Green Dark by shegollum -- Part 18/?

[shegollum.livejournal.com]

THIS IS A DARK RIDE -- Shegollum
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Title: Green Dark by shegollum -- Part 18/?
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.


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Banner by the wonderful Amanda (legomyarrow). :-)




“We’ll see, Orlando, yeah? I can’t thank you enough for bringing me things over.”

Sean looked across the room at Viggo where he was asleep on the couch, his back to the room and his bare feet tucked under the extra pillows at one end. He looked cold, Sean thought but he knew that putting a blanket over him would cause him to wake. Not scared exactly, but watchful and on guard and he would not be able to sleep again after that. So he decided to let him sleep as long as his body would let him, cold or not.

“Yeah, he’s all right. And I know you’re not asking me outright because you wouldn’t… but someday you and Viggo will probably want to talk, Orlando, okay? He’s got a story that he’s just coming to grips with and it is his alone to tell.” Sean nodded as he listened, hands busy at nothing, straightening a frame on the wall or picking a dead leaf from a neglected plant. His gaze would wander away from Viggo but then go back toward him routinely. Each verification that nothing was amiss seemed to offer him a check mark against a question already asked, but it also just seemed a precursor to another one.

“He seems very, very tired. Exhausted. He’s sleeping an awful lot, almost as though he suddenly realizes he can. Like his body realizes he can. We’ve been talking some, yeah. And there is a lot to work on, Orlando. Don’t jump to anything. But he will be okay. He will be Viggo again. You weren’t -- I wasn’t-- wrong about who he is. He’s just been through some things. I will be here to take care of him in some way for as long as it takes.”

Sean listened, frowning and nodding and then the faintest of blushes slipped across his cheeks and the tips of his ears. He replied softly, a hint of gruffness in his voice.

“I’m all right, too, you silly bastard. And you know I love you for putting up with all of my nonsense, right? You’re more man than I think you know you are, Orlando, and your friendship means the world to me.”

Fingers rubbed at a pink ear as Sean took a deep breath before continuing with a smile, laughter bubbling out with his words.

“Yeah. Right. Okay, yes. I’ll do that straight away. Yeah, mate. Yes, yes. I’ll call you. Right then. Bye.”

Shaking his head and still chuckling, Sean hung up, amused at the affectionate cheekiness of the other man. Viggo stirred a little on the couch and Sean sank back into the moment at hand, his smile fading and being replaced by a look of concern as Sean watched for any other signs. Satisfied that all was well for the moment, he moved to the kitchen to make tea, turning frequently to look through the broad doorway at the man still lying asleep.

He was seated at the kitchen table, nursing a second cup of tea when he heard Viggo clearing his throat before dropping into the chair across from him.

“How ya doing, Viggo?” Sean asked softly, noting as he did so the drowsiness still resting on the other man’s handsome features. “Sleep well?”

He got a nod and a half-stifled yawn in response and then Viggo was up and reaching for the coffee maker and the bag of coffee from the freezer.

“I need to get moving, Sean! I feel like I’ve slept a week in the last three and a half days!”

Sean bit back the response that he knew was right: that the other man had driven himself too hard for too long and a deep-set weariness was catching up with him. And he hoped too that he could perhaps add that Viggo finally felt a little bit safe and therefore able to allow himself to sleep. Instead he just said, “You needed it, Viggo. Your body is trying to catch up. How many times a week do you get eight hours – or even six? – of sleep? Not often, I’ll wager.”

A neutral grunt could only faintly be heard over the sound of running water at the sink. Sean continued.

“Last night you seemed to sleep through all right. Did you? Without nightmares and such?”

Sean thought that he’d never again take sleep for granted after seeing the torments that snuck up on Viggo in the darkness of night. They slept together but rarely touching except for in the haziness of morning when half-awareness would let Viggo move close. Both slept clothed in boxers and t-shirts in unspoken agreement to chasteness but in those moments when they could allow themselves to throw a leg over the other man’s or to burrow their face into the crook of another’s neck, peaceful non-awareness broke away the barriers between them. Hands slid under shirts and soft soothing kisses were pressed against skin made safe only in sleep.

