Loser
Author: Raine
Paring: implied Craig Parker/Orlando Bloom; implied Harry Sinclair/Orlando Bloom; eventually Viggo Mortensen/Sean Bean/Orlando Bloom
Rating: R - NC-17
Summary: Orlando gets fucked over by a sadistic person, can his two friends help heal him?
Authors Notes: The song Loser by 3 Doors Down inspired this. Angst, implied rape, OM/FC's, and hopefully a happy ending.
Disclaimer: Don't own them, don't claim to. Don't know their true sexual orentation, and don't claim to. Just borrowed them for my twisted mind to play with. :) Also, I'm not a doctor, and I don't claim to be one.
Breathe in right away,
Nothing seems to fill this place
I need this every time,
Take your lies get off my case
Someday I will find a love
That flows through me like this
This will fall away,
this will fall away
You're getting closer to pushing me
Off of life's little edge
Cause I'm a loser
And sooner or later
You know I'll be dead
You're getting closer,
You're holding the rope,
I'm taking the fall
Cause I'm a loser, I'm a loser, yeah
This is getting old,
I can't break these chains that I hold
My body's growing cold,
There's nothin left of this mind
Or my soul
Addiction needs a pacifier,
The buzz of this poison is taking me higher
This will fall away,
This will fall away
You're getting closer, to pushing me
Off of life's little edge
Cause I'm a loser and sooner or later
You know I'll be dead
You're getting closer,
You're holding the rope and
I'm taking the fall
Cause I'm a loser
You're getting closer, to pushing me
Off of life's little edge
Cause I'm a loser and sooner or later
You know I'll be dead
You're getting closer,
You're holding the rope
And I'm taking the fall
Cause I'm a loser
The night was dark, damp, and dank, like the creepy basements that everyone puts into horror flicks. They always go into them, while the audience screams for the idiots to stay away. A faint laugh, on the night air. Yes, this was perfect, only no one is screaming for him not to go there.
He walks along the street, a cigarette dangling from his lips, his slender frame hunched against the cold wind. Pulling his leather jacket closed tighter around him, hands burrowed into the pockets. This normally happy-go-lucky person, or the person he appeared to be was lost in a shroud of intense gloom. Would any of his friends recognize him now?
Taking a drag from his nearly forgotten cig, he stops, and peers across the street. How did he get here? Why did he walk here? This is the last place he wants to be. Breath catches in his throat, the smoke he had inhaled burning as it seeks for its release. Only then does he take a deep shuddering breath. His eyes automatically scan the parking lot, before tearing his gaze away, turning back the way he came. They wouldn't be here, and they wouldn't want to see him, even if they were.
Moving to cross a side street, lost in his own miserable thoughts, a dark cloud hanging over his head. A loud blaring horn pierces his deep musings. Glancing up, he mutters a soft curse, jumping back onto the sidewalk. Way to go, don't watch where you're bloody going. His dark eyes turn to watch the car he nearly walked in font of, speed by.
"Just bloody brilliant, nearly get yourself killed. Let everyone know what a screw-up you are. Like what they think isn't bad enough." His voice soft and guttural, as he berates himself.
Letting the spent cig fall to the pavement, he struggles to keep the mask he is so used to wearing, from slipping into place. They are not here, they are not watching your every little move again. No accusing eyes, no assumptions, no jokes, or cruel laughter. They humored him, through all of his antics. He provided the antics to keep them from who he truly was. He carried the reputation, the anger, frustration, and pain, with a mask of bouncy hyperness and sunny smiles. Oh yes, how everyone just loved Orlando.
Turning the corner, unaware of the eyes that followed him. Eyes that looked over the slender form worriedly. Eyes that saw how much weight he'd lost, how much of the spark of life his eyes held had faded, how he was lost in a haze of pain? The man followed silently, watching, trying to learn of Orli's destination, or at least the hotel he was staying in.
The man followed Orli that night, as the younger man wandered blindly around the city. Watching him struggle with inner demons, smoking cigarette after cigarette. Pausing in the shadows when Orli went to buy more, eyeing the bottle that he bought as well. Eventually, as it reached towards dawn, Orli found his hotel and his room, stumbling inside. The bottle long gone, the cigs nearly so. The man decided to wait to pay the younger man a visit, later in the evening.
