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fellowshippers2004-03-18 11:27 pm
abelfan.livejournal.com) wrote in fellowshippers2004-03-18 11:27 pm
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A/N:
*This was actually posted in![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
astinwood a couple of weeks ago, but I just joined this one, and decided to share it here...
I've been playing around with several ideas in my head for a few months now, for a Sean/Elijah fic.
But I haven't written much in terms of RPS and don't have confidence in my ability. Particularly in this pairing when others write them so well.
Still, this idea wouldn't leave me and after watching the SAG awards and mulling over some other things, I needed to get it out.
It might suck, but that's okay.
Title: The Closet
Pairing: SA/EW
Rating: Tame, but there’s some swearing and there’s a lot of angst. (So PG then? PG-13?)
Disclaimer: Lies, I tell you, all lies! I do not know these people (or claim to know their sexuality as anything other than what they present) nor do I assume to believe this would ever happen.
Dedication: for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
girlinthecorner who encouraged me to write.
Astin you made a fool of yourself.
Again.
As usual.
Sighing he padded barefoot into the kitchen and filled his coffee mug. Picking up the paper, he sat on the stool and started to read. The Living Section. Entertainment. SAG awards.
There it was.
Sean Astin makes an ass out of himself.
Pissed off cast mate had to shut him off.
Standing up, he paced around the kitchen and then dumped his coffee into the sink. He wasn't in the mood.
He wasn't in the mood for any of it.
Fucking hell....
****
Elijah turned on the TV to CNN. They were showing their entertainment segment. Yeah, yeah, I know about Sex and the City. Big deal. Come on! Elijah just wanted to see clips of the SAG awards.
"Charlize Theron won for best lead actress in a film. And finally, taking home the ensemble cast in a film was the cast of Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King," said the announcer. Cut to clip of the cast going up for the award.
Awww, look at them. So beautiful, Elijah thought to himself. "Our next president," John joked, about Sean.
Elijah smiled. Even though John isn't an American and Sean couldn't be his president. But he could be mine, he thought softly.
Stubble. Elijah smiled again. He liked Sean with stubble. Scruffy.
"The union is...."
Elijah's smile paused and when he saw what John did to stop Sean from going on any further, it turned into a frown.
Oh Seanie, he sighed.
****
Strong arms filled him with warmth as she wrapped them around his waist. "Sean, no one's going to remember about it. It's over."
He shook his head. "You didn't read the paper today, I take it? Or watch the entertainment news?"
She did. "Sean, you know no one cares about it. It's not like you were talking about the war in Iraq or anything. It was a union event and you were talking about the union."
Her simple words were the truth.
He hadn't done anything wrong, per se. But everything jumbled and spilled out of his mouth before he thought and the next thing he knew, he was being booted. By his own cast mate.
It was always happening.
He was always going off the cuff about one thing or another.
"Sean," she said, kissing the nape of his neck.
"I love you," he told her, squeezing her hands.
"I know. I love you too."
He nodded. "I'm going out for the day. I'll be back...later. Tell the girls I love them."
They know that, she thought.
"I will," she answered, watching him shrug into his tan leather jacket. She gave him a smile, not a full smile, but a weak smile, and she climbed the stairs into the baby's room. Lizzie was awake and was hungry.
*****
Sean, come on, pick up the damn phone! He cursed out loud, to no one in particular.
But Sean didn't.
Fuck.
He needed to talk to him, to find out what was happening. Sean was all over the place lately. Well, truth be told Sean was always all over the place, that was part of his charm. But lately, Elijah worried about him. He had to find out what was wrong. He had to know. So that he could help him. His Seanwise.
Answer me, dammit!
******
The phone rang once more, and he was compelled to get it, even though his hands were jittery as he picked it up.
"Astin," he spoke roughly.
"Where are you?" was the sound on the other end.
I should have known...
"Nowhere, Lij."
"Well why the fuck didn't you answer?"
Silence
"Astin? Come on. Where are you?"
"Nowhere. Just please."
"Please what?"
"Leave it be, Lij."
"Fuck you," Elijah retorted, taking a deep drag of his cigarette.
.....
"Is that a promise?" he caught himself saying--out loud.
Oh fuck.
"Don’t you wish, Astin."
"Elijah--"
"Sean--"
"What do you want?"
"I want to see you, Seanie. We need to talk."
Sean sighed. He knew it was coming. "I don’t need."
"Bullshit, Sean. I’m coming over. Now where are you? Are you on the road?"
He hoped not. He could tell that Sean wasn’t in the best emotional state, and that meant that he has no business driving.
"No," Sean told him and Elijah released a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.
"Good. Now tell me where you are. And I’m not taking ‘nowhere’ for an answer."
Sean rolled his eyes. "I’m at Mack’s house."
Mack. Sean’s younger brother. This wasn’t a surprise.
"I should have figured. I’m coming over."
"Elijah, you don’t need to--"
Elijah cut him off again. "I already told you I don’t care. Now, I hope Mack doesn’t mind me coming over."
He just said that though. Elijah knew that Mack wouldn’t mind. Mack’s a good guy and was fond of Elijah. And Elijah had spent a lot of time at his place, to hang out with him and especially when Dom was living there.
"He won’t because he’s not here. He’s out of town for the week."
"Then how?"
"I have keys, Doodle. Or did you forget?"
Forget keys? That was Elijah’s deal. Always forgetting his keys, usually in his house or his apartment. Like in New Zealand. He’d be at a club with Dom and Billy and he’d realize that he left his keys in his apartment. The first person he thought to call was Sean. Always Sean. And Sean came through for him, time and time again. It didn’t matter if he was sleeping when Elijah called him. Didn’t matter what he was doing, he got up and called a locksmith and the next thing he knew, his keys were in his hands and everything was right with the world.
