Green Dark by shegollum -- Part 15/?
Oct. 26th, 2005 09:31 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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rugbytackleThis is a dark ride. -- Shegollum
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Title: Green Dark by shegollum -- Part 15/?
Author: shegollum
Pairing: Viggo/Bean; includes Orlando, too.
Rating: R - NC17
Summary: Morning after the night before...where are they in this strange new space?
Warnings: Angst; mental cruelty/instability; possibly non-con; cutting; substance abuse -- you name it...we've probably got it.
Disclaimer: No truth in it at all.
Archive: Viggo-Cursive and rugbytackle eventually
A/N: Not beta'd. All errors are completely mine and mine alone.
I love feedback, pure and simple... :-)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Banner by the wonderful Amanda (![[profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
legomyarrow). :-)
Ch 15
There was a bit of light in the green dark of Sean’s eyes as he looked as him. Viggo’s own eyes narrowed, the skin around them crinkling with his realization that Sean had left an opening.
“Yes,” he said slowly, feeling unsteady in his ability to ward off the other man’s obvious concern. His brain was racing: telling him how very much he needed to get back in control…reminding him that he did not deserve this chance…warning him that to open the gate even just the smallest bit would start things he might not be able to control. And he had worked so hard and for so long for that control.
Sean watched the battle, the struggle to stay removed, remote, untouchable and calm so evident on Viggo’s face. It was his eyes – for an instant wide-open and readable – that gave him away to Sean. The Englishman could see the weary fear and the frayed edges of whatever it was that was being held back behind those blue-gray barriers. He murmured a few words, trying to let Viggo know it was okay to take his time -- to allow himself to think through what he was doing -- but his every action seemed only to be geared toward holding himself in one piece.
Sean watched as Viggo wrapped his arms tightly around his own torso, his large hands sliding up inside the opposing sleeves. He noticed the deliberately slow breaths taken and given, and then the eyes looking at him once again, a frantic energy in them just before they closed off and Viggo looked down. And then Sean saw the red stain pushing through the worn plaid of the shirt, saw the points of knuckles bubbled up under the sleeve as Viggo’s hands busied themselves in a silent rhythmic motion – clawing and then scraping from elbow to wrist and he realized that, impossibly, insanely, unimaginably, the other man was quietly tearing into his own skin with his fingernails.
“Vig! What the fuck are you doing?!”
His startled yell had an immediate affect, pulling Viggo back to him as though out of a fog. The other man looked at him…at his chest, his mouth, but not into his eyes. He stood completely still as though waiting for something else to happen and Sean could see that only that his hands remained where they were, clenched just as tightly against the yielding skin, still imprinting the backs of his hands on the fabric that hid them. Dots of fresh blood were scattered now against the older darker stains on the worn plaid shirt.
Sean reached blindly and instinctively, wanting to stop the blood, sooth the hurt, but his touch was rebuffed as the other man turned violently. Viggo roughly pulled his hands from his sleeves and shoved clenched-fisted arms into pants pockets, his face stony and angry now.
“Are we through here?” he muttered through almost clenched teeth, moving dismissively away.
Raw fury and fear connected in Sean’s brain and he reacted without forethought, grabbing Viggo by the arm and jerking him back to face him.
“Don’t walk away from me. What the fuck is this about?” With that, he yanked at a long sleeve, pulling it up to an elbow. Angry red and brown scratches and cuts – all varying in age and degree of healing – were deliberately exposed for the first time to anyone other than the one who caused them. Sean immediately stopped speaking, stopped moving, only staring uncomprehendingly at the savage wounds and scars on Viggo’s arm. At the same time, uncensored anger – held tight within his heart for so very, very long -- ripped out of Viggo and he swung blindly at Sean, connecting solidly with the Englishman’s jaw.
Sean staggered back and he felt tears welling in his eyes but knew they weren’t from pain. They were out of a sorrow for what he was just beginning to realize had gone on. For what he had been too hurt and angry to see. And for how he failed this man.
