Til There Was You (2/7)
Title: Til There Was You
Author: legolas_is_mine
Beta: mesnica
Rating: This part G, goes up to NC17 later.
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.
Prologue, Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Orlando was startled out of his reverie by the engine of Viggo’s car abruptly cutting out. Looking up, the young man saw that they had arrived at the car park where Viggo’s car would spend the day whilst he was busy helping the young people of the community. Pulling himself out of the car, Orlando winced, moaning in pain as a too deep breath made his side twinge.
“Come on, lad. Let’s get that seen to, huh?” Viggo said, gently putting an arm around Orlando’s shoulders and assisting him inside the day centre.
Once inside, Orlando slumped into a chair to wait as Viggo went to find Dr Hill. Orlando had been tired enough the night before to ignore the pain in his back and side whilst he slept, but now that he was no longer hungry and exhausted, the pain was coursing through his body. Breathing shallowly to ward off the spiking pain in his chest, Orlando tried to smile at the other kids playing and hanging out in the large room, which served as the main room of the shelter.
One of them he knew better than the others, Dominic, shifted up closer to Orlando and rubbed his leg comfortingly. Orlando had first met Dominic at the Youth Group at church, and then again at the Troubled Teen classes the church ran, where young men and women were encouraged to read the bible and listen to the words of the pastor until they were indoctrinated into behaving as the church required. It worked in a lot of cases, but Orlando and Dominic had both found the classes a bore, and their refusal to submit to the church’s discipline had earned them both the title of possessed.
Several of the many exorcisms both had endured had taken place jointly, serving to bring the boys closer. It had been Dominic who had first discovered the Day Shelter, and he had dragged Orlando downtown with him one day when Orlando needed somewhere to hide from Hugo for a few hours. Orlando had become a much more frequent visitor to the centre than Dom, but the other boy still visited on occasion, usually to take advantage of the free, no questions asked medical care available there.
Orlando laid his head on Dominic’s shoulder, blinking his eyes to stop the tears that were forming from flowing. They weren’t waiting long for Viggo and Bernard to return, but it was long enough for the tears to really start to flow. Viggo’s earlier gentle prodding combined with the pain of his injuries and the unexpected comfort of his best friend’s presence had served to demolish the wall of stoicism Orlando had built up around his grief.
“Hey, Orli, come on, come into my surgery, hmm. This horrible lot don’t need to see you cry.” Bernard kept his voice light, but he was worried about Orlando. This young man was one of the strongest kids he had come across in all his years as a volunteer doctor to the disadvantaged, and if he was breaking down like this, it was past time to act.
Orlando sniffled, rubbing at his eyes with the back of his hand.
“Sorry, Dr Hill. Didn’t mean to be a bother, it just…” Orlando swallowed, trying to keep the tears firmly inside where they belonged.
“It’s alright mate, you’re no bother. Just slip your t-shirt off, hmm. Viggo says you’ve got some nasty bruises down there.” Bernard turned awa, ostensibly to put some gloves on, but also to give Orlando a chance to gather his emotions. Bernard knew that the best thing for Orlando right now was to treat him calmly rather than to be overly solicitous of him.
Orlando pulled his t-shirt over his head, dumping it on the couch beside him. Hesitating briefly, he also pulled his jeans off, wanting Bernard to take a look at the bruises on his arse as well, even though he knew that it was his ribs that were hurt more badly.
“You want to tell me what happened, kiddo?” Bernard asked, carefully pressing on Orlando’s stomach, removing the pressure instantly when the young man hissed in pain.
“Not really, Dr Hill,” Orlando replied, rubbing his nose again, and quickly swiping his hand over his eyes to catch the remnants of his tears.
Bernard nodded, Viggo was a lot better at getting the young people to open up than he was himself; his specialty was in patching them up without reporting them, and prescribing low cost medications or giving out free samples wherever he could so that these kids and young adults could get the treatment they needed.
“Alright Orli, that’s fine. Have you managed to catch any of the footie lately?” Bernard continued his examination, pressing gently on Orlando’s ribs to see if any were broken. He rather thought not, a broken rib would have given Orlando much more difficulty breathing than he seemed to be having.
“Not really, I’m not allowed to watch any television at the moment. Hugo says that it’s a corrupting influence on me.” Orlando flushed miserably, looking determinedly at the floor as Bernard began to wind a swathe of white bandages around his chest.
