Title: Even Angels Fall: To Crash, To Burn Author: Jo Rating: NC17 Pairing: Orlando Bloom/Viggo Mortensen Summary: When fame is overwhelming, even angels fall. Warnings: this one isn't going to be pretty...there's going to be language, violence, drug/alcohol abuse, and angst up the wazoo. If that ain't your thing, hit the delete button now Author's Notes: Inspired by "Let Her Cry" by Hootie & The Blowfish, lyrics have been tweaked here. MAJOR thanks to Wendy for emotional support, beta work, and research on this thing. Takes place roughly 1-2 years in the future. For Wendy for her 'inspiration' in matters of dialogue and nosebleeds and for Carnaline for the vision of angelic demons Disclaimers: They're not mine, I don't own them, this didn't happen...well, it could have, but they didn't tell me about it...any resemblance to real life events is strictly coincidental and no implications should be drawn because this is a work of FICTION I had just started to open the door when Sean's hand connected with the wooden panel at eye level and shut it again firmly. "You're not leaving," he said calmly. "Not like this." "Get out of my way, Sean." "No." I glared at him only to be met by his calm gaze. With his full weight leaning against the door, I couldn't open it. So I stood there. My mind raced as I remembered his slightly frantic tone moments earlier while he talked to Lij. Something was very wrong and that something involved Orlando. And whatever it was had apparently happened while I was in bed with Sean. Oh God.... A wave of guilt crashed over me and my knees buckled. "Don't pass out on me now, Viggo," he muttered, catching me before I could fall. He guided me to the couch, easing me down and kneeling in front of me. I noted, absently, that he had pulled on his jeans but hadn't bothered to button or zip them. And then I noticed that, in my hurry to leave, I had bothered with neither my shirt nor my shoes. That was when I realized I was shaking. "Sean, what --" I broke off. No idea what I wanted to ask. And even less idea of whether or not I wanted to know the answer. He sighed and dropped his head, rubbing his eyes with one hand before looking back up at me. "I won't lie to you, Viggo," he said softly. "Elijah is claiming that something...happened tonight. Now I don't know how much of what he said is true because Lij was pretty hysterical on the phone. But we both know what a good actor he is." He held up a hand when I opened my mouth. "I know what he told you the other night. And I know how badly you want to believe him. I'm not stupid, Viggo. I know you're still head over heels in love with that boy and you always will be. But even you have to admit that this could all be some perverse scheme they've cooked up to make you come running back. It's something Orlando would do." I started to speak and then stopped. I wanted to deny what he said but I couldn't. True, my Orlando wouldn't do something like that. He wouldn't deliberately manipulate me or anyone else he cared about. But for the past several months, he hadn't been my Orlando. I felt myself close to panic and struggled to breathe, to think. Fists clenched in my lap, eyes squeezed shut. "If you really want to go home," he continued quietly, "I'll drive you. But I'm not letting you go by yourself. You're too vulnerable right now." He was right. As much as I hated admitting it, he was right. The emotional turmoil of the past several weeks had combined with the soul shaking nightmare I had had earlier, and I had let the moment seduce me. And I couldn't even blame it on temporary insanity because I had known exactly what I was doing when I had pulled Sean into my bed. And, to really top everything off just right, it seemed that my poor, poor angel had done something while I was.... "Oh, God," I choked out as tears welled up again. "Sean...Orlando...." "Shhh, he's okay," Sean said, his hand stroking my hair soothingly. He knew what was going through my mind, the guilt that was so overwhelming I could hardly breathe. He had to know. "He's okay, Viggo. Lij was just overreacting, I'm sure. But...do you want to go check on him?" I nodded and Sean sighed. His eyes studied me for a moment and then he kissed me softly, his thumbs wiping away the tears. He stood and pulled me to my feet. Without saying anything, he wrapped his arms around me and held me tightly for a moment before letting go and stepping back. "Then let's get dressed," he said. "And I'll drive you home." I had no clear memory of the following minutes. I just knew that somehow we were in the car, fully dressed and bundled against the cold. He wouldn't tell me what Lij had said and he didn't speak as he drove. I wanted to shake him, to force him to tell me. But I just sat there staring out my window into the darkness as he concentrated on the road. Something was wrong. I could feel it. I didn't know how I knew, but I knew that the new year had started out much worse than the old one had ended. So cold. Numb inside again. The heater churned out warm air, but I couldn't feel it. And I couldn't stop my hands shaking. I tried to urge him to drive faster, but he just looked at me in that calm, maddening way he had and never varied his speed. I cursed him, calling him every name in the book in several languages, and his only response was to