Til There Was You (7/7)
Title: Til There Was You
Author: legolas_is_mine
Beta: mesnica
Rating: NC17
Disclaimer: None of this is true, and I'm certainly not claiming it is. I made it all up in my brain. My very own brain.
Warnings: Violence, Mentions of (sexual) child abuse and religious fundamentalism.
Authors Note: Apologies to fans of Hugo and Ian, but I needed villains. Places and organisations appearing in this fics are purely fictional and not supposed to portray any real ones.
Sorry it's (a few hours only) late! I have the flu, have been asleep, and completely forgot that it was posting day. Also, my thanks to mesnica for posting this for me every week as I am too lazy to do it myself (plus, when I DO do it myself I make tons of mistakes and end up having to post about 60 times over *gg*)
Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Viggo was sitting at one of the long tables in the day centre when Orlando walked in, working on some papers amidst the organised chaos of the centre closing down for the night. Orlando walked up behind him and, feeling playful, put his hands over the other man’s eyes.
“Guess who,” he giggled into Viggo’s ear.
“I’d know that giggle anywhere, Orlando, don’t think you can fool me,” Viggo said, turning around to face the other man, and pulling him close for a brief kiss. Orlando smiled into Viggo’s lips before pulling back.
“Did you have fun shopping, sweetheart?” Viggo asked tenderly, stroking the side of Orlando’s face, brushing the hair back from his face.
“Yeah, I got some excellent t-shirts in the sale. Really good price!” Orlando enthused. “And I saw Elijah as well. We… we had a talk.”
“How did that go?” Viggo asked, knowing that Orlando had wanted to find out if Elijah was being abused in the same way that he had been.
“He’s… okay. Brainwashed, but okay. He didn’t believe me at first; I thought he was going to run off and get the exorcism squad on me, but luckily he saw sense. Then he had to go home, homework, you know. If it’s not finished on time, Hugo does his nut.”
“You know, it never fails to amaze me how terrible your language is, considering the way you were raised,” Viggo teased, pulling Orlando to sit down next to him.
“Ahh, shut up, old man,” Orlando retorted, cuddling up under Viggo’s arm and trying to peek at the papers in front of the other man, ignoring the yells of the kids running around him. “You wanted to talk to me?” he asked, wondering again what the older man wanted.
“Yeah, let’s go to my office, okay? It’s a bit too noisy out here right now,” Viggo suggested, standing up and pulling Orlando to his feet after him.
“I just sat down!” Orlando grumbled, getting up anyway and following Viggo to the small, slightly more private office.
“You can sit down in the office, love. And stop worrying, you haven’t done anything wrong,” Viggo murmured, reading the young man like an open book. Once they were both settled, Viggo relaxed in his chair, looking curiously at Orlando.
“I’m sure you know, ‘Lan, that I don’t usually stay in one place as long as I have here. Usually I just get the places running and then I set off to start up the next,” Viggo began. Orlando tensed up, sure that Viggo was about to tell him that he was leaving and dumping Orlando to boot.
“Well, I stayed longer here because… well, to be frank, Orli, I stayed because of you. You stumbled in here one day, and even though you were just a kid then, you caught my eye - more than that, I’m not some dirty old man like McKellan. You caught my heart, and there was no way I could leave you in that house and just go. Not when you opened up to me like you did.”
“Go on.” Orlando blushed, looking down at the floor with sudden interest, wondering what surprising words would emerge from Viggo’s mouth next.
“The thing is, Orli, it’s been a couple of years now, and I have to confess I’m getting itchy feet. I was thinking I might move on soon, the lease on the house is up next month, and I’m not looking to renew it.”
“You’re leaving?!” Orlando squealed. “Why are you leaving? Where will you go, and where will I stay? I can’t afford a place of my own!” Orlando got to his feet, staring wildly at Viggo.
“Orlando, sweetheart, listen to me,” Viggo reassured. “Yes, I want to move on, but I want you to come with me. If you want to, that is?” he asked, concernedly.
“You… you want me to come with you?” Orlando asked, not quite believing his ears. “But… where will we go?”