“Eh, you’re not missing much, take it from me. Just turn over for me now, so I can look at your backside,” Bernard said with a wink, daubing the bruises and welts littering Orlando’s back and arse with a cooling, antibacterial gel. Most of the damage was superficial, although it was definitely bad enough to make Orlando uncomfortable for a day or two. He was more worried about the young man’s ribs, which were definitely bruised, if not cracked. Orlando would need to rest up for a few days, and Bernard knew from previous experience that this simply wasn’t an option for him.
“Right then, young man. I’ll get you some Tylenol, and then you can go and… read a book or something. I don’t want you doing anything strenuous here today Orlando, is that understood?”
Orlando nodded reluctantly. Bernard knew as well as he did that once he got home he’d have to do his chores, but usually he would get involved in various projects with the younger kids, enjoying the time spent with them as a contrast to the way he was treated at home. Orlando knew that Dr Hill meant what he said, and so after he had taken the pills he consented to being given into Dominic’s care - the other boy being given strict instructions as to what Orlando was and wasn’t allowed to do that day.
******************
“How you feeling now, Orli?” Viggo came and sat next to Orlando on one of the dilapidated couches that littered the main room of the Day Shelter. Orlando had spent the morning ensconced on the sofa, his body buried in a pile of blankets, his mind in a book. When Viggo spoke to him, he started out of the world in his head.
“A lot better, thanks,” Orlando replied, smiling at Viggo around a mouthful of the sandwich that the older man had brought over to him.
“I’m glad. When you’ve finished your lunch, will you come and talk to me in the office? I have some ideas I want to put to you. Nothing to be scared of,” Viggo said reassuringly, patting one of Orlando’s legs through the blanket pile.
Orlando nodded nervously, wondering what Viggo wanted him to do. Maybe he was going to tell Orlando he couldn’t come back to the centre. Orlando knew he was older than most of the others who came here, but Hugo wouldn’t let him get a job so he was unable to support himself, and he had nowhere else to go unless he changed his tune and eagerly embraced the tenets of the Free Church of Christ the Living Savior. And honestly, that wasn’t going to happen any time in the next century or so.
Leaving Orlando to finish his lunch in peace, Viggo returned to his office, stopping a couple of times on the way to check on some of the other kids. Sitting down at his computer, Viggo opened a few web-pages that he thought might be useful in persuading Orlando to leave home. He also rooted around in his untidy desk until he located the business card of Dr Sean Bean, a psychiatrist of his acquaintance.
Some ten minutes later, a timid knock on the office door alerted Viggo to Orlando’s presence outside his door. Rising from his seat, Viggo went and opened the door, smiling widely as he welcomed Orlando inside.
“Come in Orlando, and take a seat. And stop worrying!” Viggo said, following him back over to the desk and sitting down on the other side of the desk.
“Did… did I do something wrong?” Orlando asked worriedly, biting his lip nervously, and nibbling at his thumb, a habit that all the slaps in the world hadn’t been able to train out of him. Viggo shook his head reassuringly.
“No, no, no!” he said, taking Orlando’s hand across the table. “I just wanted to talk to you about something that I think might be good for you, that’s all. You don’t even have to do anything if you don’t want to, but just hear me out, yeah?”
“O… okay then. I’m not going to the police though, Viggo, no matter what you say. It’s just not worth it.” Orlando, along with every other young person Viggo had ever met in his professional life, was totally adamant on this score.
“I’m not asking you to, Orli, I know how you feel about that. What I wanted to suggest was… well, you’re nineteen, have you ever thought about moving out of your step-dad’s house?” Viggo was careful to put this revolutionary idea as a question, wanting Orlando to make his own decision.
“But… I don’t have a job, or any life skills. What would I do? I’d have nowhere to live!” The young man pushed his chair back, clearly not far from bolting out of Viggo’s office - perhaps out of the centre - for good.
“Does it matter what you would do Orlando? There are plenty of jobs out there for a bright young man like you.”
“But what would I do? Who would give me a job?”
“I would, for one.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you could work here, at the Centre. You’re great with the kids, Orlando, they really like you, and they’re more likely to trust you than me, because they know you’ve been through it as well.”
Orlando calmed at Viggo’s suggestion. He knew that what the older man suggested was true; he did have a good relationship with many of the younger kids who visited the Day Shelter.
