Mea Culpa

Sorry this is *very* late, yet again. I've just started university again and I've had very little spare time. Anyway I hope you all enjoy this chapter, please let me know what you think. I really value your opinions. Hopefully I'll get ch 10 out quicker than my last few chapters I'll do my best. Here goes...

Mea Culpa

Chapter 9

Three days. Three days had passed since he had woken up and was expected to join the real world; so here he was, just released from hospital, naturally under the close supervision of Mr. Wood and Mr. Monaghan and sitting in Elijah's spare bedroom. For the past three days, he'd endured medical experts, poking him like some rare specimen, `umm-ing' and `arrr-ing' while scribbling notes. You'd think they'd never dealt with a nutcase before! He sometimes wondered if he'd developed an extra arm while he was unconscious, because frankly he couldn't see anything remotely remarkable about himself or his situation.

There'd been tests, lots of them; one of the doctors had explained they were all routine, especially in his…'circumstances'. If his blood pressure wasn't being measured, it was his temperature, or his adrenaline levels, or something else. It grated his nerves and had taken all of his manners to not just tell them to sod off. But Orlando Bloom was polite, his mum had made sure he always minded his `p's and q's', brushed his teeth and respected his elders. Even as a grown man he'd held these lessons close to him, though much good his manners had done around Mark. He could just see it now: "Mark, would you mind, please, not hitting me tonight?" Somehow he didn't see that having much effect, but then begging or screaming hadn't helped much either. So he allowed the doctors their examinations but he was always relieved when Dr McCoy came back. She was human and he liked her. Orlando got the feeling that she dealt with similar cases and didn't seem at all phased that she was treating an abused faggot – other people had the most charming phrases. He was also more than a little relieved that she'd seen past the whole `celebrity' label. He wasn't a Hot Celebrity or an Oscar Winner, he was simply Orlando to her and that was something he'd been thankful for.

Even if he hadn't liked her as a person (which he did) he would have liked her from the sole basis that she signed his release form and granted his freedom from the white-walled hell. Despite his tendency for broken bones, Orlando didn't like hospitals, he never had. Even from childhood, they had seemed to be a dark forbidding place, with a lack of warmth. He could still remember his visit to his Dad in the hospital; the doctors had seemed so large and alien in their white coats. Orlando's four-year-old mind hadn't understood that the doctors were trying to save his father. He had just wanted his Daddy back, to read him a story and to hug him, but that had never happened. He never saw his Daddy again and from then on Orlando had decided that hospitals weren't a nice place. Even now, he maintained that belief, so it was with no small relief he'd left the hospital after a few heartfelt words with Dr McCoy. She'd had a quick talk with Dominic and Elijah too, but Orlando hadn't asked what over.

The worst bit was facing Viggo again; after his rather spectacular breakdown that first evening, he'd been embarrassed and reluctant to see Viggo again. He could become accustomed to Elijah and Dom's ever-hovering presence and accepted it gratefully, but Viggo was a different matter. After that first visit, he hadn't wanted Viggo around, made excuses to Dr McCoy or `fell asleep'. Strangely, Dominic had seemed rather saddened by his behaviour, but in typical Dom fashion, hadn't remonstrated with him for it. Viggo on the other hand hadn't been so complacent and had spent time sitting in a chair gazing into space or reading, while Orlando had awkwardly fiddled with his blanket feeling like a disobedient child being censured by a very patient parent. Viggo hadn't seemed to mind the silence, but it had haunted Orlando. With Viggo, so much had been left unsaid or undone and to even begin, where to start was an unimaginable task.

Nothing in his relationship with Viggo had ever been simple, not even the damn silences. Because of the way Viggo looked at Orlando, his penetrating eyes, a small quirk of the lips, furrowing of the brow – they all spoke to him in ways that would take Shakespearian monologues to explore the true depths. Orlando had almost demanded Viggo be removed from his room, but he felt awful as his mind had drifted back to when Viggo had comforted him, how his hand had felt on his hair, the gentle yet strong movements, so familiar yet utterly foreign now, but not forgotten…no never forgotten. He could not forget Viggo's touch, how his body melded into Viggo's.

That night, Viggo's touch hadn't hurt, it hadn't burnt his flesh or made him panic, but the following morning everything had changed and Viggo was no longer a source of comfort but once again a source of endless pain, because it had reawakened his longing, his long- suppressed love for Viggo, and Orlando couldn't handle that, not right now. When Viggo discovered Orlando's forthcoming release (God that sounded like prison), he'd immediately gone to him. Viggo was quiet, even for him, but there was a distinct pain in his eyes. Now that Orlando wasn't in `Mortal Peril', Viggo could leave…again. No, that wasn't fair. Viggo had been under no obligations to visit at all. It appeared that under the combined pressure of Elijah and Dominic, Viggo had been forced into accepting that sleep – in a proper bed - was needed and Orlando had agreed with them on that. Viggo had gone far beyond his duty where Orlando was concerned, so he had not been there the hour he was finally released from hospital. Elijah had insisted they go to his house as a refuge; Orlando's own house was forbidden ground now, not that Orlando could have faced going back there, not after last time.

Despite the feeling of relief, he worried over putting Elijah out, but his friend had simply waved his hand dismissively uttering "Mi casa es su casa" with a blinding grin and Dom rolling his eyes at Elijah's obvious preening over his clearly extended vocabulary. Orlando had almost laughed; it was almost as if they were back in time. Almost. Dom had offered to go back to his house and collect his stuff and Orlando wanted to suggest going with him but had kept silent, because to his own mortification he was scared. Scared of going back into his own house because of what might be waiting for him when he returned. He wasn't sure whether to be worried or not over the lack of contact from Mark; if nothing else Mark would have made an excellent spy – he always knew where Orlando was, even when Orlando hadn't told him. But he hadn't heard from him, not a peep or a threat and in some ways Orlando found that a lot more frightening, because he was now waiting. Waiting for the next phone call – with alternating threats and pleading. He was waiting to receive either a bunch of flowers, a punch in the face or his friends' bodies and the worry was slowly draining him. In hospital he'd been protected, Dominic and Elijah had been close by, they'd never once left his side, and as Dom promised, they still wouldn't. Although no one said it, the terror of Mark returning lingered over them all.

A horrible voice whispered was it really any safer at Elijah's house? After all, Mark had found him there before; he'd find him
again. Only this time it would be much worse, because Viggo was around and he'd tried to escape. Mark wasn't stupid, he would know why Orlando had tried to kill himself, and that was unacceptable. He could still remember Mark's face as he stood at the door - that had been the deciding moment. Orlando had known that Mark had won then. After an eternity of staring at the wallpaper's innocent floral designs morphing into strange evil shapes he almost wished he were back at the hospital. He was aware that he was open to criticism for taking the bed of a really sick person – cancer, heart ase.ase. He had chosen to do this to himself and as such was undeserving of sympathy. No one had forced him to give up. Besides, what was a little `wrestling' between guys, just guys being guys - they loved it rough didn't they, there was no need for him to go overboard. It was undeniably his fault; he'd let Mark hit him, he'd let him continue, and covered up for him. He could've left at any time, but he chose to stay because he didn't know what else to do. He couldn't bear the idea of being alone again, of being deserted, so he'd stayed, been the loyal boyfriend simply because he lacked the capacity to do anything else.

