fellowshippers | Out of the Darkness...Light (34/?)

TITLE: Out of the Darkness...Light (34/?)
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.

Thank you again to everyone who replied and commented on the last chapter.
I appreciate what you have to say and am glad you're enjoying the story:)
Thanks!!!

THIS IS THE CHAPTER I MEANT TO POST A WHILE AGO!!!

*******************************

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

__,_._,___

“How can you say that?” the boy whispered in a voice so low Viggo had to strain to hear it. “Nothing’s ever going to be all right again.”

Viggo looked at his friend’s anguished face, heard the defeat in his voice and felt his heart breaking all over again. He desperately wanted to make everything all better for the young man. But he had no idea how to do that.

Attempting to make eye contact, Viggo looked directly at Orlando, a tentative smile on his face. He gave the shoulder he still held a soft squeeze.

“Orlando. Whatever happens, you’re not alone. Please remember that.” When the young man shook his head in denial, Viggo rushed on. “Your friends are here…with you…for you. I’m here. And I’m staying…no matter what.”

The young man shook his head slowly back and forth, the bouncing of his dark curls incongruous against his despondent demeanor. Finally, he raised his red-rimmed eyes to meet Viggo’s.

“How can you say that?”

“What do you mean? Say what?” Viggo asked in confusion.

“Why would you want to be around me? You know what I am!”

Viggo felt his own eyes well up in sorrow, but he blinked furiously in an attempt to forestall the tears. Drawing a shaky breath, he considered his next words, desperately needing to choose the right ones. One wrong word now could change everything.

“Orlando. Orli. Yes, I do know what you are. You’re a wonderful, kind, thoughtful young man who I feel honored to know. Honored to call friend.”

“But, Viggo…”

“No, Orli. No. Nothing that has happened to you—one week ago or fifteen years ago—changes who you are.”

Orlando shook his head in denial once again, his tears flowing anew. Then, very softly, he spoke again. Viggo could barely make out the words through the boy’s tears.

“But…my own mother. Even she must have thought I wasn’t worth anything.”

The older man watched helplessly as Orlando lowered his head and covered his face with shaking hands. The sobs increased in strength and became audible. Hesitating only a moment, Viggo got up and moved to sit on the pew beside his young friend. Then, reaching out, he gathered the distraught boy into his arms and held him closely, next to his heart. After initially pulling back, Orlando finally allowed the embrace, seeming to sink as far as he could into Viggo’s strong, supportive arms. Burying his face in the other man’s shoulder, he let himself go and cried as if his heart was breaking. Powerless, Viggo just sat there and hugged him, offering what support he could.

Lowering his face until his cheek was resting on the tousled brown curls, Viggo inhaled the sweet scent that was Orlando. He didn’t want to concentrate on the violent emotions that were fighting for priority inside him, so instead, he focused on the boy in his arms. The boy he wanted to hold and protect forever. Without even realizing he was doing so, Viggo found himself rocking back and forth, ever so slightly, a gentle, soothing motion that was meant to calm.

“Shhhh, shhhhh. It’s going to be all right. It’s going to be all right. We’ll get through this. You’ll see.”

He continued, whispering softly into the young man’s ear, saying whatever came to mind…whatever might help. Behind him, he heard the door to the chapel open quietly. He knew it was Sean and Samantha, but didn’t lift his head to look. He just continued his rocking and whispering. And Orlando continued to cry, though not as harshly or as hard as before.

Finally--he didn’t know how much later--the sobs subsided to occasional whimpers, the tremors lessened, and Orlando spoke. Viggo had to strain to hear the words. And when he had, he almost wished he hadn’t.

“Why? Why would my mum do that? I thought she loved me.”

“Oh, Orlando. She does love you. She does. She always has.”

Even as he uttered the words, Viggo had to force himself to sound like he believed them. And at the moment, that was hard, especially when the head pressed against his shoulder began to shake back and forth, the soft hair brushing his cheek with each short movement.

“No. She used me. Just like…” he trailed off, obviously unable to continue, and Viggo felt his shirt becoming wet with still-falling tears. Then the soft voice continued, low and muffled against the older man’s shoulder. “Why does everyone I love hurt me? Am I that bad a person?”