“Alright, I could work here, but I still wouldn’t have anywhere to live,” Orlando protested, regarding his thumb closely to find a new place to attack it.
“You could stay at my place…” Viggo offered tentatively
“Why would you want me to stay there?” Orlando asked, instantly suspicious. In his world, you never got something for nothing in return, and the price was usually much higher than he was willing to pay.
“Well, I could do with the company,” Viggo said, running through reasons to suggest to Orlando in his head.
“You think that just because you give me a home I’ll be company for you? No way, man!”
“Not that kind of company! I would never expect that of Orlando, and I’d hope you would know that.”
“I guess I do really, Viggo. I know you aren’t like that, but…”
“I know you’re not used to getting something for nothing, Lan, but I promise I’m not out to take advantage of you, and you really would be doing me a favour helping out here.”
“I guess so… maybe…”
“Just for a few weeks, Lan. Only till you get on your feet. No strings attached, I promise.” Orlando was still regarding Viggo suspiciously, and the older man sighed dejectedly. “Look at it this way, Orli. There are all the kids I see coming in here day after day, week after week, and I can’t do anything to get any of you out of the shitty situations you’re in. Now, you’re older, I can help for once, and I’d really really like to. You may not understand, but you’re sort of special to me Orli, and I don’t want to see you go under. I don’t want to have to watch those gits at your step-dad’s church win again. Please, just give me a chance to prove I’m not like them, that’s all I’m asking.”
Orlando looked down at the floor. He had never thought how the plight of himself and his friends affected those who were left picking up the pieces. The boy knew that Viggo had set up other shelters in other towns, moving on each time once the shelter was well established. He wondered what was different here, what made Viggo stay on. They were interrupted by a knock on the door.
“Who is it?” Viggo called, inwardly cursing at the interruption. Dominic answered, sounding worried.
“Is Orli still in there with you Viggo? I need to talk to him,” Dom called through the door.
“Come in then, Dominic,” Viggo answered, somewhat testily.
Dominic peeked around the door, shrugging apologetically at Viggo.
“Sorry to interrupt, but this is important,” the cheeky faced young man assured Viggo, squatting next to Orlando’s chair. “I just popped home to grab my school books, and I overheard my dad talking to Pastor Jackson on the phone. They were talking about you, man.”
“What were they saying?” Orlando asked, his voice tight with forced calmness.
“They’re gonna do another number on you tonight. Mr. Weaving told Pastor Jackson that you have been violent, and needed urgent correction and care. The jerk said that he would bring Mr. McKellan and Mr. Lee round to yours this evening.”
Orlando went pale, and took a deep breath, before looking at Viggo resignedly and making up his mind.
“Okay. I’ll give it a try. But…”
Viggo’s heart leapt at Orlando’s agreement. Although he would never admit to it, or attempt to act on it, he felt very strongly for Orlando. The British lad was very attractive, and he was so sweet and caring, despite his life at home, hinting that life before his mother had moved to America and married Hugo had been very different.
Dominic was looking backwards and forwards between the older man and his friend, trying to work out what was going on with them.
“But what, Orli?” Viggo asked gently, not wanting to scare Orlando now he had agreed to move into Viggo’s house, albeit on a strictly temporary basis. It was enough to know that he would be away from his step-father, even if it was only for a few weeks,.
“Will you come with me to get my stuff? If I go by myself he’ll probably lock me in my bedroom or something,” Orlando asked, breathing deeply to stop himself panicking, or prematurely rejoicing. There was too much that could go wrong - maybe Viggo would change his mind, or else Hugo would do something to stop him moving out. Hugo disagreed on principle with anything that wasn’t the idea of someone from church, and he hated Viggo, if only because Orlando liked him.
Not that Hugo knew how much Orlando liked the older man. His crush had developed several years before, back when he had still been deeply suspicious of the shelter owner. He had always been careful to keep his sexuality a secret, knowing what had happened to other young people who had admitted that they were not strictly heterosexual. Orlando had no doubt that Hugo would do his best to keep Orlando ‘safely’ at his house, but Viggo was right. Orlando was an adult now, and he was perfectly entitled to move out if he so wished.
“Of course I will, kiddo. No problem at all,” Viggo said with a smile, allowing himself to relax now that Orlando seemed calmer about the concept.
“Oh, I bet there will be a problem,” Orlando said with a humourless laugh. “I just hope he doesn’t take it out on Elijah and my mum.”