He often wondered how other people did it – picked themselves up and got on with life. How did one do that when life had become a visible wreckage? Everyone knew women were abused – they deserved and got sympathy. They had people on their side to fight for them, quite rightly too. All the help in the world wouldn't change the fact that he was the one who needed to start living again. How did women do it, pick themselves up and carry on? He'd read such triumphant stories even before he met Mark; women enduring appalling treatment, yet refusing to be crushed; fighting back and surviving. He remembered once reading that victims of abuse needed to feel needed – wanted and appreciated. He had no one who needed him, relied on him. If anything, people felt it was their duty to take care of him. He wasn't blind. He'd seen the worried expressions and carefully chosen words, spoken as if one wrong word would tip him over the edge. Was he that… delicate? Men weren't supposed to be delicate; they were tough, they were fighters. He couldn't recall seeing a `Warning: Handle with Extreme Care" on his forehead lately, but then he'd never had a 'please hit me' label when Mark was around either.

Dom and Elijah's worries were justified and he hated himself for that. He didn't want to die again, not entirely; it was difficult
to explain but the curiosity still pricked him. All he'd wanted was peace, an oblivion that had been denied him and he had to wonder what that would have felt like. Would Dom and Lij have hated him? He'd never know exactly what their faces were like when they found him and he had no wish to know. He didn't want his friends to be put through the trauma of his death had he succeeded but he hadn't been thinking of them at that moment. He'd been selfish with that final swallow of the pills, with the slit of the wrist. No thought for his friends who had suffered along with him, stood by his side, tried to protect him; yet they had not gone through the pain, felt Mark's blows to his face and body. Hadn't felt each searing pain as Mark had forced him… nor heard the hate-filled words snarled at him, each one stabbing him in the heart.

They hadn't watched Mark crumble after his blinding rages, how he'd sobbed and begged him, his eyes boring deep into Orlando's, searching for something that was beyond anyone's power to give. They had not looked into the eyes of a man who was so close to falling, was already falling into an endless abyss. When Orlando saw such torment, such raw agony and fear in Mark's eyes…his physical pain seemed to dull in comparison to the tortured soul before him, a torture which he had, in part, brought about. After all, cuts and bruises healed, a black eye could be covered up. Mark had needed him, and no matter what Dom and Elijah had said, they hadn't seen Mark during these times. It was the quiet moments, when Mark held him and whispered in his ear…he whispered his fears to Orlando, how he was scared of himself, of losing Orlando. At those times, Orlando knew it was the real Mark who had returned, the man he had fallen in love with and during those times Mark protected him, so it was only fitting that Orlando upheld his side - no relationship was one-sided, he knew that. But it was more; though Orlando could never admit it out loud, he wanted to protect Mark.

All his life people had seen him as fragile and delicate. It was as if people couldn't bear to let Orlando take care of himself because
he'd screw up, oh *poor* Orlando he can't make coffee or turn on a computer – he's so precious, so cute, so delicate we *must* protect him! Even Viggo had protected him, wrapped him into his arms and chased away the demons that would seek to threaten his lover. Viggo protected him from all the nastiness in the world, Kate had protected him from harsh reality...then Mark came along. Mark wasn't the protecting sort; he stepped back, allowed Orlando to fall, and fall he had. As their relationship progressed something had shifted, the balance of power that was once so equal between them had been altered, after Mark had begun to fall apart after he struck Orlando, he had tried to soothe him and the strange sensation of Mark clinging to him, begging him to stay, apologies spilling from his mouth. It had struck Orlando then that Mark needed him, that Mark needed protection, to be saved and cared for; this had been such a revelation that at that moment he'd sworn to protect Mark, to be his saviour. That is what kept Orlando at Mark's side, even more than the threats and overwhelming fear; and the fear was not for himself, but that he would lose Mark.

How could he explain that to his friends? That his desire to protect Mark outweighed even his gripping fear of the man; how would they understand that? There were times, at the worst moments, when Orlando believed that Mark had been possessed, the hateful things he had spat out, and his vindictive cruelty. Mark had used him, and Orlando feared he had lost the battle, but then Mark would always seem to return, just for a little while, offering him hope. The hope had slowly decreased over the years and yet he'd still foolishly clung to his beliefs, to the hope that had worked its way into his heart. And during the bad times soft voices would taunt him that he deserved it, he'd colluded in making Mark what he was. He had sculpted Mark, created this monster and this was the penance that he would carry with him. He tried to dismiss the thoughts, the insidious words, but it was useless. Four years of poison had worked its way into his subconscious and taken root. Orlando had begun to him himself as dirty, as a worthless whore. He'd tried to stop; he'd dressed more `appropriately', rejected certain roles, and kept his distance from his friends, even his family! But Mark's `warnings' had got worse and the voices began to slowly grow louder. At times Orlando wondered how he had survived, especially the last grim two years. Dom had told him it was due to his strength and he'd almost laughed at that. Strength? What strength was that – the strength that couldn't protect Mark, or that caused him to swallow the pills, or how about the strength that had prevented him from leaving Mark or calling the police.

He wanted to rage at why fate chose to torment him; why had he been put at the whims of some cruel entity? Did his life serve as an endless source of depraved amusement for the higher powers? He hoped someone was getting a kick out of it. Moreover, a part of him was angry with Dominic`s presumptuous, seeking help from an ex, one that still held such power over Orlando. Everyone assumed the power was in Mark's hands, but it was Viggo who was the sorcerer. If people thought that Mark was a demon, than Viggo was an incubus for Orlando. Viggo had slowly, piece by piece, sucked the soul from Orlando. That could be the only reason why he no longer felt anything deep inside; it had happened so gradually he'd never noticed until it was too late, as with everything in his life.

Or maybe his soul wasn'tpletpletely vanquished, but buried deep, twisted and bruised. Oh what pure poetry he could think up in the depths of his despair, perhaps he was the true successor of poets like Byron and Shelly. Orlando Bloom, the original Tortured Soul, kin to poets and painters through the ages, but the hold these artists had on those around them - like Viggo. Viggo…bloody *Sodding* Viggo! Argh! Why did everything have to keep coming back to his bloody ex? He shouldn't…didn't need Viggo's help to start his life again. He'd managed before without Viggo. Yep, you've been really great these past few years and gee, everyone knows what a tough-nut you are now, you sure don`t need Viggo a sarcastic little voice in his head needled.

Why couldn't he drive it into his thick skull that Viggo was his EX – as in *former* boyfriend, they didn't even keep in contact – hadn't since the break-up. Viggo didn't love Orlando anymore, didn't want him, and why would he? Why would anyone want him anymore? He was `used goods', a `marked man', so to speak. His visit had been purely an act of charity; he'd come because Dom has asked him. End of story. But just why Dominic had rung Viggo in the first place was beyond his comprehension and he felt a little anger for his friend's decision. Hell, Dom had comforted him through most of the emotional turmoil after Viggo's departure. Surprisingly even Elijah had seemed to (very) reluctantly acquiesce to Dominic's rather ad hoc decision; Elijah's attitude towards Viggo in the past few years had been decreasingly civil and now both his friends seemed suddenly ready to welcome Viggo back into the fold.