take my hand and hold it tightly with one of his. And then we were there. He had barely stopped the car when I was out the door and running across the yard. A single dim light burned in the living room window. Orlando's car was parked neatly in the driveway, but I barely noticed it. Every fiber of my being was focused on making it to the front door. Orlando. He was inside. And he was okay. He had to be. The knob was cold under my hand when I grabbed it and threw open the door. The sight that greeted me stopped me dead in my tracks and I stood there on the threshold, staring. "Oh, dear God," Sean said in a stunned voice. Behind me. I barely heard him. We both stood there, just looking at the scene inside my living room. + + + "It looks like a bomb went off," Sean said, his voice just above a whisper. He was right. I stepped slowly through the door and looked around, my eyes wide. Sean was a step behind me, moving at a slight angle so he could see. The living room was in shambles. And that was putting it mildly. The cushions that should have been on the couch and in the chairs were scattered across the floor. Several of them looked ripped and only half full of stuffing. The other half of the stuffing seemed to have vanished. One of the walls was covered by a floor to ceiling bookcase that was filled with books we had collected, framed photos, and various knick-knacks that we'd picked up here and there. Or it should have been. Most of the shelves were empty, their contents strewn around the room. Our combined movie and CD collection appeared to have been ripped out of the entertainment center and just thrown around. Clothes were in piles, trailing out into the hallway and, I assumed, up the stairs. A quick glance showed that at least some of the clothes were mine. "Christ, this...." I trailed off and looked around again. I couldn't believe the devastation. It did look like a bomb had exploded. Or a tornado had went through. Either way, it was bad. I could only imagine what the rest of the house looked like. Sean picked his way through the mess and froze as we heard a soft noise. That was when I realized Lij was sitting in the only chair that was still in one piece. He barely spared us a glance before returning his gaze to the corner. "What --" Sean said as I moved so that I could see. I was pretty sure we both saw him at the same time because I heard Sean gasp at the exact second I thought my heart stopped. Orlando sat huddled in the corner, his legs pulled up to his chest, one arm wrapped around his knees, the other curled over his head. His only covering, aside from a pair of boxers, were two gauze strips wrapped around his wrists. From where I stood, I could see he was shivering. It took me several minutes to figure out that the low, keening sound I heard was coming from him. I slowly approached him, one hand out hesitantly, my heart lodged in my throat. "Lij," Sean said softly, "What happened?" "He...he...." Lij's voice was odd sounding, but I didn't look at him. All my attention was focused on Orlando. "I thought it would be a good idea to take him out tonight. You know...to kinda get his mind off everything. I tried to get hold of him all day. Left a bunch of messages on the machine. When he didn't answer or call back, I started to get really worried so Dom and I came over here. All the lights were off and he didn't answer the door so I thought maybe he was off with someone else." I knelt beside Orlando, laying my hand lightly on his shoulder. He flinched away, not lifting his head, the keening sound changing to incoherent words. His body shook and he tried to curl up into a tighter ball. "Anyway," Lij continued, "Dom went out and I stuck around the house thinking that maybe Orlando would get home and give me a call. About two hours ago, he did call. He was talking all crazy and saying shit like his life wasn't worth anything and he'd fucked everything up but 2003 was gonna be a lot better for everyone because they wouldn't have to worry about him any longer. He was really scaring me. And then he...he said good-bye and hung up." I hadn't said anything at that point, just knelt there beside my angel, my hands in my lap as I watched him. Every so often he'd jerk and make that awful sound again. Slowly, so very slowly, I reached up and touched his hair, brushing the lank, dirty strands away from the side of his face. He didn't pull away, but he didn't look at me either. With his hair back, I could see that his eyes were open but unfocused and blood smeared his cheek. More blood covered his arms and upper thighs. His lips moved soundlessly and then that keening sound, like an animal in pain. I wondered what he was seeing and tried not to panic at the sight of the dried blood on his pale skin. "I got really scared then," Lij said just loud enough to be heard. "It was like...like he was saying good-bye forever or something. So I came over here. Probably broke every speed law in the country, too. When I got here, the front door was partially open and it looked like this. He didn't answer me when I called him and I started looking for him. I found him in the...in the bathroom and he...he...." "Shhh," Sean murmured. "Take a couple deep breaths, Lij. Calm down." "He was sitting on the floor, leaning up against the tub, and there was...was bl-blood