Um, what do you think you’ll do next?”
Sean shrugged. “Haven’t really thought about it.” He turned back to the stove.
“Viggo. He’s hurting so badly. Please. Help me talk to him,” Orlando moved to Viggo’s side, touching his arm. Viggo looked at Orlando in disbelief. “Please, Viggo. Please.”
Please, Lord, give me strength. “Sean, I need to tell you something.”
Sean carried the kettle and mugs over to the table, looking up at Viggo, face expectant.
Viggo quailed. “Maybe you should sit down.”
Sean did, pouring the hot water over tea leaves, opening the sugar canister.
“I saw Orlando that night.” Viggo started.
Sean’s hands stilled, and Viggo could see the shudder that rocked through the man’s frame. “They said they found him quite a way from the crash site,” Sean whispered. “He’d been…thrown from the plane on impact.”
Orlando stilled as Viggo looked at him again. “I mean, I SAW Orlando that night. Alive.”
Sean looked up at him, pain clear in his eyes. “You mean, he wasn’t…” his voice broke, eyes bright with more tears.
Viggo’s eyes widened as he figured out what Sean was thinking. “Sean, this is going to be difficult to understand. I saw Orlando that night. I talked with him and brought him to the hospital.”
Sean shook his head, not understanding.
“He’s here with me now.”
Sean just stared at him. After a minute, a disbelieving laugh ripped out of him. “Are you sure you’re recovered from your own hit on the head?”
Viggo nodded. “Really. He’s here. He’s sort of…haunting me.”
Sean’s lips pressed together into a white line and his back went rigid. “That’s not funny, Viggo. Not funny at all.”
“Sean, you have to believe me. Orlando’s very concerned about you.”
Sean looked up from stirring his teacup, anger growing in his eyes and making his voice harsh. “You expect me to believe Orlando’s a ghost? And he’s haunting you, a total stranger?”
Viggo spread his hands. “I can’t explain it. I guess it’s because I found him that night.”
“Call him Beanie. That’s my nickname for him,” Orlando instructed as he sat at the table in the chair between the two men.
Viggo sat back, hoping Sean wouldn’t take a swing at him. “He says he called you Beanie.”
Sean stilled, confusion clear on his face.
“He loves footie, which I couldn’t stand.”
“You love football, he hates it.”
“I once stole his car and wrecked the front end.”
“He wrecked your car after stealing it.”
“And I caught him shagging a girl a couple weeks ago, the bastard.”
“He says he caught you shag…I’m not repeating that!”
Sean set down his mug, watching as Viggo turned to tell off thin air. His eyes were already wide and his mind was whirling. “There’s no way you could have known that. Nobody knows. Except Orlando.” Sean paused. “He’s…really here?”
Viggo nodded slowly.
“Where?”
Viggo inclined his head to the chair between them. Sean looked there uneasily, swallowing, before taking a painful leap of faith.
“Does he…look OK?”
Viggo smiled softly. “He’s beautiful.” Sean bit his lip.
Viggo looked back at Orlando, who was gazing at him with an unidentifiable emotion in his eyes. “Anything else you want to tell him?” Viggo asked.
“Tell him I don’t blame him. And that I love him,” Orlando requested softly.
Viggo sighed. “He said to tell you he doesn’t blame you. And that he loves you.”
Sean stared at Viggo, a single tear trailing down his cheek.
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so sad! and Orlando and Viggo ... coming nicely, isn't it? lol
the only thing i'm worried about right now is: only 7 chapters left????? lol
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And wonderful, as always. I'm still trying to figure out how everyone's going to end up happy in the end. (Which they are. *nudge nudge* *hint hint*) And the only option I'm coming up with is for Orli to just... not be dead. Yeah.
Is it tomorrow yet?
Adrienne
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*erm* *feet shuffle*
Well, OK, I would. But that doesn't necessarily mean that this one doesn't have one. Not that I'm hinting!