His trail of thought was interrupted by a soft knock on the door, as Elijah poked his head round, and seeing Orlando was awake, smiled. Without being invited (hey it was Elijah's house) he came in with a tray of something hot. "You've been up here for hours Orlando, even you need food" he smiled encouragingly as Orlando wrinkled his nose at the tray. It felt strange to think of something so… incredibly mundane. The basic things of life had seemed to slip away, he'd forgotten how to enjoy even the simplest things in life and felt a wave of guilt when he caught Elijah's proud smile. "I actually made this stuff myself Orlando, c'mon I need you to eat it, the bloody pan nearly burnt me. I've suffered for you" he grinned, as he adopted a wounded expression which was ruined by his wiggling eyebrows and without thinking Orlando laughed, the sound took them both by surprise. Then as the other meaning of Elijah's `suffering' sank in, he suddenly slammed his mouth shut.

Noting his friend's sudden change in demeanour, Elijah placed the tray on the floor and sat down on the bed, wanting to comfort Orlando, but not quite sure how. Everything was so different now, there was no Mark to fight off - The bastard seemed to have disappeared off the face of the earth - and there was a broken Orlando to deal with. Knowing that such an innocent sentence could bring such pain to Orlando…Elijah didn't want that. He didn't want to be careful what he said and did around Orlando. He loved him, and part of that meant being himself. "I didn't mean…"

"I know Lij. It's not your fault; don't blame yourself. You and Dom have been amazing…where is he anyway?" Orlando asked, forcing himself to make eye contact with Elijah. It was so much easier to avoid looking at people now; it had become a survival method. Mark had seen it as flirting... as provocative and Orlando had such beautiful eyes, dangerous eyes... It was a long time since he'd used that nickname. It reminded him of when everything had been so simple. Not perfect, but just…better. "I sent the git home, he needed some sleep. I tell you without his beauty sleep, Dom's just a big hag" Elijah leaned in as if telling Orlando some great secret conspiracy. "But we already knew that" he smiled at Elijah and for a second everything was right in the world.

Not wanting to miss the opportunity, Elijah lifted the tray back up, thrusting it under Orlando's nose in a vain attempt at encouragement; Orlando barely stifled a sigh, which Elijah noticed. "Look Orlando, not to get all `bossy the cow' on you, but I'm not leaving until you eat it! Oh and I know you're not hungry but your still gonna eat this"

"Elij-"
"No, Orlando! I don't care what you say or think, I'm not sitting around while you practically disappear inside your clothes, 'cause you will if we let you, and you know that. Just…please eat it Orlando, if not for you than for me. Look…my hand's blistering
already," he added in softer tone as he held up the hand with a barely visible red mark. "If I eat the damn thing, will you stop babbling?"

"Yep!" Elijah smirked knowingly. With more than a little reluctance, Orlando began to eat the soup. Elijaew, ew, given half a chance, Orlando was as likely to throw the soup out the window and Elijah was ultimately prepared to force-feed him. "It's good" admitted Orlando, still hesitating over each spoonful. Elijah didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "Course it is, it's homemade. None of that processed crap for you my dear Elf of Mirkwood."

"Wait…you made this?! Lij, you can barely boil water!" Orlando exclaimed, his forehead crinkling, both the soup and pain momentarily forgotten, while Elijah's face took on an expression of feigned hurt. "You wound me Orlando Bloom! I've been honing my skills to perfection-" he said, and grinned at Orlando's arched eyebrow. "OK so I didn't actually make it, but it is homemade. Just not by me, and I did cook it! I tell you soup's a bitch to cook, the stupid stuff gets everywhere" he groused. Orlando's lips quirked a little at hearing Elijah's rambling monologues. There was a comfort in that, a long forgotten cotenctency.

"Thanks Elijah" he murmured, a small smile tingeing his lips, as he looked up and Elijah felt a tingle of warmth run up him. He couldn't really remember the last time Orlando's had smiled. To simply see that again was thanks enough. He didn't need to hear the words, because he knew that there were simply no words that could ever fully justify their feelings. As Elijah began to wave off the thanks, Orlando shook his head and butted in. "No, no I mean it. It's not the soup, although it was really good, but, it's for everything you've done, you've gone through, you and Dom. You're a true friend Elijah, I'm really lucky to have you. I know I don't tell you enough and I'm not easy to deal with right now, but I don't… I don't know what I'd do without you guys…I think I wouldn't…" he never finished his sentence as tears began to well up in his eyes and his words were choked off.

Elijah was torn between flinging his arms around his friend and rushing off to get a machine gun and finish off Mark in pure `Rambo'
style. But to even offer any sort of physical comfort seemed almost… taboo. He didn't know how Orlando would react, but undoubtedly, it would not go down well. While the logical part of Elijah's brain understood that Orlando had almost been conditioned to deal with any touches as threats, his emotions failed to take that into account. He hated that Orlando flinched at a raised voice, that he was unsure whether to touch Orlando. He hated that he didn't know what to do or how to help. "It's OK Orlando, we're here and we always will be. I wish I could make you believe that Orlando. I wish I could gut Mark too" he added in a murderous undertone, hoping Orlando didn't hear.

The last thing Orlando needed was Elijah having violent tendencies. Yes, shocking wasn't it? That sweet, innocent Elijah could imagine
violence, would consider using it and normally they'd be right. Elijah didn't want to think he was violent, to face the possibility that he'd enjoy hurting someone (no matter how much of a malevolent bastard) frightened him. The fact that he was even craving any violence disgusted him, how could he even think of violence at a time like this? And yet he was busy imagining various `death scenarios' for Mark! He was supposed to be better than Mark, have a higher moral code. If he wished for Mark's suffering, his death, did that make him any better? Yet he couldn't help it. This man… monster, had caused Orlando to suffer beyond measure. Not only had he abused Orlando, which was unforgivable, but also he had degraded his friend in the worst way possible. Elijah could barely bring himself to think the words. Raped. Mark had repeatedly raped Orlando, while they were together. He'd abused Orlando's trust, his heart and his body and that was something Elijah would never forgive or forget. All this time Orlando had kept silent, never told him, or Dominic and part of him was furious. They'd known about the other abuse, why did Orlando think this would have made any difference? But even as those thoughts formed, he realised their falsehood.

His brain seemed to dredge up long forgotten memories of his `gay Romeo and Juliet' (he still smiled at that name.) How Orlando had… well…sparkled when Viggo came by. His face would light up with joy. Despite his nickname for them, there hadn't been a desperate passion about them (oh there was definitely passion. He'd heard it. In the trailer. Multiple times.) but no one would have doubted their love, certainly he hadn't.

He remembered how angry he'd been when Viggo had broken up with Orlando, how he'd muttered curses under his breath, as he'd rocked his sobbing friend.