“Do you think he’s likely to do that? From what you’ve told me over the years, it seems like he’s never been… physical… with them,” Viggo said. Hugo was a bastard to Orlando, but according to Orlando he had never hurt either of the other two family members.
“I don’t think he’d hit them, but he might get even stricter with Elijah.” Orlando pursed his lips, pushing his thumb back into his mouth and gnawing on it distractedly. Viggo came around the desk to sit on the side and took Orlando’s hands in his own.
“Orli, you can’t sacrifice your whole life to save Elijah from his father. Once you’ve got a home of your own and a good job - and you will have both, I know it, you can work on getting Elijah out of there, all the while you stay, you’re as powerless as he is.” Stroking Orlando’s thumb gently, Viggo looked the younger man straight in the eyes, attempting to persuade him purely by strength of will. After several long moments, Orlando’s body suddenly relaxed.
“Yes. You’re right. The sooner I get myself sorted out, the sooner I can help Elijah. Maybe I can convince him to come down here sometimes, just to see what normal kids are doing, watch a bit of T.V. or something. And we could keep in touch that way.”
“I think that’s an excellent idea, Orlando. So, when do you want to fetch your stuff? Shall we go now, or wait till later on?”
“Now. Whilst I have the nerve built up!” Orlando said decisively, “Also, if we wait till later the whole gang will probably be there. Pastor Jackson, that slimy git McKellan and the rest of them. Much better to get in and out before they arrive.”
Viggo was inclined to agree. He was confident that he could best Hugo if it came to a physical fight, but a whole group of determined church members would be harder to handle.
Author: legolas_is_mine
Beta: mesnica
Rating: This part G, goes up to NC17 later.
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.
Prologue, Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Orlando was startled out of his reverie by the engine of Viggo’s car abruptly cutting out. Looking up, the young man saw that they had arrived at the car park where Viggo’s car would spend the day whilst he was busy helping the young people of the community. Pulling himself out of the car, Orlando winced, moaning in pain as a too deep breath made his side twinge.
“Come on, lad. Let’s get that seen to, huh?” Viggo said, gently putting an arm around Orlando’s shoulders and assisting him inside the day centre.
Once inside, Orlando slumped into a chair to wait as Viggo went to find Dr Hill. Orlando had been tired enough the night before to ignore the pain in his back and side whilst he slept, but now that he was no longer hungry and exhausted, the pain was coursing through his body. Breathing shallowly to ward off the spiking pain in his chest, Orlando tried to smile at the other kids playing and hanging out in the large room, which served as the main room of the shelter.
One of them he knew better than the others, Dominic, shifted up closer to Orlando and rubbed his leg comfortingly. Orlando had first met Dominic at the Youth Group at church, and then again at the Troubled Teen classes the church ran, where young men and women were encouraged to read the bible and listen to the words of the pastor until they were indoctrinated into behaving as the church required. It worked in a lot of cases, but Orlando and Dominic had both found the classes a bore, and their refusal to submit to the church’s discipline had earned them both the title of possessed.
Several of the many exorcisms both had endured had taken place jointly, serving to bring the boys closer. It had been Dominic who had first discovered the Day Shelter, and he had dragged Orlando downtown with him one day when Orlando needed somewhere to hide from Hugo for a few hours. Orlando had become a much more frequent visitor to the centre than Dom, but the other boy still visited on occasion, usually to take advantage of the free, no questions asked medical care available there.
Orlando laid his head on Dominic’s shoulder, blinking his eyes to stop the tears that were forming from flowing. They weren’t waiting long for Viggo and Bernard to return, but it was long enough for the tears to really start to flow. Viggo’s earlier gentle prodding combined with the pain of his injuries and the unexpected comfort of his best friend’s presence had served to demolish the wall of stoicism Orlando had built up around his grief.
“Hey, Orli, come on, come into my surgery, hmm. This horrible lot don’t need to see you cry.” Bernard kept his voice light, but he was worried about Orlando. This young man was one of the strongest kids he had come across in all his years as a volunteer doctor to the disadvantaged, and if he was breaking down like this, it was past time to act.
Orlando sniffled, rubbing at his eyes with the back of his hand.
“Sorry, Dr Hill. Didn’t mean to be a bother, it just…” Orlando swallowed, trying to keep the tears firmly inside where they belonged.
