Love Lost and Found

Chapter 22/?


Hurt. Hurt so much it threatened to tear him apart. “No...” he mumbled and tried to free himself from the arms holding him but they were too strong. “No, please...” he whimpered, fully aware that his plea was in vain. The man had never let go before and he would not do so this time either. A pained scream rose from his lips as he felt the man’s hands touching him, stroking over his hair and leaving a burning sensation on his scalp. He could not see anything but he knew that he was naked. Naked and helpless; totally at his captor‘s mercy. He knew that he was too weak to defend himself against the one who had taken him and he hated himself for it. He had taken some lessons in self-defence after it had first happened to him, years ago at boarding school. He had vowed never to be too weak again but he had failed. Failed miserably indeed. It had happened again since then, he knew it even though he could not really remember it and it was about to happen again now.
“Please don’t...” he whispered as the hands started to caress his back, each touch even more revolting to him than the one before. He screamed inwardly as he started to hear sounds again. He could hear his own sobbing and whimpering, ashamed to have caved in once more but there was also another voice, talking to him, telling him that everything would be alright, that he simply had to trust but he knew that was nothing but a lie. That the pain would come again and get even worse if he allowed himself to hope that the pain would indeed get better.
And yet he wanted to hope. Wanted the pain to lessen or at least to be less intense than it had been the last time. And the times before. Again it was hope that was destroying him. “No!” he yelled and shot up into a sitting position, shaking off Viggo’s arms in the process. He was shaking and soaked in cold, glistening sweat as he finally looked up to meet the Dane’s eyes. “I...” came the croaked whisper from his trembling lips but Viggo could him off as he tried to speak again, to explain.
“You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to.” he said softly “But know that I will always be there when you finally find the words, okay?” Orlando nodded slowly, a shy smile gracing his lips as he buried his head on the other man’s shoulder, his body racked by silent sobs.
“It’s okay,” Viggo whispered, pulling Orlando down onto the sheets once again. “it was just a nightmare... he can’t hurt you now. Just a nightmare...”

He lay awake, staring up into the darkness for a long time after Orlando had finally fallen asleep again. He had hoped that they had already made it through the worst but Orlando’s nightmare had once again proven him wrong. They still had a long way to go and he feared Orlando’s reaction but that didn’t change the fact that he had to tell him. And he had to do it within the next week. Peter had scheduled filming to start again in two weeks, otherwise New Line Cinema would have stopped the project. Viggo sighed resignedly. In his opinion Orlando was far from being ready to work again. And yet it could not be helped. //Like so many other things...// he thought bitterly as he also drifted off into sleep.

He sighed and rolled onto his other side, listlessly staring at the high ceiling. Debating whether to get up or not he inhaled his lover’s lingering scent. Almost an hour had passed since Viggo had left the bed and he did not really feel like getting up and doing anything. Orlando had gathered some strength over the last few weeks but the nightmares always left him feeling empty and tired. Luckily he did not have them every night but they still came more and more often now. And doing nothing only made it worse. He knew that John would be sitting in the kitchen if he ventured down but he did not really want to talk to anyone right now. Not even to John. Today was the first time he had woken without Viggo in his arms and he missed the older man more than he had imagined possible. He curled up into a foetal position and wrapped his arms around his knees, trying to warm himself as a light shiver passed through him. He was alone again. He knew Viggo would most probably be back by noon but that did not keep the voice away. The voice that was gnawing at his mind, telling him that Viggo would not come back. Had no reason to come back to him at all. That the Dane could never truly love or want someone like him anyway. A single tear ran down his cheek as his hand came to rest on the bandaged that covered the cut on his throat.
//Why couldn’t they let me die?// he thought bitterly, remembering how he had woken again in hospital. //It would have been better for all of us... I would be dead and Viggo would not be saddled with the task f caring for me.. taking care of me...// he corrected himself, a bitter smile twisting his lips. //You know he could never really care for you... you are nothing... just a liar... he was right when he said he didn’t pity you... you are too loathsome for that... that’s all... you’d do him a favour if you died...// shuddering he forced the voice to fade from his mind but an echo of his thoughts still lingered on as he stared out of the window, hugging the blue bed covers close. Viggo had left early to look at some property, insisting that it was too dangerous for Orlando to come along. The sun was only just rising, a liquid ball of red fire in an orange and purple sky. Orlando stared thoughtlessly at the clouds that were closing in on the sun. There were some smaller orange ones, who were floating high above the hills and trees of New Zealand but also some deep purple ones that were sailing the sky at a lower altitude, swallowing the wispy pink clouds and threatening to devour his view of the rising sun.
Orlando smiled for just as second as he noticed that the scenery could be seen as an allegory to the way he was feeling right now.
He was just like the sun, world to the world and yet new to the day, burning with emotion and curiosity, anxious ton see the things he had missed so far. And yet there were the shadows of his past, just like the dark clouds that were drifting in on the sun, trying to swallow the new-born glow that was starting to light the day. Only that his light, Viggo, was gone.
//Oh stop it!// he chided himself. //You promised Viggo to try not to do anything stupid! Now get up, before John comes looking for you!// He smiled as he got up, imagining John storming into the room with his gun drawn and his eyes ablaze with fear and worry.

John smiled as Orlando finally entered the kitchen, a worried frown still etched onto his face. The young man had taken his time in getting up today. He had already been contemplating going upstairs to make sure everything was alright. He had come to like the young Brit and could not help but worry. //The way he looked when he came in things are far from being alright...// John thought, deciding not to say anything. Orlando wore nothing but his boxers and looked as though he had spent most of the night awake and John suspected that to be true. Viggo had said something about nightmares before he had left. He had also said that Orlando might be a bit down. Sighing he glared down at his newspaper, trying to read them main article before looking up again as Orlando rummaged through the cupboard in search of a mug. The young actor was muttering under his breath, throwing random curses at the helpless furniture. John could have sworn that the hairs on Orlando’s neck stood up, showing his anger.
He waited till Orlando had thrown some coffee powder into the coffee machine, leaving a dusty brown trail on the floor and then decided to address the young actor. “What’s the matter, Orlando?” he asked softly, hoping that his question would not be misinterpreted.
“Nothing.” came the scathing reply from Orlando who simply refused to look at John.
“Yeah, right.” John drawled mockingly, hoping to tease Orlando out of his silence. “I can see that. Funny I didn’t notice you muttering curses and slamming doors the other mornings.”
“Your sarcasm is neither appreciated nor necessary.” Orlando’s voice was icy. “And I am bloody fucking alright, okay?”
John did not even bother to comment on that and instead fixed the young actor with a menacing glare. “I wish you would co-operate more often!” Orlando grated out, returning John’s glare with his hands on his hips.
“And just what do you mean by that?” John asked, arching an eyebrow and cocking his head.
“I mean doing what you are told to do!” Orlando’s voice had risen in pitch into a fully-grown yell. “Which means doing your job instead of blasted invading my personal space!”
“Your wish is my co-operation.” Jon said dryly, already getting up from the table and walking towards the door, quickly disappearing without looking back.

Tbc...