Then came Kate Bosworth, an up-and-coming actress. Pretty, bubbly Kate, whom he'd disliked (not hated, Mr Monaghan!) She'd been too cheerful to be human. She'd seemed like a Stepford Wife (in fact he'd been surprised she hadn't starred in the movie, it would've been perfect for her 1000 watt smile. Dominic, of course, didn't see the funny side of that observation.) He hadn't trusted her with Orlando's heart, and she wasn't Viggo. She didn't make Orlando sparkle, and he'd worried she'd too merrily trample on Orlando's heart in her desire to date Mr Celebrity, but his fears had proved unfounded. She'd cared for Orlando, providing, more than once a shoulder ty ony on or a sympathetic ear. She'd been gentle with Orlando, never pushed him just…been there, and kept him safe. He remembered when he'd come in once, to discover her and Orlando (of all things) baking, covered in chocolate spread and icing they made quite a scene. But Orlando was laughing, a laugh that made his eyes crinkle up and Elijah almost cried seeing Orlando that, a real laugh. From then on, he'd trusted her. He still did.

Now there was Mark; Mark who had swept Orlando off his feet with his winning grin and out-going personality. Everyone had told Elijah to grow up, to stop being paranoid. Mark was charming, he was funny, he loved Orlando…maybe he had, Elijah couldn't honestly say for sure. At times, long ago he might have conceded that, but now? What Mark had done, that wasn't love. It was obsession. It was lust, cruelty. It was a thousand things but Elijah would never call it love.

Orlando was torn. He knew how much hatred Elijas has harbouring for Mark. The dislike had been instantaneous on both parts. Elijah saw a cold, controlling standoffish prick, while Mark saw an excessively irritating hyper motor mouth. Both were partly right in their assessments. At first Orlando had dismissed it as a `clash of cultures' but now…he found himself wondering if Elijah would be
tempted to…seek revenge. The idea was so ridiculous he pushed it away. In his mind, Mark was suffering as greatly, no doubt more so than he was. "Elijah…what am I going to do?" the question didn't surprise Elijah yet there was a terrible innocence to it; an innocence, which had been brutally ripped away and could never be replaced. For once Elijah didn't answer straight away. The pleading tone had begged for an honest answer, yet the eyes, they wanted lies, lies which Elijah desperately wanted to give his friend.

It was only now he began to realise, he wasn't fully Orlando anymore, because `Orlando' would never have ended up in this situation. Everyone thought Orlando was perfect, well here was undeniable proof he was an utter screw-up. "You're going to get better. You're going to stay here, stuff your face so that your clothes fit you again. Me and Dom are going to take you places, have fun and we can even visit your mom and Sam, if you like" they both knew he'd avoided the real question.
"I…I'm scared Elijah…I'm scared he'll come back-"Both knew who Orlando was referring to, and Elijah could understand Orlando's fear because he shared it. Truthfully, a part of him had half expected Mark to crash into the hospital. The fact that he hadn't worried Elijah more, because it probably meant he was bidding his time, waiting to get Orlando alone. He shuddered at the thought.

Of course, there was always the distant possibility that Mark had left Orlando for good but he'd lost any real optimism years ago. Men like Mark didn't just `leave', they didn't `give up'. He'd seen the fire that had burnt in Mark's eyes, the obsessive desire to possess completely. There was no love in his feelings towards Orlando, of that Elijah was positive. Despair wasn't one of Elijah's strong suits. He was willing to do anything within his power to stop Mark's return becoming a reality. To keep Orlando safe, however, meant keeping him as far away was possible from his familiar surroundings, maybe with the help of a certain Dane, a couple of restraining orders and a dozen or so bodyguards "B-but my stuff, I have to get it, my keys, everything's there Elijah. He'll be looking for me, he'll know what I did, just like… last time" the words trailed off as Elijah repressed a shudder. That night still chilled him. It'd been the night that he'd truly failed Orlando…


*** Flashback ***

It took a moment for Orlando to gain his bearings as he looked at the unfamiliar décor, before suddenly realising where he was… Elijah's spare room. A sense of unbridled relief washed over him as his mind recalled the previous day. He had left Mark. Dominic had come round and taken him away, told him he wasn't going back, not ever. The implications of this had been buried the previous night as his friends had taken it upon themselves to comfort and amuse Orlando for the whole night. Pizzas and videos had been heavily consumed the previous evening. No mention of Mark had been made. For one night, Orlando tried to forget about Mark, that his heart was ripped or his body still ached. He was Orlando that night.

It was only now that the true implications of his actions occurred to him. He'd left his boyfriend, run away from Mark. He had done the one thing he promised he would never do; he had abandoned Mark. A suddenly sickness welled up within him at the prospect of Mark but he squelched it down. A selfish part of him rejoiced at his freedom, that he didn't have to face the day with a searing pain or a throbbing body from Mark's desires. It hadn't mattered to his lover whether his attentions were desired or not. Dredged up memories of previous abuses and tender moments would frequently replay themselves intermingled, and now to be without those, he felt strangely…lost.

There was no feeling of hot breath on his neck, no arms wrapped around him. He missed that, the feeling of another lying next to him. A part of him raged at that sentiment, it felt as if he was betraying his friends by wishing to awaken back in those arms, and
yet to have left Mark was betraying his lover. It seemed no matter what he did he was wronging someone. His only desire, deep down, was to be free - free from an irate boyfriend and worried friends, or pushy journalists. He was aware the press was commenting on the `strains' of his relationship, of the speculations over Mark's fidelity/temper/supposed drug habit or his own exhaustion/ bulimia/ bruises. He didn't know what was going to be done about Mark. He never wanted to leave Mark but Dominic's words were true. Things had been steadily going out of control for well over a year now. Orlando couldn't brush off Mark's abuse as accidents or `one offs'.The injuries had become more serious, more difficult to hide. They'd needed stitches or hospital attention and the combination of Elijah and Dominic along with the constant pain had been enough to finally crack Orlando, and he'd left, and he hated himself for it. He wanted to hate Mark, but he couldn't, not yet.

Yet along with the sorrow came relief. To be able to wake up and not worry over whether he was going to be greeted with a kiss or a
slap was…relieving. For now, he was safe from Mark, from theoutside world. With Dom and Elijah, he could be himself. They
wouldn't care if he fell apart. He didn't have to justify his actions to them or act a certain way. They didn't demand `proofs' from him, they were just there for him, and for that alone Orlando would carry on. He would carry on for his friends, he owed them that much. A soft knock on the door made Orlando unconsciously tense up for a moment before Dom popped his head round the door. The tension drained out of his body as he offered a tentative smile. Orlando drew his legs up slightly as Dominic sat down on the bed as he turned his gaze on Orlando. "How you feeling mate?"

"I'm O-" began Orlando, and then closed his eyes as a painful realisation came over him. He wasn't OK. He wasn't fine or happy
and he didn't want to smile and pretend, not anymore. "I hurt" he admitted in a whispered tone. Dom felt a prickling behind his
eyes. It was the first time Orlando had actually admitted that. To not see the haunting, empty smile was as much of a relief as it was to see Orlando laugh. While it hurt him to see his friend in such obvious pain, a part of him knew that this sort of pain was the kind that would make him get better. "Hey Orlando, wanna grab some breakfast? Lij's got pancakes; surely even you can't turn them down?" The tone was wheedling, lighter and Orlando couldn't stop a smile spreading across his face. It's been a long time since he'd had pancakes, or really a breakfast at all. He had got into the habit of feeling nauseous when he awoke. "I think pancakes sound good" he admitted and at Dom's insistence he followed his friend down the stairs, to be greeted by a harried looking Elijah in the kitchen letting out a string of expletives, some of which Orlando was positive belonged in Star Trek.