*********************
Stumbling into his hotel room, he manages to close the door behind him, barely getting it locked. Sinking to the floor Orli, buries his face in his hands. His head ringing with all of the old accusations again.
"Our little Orli is a slut."
"Look at that smile, I wonder who he bedded last night."
"Ten Dollars, says he goes home with that blonde tonight."
"I've heard that sometimes he waits in the bathrooms of the club he's at, just looking for someone to blow. Sometimes up to twelve a night."
So many accusations, his head didn't have room for them all. They followed him, stuck with him, to the only relationship he ever had. What started out great, crumbled little by little, after every movie he shot. The rumors flew around, destroying everything, just because he couldn't lower his mask.
Reaching into the collar of his t-shirt, he pulls out the gold band he has on a chain, hidden there. Is this what it was like for Frodo, and the One Ring? Its weight so heavy to bear, tearing at your soul with every breath? Tearing at the fragile chain until it snapped, ignoring the cuts on his neck, throwing it as hard as he can.
The chain with the ring on it, bounced to a stop just by the edge of the bed. Orli forces himself to stand, tears slipping down his gaunt face, throwing himself across the bed. Heavy sobs tears at his body, his head buried in the lumpy pillow. When nothing more came, he fell into a heavy dreamless sleep.
********************
Waking with a start, Orli sits up slowly his head throbbing, and his back very stiff. Stretching slightly, he looks around in vague confusion. Where was he? Oh yeah, New Zealand. He came back. It didn't lessen the pain, nothing did. Why did he think it would help to come back here? Was he truly happier here? Fighting the sudden wave of nausea, Orli puts his head between his knees, ignoring his protesting back.
It passes, it always passes. Sitting up slowly he moves for the bathroom. When has he last eaten? A couple of days, perhaps? He lost track again, it don't really matter, he's not hungry any more. Making his way to the bathroom, he turns on the ice cold water. Stripping out of his wrinkled clothes, he steps in under the frigid spray.
Taking one of the mini bars of soap, he scrubs as quickly as he can, from his hair to his toes. Doing a quick rinse off, he steps out of the shower, turning off the cold water. Finding a towel nearby he wraps it around his hips, just as he hears the pounding of the door.
Door? Knocking? His brain is addled. He must still be asleep, but that water was cold enough. Stepping from the bathroom, he looks towards the door. No one knows he's here. He didn't tell a soul. Maybe it was a dream? No, there is the damnable knocking again. Reluctantly, Orli starts for the door.
Speaking softly, his voice hesitant, "Who's there?".
The deeply timbered, yet softly accented voice replies back, "Room Service".
"Room service? This hotel doesn't have room service. I know i didn't order any food." The confusion in his voice is apparent.
"Just open the door, Orlando."
That voice? NO, no one knows he's here. He has to be dreaming still. Fumbling with the lock, he opens the door. Haunted eyes widening, he backs away from the person standing on the other side, going very pale. "You're a dream, no one knows I'm here. Just a dream..." His voice fades, as the back of his legs hit the bed, and he sits down heavily.
********************
Viggo steps through the door, watching Orli, watching his every reaction. He looks worse than he thought last night. He's lost too much weight for his height. The haunted look in his eyes, shows just how much he's hurting inside. With a slight tilt of the head, he sees the gleam of gold out of the corner of his eye.
Moving closer to the bed, Viggo sets the fast food bag on the bed beside Orli. Seeing the cuts on his neck, he frowns deeply. Taking this time to look at what caught the corner of his eye, a ring on a broken chain. Well that explains the cuts. Looking down at Orlando's damp pale form, he takes on a commanding tone.
"Eat, Orli. You look as if a strong wind could blow you over. As for how I knew you were here, I saw you across the street from the old hangout. I saw you nearly step out in front of the car. I followed you until you came back here last night."
********************
Watching Viggo walk towards him, he flinches, wishing he could just get up and run from the room. Watching Viggo put the fast food bag on the bed, and another wave of nausea hits him. Forcing his head between his legs, he gives a bare shake of the head.
"I'm not hungry, Viggo. Take it away, before it makes me sick. You followed me? What gives you the right to follow me? I didn't ask for anyone to bloody tag along on my walk."
Viggo shakes his head, listening to the weak but hostile voice coming from Orlando, frowning again. "You need to eat. That's why you feel so sick. If you would like something different, I can take you somewhere to eat. Those are your two choices, eat what I brought, or we go out."