Viggo seemed shocked at -- disbelieving of -- his own actions and was looking in dismay at his reddened hand. His breathing was heavy and uneven and everything about him seemed pained and ragged in some way. Sean moved closer, all of his own rage gone from him for the moment. In its place he felt only a need to assuage some of the anguish he saw and felt before him.
He stood silently before Viggo for a terrified moment before finally reaching out to fold his own large hands around the one that had been used against him. He gently soothed and uncurled clenched fingers, smoothing his own palms over and around, seeking to ease the trembling and tension.
“Viggo.” Sean’s accented rasp was a soft caress around the name.
Viggo stood quietly but with his head lowered and Sean gently, tentatively reached for the other man, tilting his chin up, silently asking him to look at him. Viggo’s eyes were wet with unshed tears, red-rimmed and sorrowful.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered in a shaky voice.
“Hush,” said Sean faintly. “It’s okay, Viggo. It’s okay.”
His brain was rushing ahead, trying like hell to figure out what had happened…what was happening…and how it could be okay again. He thought for a moment that he didn’t know what to say or do, but he knew he had to do something to keep Viggo talking to him, open to him in any way. He struggled for a way to bring them back to some sort of common footing regarding who they were to each other. It was all right there in his head and his heart – and he only hoped it remained in Viggo’s as well – but it was on the other side of the memories of that night together. He plunged ahead, hoping that the words he chose were the right ones.
“Viggo? What you did…when you left that morning…it hurt you, too, didn’t it? I didn’t know. I didn’t know, love. I’m so sorry.”
The hesitant half-nod broke his heart and his own eyes were overwhelmed by tears that he couldn’t hold back. They spilled down over his rough cheeks as he continued in an uneven whisper.
“Why then, Vig? Why? What could you have been so afraid of? With me of all people? I would have never hurt you. Not then, Viggo. Not now.”
Looking panicked, the other man tried to pull away then but Sean couldn’t let him. Not yet.
“Viggo,” he whispered. “Please.”
Viggo stopped resisting, standing still, almost as though he didn’t know what else to do any more. Sean dipped his head down to look up into the quiet face, needing to connect eye-to-eye.
“Let me see, Vig. I need to understand. Please.”
The other man let his own eyes go blank as they locked onto Sean’s. There was a perceptible disconnection that chilled Sean completely but along with it came silent permission as Viggo started to undo the buttons down the front of his shirt. Sean moved closer and gently pushed the garment open and then back over Viggo’s shoulders, sucking in a harsh breath at the enormity of what he saw: cross-hatched cuts and tears of varying age and severity down both arms, scars of what could have been letters or symbols carved into his chest and odd circular scars overlapping across the tender flesh inside an elbow.
Viggo stood with eyes closed, taking what felt like punishment as he let Sean absorb what he saw. When he finally opened his eyes again, he was resolute.
“Let me go, Sean. Don’t waste your time here. On this.”
He turned as though to leave and Sean cut him off, stepping quickly between Viggo and the door. Sean’s face was convoluted with pain and sadness and for the first time Viggo seemed to register this. His head snapped back as through he’d been stricken and he looked panicked and shameful. When he spoke, it was with a voice broken and raw.
“Sean. Please. I can’t do this. I can’t be normal. I can’t be a partner. Not even a fucking friend anymore. I’m so fucked…so fucked. Please go. It’s okay to go. Please.”
“That’s bullshit, Viggo.” Sean was whispering, more scared than he’d ever been in his life and unsure of what evil he might disturb by speaking too loudly, being too sure of his own convictions.
“No. Sean, its not. I know what I am and why I do what I do. And I won’t ever be able to just be. Don’t…just don’t…”
Sean looked into Viggo’s face, so filled with pain, and he whispered to him, “What has happened, Viggo? What can’t you just be? Who has hurt you so?” He held the other man’s head gently, so gently, between his hands and he looked deep into sorrow-filled and shamed eyes until they closed against him and then he kissed the lids, lingering long over the salty taste that touched his lips, no longer knowing if it came from Viggo’s eyes or his own.
He felt Viggo lean into him and he moved to pull him closer, wanting nothing more than to shelter him. But then he felt the other man catch himself and step away again, his face now a furious mask as he spoke.