“Anywhere we want. Some other town where they have need of us,” Viggo said, shrugging his shoulders thoughtfully.
“Really anywhere?” Orlando asked. “Somewhere away from here? What would we do there?”
“Same thing we do here, set up a new shelter somewhere else. There’s a lot of people out there need helping,” Viggo pointed out, pulling out a map and pointing out nearby towns and cities.
“Could we maybe go somewhere a bit further away?” Orlando said thoughtfully. “Somewhere no-one knows me as a crazy, possessed son of a religious nutter?”
“That sounds like a really good idea.” Viggo agreed, pulling Orlando close to him. “Anywhere you fancy in particular or shall we just aim a pin at the map?”
“Well… when I was small, my dad always used to tell me about this place in Indiana that he used to live in. It always sounded kinda… idyllic to me, it’s pretty isolated and poor so I bet there’ll be lots of kids there. Lots of open space too, maybe we could have a farm or something? Instead of a shelter like this one, one that’s all outside and stuff?” Orlando offered, indicating the general location on the map, across the country from where they were now.
“A farm? Like what, cows and hens and stuff?” Viggo teased, pressing a soft kiss to Orlando’s elbow.
“Or horses. I always wanted a horse. Hugo said they were sinful,” Orlando said, with a wry grin on his face, sitting himself down on the older man’s lap. “I could never really figure that one out. How is a horse sinful? That’s crazy”
“That whole church is crazy, love. But we can get some horses if you want. It’s a lot of work though, Orlando. You know that, don’t you?” Viggo warned him.
“Do you know a lot about horses then?” Orlando asked curiously. He didn’t know much about Viggo’s life before he had taken up helping people.
“Yeah, we used to have horses where I grew up. Well, in some of the places. We moved around a lot when I was a kid. Must have stuck with me.” Viggo told him, nuzzling into Orlando’s neck and pressing more kisses to his soft skin.
“Stop it a minute, Vig. I want to talk seriously about this!” Orlando said mock-severely, although secretly he was enjoying the attention that his lover was paying to him. “Who’s going to run this place when we leave? It’s not going to just close, is it, after all the hard work you’ve put into it?”
“No, no, of course not.” Viggo reassured him. “Sean and Bernard will take over the running. I’ve already discussed it with them both.”
“You... you told them and not me?” Orlando asked, hurt that he was the last to find out about the move. He moved out of Viggo’s embrace, wrapping his arms defensively around himself.
Viggo immediately got to his feet and took Orlando into his arms, cursing himself for forgetting for a moment just how insecure the lad still was.
“Only hypothetically, love. If you wanted to stay then I would have stayed, too, but I wasn’t going to suggest leaving and then having to say sorry we have to stay here until we find someone to take over,” Viggo explained, rocking Orlando slightly in his arms, and sighed in relief when he felt Orlando relax.
“Well… alright then.” Orlando allowed that it was better that Viggo hadn’t made a promise that he would be unable to keep, even if it did mean him being kept in the dark. “So, when do we go?”
“Well, like I said, the lease on the house is up in six weeks, so I guess in six weeks.” Viggo finished with a grin.
Orlando smiled up at him, pulling him close for another kiss.
“Six weeks… I guess we’ve got a lot to do then…”
***********
Six weeks later…
Orlando was running around the Youth Shelter like a headless chicken. He and Viggo were supposed to be leaving for the airport in two hours, and he couldn’t find their plane tickets. Cursing under his breath, he pulled a pile of papers onto the floor, shouting in triumph as he came across the documents at last. Guiltily looking around the office at the mess he had made, Orlando wondered if he had time to clean it up among the million other jobs it seemed like he had to do today. He was leaving the office when he spotted a familiar figure entering through the door of the centre.
“Orlando!” that horrible voice called out.
”Why, Mr McKellan, this is a surprise,” Orlando said smoothly, shocking himself by not loosing his cool at the mere sight of the man who had hurt him so badly.
“I hear you’re off to new things, Orlando, and I wondered if I might just have a quick word before you go?” Ian McKellan asked, keeping his voice courteous and light, very much aware of the other people around them shooting him curious looks.