He missed those nights.
"Guess so. All right, so if Mack’s not there, he won’t mind me coming over. And I am. I’ll be there in 20 minutes. And no arguing."
Sean figured there was no reason to at this time.
"Fine."
True to his word, 20 minutes later, Elijah was rapping against the wooden door. Sean opened it without saying anything and then he went back to what he was doing--which was nothing.
Elijah walked over to where he was standing and gave Sean one of his winning smiles. "What, no Sam hugs for his Frodo?"
"Sam’s not here today, Lij."
Frowning, Elijah simply said, "Sam’s always here."
But Sean shook his head. He didn’t want to get into character-mode now. Especially now, especially with "Frodo." "He's not here today."
Elijah was hurt. Something must really be wrong with Sean. He’s not usually this…standoffish.
Sean sat on the black leather couch and Elijah sat next to him, and just watched. He looked at Sean’s face. He was tired, Elijah thought. No, not just tired, exhausted. Sean’s eyes had dark circles and bags under them. But more worrisome was the fact that his eyes looked miserable. ‘I hope Seanie’s not miserable’ thought Elijah. And if he is, Elijah resolved to find out and fix it.
Tapping his hand on the arm of the couch, Sean looked at Elijah. He was adorable. His hair was tousled from a late night--up partying in New Orleans, Sean supposed--and he looked cozy in blue jeans and a gray sweatshirt. His eyes…oh God those beautiful eyes that Sean had spent hundreds of hours staring into, getting lost into, were full of concern and worry. Concern and worry that you put there, Astin, a voice told him.
"Lij?" he said, tentatively.
"Yeah?"
"I’m sorry," Sean said softly and he was genuine. He reached over and gave Elijah a hug.
"It’s okay. Just don’t do it again." Elijah held onto him, feeling the warmth of Sean’s arms. "Now, about last night--"
"I take it you saw?" Which was stupid. Why else would Elijah be there now?
"Saw, read the papers, heard from Billy."
Sean furrowed his brows. "Oh yeah, what did Billy say?" He was curious, to see what his cast mate thought.
Elijah shrugged. "He said it was a bit awkward with the timing and everything, but he understood why you did it. He said everyone did. They’re not mad at you, Seanie."
That’s a relief. "Even John?"
He nodded. "Bills said that John felt bad for cutting you off like he did, especially because you were about to thank the fans."
The fans. Sean felt awful that he didn’t say what he’d intended. Didn’t get to thank them, for being so supportive of all of them, and him in particular, especially about the lack of and Oscar nod.
"Sean, you know the media likes to blow things out of proportion. Your friends don’t care, that’s what counts."
That was true.
"Besides, I saw it and all you did was talk about union stuff. And it was a union event, which people--the press in particular--seem to forget."
"Yeah, but it’s not like I personally was being interviewed. I used my time up there as a bully pulpit of sorts."
"Sean, come on."
Shaking his head, he said, "No, Elijah. You weren’t there. We won for best ensemble. I didn’t win single-handedly, I shouldn’t have said what I did at the moment I did. That’s why I feel like an ass."
Elijah contemplated this and watched as Sean clenched and unclenched his hand.
Quietly, he said, "Okay. Then why did you? I mean, why did you say something?"
"Because. I just. God. It’s all fucked up." Sean shrugged out of the jacket that he had kept on the entire time he'd been at Mack's place.
"What is, Seanie?"
Sean didn’t reply. He stood up and started pacing in his brother’s living room. "All of it. All of this. Me."
"Why are you fucked up? I don’t get it, Sean."
Bitterly, he said, "No, you’ll never get it. No one does. No one can."
"If you’d explain--"
"Explain what? That I made an ass of myself for the umpteenth time? Yeah, so Billy was being polite. That’s how he is. He wouldn’t want me to feel bad. I know him. But I know what they’re thinking. Poor Sean doesn’t know how to handle himself--again. Because this always happens."
Elijah’s blue eyes were full of fear. "What happens, Sean?"
"This! I run off the mouth all the time. I make myself look like an idiot. In front of people. Millions of people. Millions who watched the awards. Millions who buy the fucking DVDs and listen to me ramble like the OCD schizo that I am."
"Sean!" Elijah yelled, aghast.
"And no offense to Mom for using that term either," he muttered. "But that’s how I looked. That’s how I sound. Why can’t I just shut up?"
Sean was on a roll.
"Okay, tell me how the awards relate to the DVDs? I’m confused."
"The extended edition. Lij, I go on and on. Babble like an idiot. On the first one, I come across as this--"
"This what?"
Shaking his head, Sean said, "I don’t know. Just this crazed person who is obsessed with safety. And then the second one, I come off as this lout who won’t let his co-stars get a word in edgewise. I don’t know how you and Andy put up with me. I mean, I rambled on and on and on about the stupidest shit and I just …what was I thinking? Why didn’t you stop me? Why didn’t you smack me?"
His breath caught in his throat. "Smack you? That’s the last thing I would do."
"Well, I deserved it. And poor Andy, I totally went on and on about the damn wig when he was trying to talk. And another time when I went on about my neighbor. Who gives a fuck about it? I must have." Frustrated, Sean put his jacket back on, spun on the heels of his shoes, and went to open the sliding glass doors, leading to the outside patio.
Elijah, of course, followed.
"Sean," Elijah called to him. But Sean was just staring out into the ocean.