Walking back over to the hotel door, he kicks it shut, crossing his arms over his chest. Viggo watches Orlando with that impassive gaze he's adopted, waiting for a response.
"Leave me alone, I don't want any company right now. I don't recall inviting you inside." He feels so weak, so very weak, so tired and worn out. He just wants to sleep forever, deep in a dreamless world. Nothing touching him ever again, nothing that will make him feel.
Viggo ignores Orli's small rant, moving to the bag he sees on the floor. Opening it he begins digging inside. Journal, an envelope full of pictures, and ahh, his clothes. Pulling out a pair of jeans and t-shirt, he stands and starts walking towards Orlando.
Orli's eyes widen in shock, watching Viggo go through his stuff. "What in the hell do you think you're doing? That's my stuff, leave it alone! Viggo!"
Viggo just smirks faintly. "I told you either eat, or i'm taking you out to eat. I don't think you want to go in just a towel do you? I could just carry you out like that."
"Sod off, Vig," was all he managed to get out before the t-shirt was forcibly yanked over his head. He tried to struggle, but in his half-starved state was no match for the larger man. An arm forced into a sleeve here, the other arm soon following, shirt tugged down over his chest.
"Ow! Vig! That kind of hurts."
"If you would dress yourself, I would not be doing this, would I? Or if you would have eaten. Oh no, you wanted to do this the hard way, so we are."
Picking up one leg at a time, he begins sliding them in the legs of the jeans, working his feet through. "If you want other delicate things to remain pain free, I'd finish with your jeans. I'm not inclined to coddle you right now."
Lifting Orli up with one hand, and holding him, using his free hand to yank off the towel. Tossing it into a corner of the room, he waits patiently for Orli to start pulling up the jeans, and waits. With a faint growl he begins yanking them up, showing just how serious he was.
"OW! Bloody wanker, just let go!" Pushing at Vig's hands, he pulls up the jeans, closing them, and sinks back down onto the bed. That got Viggo to go away, he's not standing over him any more. No, he's still here, because boots don't fly over to someone on their own.
Stepping back from Orli, he finds the boots lying around, and throws them to the foot of the bed. Now, where is the leather jacket? Searching the room quickly he finds the pile it was left in near the door. Picking it up he throws it at Orli too, it landing draped over his head.
"Hurry up, I'm not waiting all night." Arms crossing over his chest again, that impassive gaze. So much like Aragorn right now. The tone in his voice, the looks he gives Orli, the commanding and over-bearing way he's acting. Sometimes acting roles do come in handy in the real world.
A few moments passed before Orli had his boots on, and struggled into his leather jacket. Those few moments stretched into fifteen then twenty. First he couldn't find the hotel key, which was on the floor near the door. Then it was him needing to make a run to the bathroom. Vig waited, but when Orli tried to come up with yet another excuse to make him wait longer, he had had enough.
Grabbing Orli by the arm, he drug him outside, taking the key and locking the hotel room. Dragging the smaller man to his Jeep, he waited until he got into the passengers seat, before going to the drivers. "Fasten your seat belt, Orli," the soft voice carrying the command in a way that Orli responded immediately.
Driving to a small restaurant, Vig parked, and got out, walking to stand in front of the Jeep. He will wait there for Orli to get out, or drag him out. Giving a satisfied smile as Orlando followed him inside.
The restaurant was homey, quiet, and not very busy at the current moment. They got a table in the corner, Orli sat with his back to the rest of the place. Vig sat in the corner where he could watch everyone as they came and went.
********************
A friendly waitress took our order. I think she had brown hair. I had to order for Orli. He didn't look at the menu, and he scowled at me when I ordered for him. Once she brought our coffee, I look towards him. "Orli." He doesn't look up at me.
"Orlando, look up at me." I actually bite my lip, while i wait. "Come on Orli," Softening my voice, watching him with concern.
He looks up slowly, his eyes never quite meeting mine. The shadows make his gaunt face, appear even more so. He's twisting the napkin beyond all recgonizion. He's going to do that silent broody thing. I hate the silent broody thing. I do it often enough to know.
"Orli!" Speaking sharper this time. He jumps a little, as if he's been slapped. "What's going on? Why haven't you been eating? I can see you're hurting." I soften my voice again, knowing I was deliberately being harsh. "What happened to you?"