“Sure, why don’t you come into the office,” Orlando suggested, holding open the door he had just walked through and following Ian inside.
“Thank you, my boy,” Ian said, sitting down on the battered couch and motioning for Orlando to sit next to him. He frowned when Orlando pointedly chose a chair across the room, behind what had been his desk until this morning.
“I wanted to come and see you to make sure there were no hard feelings between us, Orlando. I know I was hard on you sometimes when you were under my care, but I only did it to help you, you know that, don’t you?” Ian said, looking pleasantly over at Orlando, who was looking back at him with an expression he generally reserved for cockroaches.
“No hard feelings?” Orlando asked, raising one delicate eyebrow expressively, a habit he had learned from his step-father, who could prophesy doom with only his eyebrows. “You mean am I going to tell the press about what you did to me, and how the church lets you carry on working with kids even though they know you’re a paedophile?”
”Don’t you dare call me that!” Ian was instantly on his feet, crossing the room to stand over Orlando in a threatening manner. “You’re a despicable boy and I never should have come here today. It was foolish to think that you might have changed for the better. You should be locked up, saying such awful things.”
“I should be locked up? After what you did to me, you have the cheek to say that I should be locked up? As it happens, I’m not planning to go to the police or the press, but only because it would make life difficult for my mum, and she doesn’t deserve that. I know what you lot are like, remember, Ian.”
“That’s Mr McKellan to you, young man,” Ian replied, all pretences at civility now gone.
“It’s really not, Ian. You can’t hurt me any more, and you better not hurt my mum or Elijah, because if I hear that you have - and I will hear, Ian, then I’ll go straight to the police and tell them everything. And I do mean everything,” Orlando said, a nasty smile playing on his lips.
“Oh, who’s going to believe a little punk like you?” Ian laughed, not a nice laugh, but one filled with hatred and malice.
“They’ll believe me alright, especially when I get the others to back me up, and the doctor to show them my medical records,” Orlando retorted, sneering at his erstwhile abuser. It wouldn’t do to let Ian know that he was bluffing about his medical records. Bernard had examined him for physical injuries that Hugo had bestowed on him, but Orlando had never told him about the rapes so he had never had reason to go looking for evidence.
Ian growled and lunged for him across the desk, making Orlando scramble backwards to prevent the man from reaching him.
“You can’t hurt me any more, Ian,” Orlando told him. “I’m not scared of you anymore. You might have tormented me when I was tied up and helpless, but you’re the one who should be scared now, scared of what I know, because I can - and will - make the rest of your life very miserable indeed.” It wasn’t like Orlando to take joy from the misery of others, but in Ian’s case he made an exception. The man was so repellent that he almost made Orlando sick to be standing so close to him now.
Orlando jumped backwards when one of Ian’s hands grabbed him around the throat. Reacting in a purely instinctive manner, he slammed one fist forwards straight into Ian’s nose, making the other man howl with pain and release him.
“Get out now, Ian, or I’ll do more than break your beak,” Orlando threatened, following him to the office door to make sure he didn’t linger inside the centre, whilst massaging his throat where Ian had grabbed hold of it. He was pretty sure he would have bruises; he had always bruised easily, much to Hugo’s chagrin. His step father had had to restrict his beatings to those areas of Orlando’s flesh that weren’t normally visible, although really it wouldn’t have mattered too much as the teachers at school were just as prone to chastise anyone who stepped out of line as Hugo was.
Picking up the tickets again, Orlando left the office for what he hoped was the final time, closing the door after him and letting it slam with an air of finality. He pushed his way through the crowds of young people all waiting to say goodbye to himself and Viggo, and made his way into Bernard’s examination room.
“Hey Bernie, can you just take a quick look at my neck for me?” Orlando asked, so much more relaxed now than when Viggo had brought him in that day, which seemed like an eternity ago, although in fact it was barely six months before. Bernard left the notes he was writing and came over to have a look at Orlando’s neck, wincing as he saw the handprint emblazoned in red on the young man’s fair skin.