"Sometimes I just think that I should have been left in the closet and never found," Sean said, watching as the waves rippled by.
Closet? What closet? That proverbial closet? But Sean? Elijah was utterly confused.
He stepped closer to Sean, but still gave him his space. "What closet? What do you mean, Sean?"
Sean gulped. "The closet that she locked me in."
She? Locked? None of this made sense.
"Sean?"
He took a deep breath and turned to Elijah, his hazel eyes glistening in the sun, full of impassioned emotion. "Did someone lock you in a closet? Who? Not Christine?"
Sean shook his head. "If you’re ever bored, you want to know what a good read is?" he asked, nonchalantly.
Fucking hell, he was getting a headache. Now Sean was talking literature?
"Or even two? Check out "Call Me Anna" and "A Brilliant Madness" both written, at least in part, by Patty Duke."
Elijah’s eyes grew wider than Sean thought possible. Oh God, he murmured in his head. Sean’s mother. "Your mother? Did your mother lock you in the closet?" He held onto Sean’s leather jacket, not wanting to let him go.
His eyes were red and Elijah could tell that he was trying to keep the tears at bay. "Yes, Lij. My mom. My mom locked me in the closet when I was a kid."
Sean looked Heavenward and took a deep breath, to prevent the tears. "Your mom," gasped Elijah. "She locked you in a closet?! How could she? Why? Sean?"
"Read the books," he answered matter-of-factly, still looking up at the sky. "Everything’s written in there. Well, not everything. No one ever reveals everything in books, even autobiographies. Even Mom. Especially mom. But read them. Or better yet, watch the made-for-TV movie “Call Me Anna.” You’ll see me--or an actor playing me--being locked in a closet. You’ll see the fighting. The mania. The utter chaos and confusion. The hitting."
Hitting? Sean’s mom hit him too? Oh God. "Sean, I never."
He shook his head. "You knew who my mom was, Lij."
"I knew she was Patty Duke. I knew about her acting history. And yes, of course I knew she was a manic depressive. But I never imagined."
"You never imagined that her children had to deal with it?"
Elijah hung his head, embarrassed. "Yeah. I guess not."
"Mack was spared the worst of it. When she’d go after him, I’d make sure he’d disappear and she took it out on me instead."
Oh God. She hit him. He was protecting his brother.
"Mack was so young, you know? Just a little kid. He didn’t deserve to deal with her chaos."
Neither did you, Sean, he thought to himself. "You were only a couple of years older."
"I know. But I was the big brother. I had to protect him. No matter what."
Elijah didn’t like the "no matter what." What did that mean?
"She hit you," he said. "She hit you and she locked you in the closet."
"Yes," Sean said, finally looking at Elijah again. His eyes were glassy now. "Mack found me sometimes. Other times it was the maid. Or my half-brothers. Pop Gomez sometimes."
How many fucking times did she do this? Elijah didn’t think he could bear to hear anymore. Poor Sean. Oh fuck…
"Jesus, Sean. I don’t know what to say." Anything he said was likely to be inadequate.
Sean shook his head. "It’s okay, Doodle. I don’t expect you to say anything. I guess I’m having a pity party of sorts."
If anyone deserved it, it was Sean.
Elijah always knew that there was more than meets the eye with Sean. He did ramble quite a bit. And the safety thing. There was a definite OCD-ness to him. But Sean never revealed much about the whys and Elijah just hadn’t asked. If only he had known.
And just what could you have done, he asked himself?
"When I said I wish I had been left in the closet and never found... last night things just came crashing back to me. Or I guess this morning. At least, as scary as it was in the closet, it was safe. No one would hurt me. No one would hit me. No one would laugh at me. No one would think I’m an idiot."
"You’re not an idiot, Sam."
Sean ran his hand along the railing of the patio. "You just called me Sam, Elijah."
"But--" and a light bulb went off in Elijah's brain. Oh my God," he said. Suddenly it was all clear.
"What?"
"You. You were perfect. I always knew you were. Now I know why."
Now it was Sean’s turn to be confused. "Why what?"
"You were perfect as Sam because you are Sam. I know that. You know that. You’ve always been Sam, Seanie, haven’t you? You protected your brother. Mack. You’d do anything for him. And you probably protected your parents too. Always sacrificing your happiness for others."
Sean nodded. "Yeah."
Elijah grabbed Sean’s hand which was cold, and led him back into the house. He shut the sliding doors, and led Sean back to the couch. When Sean was settled, Elijah curled up next to him, still holding his hand.
"Mom is…"
"What?"
"She’s sick Lij. Really sick."
Elijah pursed his pouty lips. "When you say sick--"
Sean finished for him. "I mean mentally. Emotionally. She’s just in a really bad way."
"I know I don’t know much about your mom’s illness, Sean, but I thought she was on lithium or some other medication for the manic depression?"
"Yeah, she is. She’s on a few things. But they’re not working right anymore. And she’s been in a bad way for the past six months or so. And it’s so hard, Lij. It’s so hard to see her like that. My mom is strong. One of the strongest people I’ve ever known and this illness is debilitating and it robs her of herself. Her joy. Her happiness."
Elijah gulped. "I’m sorry, Sean," he said, rubbing his hand to create warmth.
"I know. So am I. I just hate it. I hate this fucking disease more than anything. And I hate that it could get me too."
Staring at him, Elijah said, "Sean, you don’t think you’re?"