“I’m such a fuck-up, Sean. You have no idea. I am a complete loss, man. Complete,” he paused, taking a strained breath before continuing. “Yeah, there was someone and yeah, he was bad. So fucking what?! Who hasn’t had something bad happen? I just handle it less well than some.” He finished with a disgusted snort, the biting sarcasm of his rage clearly aimed directly at himself.
Sean’s head was spinning with the rapid cycles of emotions and this random anger of Viggo’s focused squarely back on himself frightened him. It was so raw and absolute in intensity. With a flash of insight that shocked him, he pulled one thread of thought from his own shuttered memories of that night in the hotel in New York.
“He threatened Henry.”
The other man’s eyes snapped upward at him so abruptly and with such open alarm that Sean drew back instinctively. The realization had snuck up on him in his attempts to understand all of this. And he’d suddenly, unexpectedly recalled the way that Viggo had tossed and turned in his limited sleep that night, remembered the long forgotten cry of Henry’s name in a nightmare.
“Oh my God, Viggo. Did he--?”
“No.” The word was chipped out of ice, solid and completely cold before him.
But Sean was not about to give up now, not when he finally felt like he knew enough to begin to understand. He moved closer to Viggo even as he registered the other man’s retreat, both physical and emotional. He let him pull back as far as the wall behind them and then he stopped, leaving a full step between them. And then he knelt down in front of Viggo, reaching for his hand and holding it carefully.
“What did he do, Viggo?” he asked tenderly, tears shimmering in his eyes. “What did this man do? I want you to say it now if you can – say it out loud to me -- so that it’s not only yours anymore, love. It will be ours then…and I can help carry the burden. However I can help, Viggo, I will do.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Title: Green Dark by shegollum -- Part 15/?
Author: shegollum
Pairing: Viggo/Bean; includes Orlando, too.
Rating: R - NC17
Summary: Morning after the night before...where are they in this strange new space?
Warnings: Angst; mental cruelty/instability; possibly non-con; cutting; substance abuse -- you name it...we've probably got it.
Disclaimer: No truth in it at all.
Archive: Viggo-Cursive and rugbytackle eventually
A/N: Not beta'd. All errors are completely mine and mine alone.
I love feedback, pure and simple... :-)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
legomyarrow). :-) Ch 15
There was a bit of light in the green dark of Sean’s eyes as he looked as him. Viggo’s own eyes narrowed, the skin around them crinkling with his realization that Sean had left an opening.
“Yes,” he said slowly, feeling unsteady in his ability to ward off the other man’s obvious concern. His brain was racing: telling him how very much he needed to get back in control…reminding him that he did not deserve this chance…warning him that to open the gate even just the smallest bit would start things he might not be able to control. And he had worked so hard and for so long for that control.
Sean watched the battle, the struggle to stay removed, remote, untouchable and calm so evident on Viggo’s face. It was his eyes – for an instant wide-open and readable – that gave him away to Sean. The Englishman could see the weary fear and the frayed edges of whatever it was that was being held back behind those blue-gray barriers. He murmured a few words, trying to let Viggo know it was okay to take his time -- to allow himself to think through what he was doing -- but his every action seemed only to be geared toward holding himself in one piece.
Sean watched as Viggo wrapped his arms tightly around his own torso, his large hands sliding up inside the opposing sleeves. He noticed the deliberately slow breaths taken and given, and then the eyes looking at him once again, a frantic energy in them just before they closed off and Viggo looked down. And then Sean saw the red stain pushing through the worn plaid of the shirt, saw the points of knuckles bubbled up under the sleeve as Viggo’s hands busied themselves in a silent rhythmic motion – clawing and then scraping from elbow to wrist and he realized that, impossibly, insanely, unimaginably, the other man was quietly tearing into his own skin with his fingernails.
“Vig! What the fuck are you doing?!”
His startled yell had an immediate affect, pulling Viggo back to him as though out of a fog. The other man looked at him…at his chest, his mouth, but not into his eyes. He stood completely still as though waiting for something else to happen and Sean could see that only that his hands remained where they were, clenched just as tightly against the yielding skin, still imprinting the backs of his hands on the fabric that hid them. Dots of fresh blood were scattered now against the older darker stains on the worn plaid shirt.