“What the hell happened, Orli?” he asked, “It wasn’t Viggo, surely?” Bernard knew that Viggo would rather do anything than hurt his young lover. His friend had never been celibate so long than since he had started seeing Orlando, although he had confessed to Bernard that they weren’t completely lacking in passion, just that full sex was off the menu for now.
“That bastard McKellan came by to say goodbye,” Orlando told Bernard. “He grabbed me when I threatened to go to the police about him.”
“Really? Are you okay, Orli? Do you want someone to get Viggo?” Bernard fussed over the young man; he felt rather paternal towards him, and he knew that usually when Orlando was having a crisis, Viggo was the first person he would turn to for help.
“I’m fine. I punched him in the nose and told him I wasn’t scared of him anymore,” Orlando said, giggling at the shocked look on his doctor friend’s face. “I think I broke it for him…”
“That’s great, Orlando!” Bernard said, putting his hand over his mouth when he realised what he had said. “Let me take a look at your hand as well when I’ve finished with these, okay? Don’t want any damage to those fingers of yours, do we now? It wouldn’t do for you to start your new life all beaten up,” Bernard finished, his eyes twinkling with pleasure at how far Orlando had come since the first time they had met. The boy he had known four years before wouldn’t have dreamed of punching anyone, let alone someone so high in the church hierarchy.
Just as Bernard was wrapping Orlando’s knuckles, Viggo stuck his head around the door, slipping in and closing it behind himself when he saw who it was the doctor was treating.
“You taking up boxing, love?” Viggo asked, referring to the white bandage on Orlando’s hand.
“Only briefly.” Orlando grinned. “Ian came by, and I shared my feelings with him.”
“And he with you by the looks of things,” Viggo exclaimed, seeing the livid bruises on Orlando’s neck and hurrying across the room, tilting Orlando’s head this way and that to see how bad the bruising was.
“It’s really nothing, Viggo. Stop worrying. Don’t you have to leave soon?” Bernard asked, reassuring and chivvying Viggo at the same time. Handing Orlando a tube of arnica for his bruises, he hurried them both out the door.
All three of them were taken aback by the cheer that greeted them.
All the children and young people at the Youth Shelter that day had gathered in the main room, clapping and cheering as the three men emerged from the small room. Kyle, the young boy who had helped Orlando build many of the chairs that littered the day centre, was standing in front of everyone, holding a large box and looking extremely nervous and a little embarrassed.
“Uhm…” Kyle began, stepping forward and offering the box to Viggo and Orlando. “We just wanted to say that we’re going to miss you, and we all wish you good luck in your new life. We… we made this for you,” he finished in a rush, thrusting the box into Viggo’s hand and disappearing into the crowd of people.
Viggo pulled the ribbon off of the box and offered it to Orlando to take the lid off. The young man did so, revealing a beautiful hand made scrapbook. When they lifted it out, they found the book full of photos of the kids and the centre, along with messages of love and good wishes for the future. Touched by this show of affection, Orlando felt tears pricking his eyes and swallowed quickly, turning his head into Viggo’s shoulder to hide his emotions from the crowd.
Viggo was feeling none too steady himself, but he knew he had to say something to all the people there, who were waiting for a response to their gift.
“Guys… I just don’t know what to say. This is just amazing, thank you so much. You’ll excuse us if we don’t read the whole thing now, I know, but I think I can promise you that we’ll definitely be spending a lot of time looking at it when we arrive. Dr Hill and Dr Bean have our forwarding address, and you’d better believe we’ll be keeping in touch. It’s been a pleasure watching you all growing up, and I hope we’ll see you again someday,” Viggo finished, as Bernard tapped him on the shoulder, leaning forward to murmur in his ear that they really had to leave now if they wanted to check in on time.
Moving swiftly through a thin aisle that was forming for the purpose, the three men made their way out of the Youth Shelter, Viggo and Orlando shaking the hands of everyone they could reach on the way, and stopping to hug people every so often.
As the car began moving, Orlando twisted and waved goodbye to his old life, before turning to the front, ready to begin again.