“Don’t even think that,” Viggo replied, reaching up to stroke the hair against his cheek gently.

“But you did it too,” came the voice again, so low and quiet that Viggo thought he had misheard the statement.

His hand stopped its stroking motion for a moment as he tried to process what he’d just heard.

“What are you talking about, Orli? How did I hurt you?”

Even as he asked the question, Viggo felt his heart sinking. He knew. He knew what Orlando was talking about and he had no idea what to say to him. How to explain it.

“You didn’t come.”

There it was. Out in the open. He’d known that was what the young man was referring to, but hearing it spoken aloud made it seem all the more real. And he didn’t know how to explain it. How did he tell the young man in his arms—the young man who was hurting so badly for so many reasons—that he’d wanted to be there every minute? That he didn’t want to leave him at all? But that the boy’s own mother had banished him from the hospital—and from his side—seemingly for good?

Viggo knew he couldn’t tell Orlando any of that. Especially after the young man had just discovered that his own mother had basically prostituted him for her own gain. So, biting his tongue and his pride, he said the only thing he could think to say.

“I wanted to come, Orli, but I just…couldn’t.”

Orlando pulled back slightly and lifted his head just enough to look at Viggo’s face. The young man’s expression was filled with so much pain and anguish that the older man had to look away for a moment. He couldn’t bear to keep looking, knowing that he was the cause of that suffering.

And then, voice still low and trembling slightly, “But I thought you were my friend.” The chocolate brown eyes closed as more tears fell.

Viggo felt his own tears threatening to return and swallowed the lump in his throat as he tried to remain firm in his resolve. But then, a voice from the back caught his attention.

“Tell him, Viggo. He needs to know. He deserves to know.”

Viggo looked over the precious head he held to where Sean and Samantha stood in the back, by the door. As their eyes met, Sean inclined his head, urging him to tell Orlando the truth. But still, he hesitated, not wanting to further tarnish the young man’s image of his mother. Samantha made the decision for him.

“It’s all right, Viggo. He needs to know. You need to be fair to yourself—and to him.”

Locking eyes with Orlando’s sister, Viggo saw the sadness reflected there. Sadness for all that had happened to her brother. Sadness for all that her mother had done. But there was also a glimmer of determination. Determination that her little brother would come out on top and get past everything that had occurred. It was that that decided Viggo. Nodding to Samantha, he turned his full attention back to the young man in his arms.

“Orlando. I wanted to be there with you. More than anything in the world I wanted to be by your side. But…there was a problem…something that kept me from doing that.”

The young man in his embrace lifted a wet face to look at him questioningly.

“What was it?” he asked, sounding as if he didn’t dare believe there was a concrete reason for Viggo’s absence.

Here was the hard part. Viggo swallowed and blinked, gathering his courage around him like Aragorn’s cloak.

“It was…it was your mother, Orlando.”

Brown eyes filled with confusion.

“My Mum?”

Viggo nodded solemnly.

“Yes, your mother. She decided that she didn’t want me…or Sean…to visit you anymore.” There, it was out. And now that it was out, it was easier to continue. “She gave orders that we weren’t allowed anywhere near your room. I tried, but….couldn’t get in.” Seeing the confusion slowly turn to despair, Viggo rushed to finish. “But it’s all right, Orli. I’m here now. With you. And I’m not leaving this time.”

Orlando shook his head back and forth. He looked like he was in shock.

“I don’t understand. Why would she do that?”

Heaving a heavy sigh, Viggo looked at him sadly, tightening his grip around the still trembling shoulders.

“I’m not sure, Orli. After I told you that I knew about what had happened to you…before…you got very upset. She blamed me for that. She said I was filling your head with lies. Upsetting you with things that had never even happened.”

Orlando shook his head slowly, his eyes more sorrowful than anything Viggo had ever seen. In fact, the young man’s entire expression was one of total and absolute dejection. With a quiet sniff, he rubbed a hand across his eyes and looked at Viggo once more.

“But it did,” he whispered. “It did.”

Out of the Darkness...Light (34/?)

no subject

no subject