FIC: "Fractured" 10/10 KU/OB (OB/VM & KU/HS)

[azewewish.livejournal.com]

**See Part 0 for disclaimers & such**

(part ten)


“And I know it’s not the good thing”
--NIN


Karl's head snapped around as his chair shifted,
almost dumping him on the floor. And all Harry could
do was stand there and watch.

"Viggo!" Orli came half to his feet, halting when
Karl lifted a hand, the other going to his jaw.

"No, Orli," Karl said, rubbing his jaw and eyeing
Viggo. "Feel better now?"

"Not quite." Viggo hit Karl again, this time a bit
harder, sending him sprawling on the linoleum.

"Vig...*stop* it!"

"Orli, stay out of this." Viggo's voice was a snarl,
as he stalked to Karl, hauled him up to his feet.

"Go ahead," Karl said, voice soft as his hands closed
around Viggo's wrists.

"Aren't you going to do something?"

Harry looked at Orli, stared at him as if he'd just
suddenly appeared. Then his eyes went back to Karl
and Viggo, and he could tell by Karl's expression what
he was doing, what he was trying to do. Harry wasn't
so sure it would work. Not this time.

"Harry? Do something!"

"No."

He watched in silent fascination as Viggo delivered
another punch to Karl's ribs, sent him sprawling back
on the floor.

"Don't think that I'm quite finished," Viggo panted,
eyes narrowing. "But I'm done with you for the
moment." He whirled to Orli, pinned him with a gaze
filled with something beyond heartbreak. It would
have shattered Harry, if he'd had any emotion left to
shatter. "Why?"

Orli licked his lips and shrugged, the gesture
impossibly young. "Why does anything like this
happen?"

"Leave him alone, Vig," Karl wheezed, pushing to his
feet, glaring at Viggo. Oh, good. So he was going to
display some emotion after all. Harry just continued
to watch, still silent, still unmoving.

"Karl..."

"No, Orli," Karl said, holding his ribs with one hand.
"I'm the one who kept pushing him. I'm the one who
couldn't just walk away and leave it alone." Harry
could just feel the knife twisting inside him. He
stared, couldn't have formed words if his life had
depended on it when those hazel eyes met his. "I'm
sorry."

"Don't do this." Orli turned back to Viggo, set his
shoulders. "I could have stopped him. I pursued this
just as much as he did."

Didn't want to hear this...hearing made it real. All
too easy to imagine the dance and sway, the two of
them getting closer and closer with each turn. All
too easy to twist every not-so-innocent word and
gesture into a foreplay that culminated in the
fracturing of Harry's heart.

"And why couldn't you say anything?"

"Because saying would have made it real," Orli
replied, his sad gaze still on Viggo. "And neither
one of us wanted it to be real."

"Until last night, it wasn't real." Karl dropped
heavily into his chair, leaning forward, putting his
head in his hands. "I didn't want this to happen.
Orli didn't want this to happen."

"But it did." Harry was startled by his own voice,
but he didn't move. No, still way too frozen for
that. All he could do was watch.

"But it did," Karl repeated, voice low, head still in
his hands. He didn't look up, didn't look at any of
them.

"So, now what?" Good question. Harry didn't even
want to think of the answer. He had only to look
around this room, this cozy kitchen, to see the
shattered pieces of a life built together, of a
relationship built on love and trust and a thousand
tiny details that wove together a fabric of a life.
All of it ripped apart in an instant.

"I don't know, Vig," Orli answered. "I'm sorry."

"Like that means anything." Viggo raked his hand
through his hair, shook his head. "I gave you
everything I had. Everything."

"I know."

"Vig...Harry...we didn't mean for this to happen."
Karl looked up, his eyes moving from one to the other,
a bruise rapidly forming on his jaw. "We didn't mean
to fall in..."

Harry froze again. Didn't need to hear the end of
that sentence. He already knew. And he wondered why
it still didn't hurt yet.

"I don't want to hear it." Thankfully, Viggo
interrupted. "I don't want to hear any of it." He
turned back to Orli. "I just want you out of my house
by the time I get back."

Harry watched in silence as Viggo left the room.
"Well," he said, leaning against the counter. "That
went over well."

"Harry, I..."

"Save it, Orli. I know. You're sorry." Harry waved
him off, looked at the man he'd called his friend
without a shred of emotion. "And I'm sure you are.
But not sorry enough."

Karl stood, raked his hands through his hair. "Harry,
don't. Please."

"Don't?" How ironic that Karl could use that word
now, when he'd obviously not used it much in the past
year. "Please?"