"Bloody fucking stove, who invented these bastards?!! Why won't the fucking thing light Goddamnit?!" he demanded, as he aimed an ill- advised kick against the cooker, causing yet another string of curses and a severely pained expression. Dominic chuckled slightly as he patted Elijah on the head. "Don't get your knickers in a twist, you need to turn the switch on. No power no oven, strange I know, but that's the twisted world we live in," he offered. Elijah glowered and turned away muttering darkly, his face a suspicious tone of red as he poured the batter mixture into the pans (naturally it was ready-made, being Lij's house). Elijah had long ago accepted cooking wasn't his strong suit and seemed a little too comfortable with relying on friends, specifically Orlando and take-aways for his nutritional in-take.

Orlando watched in detached amusement as his friends silently fought over the size of the pancakes, chocolate vs. maple syrup or most importantly, who was clearing up. It was really rather remarkable how at certain times, especially when food was involved, their respective ages seemed to devolve to around toddler-age. As it turned out, Orlando was given the biggest portion at both men's insistence. "Y'know we've got to get you to eat more, fatten you up. I swear I can see your ribs through that shirt" Elijah, helpfully pointed out and Orlando felt himself flush. Perhaps he was looking thinner, more tired but really when you spent your life trying to avoid the next punch or figure out what film wouldn't land you with a swift kick, food generally took a back seat. "Not that it matters or anything." Elijah quickly added at Dom's withering glare. "Anyway…what are we doing today? I vote for slobbing around"

"You always slob around" Dom pointed out, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, but we have Orlando to slob with, so consequently it's justified"
"Actually I need to…sort some things out…" Orlando's voice was quiet, unsure as he looked between his friends. "If it means going back, forget it." Dom's tone was unwavering as a frown spread across his face. "But I have to get things…I need to leave a note or
something I can't just aban-"
"Yes you can!" cried Elijah, all joking gone from his tone. "You don't owe him anything – love, loyalty or explanations. He's lost
any rights; the last thing he deserves is your sympathy! We need to make sure you're safe OK, and that means you have to stay here, where someone can check on you-"
"'Check on me', don't you mean keep me under lock and key? I don't need a babysitter Elijah! Don't you trust me or something?!" The anger in Orlando's voice took them all by surprise. Seeing his friend's surprised faces Orlando felt terrible. Why did he say that? They were trying to help, how could he yell at them? That was how Mark had started, just yelling. The thought that he could so suddenly lose his temper frightened him. Was he becoming like Mark? The idea made his insides freeze.

To his amazement, Elijah placed a comforting hand on his cheek, understanding shone clear within the bright blue depths of his eyes. His shame only deepened with the complete lack of censure he received. How many other friends would stand by him for so long, offer such unconditional support; support which in truth he desperately needed. Was he *trying* to drive them away?

"I…I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell…I just…I didn't mean it" he whispered, shame flaming on his face. He found himself wrapped tightly in Elijah's embrace. "Hey, no apologies necessary. Don't ever blame yourself, OK? I trust you, we both do, there's no question about that. What I don't trust is that son of a bitch not to hurt you if you went round without us. Orlando, I can't let anything happen to you. Remember we promised to look out for each other?" his voice became a whisper, as he pulled away slightly, looking intently at his friend.

"But what about you guys? If Mark finds you…he…he…I can't let either of you be hurt because of me" Orlando felt himself shake slightly as random thoughts invaded his head, remembered threats of Mark's suddenly came to the forefront of his mind and became scarily real. "Anymore than we can let him hurt you. We'll be careful OK, we'll plan, don't worry about us Orlando, promise me" Dom begged, his hand gently squeezing Orlando's shoulder.

Looking up, as the doorbell suddenly rang, Dom shot up to answer it, fully intending to send the caller quickly on their way. While normally Dominic would have enjoyed a social call, now was most definitely not the time and Dom just wasn't in the mood for company. All his energies were fixated on Orlando and he didn't want to lose focus until he was sure he would be all right.

Hearing the bell ring again Dom prickled. He didn't appreciate being harangued. Surely they could wait a few seconds. Deliberately slowing his movements he slowly opened the door. His face flashed white before changing to a darker colour in a few seconds. "What the hell do you want?" he hissed, unwilling to believe the figure standing before him. Of all the people here, now it had to be him. Of course he'd have come here. How could he be so stupid? Pushing any self-chastisement aside in an effort to rid the unwanted presence from the doorstop before Orlando discovered him.

"Where. Is. He?" demanded Mark, his face darkened with immense fury. It also appeared that he hadn't slept the previous night.
Not that Dom cared in the least. It appeared that Mark had difficulty sleeping without his `precious punch-bag'. Too bad,
there was no way that Dom would ever let Mark get near his friend. "I don't know. I haven't seen him since Tuesday" he ground out, eyes never leaving this Creature in front of him. Mark didn't deserve to be human. No one human could so willingly hurt another, of that Dom was adamant. "You're not wanted here, so just do everyone a favour and piss off" despite his fierce tone, Dominic felt himself shake inside. He hoped it was due to anger, but being with someone as… unpredictable as Mark, it would unnerve anyone.

Mark had developed a chilling habit of looking right through people, and Dominic's harsh words didn't seem to perturb him in the least. Most people would have believed Dominic, the man was a good liar and the unblinking eyes, intent stare and sheer venom behind the words would've been enough. But Mark wasn't anybody. He knew people, could read them like a book. He could see past the darkened eyes and into the guarded stance, how the eyes flickered briefly, the ultra-rigid posture, too unnatural. He also knew that Orlando's friends would shift heaven and earth to help their friend should they feel the need. Perhaps it was time he tested exactly the strength of that theory. He had to wonder what Orlando would be like without his precious little bodyguards. It annoyed him to no end that *Lij* and *Dom* (God they sounded like a couple of teenagers) seemed unable to leave Orlando for two minutes without the little bastards interfering. What he wouldn't have given to chuck the two little asses out of Orlando's life. Contrary to what they might think, they weren't great friends. He could see their envy, that Orlando had someone, that he was loved. They didn't like sharing their precious Elf (yes they still called him that) with anyone who didn't meet their specifications and Mark would be damned if he'd let Tweedldee and Tweedledum dictate Orlando's love life.

"You're lying. He's here" Mark's voice was more of a hiss, and yet remained eerily calm. Dom repressed the urge to shudder. He saw the fire, the insane glint in his eyes whenever Orlando's name was mentioned. There was no doubt in his mind that if Orlando stayed with Mark it would end in death. Orlando's death. Mark couldn't cope with Orlando's affection for others; the idea of even the most platonic friendship threatened him. "Look if you don't get off my property I'm gonna call the police, and they'll slap a restraining order on your arse. If you ever come near Orlando again-" "You'll what? Call the police? Sweep Orlando off to a fairytale land? Newsflash Dominic, there is no fairytale land. The world is harsh and Orlando knows that, at least he does now."