Sean reached blindly and instinctively, wanting to stop the blood, sooth the hurt, but his touch was rebuffed as the other man turned violently. Viggo roughly pulled his hands from his sleeves and shoved clenched-fisted arms into pants pockets, his face stony and angry now.
“Are we through here?” he muttered through almost clenched teeth, moving dismissively away.
Raw fury and fear connected in Sean’s brain and he reacted without forethought, grabbing Viggo by the arm and jerking him back to face him.
“Don’t walk away from me. What the fuck is this about?” With that, he yanked at a long sleeve, pulling it up to an elbow. Angry red and brown scratches and cuts – all varying in age and degree of healing – were deliberately exposed for the first time to anyone other than the one who caused them. Sean immediately stopped speaking, stopped moving, only staring uncomprehendingly at the savage wounds and scars on Viggo’s arm. At the same time, uncensored anger – held tight within his heart for so very, very long -- ripped out of Viggo and he swung blindly at Sean, connecting solidly with the Englishman’s jaw.
Sean staggered back and he felt tears welling in his eyes but knew they weren’t from pain. They were out of a sorrow for what he was just beginning to realize had gone on. For what he had been too hurt and angry to see. And for how he failed this man.
Viggo seemed shocked at -- disbelieving of -- his own actions and was looking in dismay at his reddened hand. His breathing was heavy and uneven and everything about him seemed pained and ragged in some way. Sean moved closer, all of his own rage gone from him for the moment. In its place he felt only a need to assuage some of the anguish he saw and felt before him.
He stood silently before Viggo for a terrified moment before finally reaching out to fold his own large hands around the one that had been used against him. He gently soothed and uncurled clenched fingers, smoothing his own palms over and around, seeking to ease the trembling and tension.
“Viggo.” Sean’s accented rasp was a soft caress around the name.
Viggo stood quietly but with his head lowered and Sean gently, tentatively reached for the other man, tilting his chin up, silently asking him to look at him. Viggo’s eyes were wet with unshed tears, red-rimmed and sorrowful.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered in a shaky voice.
“Hush,” said Sean faintly. “It’s okay, Viggo. It’s okay.”
His brain was rushing ahead, trying like hell to figure out what had happened…what was happening…and how it could be okay again. He thought for a moment that he didn’t know what to say or do, but he knew he had to do something to keep Viggo talking to him, open to him in any way. He struggled for a way to bring them back to some sort of common footing regarding who they were to each other. It was all right there in his head and his heart – and he only hoped it remained in Viggo’s as well – but it was on the other side of the memories of that night together. He plunged ahead, hoping that the words he chose were the right ones.
“Viggo? What you did…when you left that morning…it hurt you, too, didn’t it? I didn’t know. I didn’t know, love. I’m so sorry.”
The hesitant half-nod broke his heart and his own eyes were overwhelmed by tears that he couldn’t hold back. They spilled down over his rough cheeks as he continued in an uneven whisper.
“Why then, Vig? Why? What could you have been so afraid of? With me of all people? I would have never hurt you. Not then, Viggo. Not now.”
Looking panicked, the other man tried to pull away then but Sean couldn’t let him. Not yet.
“Viggo,” he whispered. “Please.”
Viggo stopped resisting, standing still, almost as though he didn’t know what else to do any more. Sean dipped his head down to look up into the quiet face, needing to connect eye-to-eye.
“Let me see, Vig. I need to understand. Please.”
The other man let his own eyes go blank as they locked onto Sean’s. There was a perceptible disconnection that chilled Sean completely but along with it came silent permission as Viggo started to undo the buttons down the front of his shirt. Sean moved closer and gently pushed the garment open and then back over Viggo’s shoulders, sucking in a harsh breath at the enormity of what he saw: cross-hatched cuts and tears of varying age and severity down both arms, scars of what could have been letters or symbols carved into his chest and odd circular scars overlapping across the tender flesh inside an elbow.