The first night Sean had taken a very long time to fall asleep while Viggo had dropped instantly into what seemed almost a drugged state. Lying in the darkness and fighting unshed tears at all that he had learned about Alan and Viggo, Sean allowed himself to move close, wanting to press against the other man and somehow let him know that he could sleep in safety. At the first touch, Viggo had jerked awake and moved away, mumbling what sounded like an apology and then a curse. Telling the other man that it was all right, Sean kicked himself mentally, able to understand at once that he’d made a mistake.

Finally falling into a light and uneasy sleep, Sean had been awakened again when he felt the top sheet pulled suddenly and tightly across his chest. Moonlight cascaded across the bed and he could see that Viggo had changed positions again and was curled tightly into himself. He was asleep still but talking – muttered unintelligible words through clenched teeth – and his hands were fists that clawed into the sheets around him. As Sean watched, he suddenly sprang awake, sitting bolt upright with a tortured gasped ‘No!’. Sean could see the tears glistening on taut cheeks as he murmured nonsense into the night, not sure what was happening or how to help. Putting a hand on the sweat-drenched cotton slick against Viggo’s shoulder was not the right answer he realized, not sure that there could be a right one at all, as the other man lurched out of bed and into the adjoining bathroom.

Sean waited and listened, hearing running water and nothing else and then Viggo slipped out of the darkened room, quietly moving toward the hallway door.

“Vig,” Sean whispered into the darkness.

“’m okay, Sean. Go to sleep. Just gonna go read or paint or something.”

“Do you want to talk?”

“No. No, Sean. This happens a lot. Gets worse when I’m stressed – you know, like when I fuck up the best friendship I ever had – or when the milk goes sour, or I can’t find matching socks, or the fish aren’t biting…all of that.”

“Not funny, Vig. Can you come here?” In the moonlight Sean stood, his body caressed in silver as he waited alongside the bed, hands at his sides. “I just want you to know that I will always be your friend, yeah?”

Viggo shook his head and when he spoke, there were tears in his thickened voice. “I don’t understand that, Sean. I don’t. I want so much… I want so much but I can’t let you—“

“It’s not your choice, Vig,” Sean whispered.

Viggo wiped a forearm across his face and shook his head slowly, helplessly. And then he was through the door and gone.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Sean turned on the light and flipped through a Harper’s magazine lying next to the bed, letters and words not really registering. He was listening for the sounds of the TV or the refrigerator opening and closing or something and the nothingness was driving him mad. Torn between wanting to give Viggo his space and needing to know he was okay, he finally gave up and went looking for him.

He wasn’t in the den or the living room, nor was he in the kitchen. Sean went outside next, hoping to find him sitting and smoking on the porch or out on the old swing. Nothing. Heading back inside, he moved toward the studio. He’d said he might paint, he thought, feeling his pulse speed up as he approached the benign white door.

Faint music came from inside but he heard nothing else. He waited, wishing for the sound of water running into a glass jar full of brushes or the swish of canvases scraping across a floor. Nothing.

He tapped quietly, faintly, scared of the acknowledgement he sought.

Nothing.

Get a grip, he told himself. Go in. He told you he might be painting.

And then the door swung open suddenly. Sean’s eyes went at once to sad blue eyes, red-rimmed and defeated. And then they dropped to Viggo's arm, his face crumpling at the riot of cuts and blood.

Viggo spoke first.

“I had to,” he said quietly and unapologetically.

“Vig. Godammit! Why?”

The other man flinched at the noise but stood his ground. The look in his eyes became cold and angry.

“Are you planning to kill yourself?” Sean hissed, suddenly angry at everything. “Is that what I’ve stopped by walking in here? Is it?” His voice dropped on the last words and Viggo saw tears in the other man’s eyes, his face livid but the green sorrowful and pained.

“Here’s the deal, Sean,” Viggo said grimly, taking a plunge he’d never foreseen. “I’m not suicidal. I’ve never been suicidal. I’m way too fucking stubborn to be suicidal so let’s throw that out right off the bat, okay?”

Sean nodded mutely.

“Things get to me. A lot. Too much. And for whatever reason, sometimes, when it is too much, I do this. I cut myself. Or burn myself. Or do something that makes the other pain less.” He paused, looking ashamed and almost contrite yet also oddly resolute. “I know it's fucked. But…”

His words trailed off into a whisper and he looked down at his own hands, the fingers locking tightly together. “There have been times when there was nothing else I could do. When all I could do was this.”

Sean moved toward him and pulled his arm up, using his own palm to wipe aside the blood so that he could see the damage done.

“Come with me,” he said, his voice tight and grim.