THE END
Author: legolas_is_mine
Beta: mesnica
Rating: NC17
Disclaimer: None of this is true, and I'm certainly not claiming it is. I made it all up in my brain. My very own brain.
Warnings: Violence, Mentions of (sexual) child abuse and religious fundamentalism.
Authors Note: Apologies to fans of Hugo and Ian, but I needed villains. Places and organisations appearing in this fics are purely fictional and not supposed to portray any real ones.
Sorry it's (a few hours only) late! I have the flu, have been asleep, and completely forgot that it was posting day. Also, my thanks to mesnica for posting this for me every week as I am too lazy to do it myself (plus, when I DO do it myself I make tons of mistakes and end up having to post about 60 times over *gg*)
Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Viggo was sitting at one of the long tables in the day centre when Orlando walked in, working on some papers amidst the organised chaos of the centre closing down for the night. Orlando walked up behind him and, feeling playful, put his hands over the other man’s eyes.
“Guess who,” he giggled into Viggo’s ear.
“I’d know that giggle anywhere, Orlando, don’t think you can fool me,” Viggo said, turning around to face the other man, and pulling him close for a brief kiss. Orlando smiled into Viggo’s lips before pulling back.
“Did you have fun shopping, sweetheart?” Viggo asked tenderly, stroking the side of Orlando’s face, brushing the hair back from his face.
“Yeah, I got some excellent t-shirts in the sale. Really good price!” Orlando enthused. “And I saw Elijah as well. We… we had a talk.”
“How did that go?” Viggo asked, knowing that Orlando had wanted to find out if Elijah was being abused in the same way that he had been.
“He’s… okay. Brainwashed, but okay. He didn’t believe me at first; I thought he was going to run off and get the exorcism squad on me, but luckily he saw sense. Then he had to go home, homework, you know. If it’s not finished on time, Hugo does his nut.”
“You know, it never fails to amaze me how terrible your language is, considering the way you were raised,” Viggo teased, pulling Orlando to sit down next to him.
“Ahh, shut up, old man,” Orlando retorted, cuddling up under Viggo’s arm and trying to peek at the papers in front of the other man, ignoring the yells of the kids running around him. “You wanted to talk to me?” he asked, wondering again what the older man wanted.
“Yeah, let’s go to my office, okay? It’s a bit too noisy out here right now,” Viggo suggested, standing up and pulling Orlando to his feet after him.
“I just sat down!” Orlando grumbled, getting up anyway and following Viggo to the small, slightly more private office.
“You can sit down in the office, love. And stop worrying, you haven’t done anything wrong,” Viggo murmured, reading the young man like an open book. Once they were both settled, Viggo relaxed in his chair, looking curiously at Orlando.
“I’m sure you know, ‘Lan, that I don’t usually stay in one place as long as I have here. Usually I just get the places running and then I set off to start up the next,” Viggo began. Orlando tensed up, sure that Viggo was about to tell him that he was leaving and dumping Orlando to boot.
“Well, I stayed longer here because… well, to be frank, Orli, I stayed because of you. You stumbled in here one day, and even though you were just a kid then, you caught my eye - more than that, I’m not some dirty old man like McKellan. You caught my heart, and there was no way I could leave you in that house and just go. Not when you opened up to me like you did.”
“Go on.” Orlando blushed, looking down at the floor with sudden interest, wondering what surprising words would emerge from Viggo’s mouth next.
“The thing is, Orli, it’s been a couple of years now, and I have to confess I’m getting itchy feet. I was thinking I might move on soon, the lease on the house is up next month, and I’m not looking to renew it.”
“You’re leaving?!” Orlando squealed. “Why are you leaving? Where will you go, and where will I stay? I can’t afford a place of my own!” Orlando got to his feet, staring wildly at Viggo.
“Orlando, sweetheart, listen to me,” Viggo reassured. “Yes, I want to move on, but I want you to come with me. If you want to, that is?” he asked, concernedly.
“You… you want me to come with you?” Orlando asked, not quite believing his ears. “But… where will we go?”
