A Fresh Start II
Title : A Fresh Start II
Author : dalehead
Pairing : VigBean
Rating : NC-17: For adult themes of a non sexual kind
Summary: Sean is in mourning.
A/N : For readers of VigBean - this is all made up
A/N 2: There is death beneath the cut, but neither of the main protagonists.
This is for liars_dance because VigBean is her thing.
A couple of days later, Sean walked into the village, he posted his application form to the National Trust regional office, picked up some bits from the local shop and decided to have a pint or two before going home.
Viggo was standing at the bar, Sean was smiling as he came over.
“May I get you a drink?”
“Sean...” Viggo’s expression gave Sean a warm feeling. “Thank you, I’ll have a pint please.”
It was a fine evening, so they took their drinks out to the garden. Sean lit a cigarette.
“I’m trying to give up but …” He shrugged.
“Probably not the best time for that.” Viggo grinned. “I have the occasional one but I try to resist, though not always very successfully.”
“I won’t offer you one.” Sean laughed. “I said I’d give up the fags when he gave up the guns.” And for the first time, his eyes didn’t fill up.
“The first few months are the hardest they say...” Viggo said softly.
“You know that?”
“Yeah, if you don’t mind, I’d rather not talk about it.”
“Sure …” Sean knew he should have protested but he honestly felt like he couldn’t deal with anyone else’s grief, not right now. He had enough on his plate, just getting up in the morning took it nearly all his energy. Maybe Viggo got that. “Another time?”
“Yeah.” Again that beautiful smile. “When you’re feeling a lot stronger.”
They fell into silence. Sean couldn’t help thinking how easy it felt to be with Viggo. The moment the thought popped into his head, he felt guilty. Was it too early to be having a drink with another man. He frowned, lit another cigarette.
“Stop thinking so hard, Sean. Just enjoy the moment.” Viggo spoke softly.
“Am I that obvious?”
“Your brow furrows and you moisten your lip with the tip of your tongue.” Viggo lays his hand over Sean’s. “Whatever it is, you’re worried about I mean, let it go. You need to do this, relax, chew the fat. You’re not doing anything wrong.”
“How did you know? Christ, am I that obvious?”
“Not at all, just I’ve sat where you’re sitting and it won’t do any good fretting. It won’t bring them back, it won’t achieve anything if you live in a self imposed purdah for the next however many months.”
“You really have, been here I mean.”
So much for not talking about it but Sean finds he wants to know.
“Yeah. My lover died of cancer. The only good thing was that it was mercifully short. He was getting headaches, went to his optician who sent him straight to A&E* who gave him a scan. He had a massive brain tumour. Three weeks later...” Viggo closed his eyes. “Three weeks later he died in my arms.”
“I’m sorry.” It was Sean’s turn to speak softly, to move his hand so he could take Viggo’s.
“That was three years ago. So when I tell you time heals, I know what I’m talking about.” It sounded like Viggo was talking to someone else, someone not present.
“I’ve volunteered. To work at Roxwell Manor I mean.” It isn’t that Sean wanted to change the subject, just that he couldn’t bear to see the pain on Viggo’s face. He wondered whether he looked like that? So bleak, almost without hope.
Viggo’s face lit up and the lost look vanished.
“That’s fantastic, Sean. What are you hoping to do?”
“I love gardening, I was hoping to be able to help out with the heavy work, just labouring really. I need to fill my days but I don’t think I’m ready to go back to work full time.”
“What do you do?”
“I run motivational courses, for businesses, big and small.” Sean wondered if he could ever go back to it. “I used to drive all over, spent hours in the car …” He paused.
“But now?”
“Now I’m not sure I want to do that amount of travelling.” The moment the words were out of his mouth, Sean realised how little he wanted to go back on the road.
“In an idea world...” Viggo looked at him.
“Open a market garden. Grow vegetables, organically.” There was no hesitation. That had been their dream. Now Sean wasn’t sure if he could do it. But he desperately needed something to aspire to, something to think about it just before he went to sleep.
“That isn’t an impossible dream. Not right now of course, but in the future.”
“You might be right.” Sean acknowledged the truth of that remark. “When I can think more than one day ahead.” Even as he spoke, he saw the years stretching out before him, empty, lonely. It seemed too much for him to bear. Too much for anyone to bear.
“One day at a time.” Viggo agreed, picking up his pint. Sean watched as he swallowed, watched the way his adam’s apple bobbed. He dragged his eyes away. How could he go from raw and bereft to fascinated by another man in a couple of heartbeats.
He lowered his eyes, took a deep breath.
“How long do you think it will be before I can start at the Manor.”
“The Manor?”
“Isn’t that what they call it?” Sean blinked.
“Yeah, yeah it is, I was just surprised to hear you call it that.” Viggo smiled. “As to your question, quite soon I would think. We … they need to get the garden bedded down for the winter and it’s incredibly labour intensive … as you know.”
“God yeah, there’s loads to do and … and I need to have something to do, you know.”