everywhere," Lij choked out. He was crying. "It was...was.... There was a knife beside him and it was fucking awful in there. I thought he was d-dead at first and th-then he opened his eyes and l-looked at me and t-told m-me to g-go 'way and let him d-d-die. I couldn't d-do that because it would've k-killed Viggo and...and so I cl-cleaned him up some and wrapped his wrists really t-tight and th-then he kinda freaked out and started yelling and shit and acting crazy and h-he shoved me out of the way and ran d-down here. He was s-sitting right there like that when I got down here and he wouldn't say anything, not even when I talked to him. I tried to t-touch him b-but he started sc-screaming and c-curled up in a little b-ball and begging me not t-to hurt him. I didn't know what to do, so I c-called you because I kn-knew Viggo was with you and...and...." "Don't hurt me," Orlando whispered and I snapped my head back around to look at him. I hadn't even been aware that I'd taken my eyes off him. Orlando was still in a ball, arms tight around his knees and head, his eyes open and staring at his lap. I closed my eyes tightly and tried to swallow around the lump in my throat. Two hours ago, Lij had said. My poor, fragile, addicted angel was trying to kill himself while I was in bed with Sean. Another wave of guilt crashed over me, almost suffocating me with its intensity. It was a struggle to breathe, but I knew I had to keep myself under control. Orlando needed me and there was no way in hell I was going to abandon him again. "No, angel," I said very softly as my hand smoothed his hair. He trembled under my touch, trying to draw himself tighter. "No one is going to hurt you, I promise." "Viggo, we need to take him to the hospital," Sean said as he crouched beside me. "He needs to be checked." "Not like this," I said without looking away from Orlando. "He needs to be cleaned up and --" "He let me check him a few minutes before you got here," Lij said from over our heads. I hadn't heard him move. "The bleeding seems to have stopped and the cuts don't look like they're deep." Orlando lifted his head then and I had to force back a gasp. He had dark, dark circles under his eyes and blood was smeared all over his face, not just on the one cheek I had seen. And his eyes.... Those wonderful, expressive chocolate eyes that I could stare into for hours were clouded and hazed with pain and fear. His beautiful olive skin was pale and smudged with dirt underneath the blood. His mouth moved, but no words came out, and he stared at me as if he was looking at a ghost. "V-viggo?" His voice was soft and raspy, sounding as if his words were being dragged over coarse sandpaper. "I'm here, baby," I said, stroking his hair, moving slowly so I wouldn't scare him. "Is...is it r-really you?" One trembling, dirty hand reached out and touched my cheek. His fingers brushed my skin and I held myself perfectly still. "It's really me, Orli," I said softly as his hand moved over my face. "Viggo, I...I th-thought I'd l-los' y-you," he said in a small voice that broke as he talked. As I watched, tears gathered in the corners of his eyes and spilled over to roll down his face. "Th-thought I'd f-fucked everything up." "I'm home now, angel," I said, trying to remain calm as he very slowly started to unfold his body. "I'm home and I'm not going anywhere." He didn't say anything for a moment, just sat there with his fingers tracing the lines of my face. He stared at the blood covering his fingers and he whimpered softly. I just continued to stroke his hair and murmur softly to him, not daring to do anything more just yet. Then his eyes slid to Sean where he still crouched beside me. An odd look crossed Orlando's face and I bit my lip, praying that Sean's presence wouldn't send him into another fit of jealous rage. To my surprise, Orlando hesitantly reached out towards Sean with his other hand. "Sean," he whispered as Sean took his hand and held it and just watched him silently. Orlando's eyes returned to me. "Viggo, I...I...I think I n-need help." "Then we'll get you help," I said, sliding my hand down to rest on his shoulder as he closed his eyes. And then he was in my arms, one arm wrapped tightly around my neck, and I held him while he cried, his body shaking with the force of his sobs. Several minutes passed before I realized that his one hand still held Sean's tightly. And Sean -- who had been my rock for over two weeks -- didn't seem to mind because his other hand was gently rubbing Orlando's back. His eyes met mine and I was once again surprised when he just smiled faintly and shrugged. + + + I wasn't sure how much time passed as we sat there like that -- me holding Orlando in my arms and Sean holding his hand -- after his tears stopped. It seemed like an eternity. As Orlando lay limply against my chest, I met Sean's eyes over his head. That calm gaze regarded me for a moment and then he gently freed his hand from Orlando's. Another faint smile and his hand touched Orlando's hair lightly. Then he stood and looked down at us. "Why don't you take him and clean him up," Sean suggested softly. "Lij and I can pick up in here." I nodded and rose to my feet, pulling Orlando with me. He clung to me, keeping his head down, his hands tightly clutching my shirt. I whispered softly to