“Anywhere we want. Some other town where they have need of us,” Viggo said, shrugging his shoulders thoughtfully.
“Really anywhere?” Orlando asked. “Somewhere away from here? What would we do there?”
“Same thing we do here, set up a new shelter somewhere else. There’s a lot of people out there need helping,” Viggo pointed out, pulling out a map and pointing out nearby towns and cities.
“Could we maybe go somewhere a bit further away?” Orlando said thoughtfully. “Somewhere no-one knows me as a crazy, possessed son of a religious nutter?”
“That sounds like a really good idea.” Viggo agreed, pulling Orlando close to him. “Anywhere you fancy in particular or shall we just aim a pin at the map?”
“Well… when I was small, my dad always used to tell me about this place in Indiana that he used to live in. It always sounded kinda… idyllic to me, it’s pretty isolated and poor so I bet there’ll be lots of kids there. Lots of open space too, maybe we could have a farm or something? Instead of a shelter like this one, one that’s all outside and stuff?” Orlando offered, indicating the general location on the map, across the country from where they were now.
“A farm? Like what, cows and hens and stuff?” Viggo teased, pressing a soft kiss to Orlando’s elbow.
“Or horses. I always wanted a horse. Hugo said they were sinful,” Orlando said, with a wry grin on his face, sitting himself down on the older man’s lap. “I could never really figure that one out. How is a horse sinful? That’s crazy”
“That whole church is crazy, love. But we can get some horses if you want. It’s a lot of work though, Orlando. You know that, don’t you?” Viggo warned him.
“Do you know a lot about horses then?” Orlando asked curiously. He didn’t know much about Viggo’s life before he had taken up helping people.
“Yeah, we used to have horses where I grew up. Well, in some of the places. We moved around a lot when I was a kid. Must have stuck with me.” Viggo told him, nuzzling into Orlando’s neck and pressing more kisses to his soft skin.
“Stop it a minute, Vig. I want to talk seriously about this!” Orlando said mock-severely, although secretly he was enjoying the attention that his lover was paying to him. “Who’s going to run this place when we leave? It’s not going to just close, is it, after all the hard work you’ve put into it?”
“No, no, of course not.” Viggo reassured him. “Sean and Bernard will take over the running. I’ve already discussed it with them both.”
“You... you told them and not me?” Orlando asked, hurt that he was the last to find out about the move. He moved out of Viggo’s embrace, wrapping his arms defensively around himself.
Viggo immediately got to his feet and took Orlando into his arms, cursing himself for forgetting for a moment just how insecure the lad still was.
“Only hypothetically, love. If you wanted to stay then I would have stayed, too, but I wasn’t going to suggest leaving and then having to say sorry we have to stay here until we find someone to take over,” Viggo explained, rocking Orlando slightly in his arms, and sighed in relief when he felt Orlando relax.
“Well… alright then.” Orlando allowed that it was better that Viggo hadn’t made a promise that he would be unable to keep, even if it did mean him being kept in the dark. “So, when do we go?”
“Well, like I said, the lease on the house is up in six weeks, so I guess in six weeks.” Viggo finished with a grin.
Orlando smiled up at him, pulling him close for another kiss.
“Six weeks… I guess we’ve got a lot to do then…”
***********
Six weeks later…
Orlando was running around the Youth Shelter like a headless chicken. He and Viggo were supposed to be leaving for the airport in two hours, and he couldn’t find their plane tickets. Cursing under his breath, he pulled a pile of papers onto the floor, shouting in triumph as he came across the documents at last. Guiltily looking around the office at the mess he had made, Orlando wondered if he had time to clean it up among the million other jobs it seemed like he had to do today. He was leaving the office when he spotted a familiar figure entering through the door of the centre.
“Orlando!” that horrible voice called out.
”Why, Mr McKellan, this is a surprise,” Orlando said smoothly, shocking himself by not loosing his cool at the mere sight of the man who had hurt him so badly.
“I hear you’re off to new things, Orlando, and I wondered if I might just have a quick word before you go?” Ian McKellan asked, keeping his voice courteous and light, very much aware of the other people around them shooting him curious looks.