"Manic? No. Not now. Not yet. But it could happen. Genetics and all. And I have bits of things. Paranoia. Obsessive compulsive disorder. That’s why when I hear myself on the DVD commentaries and it shines through or when I watch myself on the SAG awards, I just get scared. That people are going to see through this façade I’ve created for myself all these years and have me committed. I don’t think I could take it."
Elijah gave his hand a squeeze. "Hey, hey. That’s not going to happen. So you have OCD, so what? A lot of people do. To different degrees, yeah. But it’s okay. And how many people are paranoid? I get paranoid sometimes. The safety thing. It’s okay. I understand. Finally."
"And what about the girls, Lijah?" Sean said, staring blankly at the wall.
"What about them, Sean?"
"I just hate this!" Sean yelled. "I hate this so fucking much. Look at me, listen to me, Elijah!" he screamed this time, and he pulled on Elijah’s shirt twisting it in his hands. "I’m a nutcase."
"Sean," Elijah said firmly, with tears falling down his face. "You’re not."
"Yes, I am. And my girls don’t deserve that. They don’t deserve to have to watch their Granny lose it and wonder what they did, because they didn’t do anything. But they’re so little. They don’t understand. At that age--"
Elijah had a suspicion that Sean was talking about himself and how he must have blamed himself for his mom’s problems and didn’t understand.
"At that age. No. I won’t subject them to this. Not from their Grandma. And not from me. I couldn’t bear it, Elijah!" his voice was rough and raspy. "Christine doesn’t deserve to deal with this, with me. And the girls don’t deserve to watch their old man lose it. And what if."
"What?" Elijah asked, tears continuing to flow for Sean.
"What if I passed this along to them? What if one day Lizzie or Ali have to deal with this themselves?" Sean gasped, not believing he’d finally revealed his worst fears.
"I couldn’t bear it, Elijah,” he said softly. "I couldn’t bear it," he said again, and the dam burst and he was crying and holding onto Elijah’s shirt for dear life. And Elijah, Elijah rocked him in his arms and he held onto him, whispering in his ear. "Shhh."
"Shhh Seanie, it’s going to be okay. I don’t know how and I don’t know why, but it will be. It has to be." And he meant it. He would do whatever it took to make Sean feel better.
Sean was gasping for air now, his lungs felt like they were going to explode, his chest felt heavy. “Oh Elijah. I’m sorry,” he whispered.
Swallowing, Elijah stroked Sean’s soft hair. "What for, Seanie? You have nothing to be sorry about," he soothed.
"I lost it," Sean said simply, taking a deep breath.
He exhaled and said, "I shouldn’t have done that. You don’t need to deal with my crap. My baggage."
Blue eyes flared at him. "Hey, don’t tell me what crap or baggage I need to deal with. You’ve dealt with mine, I can deal with yours. It’s only fair."
Fair? Sean didn’t think so. But he wasn’t in the mood to argue with a very determined Elijah. Elijah who continued to rock him and stroke his hair and now he was stroking his face.
"I’ve never told anyone. I mean, Chris knows, obviously. We’ve been together too long for her not to know about Mom and stuff. But she doesn’t know about my fears about myself. Or the girls."
"Sean?" Elijah softly wiped tears off his face with his thumb. "She’s a smart woman. I’m sure she knows. Even if you haven’t told her yet."
He knows me too well, Sean thought. How does he do that?
"Yeah, you’re probably right. Still, you’re the first I told." Sean held onto Elijah tighter.
"I’m glad." He nuzzled Sean’s neck. "You know, Seanwise, you’re not nuts. You haven’t lost it."
Sean gave him a disbelieving look. "Okay so maybe you “lost it” today. But the thing is, I believe you’re sane. You’ve just been under incredible stress lately. Moreso than any of us had an idea of. And you’re passionate, Sean, so passionate. That’s one of the things I love about you. Your passion. Whether it’s about acting or politics or your friends or family or--"
Sean gave him a small smile and pulled Elijah onto his lap. Even though he was bigger in stature (though not by much), Sean felt small and he just wanted to cuddle with Elijah.
Elijah nestled himself against Sean’s chest and listened to his breathing, which was more even than it had been a little while ago.
"It’s part of what makes you, you, Sean. And I don’t want you to change. Even if you say things that you wouldn’t have if your mind wasn’t going a million miles a minute and you didn’t have all the stresses that you’re under. You're so strong, Sean. For everyone. For me. For Chris. For the girls. Your friends and family. You give so much to so many people. But you can get back too. We can give to you. We can be there for you. It’s okay."
Sean finally believed him. "Thank you, Lij," he whispered against Elijah’s hair.
"I didn’t do anything," he told him softly.
"Yes you did," Sean insisted, kissing Elijah’s hair that hadn’t been combed yet.
"And for the record, I hope you’ll be my president one day," he said seriously.
"What?" Sean said, actually managing a small chuckle.
"Not of the United States--though it’s not that I doubt you could do it, Seanie. I just don’t want you corrupted by Washington politics. But you’ll be the next president of the Screen Actors Guild. Mark my word, move over Laura Ingalls."
"Oh Doodle, you’re silly. Besides, you don’t think Hollywood’s politics will corrupt me?"
Elijah straightened himself up on the couch and fingered Sean’s face, tracing every contour of it. "You can handle it," he assured him. He drew Sean’s face to him, cupping his chin. He softly pressed his lips against Sean’s. "I have faith in you, Seanwise. And Frodo will stick behind Sam when he’s mayor of the actors."
"Oh Elijah," Sean murmured, leaning into the kiss.
The End
*This was actually posted in
astinwood a couple of weeks ago, but I just joined this one, and decided to share it here...I've been playing around with several ideas in my head for a few months now, for a Sean/Elijah fic.