him and almost missed the look that passed over Sean's face as he got his first good look at Orlando. It was...odd. A mixture of pain and disbelief and something else. It was gone so fast that I wasn't entirely sure I had saw it. "I...he was in the downstairs bathroom," Lij said softly. I just nodded and began to guide Orlando towards the hall. He went complacently. It hurt to see him like that, so very quiet and subdued. He let me lead him up the stairs without speaking. I had pulled him into our bedroom before I remembered that I had destroyed the bed after London. How could I have been so incredibly thoughtless and stupid to bring him in there? He stopped when I did, just standing there with his head down. I received another shock when I realized that someone had cleaned up the room. Not so much as a splinter of the bedframe remained. The mattress had been placed against one wall and all the pillows and bedclothes had been returned to their correct spots. It looked so normal lying there that I just stared at it stupidly. "I cleaned it up after I got home," Orlando whispered as he came up behind me, his hand sliding into mine. "I...I couldn't look at it because every time I did, it reminded me of how much you hate me now." "Oh, baby," I said as I turned to face him, pulling him into my arms. "I don't hate you. I could never hate you. I love you too much for that." His arms crept around my waist and he hugged me tightly. "I'm so sorry, Viggo," he whispered brokenly, his tears wetting my neck and shirt. "So, so sorry for everything I did." "Shhh," I murmured, my hands stroking his back gently. "It's okay now, angel. That's all behind us and we're going to make it all better, I promise. Now let's get you cleaned up, okay?" He nodded and let me lead him into the bathroom. I would have brought him up here even if Lij hadn't told me that the downstairs bathroom was the one he.... I shook my head, shoving that thought away, and turned to look at Orlando. I almost gasped. Rusty streaks of dried blood were smeared over his chest, stomach, arms, and legs. And he was dirty. But what bothered me the most was how thin he had become. Orlando had never had any spare fat on his frame, remaining slim, nicely muscled, and willowy no matter how much he ate. But in the stark light of the bathroom, I could see that his face was gaunt and his ribs were clearly defined beneath the skin of his torso. The boxers rode much lower on his hips than they should have. "Oh, angel," I whispered as I looked at him while he stood there, shifting his weight from foot to foot. "When's the last time you ate?" "Dunno," he mumbled with a tiny shrug, looking down again. "Well, let's clean you up," I said softly. "And then maybe we'll see about getting some food in you." I turned away and set about filling the tub with water. I was never more glad that I had had the bathroom remodeled and the garden tub put in than I was at that moment. It had seemed silly at first until Orlando had realized that we could both fit in there comfortably and still have plenty of room to move around. Once again, we were going to put the tub's size to good use. Testing the water temperature as the tub filled, I sighed quietly, remembering happier times. Then I faced him again and smiled reassuringly. He watched me uncertainly as I walked towards him. I smiled again as his bottom lip slipped between his teeth and he chewed on it. "Now," I said as I rested my hands on his hips. "It's time to get you in the tub and you can't do that wearing these." I kept my eyes locked with his as I knelt in front of him and eased the boxers down his long legs. One hand on my shoulder to steady himself, he stepped out of them and slid them across the floor with his foot. His hand trembled as he touched my cheek and he smiled when I leaned forward to place a soft kiss on the sun tattoo below his naval. That was the first time I had saw him smile in over two weeks. Standing, I pulled him forward, supporting him as he stepped into the tub. With a soft sigh, he sank down into the water and watched as I shed my clothes. Slipping in behind him, I pulled him back against my chest and held him for several minutes. "I love you, Viggo," he murmured. "I love you, too," I said as I gave him a tiny push. He obliged me and leaned forward, sitting patiently as I reached for the shampoo. With just a light touch on his shoulder from me, he slid further down into the water, leaning back until his head was fully submerged. Then he sat up again and leaned against me as I slowly and thoroughly shampooed his hair, letting my fingers glide through the silky strands, massaging his scalp as I worked. He made a happy little contented sound and sank beneath the water once more, shaking his head to rinse all the shampoo out. Taking care to keep his wrists out of the water, I soaped his body gently. The dirt and dried blood rinsed away, leaving clean, but pale, olive skin in its wake. He twisted around to face me, draping his legs over mine so that our bodies were close. Only then did I turn my attention to his wrists. Very carefully I unwrapped the gauze, taking my time in case the material was stuck to his wounds. I almost sighed in relief when it came free. Then I got a good look at his arms. The slash across the right wrist was fairly straight