“Sure, why don’t you come into the office,” Orlando suggested, holding open the door he had just walked through and following Ian inside.
“Thank you, my boy,” Ian said, sitting down on the battered couch and motioning for Orlando to sit next to him. He frowned when Orlando pointedly chose a chair across the room, behind what had been his desk until this morning.
“I wanted to come and see you to make sure there were no hard feelings between us, Orlando. I know I was hard on you sometimes when you were under my care, but I only did it to help you, you know that, don’t you?” Ian said, looking pleasantly over at Orlando, who was looking back at him with an expression he generally reserved for cockroaches.
“No hard feelings?” Orlando asked, raising one delicate eyebrow expressively, a habit he had learned from his step-father, who could prophesy doom with only his eyebrows. “You mean am I going to tell the press about what you did to me, and how the church lets you carry on working with kids even though they know you’re a paedophile?”
”Don’t you dare call me that!” Ian was instantly on his feet, crossing the room to stand over Orlando in a threatening manner. “You’re a despicable boy and I never should have come here today. It was foolish to think that you might have changed for the better. You should be locked up, saying such awful things.”
“I should be locked up? After what you did to me, you have the cheek to say that I should be locked up? As it happens, I’m not planning to go to the police or the press, but only because it would make life difficult for my mum, and she doesn’t deserve that. I know what you lot are like, remember, Ian.”
“That’s Mr McKellan to you, young man,” Ian replied, all pretences at civility now gone.
“It’s really not, Ian. You can’t hurt me any more, and you better not hurt my mum or Elijah, because if I hear that you have - and I will hear, Ian, then I’ll go straight to the police and tell them everything. And I do mean everything,” Orlando said, a nasty smile playing on his lips.
“Oh, who’s going to believe a little punk like you?” Ian laughed, not a nice laugh, but one filled with hatred and malice.
“They’ll believe me alright, especially when I get the others to back me up, and the doctor to show them my medical records,” Orlando retorted, sneering at his erstwhile abuser. It wouldn’t do to let Ian know that he was bluffing about his medical records. Bernard had examined him for physical injuries that Hugo had bestowed on him, but Orlando had never told him about the rapes so he had never had reason to go looking for evidence.
Ian growled and lunged for him across the desk, making Orlando scramble backwards to prevent the man from reaching him.
“You can’t hurt me any more, Ian,” Orlando told him. “I’m not scared of you anymore. You might have tormented me when I was tied up and helpless, but you’re the one who should be scared now, scared of what I know, because I can - and will - make the rest of your life very miserable indeed.” It wasn’t like Orlando to take joy from the misery of others, but in Ian’s case he made an exception. The man was so repellent that he almost made Orlando sick to be standing so close to him now.
Orlando jumped backwards when one of Ian’s hands grabbed him around the throat. Reacting in a purely instinctive manner, he slammed one fist forwards straight into Ian’s nose, making the other man howl with pain and release him.
“Get out now, Ian, or I’ll do more than break your beak,” Orlando threatened, following him to the office door to make sure he didn’t linger inside the centre, whilst massaging his throat where Ian had grabbed hold of it. He was pretty sure he would have bruises; he had always bruised easily, much to Hugo’s chagrin. His step father had had to restrict his beatings to those areas of Orlando’s flesh that weren’t normally visible, although really it wouldn’t have mattered too much as the teachers at school were just as prone to chastise anyone who stepped out of line as Hugo was.
Picking up the tickets again, Orlando left the office for what he hoped was the final time, closing the door after him and letting it slam with an air of finality. He pushed his way through the crowds of young people all waiting to say goodbye to himself and Viggo, and made his way into Bernard’s examination room.
“Hey Bernie, can you just take a quick look at my neck for me?” Orlando asked, so much more relaxed now than when Viggo had brought him in that day, which seemed like an eternity ago, although in fact it was barely six months before. Bernard left the notes he was writing and came over to have a look at Orlando’s neck, wincing as he saw the handprint emblazoned in red on the young man’s fair skin.