But I haven't written much in terms of RPS and don't have confidence in my ability. Particularly in this pairing when others write them so well.
Still, this idea wouldn't leave me and after watching the SAG awards and mulling over some other things, I needed to get it out.
It might suck, but that's okay.
Title: The Closet
Pairing: SA/EW
Rating: Tame, but there’s some swearing and there’s a lot of angst. (So PG then? PG-13?)
Disclaimer: Lies, I tell you, all lies! I do not know these people (or claim to know their sexuality as anything other than what they present) nor do I assume to believe this would ever happen.
Dedication: for
girlinthecorner who encouraged me to write.Astin you made a fool of yourself.
Again.
As usual.
Sighing he padded barefoot into the kitchen and filled his coffee mug. Picking up the paper, he sat on the stool and started to read. The Living Section. Entertainment. SAG awards.
There it was.
Sean Astin makes an ass out of himself.
Pissed off cast mate had to shut him off.
Standing up, he paced around the kitchen and then dumped his coffee into the sink. He wasn't in the mood.
He wasn't in the mood for any of it.
Fucking hell....
****
Elijah turned on the TV to CNN. They were showing their entertainment segment. Yeah, yeah, I know about Sex and the City. Big deal. Come on! Elijah just wanted to see clips of the SAG awards.
"Charlize Theron won for best lead actress in a film. And finally, taking home the ensemble cast in a film was the cast of Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King," said the announcer. Cut to clip of the cast going up for the award.
Awww, look at them. So beautiful, Elijah thought to himself. "Our next president," John joked, about Sean.
Elijah smiled. Even though John isn't an American and Sean couldn't be his president. But he could be mine, he thought softly.
Stubble. Elijah smiled again. He liked Sean with stubble. Scruffy.
"The union is...."
Elijah's smile paused and when he saw what John did to stop Sean from going on any further, it turned into a frown.
Oh Seanie, he sighed.
****
Strong arms filled him with warmth as she wrapped them around his waist. "Sean, no one's going to remember about it. It's over."
He shook his head. "You didn't read the paper today, I take it? Or watch the entertainment news?"
She did. "Sean, you know no one cares about it. It's not like you were talking about the war in Iraq or anything. It was a union event and you were talking about the union."
Her simple words were the truth.
He hadn't done anything wrong, per se. But everything jumbled and spilled out of his mouth before he thought and the next thing he knew, he was being booted. By his own cast mate.
It was always happening.
He was always going off the cuff about one thing or another.
"Sean," she said, kissing the nape of his neck.
"I love you," he told her, squeezing her hands.
"I know. I love you too."
He nodded. "I'm going out for the day. I'll be back...later. Tell the girls I love them."
They know that, she thought.
"I will," she answered, watching him shrug into his tan leather jacket. She gave him a smile, not a full smile, but a weak smile, and she climbed the stairs into the baby's room. Lizzie was awake and was hungry.
*****
Sean, come on, pick up the damn phone! He cursed out loud, to no one in particular.
But Sean didn't.
Fuck.
He needed to talk to him, to find out what was happening. Sean was all over the place lately. Well, truth be told Sean was always all over the place, that was part of his charm. But lately, Elijah worried about him. He had to find out what was wrong. He had to know. So that he could help him. His Seanwise.
Answer me, dammit!
******
The phone rang once more, and he was compelled to get it, even though his hands were jittery as he picked it up.
"Astin," he spoke roughly.
"Where are you?" was the sound on the other end.
I should have known...
"Nowhere, Lij."
"Well why the fuck didn't you answer?"
Silence
"Astin? Come on. Where are you?"
"Nowhere. Just please."
"Please what?"
"Leave it be, Lij."
"Fuck you," Elijah retorted, taking a deep drag of his cigarette.
.....
"Is that a promise?" he caught himself saying--out loud.
Oh fuck.
"Don’t you wish, Astin."
"Elijah--"
"Sean--"
"What do you want?"
"I want to see you, Seanie. We need to talk."
Sean sighed. He knew it was coming. "I don’t need."
"Bullshit, Sean. I’m coming over. Now where are you? Are you on the road?"
He hoped not. He could tell that Sean wasn’t in the best emotional state, and that meant that he has no business driving.
"No," Sean told him and Elijah released a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.
"Good. Now tell me where you are. And I’m not taking ‘nowhere’ for an answer."
Sean rolled his eyes. "I’m at Mack’s house."
Mack. Sean’s younger brother. This wasn’t a surprise.
"I should have figured. I’m coming over."
"Elijah, you don’t need to--"
Elijah cut him off again. "I already told you I don’t care. Now, I hope Mack doesn’t mind me coming over."
He just said that though. Elijah knew that Mack wouldn’t mind. Mack’s a good guy and was fond of Elijah. And Elijah had spent a lot of time at his place, to hang out with him and especially when Dom was living there.
"He won’t because he’s not here. He’s out of town for the week."
"Then how?"
"I have keys, Doodle. Or did you forget?"
Forget keys? That was Elijah’s deal. Always forgetting his keys, usually in his house or his apartment. Like in New Zealand. He’d be at a club with Dom and Billy and he’d realize that he left his keys in his apartment. The first person he thought to call was Sean. Always Sean. And Sean came through for him, time and time again. It didn’t matter if he was sleeping when Elijah called him. Didn’t matter what he was doing, he got up and called a locksmith and the next thing he knew, his keys were in his hands and everything was right with the world.
He missed those nights.