Those dark brown eyes of his look nearly black now. They are mirroring all the pain that's eating at his soul. I can't stand to see a friend like this. I have to keep on my "Aragorn" face. It's the only way I'll be able to get through this.
"Or..." As I start to speak his name, he drops the napkin he's so violently mutilated. I stop, startled, watching him. He drops his head into his hands, fingers curling inwards toward his eyes. At first I think he's going to claw them, but then the sobbing starts. The heart breaking kind that makes anyone who hears them, hurt inside.
I'm out of my seat in a flash, wrapping my arms around his shoulders. I press his head into my stomach, just holding him, stroking his back softly. The sobs just wrack his body, his whole half-starved frame trembling against mine. He accepts the touch, but I don't know if he fully realizes it yet.
The Waitress brings our food, setting it down and leaving discreetly. It took me a few to notice. Orli's sobs are slowing, then stopping. Its been about fifteen or twenty minutes total. The food will be warm. I need to get him to eat something. Finally he pushes me away, embarrassed. I just give him a smile, and move back to my seat.
"Please eat?" I note he starts to protest again. "Please? For me?" My voice is soft again, filled with concern and worry.
His sigh is heavy, but he picks up a knife and fork. He eats slowly, I can tell he's not even tasting it. The food is good, but i've lost most of my appetite as well. He eats about half, that's probably more than he's ate in days. I'm content.
He's getting restless, nervously glancing around. I dig out my wallet. Catching the Waitress' eye, as I set out enough money to cover the bill, and to leave a fairly sizeable tip. I know she'll collect it before anyone can swipe it.
"Come on, lets get out of here." I stand, and he stands almost immediately, turning for the door. I note for the first time, he never took off his jacket. Following behind him, I ask quietly, "Do you want to go for a walk, or a drive, or do you want to just go back to the hotel?"
He faintly mumbles something about a drive. He walks quickly to the car, and sliding into the passenger seat. Fastening his seat belt, he waits for me to join him. Not that he has much choice in the matter. I slide into the drivers side, putting the key in the ignition. "Is there any place you'd like to go?"
Shaking his head, he stares out the window on the passengers side. He's silent again. I know he's upset with himself, and embarrassed about what happened. He needs this, needs to let this out. It won't be easy to get him to talk though. I've never seen this vibrant man, look so dead before. It's almost as if he doesn't care any more.
The drive is silent, takes about a half hour to get where I'm planning to go. I found this place while we were filming. It seemed so much a part of the set, but so far removed for the organized chaos of it all. Pulling into a small lot I shut off the Jeep, looking to the silent Orli.
"We're here."
The dark gaze, turns towards me. "Here, where?"
"Just a place I found to get away, while filming Lord of the Rings. Come on." Sliding out of the Jeep, I shut the door. I'm waiting for him again, but after a couple of moments he seems to start moving. He gets out of the Jeep slowly. Orli doesn't look very happy right now, but at least there is something showing on his face other than blankness.
********************
They walk in silence, always the silence. Its so much easier than double edged words, and mindless backstabbing. Always so much easier. Why is he pretending to care? No one cares about me. No one cares if I'm even alive.
I follow behind Vig silently, realizing I haven't had a Cigarette today. Patting his pockets, searching, frowning. They must have fallen out in the hotel room. Vig had better have some, or I'm turning around right now and walking back to my hotel. If I can figure out where we are. Why did he have to see me? Why did he have to follow me? Why in the bloody hell won't he just leave me alone? Stupid Wanker was always putting his nose where it didn't belong.
He made me cry. His stupid voice, and those eyes made me cry. Why does he pretend to care? Growling faintly, following Vig, his voice harsh. "Vig, you'd better have a cigarette on you, or I'm leaving."
He turns, he does look startled. I'm tempted to chuckle, but in the end I don't know if it would be worth it. I watch him pat his pockets, then turn back towards his Jeep. I stand there waiting, I'm not making this easy for him. He's humiliated me enough today.
I wait, watching. He finally finds a half crumpled pack and a disposable lighter. I have to smirk faintly at his desperate search. He obviously doesn't want me walking away. He walks quickly to bring them to me. I take one out and light it quickly, inhaling deeply, watching him. He starts towards the woods again, and I follow behind, not too close.