Dom felt his hand twitch, to hear Orlando's suffering mocked, belittling it; it was all he could do to hold himself in check. "Now do yourself a favour and go get Orlando before I get him myself and burn your house down". Before either man could speak again the kitchen door opened as Orlando practically ran out, followed by a moaning Elijah, who appeared to have a large amount syrup smeared over his favourite (limited edition no less!) Star Wars t-shirt, and muttering something about `death threats' and `sacrilege'. Holding a spoon in his hand, Orlando was grinning like a maniac as he reached out to sling his arm around his friend. "Hey Dom, what's taking so…long?" Orlando trailed off, moving back slightly at the sight that greeted him. He found his heartbeat increasing as his throat contracted. Unconsciously he wrapped his arms around his waist. "Mark" he whispered, mentally
shaking himself as he tried to choke down his fear. "What are you doing here?" Elijah found himself moving closer to Orlando, offering silent support, but Orlando's eyes were glued to Mark, following a small smile playing around his lips. His panic rose,his breathing shortened. Every fibre of his being was yelling athim to run away, but he found to his own disgust he was frozen, gazing at the face, into the eyes that had caused him such pain, such misery. Arms that had both hit and held him. "Orlando? Come out, please? I want to see you" Mark's voice was like silk over his senses. A gentle, enticing tone, quite unlike the tone he'd heard a day ago, and Orlando felt himself tremble even more at the soft tone.

"Well, he doesn't want to see you" Dom butted in, putting no small amount of pressure on Mark's chest, forcing him backwards. "I don't want to see you again. Not around here or anywhere near Orlando. Understand? Comprende?" Dominic's words didn't seem to register with Mark, as he looked straight past him into Orlando's chocolate orbs. Orlando was sure he would've buckled under the gaze, if Elijah hadn't been quietly lending his support, both physical and mental and he felt himself involuntarily move back.

"Orlando? Sweetheart, is this true?" Mark's tone was quiet and pleading. Orlando wanted nothing more than to cry. To promise he'd
never leave Mark, to forgive him for all the pain he'd caused, but something kept him rooted to the spot. Elijah's eyes
narrowed. "You don't have any right to speak to him you bastard.Piss off!" he wasn't going to fall for the `sad puppy' look, he'd seen that look too often. He'd seen how Orlando had reacted, and it infuriated him that Mark could affect him so deeply. A part of Elijah wanted to shake Orlando, yell at him `what are you doing, why are you letting him win?!' but he couldn't. Orlando had had enough fury and accusations to last this lifetime and the next. Moving forward slightly reinforced the physical barrier that Dominic was creating, Elijah stood, silent, shielding Orlando. Despite the barrier, Mark moved forward slightly. "Orlando, please don't do this, don't hide, I just want to talk I promise, I'll only take five minutes. *Please*." If only Orlando would come out everything would be alright. He just wanted Orlando back, why couldn't his lover see that? To be without Orlando an entire day and night waswrong. He couldn't sleep without Orlando's warmth, he couldn'treally do anything without Orlando. There was something addictive,intoxicating about this man, even Elijah could see that.

Ever since they'd got together, three years and a half years ago Orlando had always been there, and to find his beautiful lover gone… it was a shock. He knew he had hurt Orlando, not always treated him with the proper care he deserved, but this last day had been the most painful of his life. When he'd discovered Orlando was gone he'd raged at whatever he could think of. How could they take Orlando away? Deprive him of the only person who could make him feel peace. No one else had ever held him like Orlando, even when his lover cried he still held him, who else was so loyal, so forgiving? Mark wouldn't allow himself to lose the only worthwhile thing in his life. "Please come out, I want tell you I'm sorry. Please? Orlando…Orli?"

As Orlando moved forward slightly, Mark looked at his lover and he felt a twist in his heart. The bruising around his jaw had swollen, taking on a garish purple. The cut along the brow had been stitched up yet still looked frighteningly vivid. He'd caused these injuries, harmed his beautiful god. He couldn't fathom how he could hurt his lover, he could remember the blind rages but now, there was calm and a deep, bitter regret. "Orlando, I'm so sorry sweetheart. I didn't mean to…I didn't mean-" his voice held none of the certainty of before, it was cracked, broken.

"To do this?" came Elijah's grating voice, interrupting Mark's visual assessment of Orlando. Elijah's hand brushed over Orlando's
injuries and Mark immediately felt himself bristle. Only he should comfort Orlando, touch him like that. "This is what you did, what your anger did. If you cared you wouldn't have done it, so don't you dare try to apologise. I hope you had a good look because the next time you see him will be in court" the midget hissed. "I'm not leaving until I hear Orlando say that he wants me to leave. He can speak him himself; he doesn't need a couple of retarded protectors." Before Elijah could retort the barb, Mark turned to Orlando, as he moved forward, pushing past Dominic's `barrier.'

"Orlando, you know I didn't mean it. I never wanted to hurt you…you know that don't you? I know I hurt you before and I'll never forgive myself, but I need you back Orli please? I can't live without you, you know that" he moved closer to Orlando, gently reaching over to touch the bruise, and Orlando flinched at the touch. Mark frowned and pulled back his hand slightly. "I promise
I'll never do it again. Just come back, I want to take care of you, like you do with me."

"Bullshit!" Dominic snarled as he grabbed Mark's arm, yanking him back from Orlando. "You don't give a fuck about Orlando. Look at what you've done to him you arsehole!! Do you ever think Orlando will trust you again? You don't know the meaning of `sorry' - you keeping doing it!"
"You better shut up Dom, you don't understand anything about my feelings for Orlando. Tell him, Orlando, tell him you love tha that you understand" Mark urged, a trace of desperation clear. All eyes fell on Orlando, his cheeks burned and he desperately wanted to run away. He couldn't do this, didn't want to be here. "I…I can't. Just please…go" he whispered, not looking at Mark. The silence was deafe as as the grip on Dom's arm loosened, a look of absolute disbelief played across Mark's features. "What?"

"I need you to go Mark. Please I can't do this right now. If you love me, please…just go" the voice was slightly stronger this time, as Orlando dared to glance up and immediately wished he hadn't. It was impossible to describe the emotions, which flickered across
Mark's eyes in those few seconds. "You heard Orlando, so fuck off!" growled Elijah as he moved to Orlando, intent on propelling his friend away from the door, but to his horror, Orlando slowly moved forward. "Mark? Please listen to me. I can't come back, not yet. I love you, I really do, but I can't, not right now. You need to get help, I want to help you, please let me?" Orlando tried to make his voice soothing. Slowly Mark's attention focused solely on Orlando. "How can you say that?! I need you back Orlando, you know that! Why won't you just come home where you belong? Forget them, they don't understand, not like you do. Please Orlando, I can't do anything without you. I *love* you"

"Orlando don't listen. Remember what happened, he'll keep hitting you, he won't stop. You don't need him." He knew Elijah was right, that he couldn't go back, but seeing Mark's face, the lost confusion…

"Stay out of this!" Mark snarled "It's not your business!"
"It is when Orlando can barely walk because of you!" Dominic shot back. "He's our friend, you hurt him, it becomes our business" that was from Elijah. "He's a whore you idiots! You really think he even cares about either of you?!" Mark demanded, before he turned his rage on Orlando, roughly grabbing his face. "You think if you screwed them they'd stick around? That they'll still want you when they find out what you are?" the voice was hard and unforgiving. Orlando was disgusted when he felt himself move back slightly "How long did it take for you to spread your pretty thighs last night? An hour? Five minutes?"