"Guess so. All right, so if Mack’s not there, he won’t mind me coming over. And I am. I’ll be there in 20 minutes. And no arguing."
Sean figured there was no reason to at this time.
"Fine."
True to his word, 20 minutes later, Elijah was rapping against the wooden door. Sean opened it without saying anything and then he went back to what he was doing--which was nothing.
Elijah walked over to where he was standing and gave Sean one of his winning smiles. "What, no Sam hugs for his Frodo?"
"Sam’s not here today, Lij."
Frowning, Elijah simply said, "Sam’s always here."
But Sean shook his head. He didn’t want to get into character-mode now. Especially now, especially with "Frodo." "He's not here today."
Elijah was hurt. Something must really be wrong with Sean. He’s not usually this…standoffish.
Sean sat on the black leather couch and Elijah sat next to him, and just watched. He looked at Sean’s face. He was tired, Elijah thought. No, not just tired, exhausted. Sean’s eyes had dark circles and bags under them. But more worrisome was the fact that his eyes looked miserable. ‘I hope Seanie’s not miserable’ thought Elijah. And if he is, Elijah resolved to find out and fix it.
Tapping his hand on the arm of the couch, Sean looked at Elijah. He was adorable. His hair was tousled from a late night--up partying in New Orleans, Sean supposed--and he looked cozy in blue jeans and a gray sweatshirt. His eyes…oh God those beautiful eyes that Sean had spent hundreds of hours staring into, getting lost into, were full of concern and worry. Concern and worry that you put there, Astin, a voice told him.
"Lij?" he said, tentatively.
"Yeah?"
"I’m sorry," Sean said softly and he was genuine. He reached over and gave Elijah a hug.
"It’s okay. Just don’t do it again." Elijah held onto him, feeling the warmth of Sean’s arms. "Now, about last night--"
"I take it you saw?" Which was stupid. Why else would Elijah be there now?
"Saw, read the papers, heard from Billy."
Sean furrowed his brows. "Oh yeah, what did Billy say?" He was curious, to see what his cast mate thought.
Elijah shrugged. "He said it was a bit awkward with the timing and everything, but he understood why you did it. He said everyone did. They’re not mad at you, Seanie."
That’s a relief. "Even John?"
He nodded. "Bills said that John felt bad for cutting you off like he did, especially because you were about to thank the fans."
The fans. Sean felt awful that he didn’t say what he’d intended. Didn’t get to thank them, for being so supportive of all of them, and him in particular, especially about the lack of and Oscar nod.
"Sean, you know the media likes to blow things out of proportion. Your friends don’t care, that’s what counts."
That was true.
"Besides, I saw it and all you did was talk about union stuff. And it was a union event, which people--the press in particular--seem to forget."
"Yeah, but it’s not like I personally was being interviewed. I used my time up there as a bully pulpit of sorts."
"Sean, come on."
Shaking his head, he said, "No, Elijah. You weren’t there. We won for best ensemble. I didn’t win single-handedly, I shouldn’t have said what I did at the moment I did. That’s why I feel like an ass."
Elijah contemplated this and watched as Sean clenched and unclenched his hand.
Quietly, he said, "Okay. Then why did you? I mean, why did you say something?"
"Because. I just. God. It’s all fucked up." Sean shrugged out of the jacket that he had kept on the entire time he'd been at Mack's place.
"What is, Seanie?"
Sean didn’t reply. He stood up and started pacing in his brother’s living room. "All of it. All of this. Me."
"Why are you fucked up? I don’t get it, Sean."
Bitterly, he said, "No, you’ll never get it. No one does. No one can."
"If you’d explain--"
"Explain what? That I made an ass of myself for the umpteenth time? Yeah, so Billy was being polite. That’s how he is. He wouldn’t want me to feel bad. I know him. But I know what they’re thinking. Poor Sean doesn’t know how to handle himself--again. Because this always happens."
Elijah’s blue eyes were full of fear. "What happens, Sean?"
"This! I run off the mouth all the time. I make myself look like an idiot. In front of people. Millions of people. Millions who watched the awards. Millions who buy the fucking DVDs and listen to me ramble like the OCD schizo that I am."
"Sean!" Elijah yelled, aghast.
"And no offense to Mom for using that term either," he muttered. "But that’s how I looked. That’s how I sound. Why can’t I just shut up?"
Sean was on a roll.
"Okay, tell me how the awards relate to the DVDs? I’m confused."
"The extended edition. Lij, I go on and on. Babble like an idiot. On the first one, I come across as this--"
"This what?"
Shaking his head, Sean said, "I don’t know. Just this crazed person who is obsessed with safety. And then the second one, I come off as this lout who won’t let his co-stars get a word in edgewise. I don’t know how you and Andy put up with me. I mean, I rambled on and on and on about the stupidest shit and I just …what was I thinking? Why didn’t you stop me? Why didn’t you smack me?"
His breath caught in his throat. "Smack you? That’s the last thing I would do."
"Well, I deserved it. And poor Andy, I totally went on and on about the damn wig when he was trying to talk. And another time when I went on about my neighbor. Who gives a fuck about it? I must have." Frustrated, Sean put his jacket back on, spun on the heels of his shoes, and went to open the sliding glass doors, leading to the outside patio.
Elijah, of course, followed.
"Sean," Elijah called to him. But Sean was just staring out into the ocean.
"Sometimes I just think that I should have been left in the closet and never found," Sean said, watching as the waves rippled by.
Closet? What closet? That proverbial closet? But Sean? Elijah was utterly confused.
He stepped closer to Sean, but still gave him his space. "What closet? What do you mean, Sean?"