"I..." Karl paused, seemed to be trying to collect his
thoughts. Then he looked straight at Harry, didn't
flinch away from his gaze. "I never meant to hurt
you. Ever."

"And yet you fucked one of my friends in my house."

Karl didn't even flinch. Harry had to hand it to him.
"It wasn't..."

"Don't lie." Orli's soft voice cut through the room,
cracking the ice surrounding Harry's heart. "It was
exactly like that. That's exactly what happened."

"Orli..."

Harry cut Karl off before he could get more than
Orli's name out. Didn't want to hear that voice just
now. "So you're saying that you threw away your
relationship with Viggo for a quick fuck?" Had to
admit, he was impressed. Orli was either a better
actor than he'd credited him for...or he was a hell of
a lot colder than anyone imagined. "That's all this
was?"

Karl tried again. "Harry..."

"No, that's not all it was." Orli didn't move, didn't
break his gaze away from Harry. "But, it would make
you feel better."

"What would make me *feel* better would be to have my
life back. Don't think that's going to happen,
though. Do you?"

"Stop, please," Karl said, finally stepping between
them. "Nothing is going to change what happened."

Harry said nothing, just shifted as he leaned against
the counter. He didn't want it changed. He wanted it
*erased*, wanted it to have never happened. Again, he
wondered when it would start to hurt.

"The question now," Karl continued, not looking at
either of them, "is where do we go from here?"

“Did you not think about that?"

"Not really, no. We just..." Orli sighed, sank back
into his chair. "We were just tired of lying."

Tired of lying. Harry supposed they'd also been tired
of not sleeping together. Well, they'd certainly
taken care of that one.

"Tell me you didn't fuck him in our bed."

Karl's head snapped around, his eyes stark in his pale
face. "No, I didn't," he said in a strained voice.
"I'm not a completely insensitive bastard."

"Well that's a relief to know." Harry could hear the
faint sarcasm coloring his words, and hated it. Hated
it almost as much as he hated this entire fucking
mess.

"Look, we're not going to solve anything right now."
Orli raked a hand across his scalp. "Why don't we
just...?"

"There is no 'we', Orli," Harry interrupted, every
word carefully enunciated. "You two took care of
that."

"You're right." Orli sighed, and stood again. "I
should go anyway. I need to...yeah, well, anyway. I
should go."

Karl looked at Orli, seemed to hesitate. Harry
promised himself that he wouldn't react if Karl went
to the other man. He wouldn't.

"Harry," Karl said, soft voice catching Harry's
attention once more. "Do you want me to stay, or
should I go with Orli?"

"Karl..." Orli trailed off, eyes wide, when Karl made
a small gesture.

"A pity you didn't ask me this yesterday." And now,
*finally*, it was starting to hurt. Little cracks
were spider-webbing throughout Harry's body, allowing
a thousand tiny shards of pain inside. Fuck, but he
hadn't wanted this. Had wanted to stay numb forever.

"You should stay." Orli looked back and forth between
the both of them.

Harry could have told him not to bother. There was no
reason for Karl to stay. None at all.

"You weren't here yesterday," Karl said in a low
voice. He sighed, dragged his fingers through his
hair again.

Harry felt his own fingers itch to rake through those
dark strands and...oh. That hurt. The image of
Orli's fingers running through Karl's hair flashed in
front of his eyes, and he almost gasped from the pain.

"I...I'll have my things out by tomorrow." Karl's
voice was barely audible as he turned, started out of
the kitchen. And Harry watched as Orli's hand touched
Karl's arm and stopped him there, in the doorway.

Karl shook his head slightly. “Not right now.”

“You will need to do it, though.”

Karl nodded, brushed his hand against Orli’s. Harry
felt the pain of that simple contact down to his
blood. “I know.”

"I presume he's not talking about moving your things
out," Harry said, pushing away from the counter and
walking to the window. He couldn't look at them
standing there, touching each other, looking at each
other.

There was a long, drawn out silence behind him, but
Harry refused to turn around. No. He wasn't going to
do it, wasn't going to give in to the urge to look at
Karl standing there, battered and tired.

"I'll be back later. Get my stuff. Talk."

Harry waited another few minutes after the door had
shut to turn around. The sudden silence...the
emptiness...mocked him. "Fuck..."

He finally gave into the urge to sink to the floor.

=end=


(A/N: Thanks to everyone who left FB & crit on this.
Jo & I are writing the sequel series, but bear with
us, because we're taking our time with it.)