and I assumed he had did that one first. The one across his left wrist, though.... That one was more jagged, almost as if he couldn't hold the knife steady. Both had quit bleeding and seemed to be forming a light scab. "Orlando, why?" I asked softly. "Because I couldn't stand it anymore," he said as he watched me start to carefully clean his wrists. "You left and I tried so hard but I just couldn't seem to get things together and it was all so fucked up. I hated myself and I...I couldn't live without you and I thought that everyone would be better off without me around." I lifted my head and looked at him for a moment. "Do you really believe that?" I asked. "Do you honestly think I'd be better off watching them put you in the ground? Do you think that Lij or Ian or Sean would be happy if you were dead?" He shrugged, keeping his head down. "They wouldn't," I said, catching his chin and lifting his head gently. "And I'd die the day I found out you were dead." "I'm sorry," he said in that small voice. I watched as a tear slid down his cheek and then I pulled him into my arms, holding him tightly as he cried again. We sat like that for a long time, the water slowly cooling around us. Finally, I reached over and drained the tub, rinsing him again with clean water. He gave me a tremulous smile as I helped him out of the tub, and stood silently as I toweled him dry before wrapping him in a thick, warm robe. Still silent, he watched as I dried myself off and retrieved a pair of worn, faded jeans and a t-shirt from the bedroom. Dressed and barefoot, I returned to the bathroom to find him perched on the edge of the tub. Mutely, he held his wrists out. "I seem to have cut myself," he said with a faint, self-mocking smile. I laughed softly and ruffled his hair. "I see that," I said, pulling out clean gauze and antibiotic ointment. I could feel his eyes on me as I bandaged him up and sat back on my heels. "You're too good to me," he said when I was done. "It's a character flaw," I said, trying to lighten the mood. "Just ask Sean." He ducked his head, his fingers toying with the belt of his robe. Leaning towards him, I covered his hands with mine and kissed him when he looked up. "I love you," I said. Before he could speak, I pulled him to his feet. "Now let's go see about something to eat." Taking his hand, I led him out of the bathroom and back downstairs. And received yet another shock. While I had been cleaning Orlando, Sean and Lij had been cleaning the living room. It wasn't yet back to how it had been before London, but it was much better than it had been when I went upstairs. More lamps had been turned on and all the cushions had been returned to the furniture. "Sit," Sean said, walking out of the kitchen with a large mug. When we hesitated, he fixed us with a stern look and jerked his head towards the couch. "Sit. Now." He watched us calmly until we did as ordered. Orlando sat nervously on the edge of the couch, one hand plucking at his robe, the other holding mine tightly. His eyes were haunted, but he held his head up and didn't speak as Sean knelt in front of him. With a serious expression, Sean took the fidgeting hand and wrapped it around the mug, doing the same with the other when I released it. Orlando blinked and looked down at it with a tiny frown. "It's soup," Sean said softly as he brushed Orlando's cheek with his fingers. "You need to eat." I just watched, unable to think of a single thing to say. Orlando sniffed the soup suspiciously. "It's just vegetable soup from a can, Orli," Sean said with a soft laugh. I blinked. Sean had called him Orli. He hadn't used his nickname in over three years. "It's better if it's homemade, but I didn't have time. I didn't put anything in it." Orlando studied him for a moment and then, his eyes still on Sean's, lifted the mug to his mouth. He blew on the steaming liquid and took a sip. Then he took another. And another. Sean patted his knee and glanced up as Lij appeared with another mug, this one smaller, and a plate. "Toast and tea like you ordered," Lij said, handing his burden to Sean. "Eat," Sean said as he set the plate on Orlando's lap and the mug of tea within easy reach on the end table. "And drink." Lij vanished back into the kitchen and Sean settled himself on the floor at Orlando's feet, watching as he finished his soup and nibbled at the toast. Every so often, I'd feel Sean's eyes on me and look up to find him watching me with an inscrutable gaze. Neither of us spoke and he would always return his attention to Orlando. "I can't eat anything else," Orlando said softly, setting the partially eaten piece of toast back on the plate. "If I do, I'll be sick." "We don't want that," Sean said and took the plate and soup mug from him. "Finish your tea." Orlando nodded and cradled the mug to his chest, drinking it in small sips as he leaned against me. When he was done, Sean took the empty mug and went into the kitchen, leaving us alone. Orlando mumbled softly and twisted around, snuggling against me. "What was that?" "'m tired," he mumbled and then yawned. I smiled and kissed the top of his head as Sean reappeared. "Why don't you two go to bed?" Sean asked with a soft smile. "We'll finish up down here." That sounded like one of the best ideas I'd heard in a long time. Standing, I picked Orlando