“Look, I’ll give Tessa in the office a call tomorrow, see if I can hurry her up a bit.”
“Great, thanks Viggo, that’s really nice of you.”
“No worries...”
They finished their drinks and Viggo got up to go, he had things to do and Sean watched him go, sighing. He left the pub, nodding to a couple of the regulars. He was beginning to know people and be known by them, it was good.
He walked slowly home along the lane. A group of young lads cycled past at great speed, yelling at each other. They ignored Sean, too involved in their own doings to care about the sad faced man who they all knew had moved into Rose Cottage.
Invisible. That’s how he felt, like he was invisible. As he walked down his garden path, he knew the moment he stepped inside the cottage he would begin to cry. He opened the front door. Everything was just where he’d left it, the kitchen tap still dripping, the day’s paper strewn over the kitchen table.
Sean begun to cry. He was so angry, angry with his husband for dying, angry with himself for being so angry, lonely, so very, very lonely. He sat down on the stairs and gave in to the paroxysms of sobs that shook his body. When his head ached, when he was so cold he couldn’t think straight, only then did he go to bed. He knew tomorrow would be better, he was beginning to understand that for every few steps forward he took, there was inevitably one or two back. As he crawled under the covers, too exhausted to get undressed properly, he prayed this was a temporary blip.
The morning dawned and Sean got out of bed long enough to piss and take his clothes off, then he got back in again. Despite his best intentions, he just he couldn’t gather the energy to get up and face his demons.
He might have stayed in bed all day had not Viggo come a calling.
“Sean?” He called, letting himself in through the kitchen door which of course Sean had forgotten to lock in his agitated state of mind.
There was the thud of large feet on the stairs followed by Viggo.
“Sean?” He poked his head around the bedroom door. “You okay?”
“No.”
“Can I get you anything?”
“No.”
Viggo came in and sat down on the bed.
Sean was horribly aware of his nakedness.
“I spoke to Tessa earlier, she’s coming to Roxwell Manor today, she’ll be there about 3, if you’re up for it, she’d like to meet you.”
“What’s the point...” It was not a question. Sean’s eyes filled with tears. “I can’t do this.”
“I know you think you can’t but you can Sean, I know it’s hard, I know you feel like you’ve reached your lowest ebb but I promise you, if you allow yourself to heal, it will get better.
“I just can’t bear waiting for it to get better”
“But it will, I promise.”
“Promise? Vig do you really promise?”
Viggo’s smile was so sweet, so tender, Sean nearly started to cry again. “I do promise Sean.”
(tbc)
Author : dalehead
Pairing : VigBean
Rating : NC-17: For adult themes of a non sexual kind
Summary: Sean is in mourning.
A/N : For readers of VigBean - this is all made up
A/N 2: There is death beneath the cut, but neither of the main protagonists.
This is for liars_dance because VigBean is her thing.
A couple of days later, Sean walked into the village, he posted his application form to the National Trust regional office, picked up some bits from the local shop and decided to have a pint or two before going home.
Viggo was standing at the bar, Sean was smiling as he came over.
“May I get you a drink?”
“Sean...” Viggo’s expression gave Sean a warm feeling. “Thank you, I’ll have a pint please.”
It was a fine evening, so they took their drinks out to the garden. Sean lit a cigarette.
“I’m trying to give up but …” He shrugged.
“Probably not the best time for that.” Viggo grinned. “I have the occasional one but I try to resist, though not always very successfully.”
“I won’t offer you one.” Sean laughed. “I said I’d give up the fags when he gave up the guns.” And for the first time, his eyes didn’t fill up.
“The first few months are the hardest they say...” Viggo said softly.
“You know that?”
“Yeah, if you don’t mind, I’d rather not talk about it.”
“Sure …” Sean knew he should have protested but he honestly felt like he couldn’t deal with anyone else’s grief, not right now. He had enough on his plate, just getting up in the morning took it nearly all his energy. Maybe Viggo got that. “Another time?”
“Yeah.” Again that beautiful smile. “When you’re feeling a lot stronger.”
They fell into silence. Sean couldn’t help thinking how easy it felt to be with Viggo. The moment the thought popped into his head, he felt guilty. Was it too early to be having a drink with another man. He frowned, lit another cigarette.
“Stop thinking so hard, Sean. Just enjoy the moment.” Viggo spoke softly.
“Am I that obvious?”
“Your brow furrows and you moisten your lip with the tip of your tongue.” Viggo lays his hand over Sean’s. “Whatever it is, you’re worried about I mean, let it go. You need to do this, relax, chew the fat. You’re not doing anything wrong.”
“How did you know? Christ, am I that obvious?”
“Not at all, just I’ve sat where you’re sitting and it won’t do any good fretting. It won’t bring them back, it won’t achieve anything if you live in a self imposed purdah for the next however many months.”
“You really have, been here I mean.”
So much for not talking about it but Sean finds he wants to know.
