Love Lost and Found

Peter sighed and looked around the room once more. Most of the cast were present and eagerly waiting for him to say something. He dreaded telling them that filming would be delayed for at least two or three months, maybe even half a year. Orlando and Viggo were too important too continue without them and they were too far into shooting to recast now.
He inhaled deeply and then addressed the assembled cast.
“As you all probably know, Orlando has had a car accident and is still recovering from his injuries.” He sighed as soft murmurs filled the room. “Quit, please!” he continued. “Some of you already know too, that a burglar entered Viggo’s house while he was on set yesterday. Coming home early Viggo surprised the burglar.” He paused for a few seconds before he resumed to speak to the now deadly silent room., “He was stabbed as the burglar tried to flee.” At once an incoherent mumble of questions and comments was aimed at him; everybody seemed to have something to put in. Peter rubbed the bridge of his nose, like he always did when he was nervous or stressed.
“We have to stop filming for at least two or three months. You can consider it some sort of holiday. You are not required to stay in New Zealand if you do not wish to. We will inform you when you are needed to return. That’s all I’m going to say. Good day.”
He turned and almost ran outside, unwilling to talk about the events of the last few days anymore. He couldn’t quite believe that it had been only yesterday that Viggo had almost been killed. He only stopped as he heard someone call his name.
“Peter! Peter! For fuck’s sake, wait up!” sighing he turned and met Ian McKellen’s angry glare.
“I understand that this is difficult for you but do you honestly think that that was the right way to tell them? They are Orlando’s and Viggo’s friends, too. They deserve at least a little bit more information.”
“Don’t you start on me like that, Ian!” Peter hissed. “I did not have the nerve to tell them! What was I to say? Sorry, but one of your friends tried to kill himself and was raped shortly afterwards by a man who stabbed another of your friends and whom the police cannot even name? They haven’t got a clue, much less a suspect! I have not only lost two friends, Ian. I have also lost two of the most important actors for this movie. You have no idea, what’s difficult for me and what isn’t!”
Ian just stared at Peter and shook his head slowly. “That’s where you’re wrong, Peter.”
He said finally. “We understand much more than you think. Especially because we are your friends. We know what Orlando means to you; and we understand. Even if you don’t believe that. You can always come to us if you feel like talking. I just thought you should know that.”
Peter was left staring wide-eyed after the knight in amazed bewilderment. //They know! About Orlando… But how? I always thought I hid it well…//
Realizing that his standing in the middle of nowhere must seem quite odd, he turned and went slowly to the trailer he shared with his wife. He wasn’t ready to deal with Ian’s sympathy yet.
The whole set was in an uproar, he noticed, as he walked past the members of the supporting cast who had decided to leave.
Everywhere people were talking and packing, carrying their bags to the waiting taxis and their cars. Most of those who did not seem to want to gossip, seemed eager to leave.
//Perhaps they’re afraid of being the next…// Peter thought //And who knows, they might even be right…// a bitter smile curve his lips as he walked around, seeing his vision of the film, his dream, dissolve. He could only hope that New Line Cinema would allow them to continue filming as soon as Orlando and Viggo were better. As it was, they could just as probably end filming as well. //Fuck!// was his last thought as he slammed the door shut, still seething with anger, but angry at nobody in particular.

He woke as he sensed another presence in the room, blinking confusedly against the light. He had no idea what time it was. Or what day for that matter. A strangled moan escaped his lips as his memories returned with renewed force.
“No!” He struggled awake and tried to jump up but his limbs were too heavy.
“It’s alright.” A soothing voice suddenly said. “You’re just feeling the after-effects of the sleeping-injection I gave you.”
“Dr Stein.” Orlando sighed relieved. “How long did I sleep?”
“The whole night and most of the day.” The Doctor replied solemnly. “And believe me, you needed the rest. Needed it badly.”
For a while Orlando closed his eyes, refusing to acknowledge the memories of what had happened to him. It was just too awful and he didn’t want to remember. //Not again…//
“It won’t help. You know.” Dr Stein’s voice suddenly invaded his thoughts.
“What won’t help?” Orlando angrily snapped at him.
“Denying the memories of what has happened, pushing them aside, trying not to remember. What ever you want to call it.” He shrugged nonchalantly and waited for Orlando to answer.
“How can you know`?” The young man finally whispered, his whole body shaking like a leaf.
Dr Stein hesitated a little before answering.
“You spoke in your sleep, boy. And most of what I heard only confirmed my suspicions.”
“Your suspicions? What did I say?” Orlando croaked, tears welling up n his eyes. //I don’t want him to know… he’ll never act normal around me again…// “How much do you know?”
“Almost everything, I think. At least I hope so. I would hate to think that even more has been done to you.”
“You don’t know anything, Doctor.” Orlando whispered. “You can’t. You wouldn’t know how to understand. You can’t.”
“Why are you so sure of that?” Doctor Stein asked. “Have you ever tried to make someone understand? I mean really tried?”
Wordlessly Orlando shook his head.
“How can you be so sure then?” The elderly man asked again. “You never put those around you to the test, did you?”
Orlando didn’t answer again. He didn’t want to talk to Dr Stein. He didn’t want to talk to anyone. He just wanted to curl up in his bed and be left alone forever. But he knew there was no chance of that happening. And there probably never would be.
“Dr Coyle phoned me an hour ago.” Dr Stein said suddenly. “She wanted to talk to you.”
“What?” croaked Orlando panicking. “I don’t want to talk to her! She only acts as though she were listening! I don’t like her!”
“I know,” Dr Stein sighed “other patients have told me the same thing about her. You know you can always talk to me, don’t you?”
“Why?” whispered Orlando defeatedly. “There’s no sense in that. There’s no sense in anything at all, I have lost the one thing worth living for. The only on who made living worthwhile.”
Dr Stein frowned confusedly. “What do you mean?”
“Viggo…” Orlando whispered and turned away from the doctor, blindly staring at the wall.
“But…” Dr Stein said in surprise, “Mr Mortensen is not…”
“I don’t want to hear his, doctor.” Orlando said coldly. “I don’t want to know how he died. I won’t listen to you.”
“but… Orlando!” Dr Stein tried again, “He’s not dead, he’s just severely injured and… Orlando? Are you listening to me at all? Orlando?...? Shit!” he cursed as the actor wrapped his arms around himself and began to rock slowly back and forth, his eyes staring blankly at the wall, without seeing anything.
Dr Stein shook the young Brit’s shoulder, hoping to get at least some sort of reaction from him but his hope was in vain.
Orlando simply continued his rocking, totally oblivious to everything around him. Sighing in defeat, Dr Stein turned and left to look in at Viggo. //I hope He’s doing better that his friend… and I didn’t even tell the boy that Goodie and MacLachlan were here and heard what he said in his sleep.//
As he stepped out onto the corridor an unusual sight reminded him that he hadn’t managed to tell Orlando about the police-men, who were on guard outside his and Viggo’s rooms.
//As if Mortensen would try to walk out of ICU in the state he is in…//
Dr Stein was afraid that MacLachlan and Goodie would cause even more trouble than they had up to now, once either Orlando or Viggo awakened to the world again.

Tbc…