up, cradling him to me and mildly alarmed at how light he was. He just wrapped his arms around my shoulders and nuzzled the side of my neck. Back upstairs. I was beginning to think that was what a yo-yo felt like. Letting the robe fall to the floor, I placed him in the bed. His eyes were closed before I finished undressing, but he rolled towards me and wrapped himself around my body when I slipped under the covers. It felt odd to be so close to the floor, but I didn't mind. I buried my face in his hair and inhaled deeply, letting the warm, spicy Orlando-scent flood my lungs. I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I knew, Sean was kneeling by the mattress. "Wha--" "Relax," he whispered. "Downstairs is clean and I sent Lij home. The poor kid is a wreck." "Oh," I mumbled, rubbing my eyes. "I'm going to take off now," he said softly and started to stand. Before I could think, my hand shot out and wrapped around his forearm. "Don't go," I said, trying to see his face clearly in the darkness. "Viggo," he said, his voice sounding odd. "I don't think --" "Please, Sean," I said more urgently. "I...we need you." I could feel him studying me for a moment and then he muttered inaudibly. I held my breath as he moved away, and then I heard the unmistakable sound of his clothes hitting the floor. Orlando murmured in his sleep when Sean crawled onto the mattress, but I kissed him softly, pulling him closer. "Thank you," I whispered as Sean settled himself against Orlando's back, his arm going around both of us. "Don't thank me yet," Sean muttered. "Thank me after he wakes up in the morning and doesn't lose his mind to find me in the bed." + + + I opened my eyes to sunlight streaming through the curtains. Very odd. The way the light hit the walls and the position of the faint shadows was wrong. And the ceiling looked too far away as I blinked sleepily at it. I pushed myself up to one elbow and rubbed my eyes, looking around. Then everything came flooding back and I sat up straight, no longer asleep or even half asleep. "Orlando," I said, twisting to look. But he was no longer beside me. I had known that. Even in sleep, I was always aware of his warm presence in the bed, usually draped across my back or side. That presence was missing and the house was alarmingly silent. Sean still slept, arranged on his back with one arm flung over his head, the other resting on his stomach, mouth partially open, his chest moving slowly. Moving slowly, cautiously, so I wouldn't wake him, I slipped out of bed and grabbed my jeans. Orlando. I had to find him. Tugging a sweatshirt over my head, I left the bedroom. Cold inside. Where was he? After last night.... No. I refused to believe he would try that again. He asked for help, damn it. He did. He wouldn't. As I stepped into the living room, my eyes were drawn to the bay windows spanning the ocean side wall. There, down on the beach. My heart skipped a beat when I saw him, only returning to normal when I realized he was just sitting there on a rock. Still barefoot, I walked outside and slowly made my way down to the sand. Soft and slippery, the grains beneath my feet masked my approach. As I drew nearer, I saw that he had wrapped a blanket around his body, arranging himself so that only his bare feet and his head were exposed. He glanced at me when I sat beside him and then returned his eyes to the ocean. "It's beautiful," he said after several minutes. "And dangerous if you're not careful," I said. This sounded like a conversation we had had in New Zealand the day of the disasterous surfing trip that had resulted in a black eye for me. "Like me," he said softly, the wind tugging his words away almost before I heard them. I thought carefully about my next words. Something told me they were important. Critical. I didn't need a doctor or a counselor to tell me that Orlando was very fragile just then. Waking up sandwiched between me and Sean probably hadn't helped matters much, but it couldn't be changed. "Sometimes, yes," I said without looking at him. "But the ocean doesn't discriminate. You...you're dangerous mostly to yourself. Sure, the rest of us can be hurt by your words and actions, but it's a lingering hurt for the most part. What you're doing to yourself, angel, is deadly." He nodded. "I know," he said, looking down at his blanket covered lap. Then he lifted his head and looked back out over the water. "Viggo, I need help. I thought I could control it, but.... I can't. I keep telling myself just one more time and it will be the last time. And I...I can't stop." He was so vulnerable sounding that I wanted to take him in my arms and cuddle him until the world ended. Somehow, I didn't think that was the best idea at the time. So I slid my hands under my legs and just sat there. As I watched, one slim hand crept out from the under blanket and shoved his hair back from his face. The gauze stood out in glaring contrast against his smooth, olive skin. His eyes were still haunted, but they were clearer than I could recall seeing them in a long time. "I've been so horrible to you," he continued, still not looking at me. "I don't deserve you and I know that now. I can't change anything that I've did or said in the past, all I can do is apologize. I know that's not much and it doesn't make up for anything, but...." One