“Yeah. My lover died of cancer. The only good thing was that it was mercifully short. He was getting headaches, went to his optician who sent him straight to A&E* who gave him a scan. He had a massive brain tumour. Three weeks later...” Viggo closed his eyes. “Three weeks later he died in my arms.”
“I’m sorry.” It was Sean’s turn to speak softly, to move his hand so he could take Viggo’s.
“That was three years ago. So when I tell you time heals, I know what I’m talking about.” It sounded like Viggo was talking to someone else, someone not present.
“I’ve volunteered. To work at Roxwell Manor I mean.” It isn’t that Sean wanted to change the subject, just that he couldn’t bear to see the pain on Viggo’s face. He wondered whether he looked like that? So bleak, almost without hope.
Viggo’s face lit up and the lost look vanished.
“That’s fantastic, Sean. What are you hoping to do?”
“I love gardening, I was hoping to be able to help out with the heavy work, just labouring really. I need to fill my days but I don’t think I’m ready to go back to work full time.”
“What do you do?”
“I run motivational courses, for businesses, big and small.” Sean wondered if he could ever go back to it. “I used to drive all over, spent hours in the car …” He paused.
“But now?”
“Now I’m not sure I want to do that amount of travelling.” The moment the words were out of his mouth, Sean realised how little he wanted to go back on the road.
“In an idea world...” Viggo looked at him.
“Open a market garden. Grow vegetables, organically.” There was no hesitation. That had been their dream. Now Sean wasn’t sure if he could do it. But he desperately needed something to aspire to, something to think about it just before he went to sleep.
“That isn’t an impossible dream. Not right now of course, but in the future.”
“You might be right.” Sean acknowledged the truth of that remark. “When I can think more than one day ahead.” Even as he spoke, he saw the years stretching out before him, empty, lonely. It seemed too much for him to bear. Too much for anyone to bear.
“One day at a time.” Viggo agreed, picking up his pint. Sean watched as he swallowed, watched the way his adam’s apple bobbed. He dragged his eyes away. How could he go from raw and bereft to fascinated by another man in a couple of heartbeats.
He lowered his eyes, took a deep breath.
“How long do you think it will be before I can start at the Manor.”
“The Manor?”
“Isn’t that what they call it?” Sean blinked.
“Yeah, yeah it is, I was just surprised to hear you call it that.” Viggo smiled. “As to your question, quite soon I would think. We … they need to get the garden bedded down for the winter and it’s incredibly labour intensive … as you know.”
“God yeah, there’s loads to do and … and I need to have something to do, you know.”
“Look, I’ll give Tessa in the office a call tomorrow, see if I can hurry her up a bit.”
“Great, thanks Viggo, that’s really nice of you.”
“No worries...”
They finished their drinks and Viggo got up to go, he had things to do and Sean watched him go, sighing. He left the pub, nodding to a couple of the regulars. He was beginning to know people and be known by them, it was good.
He walked slowly home along the lane. A group of young lads cycled past at great speed, yelling at each other. They ignored Sean, too involved in their own doings to care about the sad faced man who they all knew had moved into Rose Cottage.
Invisible. That’s how he felt, like he was invisible. As he walked down his garden path, he knew the moment he stepped inside the cottage he would begin to cry. He opened the front door. Everything was just where he’d left it, the kitchen tap still dripping, the day’s paper strewn over the kitchen table.
Sean begun to cry. He was so angry, angry with his husband for dying, angry with himself for being so angry, lonely, so very, very lonely. He sat down on the stairs and gave in to the paroxysms of sobs that shook his body. When his head ached, when he was so cold he couldn’t think straight, only then did he go to bed. He knew tomorrow would be better, he was beginning to understand that for every few steps forward he took, there was inevitably one or two back. As he crawled under the covers, too exhausted to get undressed properly, he prayed this was a temporary blip.
The morning dawned and Sean got out of bed long enough to piss and take his clothes off, then he got back in again. Despite his best intentions, he just he couldn’t gather the energy to get up and face his demons.
He might have stayed in bed all day had not Viggo come a calling.
“Sean?” He called, letting himself in through the kitchen door which of course Sean had forgotten to lock in his agitated state of mind.
There was the thud of large feet on the stairs followed by Viggo.
“Sean?” He poked his head around the bedroom door. “You okay?”
“No.”
“Can I get you anything?”
“No.”
Viggo came in and sat down on the bed.
Sean was horribly aware of his nakedness.
“I spoke to Tessa earlier, she’s coming to Roxwell Manor today, she’ll be there about 3, if you’re up for it, she’d like to meet you.”
“What’s the point...” It was not a question. Sean’s eyes filled with tears. “I can’t do this.”
“I know you think you can’t but you can Sean, I know it’s hard, I know you feel like you’ve reached your lowest ebb but I promise you, if you allow yourself to heal, it will get better.
“I just can’t bear waiting for it to get better”
“But it will, I promise.”
“Promise? Vig do you really promise?”
Viggo’s smile was so sweet, so tender, Sean nearly started to cry again. “I do promise Sean.”
(tbc)