"If you call him a whore again, I'll smash your face in" threatened Dominic, a low tone in his voice, so unusual that both Elijah and Orlando almost did a double take. This wasn't Dom or his face…not their easy-going Sblomie (for the life of him, Elijah still couldn't figure out how Orlando came up with that name)…the fury was indescribable. "See what you do to people Orlando? What you always do. You make people get hurt Orlando, make them hurt, come back with me Orlando. Make it safe for everyone"

"No." the voice was quiet, yet with underlying steel to it. Orlando wasn't sure where that came from, but he found himself looking up into Mark's face. He could still recall how Mark had caressed him after bruises had formed, how he'd pulled Orlando against his chest, whispered words of love in his ear. Perhaps Mark did love him, but the obsession, the anger it was too much. "I want you to go, now. I don't want you around anymore Mark. I don't want you to hurt me anymore."

"Hurt you?! This is always about you isn't it? How *you're* suffering, do you ever think of anyone but yourself?! What do you know about pain? You're not the first person to be dumped, whycan't you let it go?? Your perfect Mortensen is *gone* Orlando! He doesn't want you, he *never* wanted you. Do you think he would've given you a second chance, or a fifth? He wanted an on-set fuck- toy, he got it and moved on. I want you. I need you, why can't you see that?!" This time the voice held a hard edge. When Orlando didn't respond, was unable to respond, Mark felt something snap. Orlando belonged to him!

Before either Dominic or Elijah could stop him, Mark grabbed Orlando's shoulder and yanked him forwards, his fingers digging into his shoulder, almost crushing his collar-bone. Orlando's pained gasp brought attention to the new turn of events. "You're coming home with me. Now." Mark snarled, all patience having run out. "Mark stop p-please. You're…hurting me!" Despite the pain he wa, Or, Orlando desperately tried to focus on his surroundings, if he could just make sure Elijah and Dom were safe, then maybe he could try to calm Mark down, although judging from his expression that wasn't going to happen. He still couldn't grasp how quickly things had disintegrated, that just half an hour ago he'd been thinking that perhaps things could change. He should've known Mark would find him. He'd been naïve and stupid and now his friends could be killed because of that, and Orlando would rather suffer all the torments of hell than have their deaths on his conscience.

"Let him go you arsehole!" Dominic's voice carried through the hall, which suddenly seemed to develop an echo as his eyes widened in horror. Although he knew of the abuse, had seen the aftermath, but seeing was quite another. He'd never seen Mark attack Orlando, hurl insults yes but the physical violence had always been kept behind closed doors. He felt sick, sick that his friend had been forced into this position. Even now he knew that's Mark's grip would leave bruises. "Maybe he needs it! Will it make you stop whoring around? Did you sleep with them last night? Orli spreads his legs and everyone rushes to protect him, to love him, I know what you do with your co-stars, your friends... Did you pretend to love them? Did you?!" Orlando tried not to wince at the fury punctuating each accusation.

"Orlando's not a whore! He never cheated on you, though God knows why-" Elijah ground out, as he reached out to his friend. Mark suddenly released Orlando's shoulder, but before he could relax, Elijah felt a punishing grip on his own wrist. In his shock, he
didn't even cry out. "You don't need to do that. I just want Orlando back then I'll happily leave" Mark's voice came over cold
and distant. As the sensations of pain flooded into his nerves, Elijah had to bite his lips to stop himself crying out. The grip was excruciating. To know that Orlando had put up with so much worse… it was sickening. All at once, he gained a whole new admiration for Orlando while feeling his heart shatter into a million pieces. How had Orlando done it? Stood by this monster? Horrified at Mark's actions, Dominic immediately darted forward. "Let go you bloody bastard, you'll break his fucking hand!" Dominic's anguished cries broke Orlando's heart. This was all his fault. He should've known this would happen. If he'd never left Mark, this wouldn't be happening. "He'll be fine if you shut up and let me get Orlando. Trust me as soon as I get him back I'll be happy to leave"

"Orlando's. Not. Going. With. You" Elijah ground out. "He's not your possession. You think this is going to win him back? Crushing my hand?" snorted Elijah as he winced through the pain. He couldn't let Orlando see how much it was hurting because with the pain, Mark would have too much leverage. "Orlando will come back because he understands. Unlike you Orlando actually does have some brains beneath the pretty face." Orlando watched the scene unfold with a detached sense of horror, as if watching someone else's life unravel. Mark was threatening his friends, he was hurting Elijah. As if he'd suddenly been woken from a daydream he moved forward. "Mark! Let Elijah go, please. You're hurting him! Don't do this." If he injected just the right amount of pleading, hopefully Mark would let go.

Turning to his lover, Mark's eyes appeared somehow both cold and fiery. "Are you coming back?" The question was low, expectant. He knew how this would play out; Orlando's loyalty knew no bounds and his sentime str streak would not allow anyone to be hurt if it was in his power to prevent it. A part of him relished the anguish on Orlando's face, the pain on Elijah's. He knew Elijah and Dominic were making Orlando pull away from him. It was their fault Orlando got so scared around him. He told Orlando he didn't mean it and he still wouldn't believe him.

Just what did Oro wao want from him?! His life's blood? Because slowly, Orlando was driving him insane, teasing him with his
beautiful face, his delectable body, the smile which seemed to be for everyone, reminding him that although Mark might have his body, he never had his soul. Mark wanted to possess Orlando, to own everything and when Orlando wouldn't give it him, he couldn't cope. It made him hit Orlando, made him hurt this beautiful creature and he hated it, hated hurting Orlando, for making him hurtlandlando. "Mark…just let Elijah go? Please Mark!" The begging in Orlando's voice was unmistakeable. He was sure he saw something akin to victory gleaming in those eyes. The eyes he'd learned tolove then hate. He knew no one else who could be so cold, so ruthless yet utterly dependant and it scared him.

Dominic was practically spitting with fury as he reached for the phone, intent on bringing an end to this madness. He'd sleep a lot
safer knowing Mark was enjoying life in a cell. "You call the police and I'll snap your friend's wrist, trust me it's easy enough."
"Try doing that with a couple of restraining orders on your ass" Elijah bit off, refusing to be intimated into silence. "You think the police care about an abused faggot? There's a lot I can do before they even get here. Do you want that Orlando? To have your friends hurt because of your selfishness? You know I'll still win, and I'll make it hurt even more when you do come back, you know I
will."