shoulder lifted in a shrug, the graceful movement causing the blanket to slip enough for me to see the thin t-shirt he wore. "It's a start," I said, shifting so that I faced him, one leg pulled up beneath me. "The most important thing is that you've asked for help." He nodded again. "Right, that's the first step, isn't it?" His voice was quiet with only a hint of an edge to it. "The addict has to admit that he has a problem and ask for help." A soft, bitter laugh. "Hello, my name's Orlando Bloom and I'm an addict. And I did it to myself. I had everything. Fame, fortune, all that bullshit. But most importantly, I had you. And I fucked it all up." He looked at me then. I didn't speak. I could have, but some instinct told me he wasn't finished and that any words from me would send him back into his shell. So I sat there and watched him, the wind whipping my hair around into my face. That slim, graceful hand reached out and tucked the errant strands behind my ear, and he smiled wistfully. "Do you have any idea how much I love you?" He asked then. I just smiled. "I wanted to die when you walked out on me in London. I don't remember much that happened in the days right after that. I...I went on a binge. Even threw Lij and Dom out of the house once. Or twice. Don't really remember. I got your message Christmas day. I cried. I remember that. I curled up on the floor like a little baby and cried. I was," he paused and took a deep breath. "I was pathetic. And last night I just...I guess I'd had enough. New Year's Eve is supposed to be a time for new beginnings. Out with the old, in with the new, all that rubbish. I hated myself and couldn't live knowing you hated me, too. Couldn't live without you because you were the only thing holding me together. Maybe it was symbolic. Maybe it was just arrogance on my part. Whatever. I snorted a couple lines and decided to make my grand exit and leave you to Sean. Out with the old. Me. In with the new. Sean." I stared at him. Even if the time had been right for me to speak then, I wouldn't have been able to. I couldn't think of a single thing to say. Ironic. But then Orlando always had a knack for rendering me speechless. "I love you," he said, returning his gaze to the ocean. "But I do not deserve you. Sean, though...." There was that soft, faintly bitter laugh again. "He deserves you. And he would be so much better for you. Better than I could ever be. He loves you. I've known that for a long time and I was so jealous. I knew it was stupid, but I couldn't help it. I used to watch you and him together and see how easy you acted around each other, and I hated him. But I always knew how better suited he was for you. You're the same age, you've been through a lot of the same things. And me...I'm just some stupid kid who happened to get lucky enough to have you fall in love with me. We're so different, Viggo." "That's what makes us special, Orlando," I said softly. "Our differences are what make us work. I know a lot of people just see the fact that I'm old enough to be your father, but that's not who or what we are. I won't lie and tell you that I've never thought about it because I have. But it's not that important to me. What's important to me is that you're safe and happy. I love you." "But you want him," Orlando said a little sadly. He held up a hand when I would have spoken, then his fingers moved to rub his forehead. "Don't, Viggo. Don't lie and tell me that you don't. I'm not entirely stupid. I can see it when you look at him. Like you're wondering what it would be like. And yes, I'm insanely jealous of that. But drugs aren't the answer and I can't hide behind them anymore." He sighed and wrinkled his nose slightly. "You slept with him, didn't you?" I studied his profile for a moment. "Why do you say that?" "It's very rude to answer a question with a question," he said as he glanced at me again. "It was last night, wasn't it?" "Yes," I said very quietly. The time for lies and half-truths was over. He was being honest with me and with himself. And he deserved no less from me. "How did you know?" That little Orlando-smirk. So irritating. So adorable. So him. "I know what sex smells like, Viggo. And I was in the tub with you last night." "It wasn't for revenge, Orlando," I said. He tilted his head and watched me, hair ruffling in the breeze, lips curling in a small smile. "I know." He looked down at the bandage covering his wrist. "I wouldn't blame you if it was. Not after I slept with Lijah. I think I hated myself most for that. For betraying you like that. I love you so much." Another sigh. "What is it they say? If you love something, set it free, right? He loves you." "'They' don't know everything," I said quickly. Don't let him say it. Don't let him say what I knew he was thinking. "You want him," he said. So small and sad sounding. So vulnerable. "Stop it." Our heads snapped around. Sean stood there, a few feet away, his arms folded over his chest, a frown on his face. So quiet. Didn't hear him walk up. We were so absorbed in each other and the conversation. I wondered how much he had heard. "Stop it right now, Orlando," he repeated. "Sean," he said. I just sat there. It seemed to be my morning for sitting there and not speaking. Orlando rubbed the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. "How