Sean gulped. "The closet that she locked me in."
She? Locked? None of this made sense.
"Sean?"
He took a deep breath and turned to Elijah, his hazel eyes glistening in the sun, full of impassioned emotion. "Did someone lock you in a closet? Who? Not Christine?"
Sean shook his head. "If you’re ever bored, you want to know what a good read is?" he asked, nonchalantly.
Fucking hell, he was getting a headache. Now Sean was talking literature?
"Or even two? Check out "Call Me Anna" and "A Brilliant Madness" both written, at least in part, by Patty Duke."
Elijah’s eyes grew wider than Sean thought possible. Oh God, he murmured in his head. Sean’s mother. "Your mother? Did your mother lock you in the closet?" He held onto Sean’s leather jacket, not wanting to let him go.
His eyes were red and Elijah could tell that he was trying to keep the tears at bay. "Yes, Lij. My mom. My mom locked me in the closet when I was a kid."
Sean looked Heavenward and took a deep breath, to prevent the tears. "Your mom," gasped Elijah. "She locked you in a closet?! How could she? Why? Sean?"
"Read the books," he answered matter-of-factly, still looking up at the sky. "Everything’s written in there. Well, not everything. No one ever reveals everything in books, even autobiographies. Even Mom. Especially mom. But read them. Or better yet, watch the made-for-TV movie “Call Me Anna.” You’ll see me--or an actor playing me--being locked in a closet. You’ll see the fighting. The mania. The utter chaos and confusion. The hitting."
Hitting? Sean’s mom hit him too? Oh God. "Sean, I never."
He shook his head. "You knew who my mom was, Lij."
"I knew she was Patty Duke. I knew about her acting history. And yes, of course I knew she was a manic depressive. But I never imagined."
"You never imagined that her children had to deal with it?"
Elijah hung his head, embarrassed. "Yeah. I guess not."
"Mack was spared the worst of it. When she’d go after him, I’d make sure he’d disappear and she took it out on me instead."
Oh God. She hit him. He was protecting his brother.
"Mack was so young, you know? Just a little kid. He didn’t deserve to deal with her chaos."
Neither did you, Sean, he thought to himself. "You were only a couple of years older."
"I know. But I was the big brother. I had to protect him. No matter what."
Elijah didn’t like the "no matter what." What did that mean?
"She hit you," he said. "She hit you and she locked you in the closet."
"Yes," Sean said, finally looking at Elijah again. His eyes were glassy now. "Mack found me sometimes. Other times it was the maid. Or my half-brothers. Pop Gomez sometimes."
How many fucking times did she do this? Elijah didn’t think he could bear to hear anymore. Poor Sean. Oh fuck…
"Jesus, Sean. I don’t know what to say." Anything he said was likely to be inadequate.
Sean shook his head. "It’s okay, Doodle. I don’t expect you to say anything. I guess I’m having a pity party of sorts."
If anyone deserved it, it was Sean.
Elijah always knew that there was more than meets the eye with Sean. He did ramble quite a bit. And the safety thing. There was a definite OCD-ness to him. But Sean never revealed much about the whys and Elijah just hadn’t asked. If only he had known.
And just what could you have done, he asked himself?
"When I said I wish I had been left in the closet and never found... last night things just came crashing back to me. Or I guess this morning. At least, as scary as it was in the closet, it was safe. No one would hurt me. No one would hit me. No one would laugh at me. No one would think I’m an idiot."
"You’re not an idiot, Sam."
Sean ran his hand along the railing of the patio. "You just called me Sam, Elijah."
"But--" and a light bulb went off in Elijah's brain. Oh my God," he said. Suddenly it was all clear.
"What?"
"You. You were perfect. I always knew you were. Now I know why."
Now it was Sean’s turn to be confused. "Why what?"
"You were perfect as Sam because you are Sam. I know that. You know that. You’ve always been Sam, Seanie, haven’t you? You protected your brother. Mack. You’d do anything for him. And you probably protected your parents too. Always sacrificing your happiness for others."
Sean nodded. "Yeah."
Elijah grabbed Sean’s hand which was cold, and led him back into the house. He shut the sliding doors, and led Sean back to the couch. When Sean was settled, Elijah curled up next to him, still holding his hand.
"Mom is…"
"What?"
"She’s sick Lij. Really sick."
Elijah pursed his pouty lips. "When you say sick--"
Sean finished for him. "I mean mentally. Emotionally. She’s just in a really bad way."
"I know I don’t know much about your mom’s illness, Sean, but I thought she was on lithium or some other medication for the manic depression?"
"Yeah, she is. She’s on a few things. But they’re not working right anymore. And she’s been in a bad way for the past six months or so. And it’s so hard, Lij. It’s so hard to see her like that. My mom is strong. One of the strongest people I’ve ever known and this illness is debilitating and it robs her of herself. Her joy. Her happiness."
Elijah gulped. "I’m sorry, Sean," he said, rubbing his hand to create warmth.
"I know. So am I. I just hate it. I hate this fucking disease more than anything. And I hate that it could get me too."
Staring at him, Elijah said, "Sean, you don’t think you’re?"
"Manic? No. Not now. Not yet. But it could happen. Genetics and all. And I have bits of things. Paranoia. Obsessive compulsive disorder. That’s why when I hear myself on the DVD commentaries and it shines through or when I watch myself on the SAG awards, I just get scared. That people are going to see through this façade I’ve created for myself all these years and have me committed. I don’t think I could take it."