“What the hell happened, Orli?” he asked, “It wasn’t Viggo, surely?” Bernard knew that Viggo would rather do anything than hurt his young lover. His friend had never been celibate so long than since he had started seeing Orlando, although he had confessed to Bernard that they weren’t completely lacking in passion, just that full sex was off the menu for now.
“That bastard McKellan came by to say goodbye,” Orlando told Bernard. “He grabbed me when I threatened to go to the police about him.”
“Really? Are you okay, Orli? Do you want someone to get Viggo?” Bernard fussed over the young man; he felt rather paternal towards him, and he knew that usually when Orlando was having a crisis, Viggo was the first person he would turn to for help.
“I’m fine. I punched him in the nose and told him I wasn’t scared of him anymore,” Orlando said, giggling at the shocked look on his doctor friend’s face. “I think I broke it for him…”
“That’s great, Orlando!” Bernard said, putting his hand over his mouth when he realised what he had said. “Let me take a look at your hand as well when I’ve finished with these, okay? Don’t want any damage to those fingers of yours, do we now? It wouldn’t do for you to start your new life all beaten up,” Bernard finished, his eyes twinkling with pleasure at how far Orlando had come since the first time they had met. The boy he had known four years before wouldn’t have dreamed of punching anyone, let alone someone so high in the church hierarchy.
Just as Bernard was wrapping Orlando’s knuckles, Viggo stuck his head around the door, slipping in and closing it behind himself when he saw who it was the doctor was treating.
“You taking up boxing, love?” Viggo asked, referring to the white bandage on Orlando’s hand.
“Only briefly.” Orlando grinned. “Ian came by, and I shared my feelings with him.”
“And he with you by the looks of things,” Viggo exclaimed, seeing the livid bruises on Orlando’s neck and hurrying across the room, tilting Orlando’s head this way and that to see how bad the bruising was.
“It’s really nothing, Viggo. Stop worrying. Don’t you have to leave soon?” Bernard asked, reassuring and chivvying Viggo at the same time. Handing Orlando a tube of arnica for his bruises, he hurried them both out the door.
All three of them were taken aback by the cheer that greeted them.
All the children and young people at the Youth Shelter that day had gathered in the main room, clapping and cheering as the three men emerged from the small room. Kyle, the young boy who had helped Orlando build many of the chairs that littered the day centre, was standing in front of everyone, holding a large box and looking extremely nervous and a little embarrassed.
“Uhm…” Kyle began, stepping forward and offering the box to Viggo and Orlando. “We just wanted to say that we’re going to miss you, and we all wish you good luck in your new life. We… we made this for you,” he finished in a rush, thrusting the box into Viggo’s hand and disappearing into the crowd of people.
Viggo pulled the ribbon off of the box and offered it to Orlando to take the lid off. The young man did so, revealing a beautiful hand made scrapbook. When they lifted it out, they found the book full of photos of the kids and the centre, along with messages of love and good wishes for the future. Touched by this show of affection, Orlando felt tears pricking his eyes and swallowed quickly, turning his head into Viggo’s shoulder to hide his emotions from the crowd.
Viggo was feeling none too steady himself, but he knew he had to say something to all the people there, who were waiting for a response to their gift.
“Guys… I just don’t know what to say. This is just amazing, thank you so much. You’ll excuse us if we don’t read the whole thing now, I know, but I think I can promise you that we’ll definitely be spending a lot of time looking at it when we arrive. Dr Hill and Dr Bean have our forwarding address, and you’d better believe we’ll be keeping in touch. It’s been a pleasure watching you all growing up, and I hope we’ll see you again someday,” Viggo finished, as Bernard tapped him on the shoulder, leaning forward to murmur in his ear that they really had to leave now if they wanted to check in on time.
Moving swiftly through a thin aisle that was forming for the purpose, the three men made their way out of the Youth Shelter, Viggo and Orlando shaking the hands of everyone they could reach on the way, and stopping to hug people every so often.
As the car began moving, Orlando twisted and waved goodbye to his old life, before turning to the front, ready to begin again.
THE END