long have you been standing there?" "Long enough," Sean said, moving to stand in front of us. He looked considerably less than happy. To be honest, he looked pissed. But it wasn't the same anger I was used to seeing him exhibit towards Orlando. "Now there's a bloody brilliant answer," Orlando said, squinting up at Sean. "I should slap you silly," Sean said, arms still crossed over his chest. "How dare you presume to think you can just hand Viggo to me and then go off and be a little martyr? You arrogant little bastard." "I thought we established that a long time ago," Orlando muttered. "That I was an arrogant little bastard, I mean." He waved his hand and Sean gritted his teeth. At least I thought he did. "I'm trying to do the right thing here. Call it a sacrifice for all the shit I've done lately." "I don't want your bloody sacrifice," Sean snapped, grabbing Orlando's shoulders and shaking him. I wanted to cry. Last night, things had been so different. Why couldn't they just see each other like I saw them? It would make things so much.... My eyes widened as I watched at them. "Then what do you want, damn it?" Orlando's chin was tilted up in defiance and he refused to back down. "You, Viggo...I don't fucking know anymore," Sean said, all the anger draining out of his voice. Orlando's eyes grew wide and he stared up at Sean in shock. He wasn't the only one. A stiff gust of wind would have probably knocked me off the rock just then. "M-me?" Orlando said, his voice just above a whisper and filled with wonder. Sean sighed and ran a hand through his hair, crouching down in front of Orlando. "Viggo may want me, but he loves you. And, yes, I love him. I have for a very long time now. But I...I love you, too, you stupid little git," Sean said in a rush. "And there's no way I'd ever do anything to separate the two of you or come between you." My mind whirled as I tried to comprehend what he was saying. Orlando just looked shellshocked. Wide brown eyes stared into green ones for a long time with neither of them speaking. "You...you l-love me?" Orlando asked. He didn't seem to be doing any better than I was. Leave it to Sean to drop something like that in our laps. "Much to my eternal dismay, yes, I love you," Sean said with a quiet chuckle. "I fought it even harder than I did my feelings for Viggo. It hurt to see the two of you so happy together, but I was happy for you. Until I realized what you were doing. And then I was angry and frustrated and scared. You could have died last night, Orlando." "I know," Orlando said. So miserable sounding. I wanted to hug him. Instead, I just watched to see what would happen. "When Lij told me you had tried to kill yourself," Sean continued, reaching up to smooth Orlando's hair back, "My heart almost stopped. I had no idea how I was going to tell Viggo you were dead. And God knows I had no idea how I was going to be able to handle it. That was, without a doubt, the stupidest thing you have ever done." Orlando nodded, looking down at his hand where it lay in his lap. Sean covered it with one of his, glancing at me quickly and smiling faintly when I nodded. "Orlando," Sean said softly. "You need to go into rehab." Orlando's head popped up and he looked at Sean and then at me. Slowly, his eyes returned to Sean. "I can't," he whispered. "I'm not strong enough." "You are, angel," I said, my voice low and urgent. "You're one of the strongest people I know." He shook his head. "You are. Do you have any idea how much strength and courage it took to admit you've got a problem?" "He's right," Sean said, squeezing his hand reassuringly. "You can do this. You have to do this. For yourself." "But...I don't know," Orlando said softly. "I..." "You said it yourself," I reminded him. "Admitting you have a problem and asking for help is the first step. Believe in yourself, amado. We do." "I...." Orlando trailed off and hunched his shoulders. Then, slowly, he straightened up and looked at us with a wobbly smile. "Right. I got myself into this mess, now I have to get myself out of it. But...." His expression grew somber and a little frightened. "I don't think I can do it alone." "You don't have to," Sean said. He smiled. "We'll help you as much as we can." I nodded and reached out to touch his cheek, smiling when he turned into the caress. "That's right. And when it's all over with, we --" I glanced at Sean and he looked at me for a moment. Then he slowly nodded. "We'll be right here waiting for you to come home." "You mean that?" Orlando's eyes moved between us, his free hand creeping out from the blanket to curl around mine. "When it's over," Sean said, his voice so soft and serious. "We'll be here and then, when you're ready, you can decide where we go from there." I watched a tear trickle down Orlando's cheek and that was it. I couldn't restrain myself any longer. With a soft murmur, I pulled him into my arms and held him tightly, rocking him gently. Sean sat on his other side, rubbing his back and speaking quietly to him. A seagull cried mournfully overhead as Sean leaned in to kiss me before turning his head to place a soft kiss on Orlando's cheek. It wasn't going to be easy. In fact, it was probably going to be the hardest thing any of us had ever had to do. But somehow, I thought it was all going to be worth it. ~fin~