I'm so tired, so very very tired. I want to sleep forever, and hope I don't dream. Instead I'm following him, to God knows where. I just want to sleep.
He steps into this little glade. I suppose its pretty, it seems sorta peaceful. I don't know if I really care. He stops looking at me, he seems to be expecting something. Oh, right. "It looks nice, Vig. Very quiet and stuff." I slump down against a tree, staring off into space. I know whats coming.
********************
Vig turns to look at Orli again. He hears the words, knowing that's the best that can be mustered right now. He sits across from Orli, watching the tired young man. He doesn't say anything for now. He can bide his time, he's patient. Orli needs rest right now. This place is a good place to rest.
Almost as soon as Orli sat down, he was asleep. Vig expected this, Orli did not. He slept deep, and dreamless. Blue eyes watching him the entire time, studying how sleep seemed to erase the pain from the young man's face.
A couple hours later, the sleeping form started to slide over in a heap. Not wanting him to awaken Vig quickly moved and gently caught him, laying Orli's head against his thigh. Bringing one hand down, he began stroking the soft curls, stopping at any sign of him starting to awake.
Several hours later, as it was beginning to get dark, and the air starting to cool. Orli shivered and opened his eyes. He felt the hand on his head, noting his head was on a rather comfortable pillow. Not a pillow, a leg. A thigh to be exact. Lifting his sleep filled gaze slowly he saw Vig with his eyes closed.
Even with his eyes closed, Viggo's face still held all the worry for his friend. Orli could see it plainly now. Not pity, concern. All of his resolves snapped, he closed his eyes, and shuddered, tears forming again. He'd treated his friend badly. A soft sob tore at his throat. Burying his face into the warm thigh, he began crying again.
Viggo's eyes snapped open when he felt the shudder, then the sob came. Opening his eyes, he looked down at Orli, and buried his long fingers into the curls. "Orli?" It was the only thing he could think of to say.
Orlando kept his face buried in that thigh for a few moments. Once he had calmed down slightly, her turned his head, speaking very softly. "I'm sorry Vig, I've been a total brat. You just wanted to help, and I treated you like shit."
"Think nothing of it. I just wish you'd talk to me, Orli. I'm worried about you, and you seem to just want to push me away."
A heavy sigh, accompanied by a sniffle. "It hurts. Thinking about it, talking about it, dreaming about it, it all hurts. Everyone blamed me. I was the one who was hurt, and they all blamed me. I walked away, no one thought I would."
Even in the quiet wood, Vig, had to strain to hear the soft pain filled voice. Brushing his hand through the curls soothingly, he sighed as well. "You can tell me, you know. I hope you know I'm different than most," came the sad reply.
"I know Vig, I know. I'm sorry. I really am." Those sad eyes turned to look at him again. "Its getting cold, and I'm a little hungry."
"Then lets go, we'll get some food. We can go back to your hotel, or mine. If you want to talk, we can then."
A small nod was the reply, before both men stood and made their way back to the waiting Jeep. "This place really is nice, Vig."
********************
The trip back was silent again, but it seemed to pass quicker than before. They stopped at a McDonald's, because Orli wanted fries. Instead of going back to his hotel though, they made the trip to Viggo's. It was larger, had more space. Vig had an easel set up in front of a window. Paints, books, and cameras were strewn around.
Orli went to the bed and sat on the end of it, opening the bag, and digging out food, actually devouring it. Vig smiled, and sat down in a chair. Good, he needs to eat. Maybe he just needed to know he wasn't alone in the world.
"Why are you back in New Zealand, Vig?" The question came between bites of food.
"Painting and pictures. I'm inspired by this place, and its raw beauty. I had to come back for more pictures and to paint."
"I should have guessed," came the reply a couple of moments later. Though they were spoken with a small smile.
"I wish I had my camera tonight. I would have liked getting pictures of you, while you slept."
Orli looks up startled. "Didn't you torment us enough on the set Vig? You lurked around every corner, waiting for your next victim. You got one of me putting in the contacts for Legolas. Lij found it on the net, sent me the link."
Viggo started chuckling, not looking the least bit ashamed. "I couldn't help that one. You were so totally involved in putting them in, you didn't even see me."
"Shameless, utterly shameless. You wanker." Orli's voice was amused though, a slight glint in his eye. He began polishing off the food, cutting off the stream of conversation. Viggo on the other hand, just laughed.
Part2