Viggo stood with eyes closed, taking what felt like punishment as he let Sean absorb what he saw. When he finally opened his eyes again, he was resolute.
“Let me go, Sean. Don’t waste your time here. On this.”
He turned as though to leave and Sean cut him off, stepping quickly between Viggo and the door. Sean’s face was convoluted with pain and sadness and for the first time Viggo seemed to register this. His head snapped back as through he’d been stricken and he looked panicked and shameful. When he spoke, it was with a voice broken and raw.
“Sean. Please. I can’t do this. I can’t be normal. I can’t be a partner. Not even a fucking friend anymore. I’m so fucked…so fucked. Please go. It’s okay to go. Please.”
“That’s bullshit, Viggo.” Sean was whispering, more scared than he’d ever been in his life and unsure of what evil he might disturb by speaking too loudly, being too sure of his own convictions.
“No. Sean, its not. I know what I am and why I do what I do. And I won’t ever be able to just be. Don’t…just don’t…”
Sean looked into Viggo’s face, so filled with pain, and he whispered to him, “What has happened, Viggo? What can’t you just be? Who has hurt you so?” He held the other man’s head gently, so gently, between his hands and he looked deep into sorrow-filled and shamed eyes until they closed against him and then he kissed the lids, lingering long over the salty taste that touched his lips, no longer knowing if it came from Viggo’s eyes or his own.
He felt Viggo lean into him and he moved to pull him closer, wanting nothing more than to shelter him. But then he felt the other man catch himself and step away again, his face now a furious mask as he spoke.
“I’m such a fuck-up, Sean. You have no idea. I am a complete loss, man. Complete,” he paused, taking a strained breath before continuing. “Yeah, there was someone and yeah, he was bad. So fucking what?! Who hasn’t had something bad happen? I just handle it less well than some.” He finished with a disgusted snort, the biting sarcasm of his rage clearly aimed directly at himself.
Sean’s head was spinning with the rapid cycles of emotions and this random anger of Viggo’s focused squarely back on himself frightened him. It was so raw and absolute in intensity. With a flash of insight that shocked him, he pulled one thread of thought from his own shuttered memories of that night in the hotel in New York.
“He threatened Henry.”
The other man’s eyes snapped upward at him so abruptly and with such open alarm that Sean drew back instinctively. The realization had snuck up on him in his attempts to understand all of this. And he’d suddenly, unexpectedly recalled the way that Viggo had tossed and turned in his limited sleep that night, remembered the long forgotten cry of Henry’s name in a nightmare.
“Oh my God, Viggo. Did he--?”
“No.” The word was chipped out of ice, solid and completely cold before him.
But Sean was not about to give up now, not when he finally felt like he knew enough to begin to understand. He moved closer to Viggo even as he registered the other man’s retreat, both physical and emotional. He let him pull back as far as the wall behind them and then he stopped, leaving a full step between them. And then he knelt down in front of Viggo, reaching for his hand and holding it carefully.
“What did he do, Viggo?” he asked tenderly, tears shimmering in his eyes. “What did this man do? I want you to say it now if you can – say it out loud to me -- so that it’s not only yours anymore, love. It will be ours then…and I can help carry the burden. However I can help, Viggo, I will do.”
no subject
Date: 2005-10-27 07:10 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-28 01:08 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-27 07:44 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-28 01:09 am (UTC)ty for the nice comment on my writing. means a bunch!
no subject
Date: 2005-10-27 10:53 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-28 01:10 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-27 03:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-28 01:12 am (UTC)and thank you so much for your fb. you always make my day!
no subject
Date: 2005-10-27 04:05 pm (UTC)This line is fantastic.
no subject
Date: 2005-10-28 01:13 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-27 08:29 pm (UTC)And well done, Shegollum.
More soon please.
xxx
no subject
Date: 2005-10-28 01:14 am (UTC)Ultimately we're alone...
Date: 2005-10-28 11:23 am (UTC)But someboidy threatened his son??? OMG that's about the worst thing you can do to anybody. Waiting for the next installment!!
Re: Ultimately we're alone...
Date: 2005-11-05 04:17 pm (UTC)