“It’s alright mate, you’re no bother. Just slip your t-shirt off, hmm. Viggo says you’ve got some nasty bruises down there.” Bernard turned awa, ostensibly to put some gloves on, but also to give Orlando a chance to gather his emotions. Bernard knew that the best thing for Orlando right now was to treat him calmly rather than to be overly solicitous of him.
Orlando pulled his t-shirt over his head, dumping it on the couch beside him. Hesitating briefly, he also pulled his jeans off, wanting Bernard to take a look at the bruises on his arse as well, even though he knew that it was his ribs that were hurt more badly.
“You want to tell me what happened, kiddo?” Bernard asked, carefully pressing on Orlando’s stomach, removing the pressure instantly when the young man hissed in pain.
“Not really, Dr Hill,” Orlando replied, rubbing his nose again, and quickly swiping his hand over his eyes to catch the remnants of his tears.
Bernard nodded, Viggo was a lot better at getting the young people to open up than he was himself; his specialty was in patching them up without reporting them, and prescribing low cost medications or giving out free samples wherever he could so that these kids and young adults could get the treatment they needed.
“Alright Orli, that’s fine. Have you managed to catch any of the footie lately?” Bernard continued his examination, pressing gently on Orlando’s ribs to see if any were broken. He rather thought not, a broken rib would have given Orlando much more difficulty breathing than he seemed to be having.
“Not really, I’m not allowed to watch any television at the moment. Hugo says that it’s a corrupting influence on me.” Orlando flushed miserably, looking determinedly at the floor as Bernard began to wind a swathe of white bandages around his chest.
“Eh, you’re not missing much, take it from me. Just turn over for me now, so I can look at your backside,” Bernard said with a wink, daubing the bruises and welts littering Orlando’s back and arse with a cooling, antibacterial gel. Most of the damage was superficial, although it was definitely bad enough to make Orlando uncomfortable for a day or two. He was more worried about the young man’s ribs, which were definitely bruised, if not cracked. Orlando would need to rest up for a few days, and Bernard knew from previous experience that this simply wasn’t an option for him.
“Right then, young man. I’ll get you some Tylenol, and then you can go and… read a book or something. I don’t want you doing anything strenuous here today Orlando, is that understood?”
Orlando nodded reluctantly. Bernard knew as well as he did that once he got home he’d have to do his chores, but usually he would get involved in various projects with the younger kids, enjoying the time spent with them as a contrast to the way he was treated at home. Orlando knew that Dr Hill meant what he said, and so after he had taken the pills he consented to being given into Dominic’s care - the other boy being given strict instructions as to what Orlando was and wasn’t allowed to do that day.
******************
“How you feeling now, Orli?” Viggo came and sat next to Orlando on one of the dilapidated couches that littered the main room of the Day Shelter. Orlando had spent the morning ensconced on the sofa, his body buried in a pile of blankets, his mind in a book. When Viggo spoke to him, he started out of the world in his head.
“A lot better, thanks,” Orlando replied, smiling at Viggo around a mouthful of the sandwich that the older man had brought over to him.
“I’m glad. When you’ve finished your lunch, will you come and talk to me in the office? I have some ideas I want to put to you. Nothing to be scared of,” Viggo said reassuringly, patting one of Orlando’s legs through the blanket pile.
Orlando nodded nervously, wondering what Viggo wanted him to do. Maybe he was going to tell Orlando he couldn’t come back to the centre. Orlando knew he was older than most of the others who came here, but Hugo wouldn’t let him get a job so he was unable to support himself, and he had nowhere else to go unless he changed his tune and eagerly embraced the tenets of the Free Church of Christ the Living Savior. And honestly, that wasn’t going to happen any time in the next century or so.
Leaving Orlando to finish his lunch in peace, Viggo returned to his office, stopping a couple of times on the way to check on some of the other kids. Sitting down at his computer, Viggo opened a few web-pages that he thought might be useful in persuading Orlando to leave home. He also rooted around in his untidy desk until he located the business card of Dr Sean Bean, a psychiatrist of his acquaintance.
Some ten minutes later, a timid knock on the office door alerted Viggo to Orlando’s presence outside his door. Rising from his seat, Viggo went and opened the door, smiling widely as he welcomed Orlando inside.
“Come in Orlando, and take a seat. And stop worrying!” Viggo said, following him back over to the desk and sitting down on the other side of the desk.