Elijah gave his hand a squeeze. "Hey, hey. That’s not going to happen. So you have OCD, so what? A lot of people do. To different degrees, yeah. But it’s okay. And how many people are paranoid? I get paranoid sometimes. The safety thing. It’s okay. I understand. Finally."
"And what about the girls, Lijah?" Sean said, staring blankly at the wall.
"What about them, Sean?"
"I just hate this!" Sean yelled. "I hate this so fucking much. Look at me, listen to me, Elijah!" he screamed this time, and he pulled on Elijah’s shirt twisting it in his hands. "I’m a nutcase."
"Sean," Elijah said firmly, with tears falling down his face. "You’re not."
"Yes, I am. And my girls don’t deserve that. They don’t deserve to have to watch their Granny lose it and wonder what they did, because they didn’t do anything. But they’re so little. They don’t understand. At that age--"
Elijah had a suspicion that Sean was talking about himself and how he must have blamed himself for his mom’s problems and didn’t understand.
"At that age. No. I won’t subject them to this. Not from their Grandma. And not from me. I couldn’t bear it, Elijah!" his voice was rough and raspy. "Christine doesn’t deserve to deal with this, with me. And the girls don’t deserve to watch their old man lose it. And what if."
"What?" Elijah asked, tears continuing to flow for Sean.
"What if I passed this along to them? What if one day Lizzie or Ali have to deal with this themselves?" Sean gasped, not believing he’d finally revealed his worst fears.
"I couldn’t bear it, Elijah,” he said softly. "I couldn’t bear it," he said again, and the dam burst and he was crying and holding onto Elijah’s shirt for dear life. And Elijah, Elijah rocked him in his arms and he held onto him, whispering in his ear. "Shhh."
"Shhh Seanie, it’s going to be okay. I don’t know how and I don’t know why, but it will be. It has to be." And he meant it. He would do whatever it took to make Sean feel better.
Sean was gasping for air now, his lungs felt like they were going to explode, his chest felt heavy. “Oh Elijah. I’m sorry,” he whispered.
Swallowing, Elijah stroked Sean’s soft hair. "What for, Seanie? You have nothing to be sorry about," he soothed.
"I lost it," Sean said simply, taking a deep breath.
He exhaled and said, "I shouldn’t have done that. You don’t need to deal with my crap. My baggage."
Blue eyes flared at him. "Hey, don’t tell me what crap or baggage I need to deal with. You’ve dealt with mine, I can deal with yours. It’s only fair."
Fair? Sean didn’t think so. But he wasn’t in the mood to argue with a very determined Elijah. Elijah who continued to rock him and stroke his hair and now he was stroking his face.
"I’ve never told anyone. I mean, Chris knows, obviously. We’ve been together too long for her not to know about Mom and stuff. But she doesn’t know about my fears about myself. Or the girls."
"Sean?" Elijah softly wiped tears off his face with his thumb. "She’s a smart woman. I’m sure she knows. Even if you haven’t told her yet."
He knows me too well, Sean thought. How does he do that?
"Yeah, you’re probably right. Still, you’re the first I told." Sean held onto Elijah tighter.
"I’m glad." He nuzzled Sean’s neck. "You know, Seanwise, you’re not nuts. You haven’t lost it."
Sean gave him a disbelieving look. "Okay so maybe you “lost it” today. But the thing is, I believe you’re sane. You’ve just been under incredible stress lately. Moreso than any of us had an idea of. And you’re passionate, Sean, so passionate. That’s one of the things I love about you. Your passion. Whether it’s about acting or politics or your friends or family or--"
Sean gave him a small smile and pulled Elijah onto his lap. Even though he was bigger in stature (though not by much), Sean felt small and he just wanted to cuddle with Elijah.
Elijah nestled himself against Sean’s chest and listened to his breathing, which was more even than it had been a little while ago.
"It’s part of what makes you, you, Sean. And I don’t want you to change. Even if you say things that you wouldn’t have if your mind wasn’t going a million miles a minute and you didn’t have all the stresses that you’re under. You're so strong, Sean. For everyone. For me. For Chris. For the girls. Your friends and family. You give so much to so many people. But you can get back too. We can give to you. We can be there for you. It’s okay."
Sean finally believed him. "Thank you, Lij," he whispered against Elijah’s hair.
"I didn’t do anything," he told him softly.
"Yes you did," Sean insisted, kissing Elijah’s hair that hadn’t been combed yet.
"And for the record, I hope you’ll be my president one day," he said seriously.
"What?" Sean said, actually managing a small chuckle.
"Not of the United States--though it’s not that I doubt you could do it, Seanie. I just don’t want you corrupted by Washington politics. But you’ll be the next president of the Screen Actors Guild. Mark my word, move over Laura Ingalls."
"Oh Doodle, you’re silly. Besides, you don’t think Hollywood’s politics will corrupt me?"
Elijah straightened himself up on the couch and fingered Sean’s face, tracing every contour of it. "You can handle it," he assured him. He drew Sean’s face to him, cupping his chin. He softly pressed his lips against Sean’s. "I have faith in you, Seanwise. And Frodo will stick behind Sam when he’s mayor of the actors."
"Oh Elijah," Sean murmured, leaning into the kiss.
The End
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Oooh, sparkly!
Thank you! :)
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Thanks so much for reading and commenting; it means a lot, esp. from you! :)
I exaggerated certain things. And I honestly haven't read the books, though I did see "Call Me Anna" on TV *years* ago, but I'm not quite sure what abuse Sean suffered (I know he did though).
Anyways, I'm glad you thought I got Sean's character. :)
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It was good anyway. Very well done. I like the angst and all that. It works.