"Stop it. Mark let him go, you win" Orlando's voice seemed to carry across the entire room. There was a tiredness in the voice that none had ever heard. "You got your wish, I'm come back with you, but only if you don't hurt them."
"I don't think you're in a position to make bargains my darling."
"Put it this way, if you let Elijah go, and don't harm either of them again, I'll come willingly. Nlicelice, just me, and I won't leave again. You have my word." His voice seemed stronger than before. Ironic that the only time he could stand up to Mark was when his friends were threatened. The quiet voice seemed to sooth Mark somewhat, as he cocked his head slightly, seeming to consider
and finally realising Elijah's hand. The young man massaged his wrist and Dominic turned a critical eye to the badly bruised wrist,
as he gently checked it, seemingly satisfied it wasn't broken he turned his attention to Mark. He stepped in front of the man who he hated more than anything. The vaguely triumphant gleam in his eyes made Dom want to punch him, but Orlando had been through too much, violence wouldn't help, not in the end. It still didn't quench his blazing hatred. "You won't get away with this. He'll never love you again, you haven't won!"

"Au contraire, he will." The voice was soft but grated over Dominic like jagged glass because it is not in his nature to do
otherwise. "Unlike you, I understand Orlando. He was born to love people, to follow them. He'll love me because I can protect him, because I'll never leave him, because that's what he truly fears – being abandoned. For all your professed knowledge of your friend, I know him better than anyone. He loves me for that too." The voice was now quiet again, all the rage seemingly having been repressed. It was genial, almost philosophical.

Neither Elijah nor Dominic could say anything, because, in part, Mark was right. Orlando would never leave Mark again because of
them – because Mark had threatened them and he valued their safety. Once Orlando's word had been given it was an unbreakable promise, his loyalty knew no bounds, Mark knew that toe wae was willing to sacrifice his own safety for them. Elijah couldn't stop the tears running down his cheeks. "Don't cry, I'll be OK, I promise" whispered Orlando, his own eyes tearing. They both knew it was a lie. Mark would make him suffer for this, of that everyone was certain. Slowly Orlando moved towards Mark, his head hanging down,
despair radiating out of every pore. Despite Dominic's earlier words they all knew Mark had won. "Orli, please don't" Elijah whispered in a last ditch attempt, as he stroked his friend's arm, giving some attempt at comfort, but he was simply met with a brief shake of his head. "I have to Lij. I have to keep you two safe" `At risk of your own life?! It's a two-way thing protection' Elijah wanted to shout but stayed silent.

Without waiting for any more replies, Mark skilfully steered Orlando out the door. "Don't worry, you'll still be able to see him" Mark offered, in a mocking comfort. "After all he needs his bodyguards, and we don't want people thinking there's anything wrong with your precious Orli now do we?" He leaned in conspiratorially to Dominic. "Oh and a word of warning, call the police, or anyone else, and I'll make sure Orlando really can't walk, that's a promise." Neither replied as Mark pushed Orlando into the car. Nor did either man missed the tears trickling down his cheeks; a twisting of their stomachs grew as they watched their friend drive off, and away from safety…

*** End flashback ***


Elijah shook his head, clearing the memories of that terrible morning. No he wouldn't allow that to happen again, because this
time Viggo was here, and when it came to him, no amount of Mark's threats could hold any sway over his friend. Now Orlando would have something…someone to truly give him hope. Mark had succeeded before because there was no other alternative, that wasn't the case anymore. Despite his anger towards Viggo, he knew that the man truly loved Orlando, and would fight to keep him. To make him safe and happy. If nothing else, Viggo was a man who learned from his mistakes, and really, that was all anyone could hope for at the moment. Love, for his favourite lovebirds would be a ways off, he was aware of that. Re-connecting was needed first, after practically four years of non-and-miscommunication was no easy task. They were both different yet the same.

Glancing back he was gratified to see an empty bowl and a slightly more relaxed Orlando. Ahhh, the healing properties of soup. While Orlando needed to reconnect with Viggo, the same was true of his friends; Elijah himself had felt distanced to Orlando for the past six months. He understood why of course, but it didn't ease the hurt. All he'd wanted to do was help, and Orlando (whether unconsciously or not) had been pushing him away, to protect him. As he remembered that fateful day, he found himself in awe of the sacrifice Orlando had made for them, to ensure their safety with his own pain. That Orlando would essentially lay down his life for them was remarkable, but purely Orlando. Mark had been right about one thing that day – Orlando was born to love. It was not in the man's nature to hate people, even when he should.

Of course, it wasn't just Elijah and Dom he'd disconnected from. Everyone had fallen under Mark's eye…even Orlando's mum, sister Samantha and Bast – Orlando's own *family* were cut off, anyone who could pull Orlando away. There was no doubt in Elijah's mind that had Beanie been around he would've immediately picked up on what was going on, as would both Eric and Johnny – all three men seemed to have a built-in radar to danger (or a `shit filter' as Eric had once succinctly defined it as), as well as an innate urge to protect Orlando.

Hell, Beanie would have even risked life and limb to immediately fly over if he'd known what was going on. But he didn't, no one did. They were left with their own worries and suspicions. Billy, Liv, Ian too had eventually been deemed threats and were slowly cut off, isolating Orlando and increasing Mark's control. Everyone who might've stopped Mark before he started, that could've protected Orlando had been skilfully pushed out; those were the people Orlando needed back, people who loved him, for himself.

"Orlando, I know you probably don't believe me right now, but we'll get through this Orli. It'll take time, but we'll do it together.
You, me, Dom…Viggo" he added tentatively. At that, Orlando's head shot up. "Viggo? I thought he's back in LA now, anyway he only came because Dom asked him." "Not true. I hate admitting this, but he loves you Orli. Always has, he said…he said he wanted to make amends, he wants you back in his life Orlando – but it's up to you how much, just think about it Orlando, don't shut him out Orli" he advised, sounding suspiciously wise for his years. Before Oro coo could formulate a coherent reply, the phone rang. With an
expression of apology, Elijah padded into his room to answer it, hoping it would be Dom or Viggo. He needed to speak with them.

"Hello Elijah Wood speaking…"
"Hello my dear Mr Wood" a raspy voice came the other end and Elijah's eyes crinkled up in laughter.
"How are you, Sebastian?"
"Please, I do believe we're old friends, Bast never Sebastian. I still curse my dear beloved mother for giving me such an awful name. My darling Erika's been badgering me to check on my beloved cousin for the past few months, of which I have been terribly remiss about. I'm starting to believe she's actually fond of him. How is he anyway? Any broken bones I should know about?"

Elijah didn't reply at first, and felt himself involuntarily wince at Bast's cheerful words. Noticing the unusual silence, Bast was
immediately on alert, Elijah Wood as sweet as he was, was (Bast was almost certain) physically incapable of remaining silent. "Is
something up with Orli?"
"Yeah. He's…he's been going through something…bad."
"Bad…how bad? C'mon Elijah I need some more details here."
"*Really* bad, I don't even know where to start, there's about four years worth…probably more of crap Orli's has to deal with"
"Give me the condensed version" he offered. Elijah let out a small sigh before he began to relate the past four years to Bast, as he prayed that Orli's cousin would have some answers he desperately needed


TBC in ch 10