Viggo went, obedient and quiet.

And Sean himself stayed quiet until he was satisfied that the wounds didn’t require a trip to a doctor. He tried to clean and dress them but Viggo would have none of it and Sean looked up in suddenly returning anger.

“I don’t understand, Viggo. Not at all. That’s mad! To hurt yourself? How does that help?”

He was surprised when Viggo flared in equal anger.

“I won’t try to justify this to you, Sean. Not to you or to anyone else. I had choices to make at one time. And of all the options, this one sucked the least. And it kept me here. And relatively sane. And I didn’t hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it.”

“But what purpose does it serve? For you, Vig? What?”

“There is no reason to it, Sean. No sense. I know that. I get it! But then what purpose does alcohol serve other than to help you fucking cope? Same thing.”

He stood quickly, a hand rising to his face, the other steadying him against the wall. Sean was stunned to see that in the midst of his obvious anger, tears were streaming down Viggo’s face even as he fought to brush them away. The look on his face was one of fear and anger and such intense sorrow that Sean’s entire being ached in response.

“It’s okay, Viggo, Shhh… it’s okay. I just don’t understand. Jesus! I can’t stand the thought of anyone hurting you. And then— to learn that you are hurting yourself more than anyone else… it just tears me up.”

Viggo didn’t speak or move. He just stood with his head bowed, one hand brushing across his eyes. His other hand was still braced against the wall.

“Tell me you’ll stop, Viggo. Whatever else is going on we can fix, but you can stop this. Now.”

“No!” With that sudden, sharp exclamation, Viggo smashed his hand into the wall. “No! I don’t need any help. Just fucking leave me alone!”

Sean was at his side in an instant, afraid to touch him without knowing he’d be able to accept it. Viggo turned away from him and toward the wall, his arms tightly crossed in front of himself. He leant forward until his forehead was against the cold white plaster.

Unable to keep himself from touching him any longer, Sean placed a hand gently on the shoulder nearest him. He felt completely at a loss as to what to do next, only knowing that the anger and bitterness he’d felt before had been completely overwritten by his concern. He let his hand wander to Viggo’s neck, and he stepped in to press a soft kiss against the silky mess of the other man's rumpled hair.

“It’s okay. We’ll figure it out together, Viggo. It’s okay. Just let me try to help. Don’t pull away if you can help it. I’m here, Vig. I’m not going anywhere, mate.”

They slid down to the floor together, each wrapped in their own pain and wanting to help the other. Moonlight gave in to daylight, the unknown acquiescing to the unavoidable, before they broke apart from the simple embraces that kept them safe.

Comments

[govi20.livejournal.com]

It is a dark ride, but wonderful. Have been waiting for this new installment and it's just what I hoped for.

[shegollum.livejournal.com]

thank you so much! *hugs*

[halszka.livejournal.com]

Wonderful chapter. The healing process is not an easy way, and you write about it so well. I keep looking for next chapters of that story. Thank you

[shegollum.livejournal.com]

thank you so much! i am glad you are here and enjoying it. it is hard to write -- more so than a lot of lighter ones I've written -- but i think the payoff will be worth it. thank you again.

[rotpunkt.livejournal.com]

“It’s not your choice, Vig,” Sean whispered. - I really love how he says that. Soft but resolved to thew end.

[shegollum.livejournal.com]

yes. he is totally resolved and so is viggo. he will do the right thing -- he is just confused right now about what that is for either of them. i have been in spots where i thought i was the worst thing in the world for someone i desparately wanted to be with. that's the dichotomy i'm trying to portray. hopefully its coming through somewhat! :-)

[rotpunkt.livejournal.com]

What you want to say is coming through perfectly well, and it means something when I say that here, because I´m not one to understand such things easily... things like cutting oneself or starving until you are nearly dead or other ways of self-injury used to be very far and strange to me. I said it in my comment to the last chapter that it´s the level of truth and depth in your writing that kept me reading the story though the subject normally would not be what I want to read. But it´s more important to me that the author has something to say - and you have! - than that the subject is my favourite (the story could be hollow nonetheless).

[brigantine.livejournal.com]

Right - Viggo needs a distraction from the pain of his past, enter one stubborn Yorkshireman. Heh! I think we've all dealt with things that hurt us at one time or another. Sometimes we do odd things to get through it (like Vig cutting himself), though it makes a sort of weird sense at the time.