“Did… did I do something wrong?” Orlando asked worriedly, biting his lip nervously, and nibbling at his thumb, a habit that all the slaps in the world hadn’t been able to train out of him. Viggo shook his head reassuringly.
“No, no, no!” he said, taking Orlando’s hand across the table. “I just wanted to talk to you about something that I think might be good for you, that’s all. You don’t even have to do anything if you don’t want to, but just hear me out, yeah?”
“O… okay then. I’m not going to the police though, Viggo, no matter what you say. It’s just not worth it.” Orlando, along with every other young person Viggo had ever met in his professional life, was totally adamant on this score.
“I’m not asking you to, Orli, I know how you feel about that. What I wanted to suggest was… well, you’re nineteen, have you ever thought about moving out of your step-dad’s house?” Viggo was careful to put this revolutionary idea as a question, wanting Orlando to make his own decision.
“But… I don’t have a job, or any life skills. What would I do? I’d have nowhere to live!” The young man pushed his chair back, clearly not far from bolting out of Viggo’s office - perhaps out of the centre - for good.
“Does it matter what you would do Orlando? There are plenty of jobs out there for a bright young man like you.”
“But what would I do? Who would give me a job?”
“I would, for one.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you could work here, at the Centre. You’re great with the kids, Orlando, they really like you, and they’re more likely to trust you than me, because they know you’ve been through it as well.”
Orlando calmed at Viggo’s suggestion. He knew that what the older man suggested was true; he did have a good relationship with many of the younger kids who visited the Day Shelter.
“Alright, I could work here, but I still wouldn’t have anywhere to live,” Orlando protested, regarding his thumb closely to find a new place to attack it.
“You could stay at my place…” Viggo offered tentatively
“Why would you want me to stay there?” Orlando asked, instantly suspicious. In his world, you never got something for nothing in return, and the price was usually much higher than he was willing to pay.
“Well, I could do with the company,” Viggo said, running through reasons to suggest to Orlando in his head.
“You think that just because you give me a home I’ll be company for you? No way, man!”
“Not that kind of company! I would never expect that of Orlando, and I’d hope you would know that.”
“I guess I do really, Viggo. I know you aren’t like that, but…”
“I know you’re not used to getting something for nothing, Lan, but I promise I’m not out to take advantage of you, and you really would be doing me a favour helping out here.”
“I guess so… maybe…”
“Just for a few weeks, Lan. Only till you get on your feet. No strings attached, I promise.” Orlando was still regarding Viggo suspiciously, and the older man sighed dejectedly. “Look at it this way, Orli. There are all the kids I see coming in here day after day, week after week, and I can’t do anything to get any of you out of the shitty situations you’re in. Now, you’re older, I can help for once, and I’d really really like to. You may not understand, but you’re sort of special to me Orli, and I don’t want to see you go under. I don’t want to have to watch those gits at your step-dad’s church win again. Please, just give me a chance to prove I’m not like them, that’s all I’m asking.”
Orlando looked down at the floor. He had never thought how the plight of himself and his friends affected those who were left picking up the pieces. The boy knew that Viggo had set up other shelters in other towns, moving on each time once the shelter was well established. He wondered what was different here, what made Viggo stay on. They were interrupted by a knock on the door.
“Who is it?” Viggo called, inwardly cursing at the interruption. Dominic answered, sounding worried.
“Is Orli still in there with you Viggo? I need to talk to him,” Dom called through the door.
“Come in then, Dominic,” Viggo answered, somewhat testily.
Dominic peeked around the door, shrugging apologetically at Viggo.
“Sorry to interrupt, but this is important,” the cheeky faced young man assured Viggo, squatting next to Orlando’s chair. “I just popped home to grab my school books, and I overheard my dad talking to Pastor Jackson on the phone. They were talking about you, man.”
“What were they saying?” Orlando asked, his voice tight with forced calmness.
“They’re gonna do another number on you tonight. Mr. Weaving told Pastor Jackson that you have been violent, and needed urgent correction and care. The jerk said that he would bring Mr. McKellan and Mr. Lee round to yours this evening.”
Orlando went pale, and took a deep breath, before looking at Viggo resignedly and making up his mind.
“Okay. I’ll give it a try. But…”
Viggo’s heart leapt at Orlando’s agreement. Although he would never admit to it, or attempt to act on it, he felt very strongly for Orlando. The British lad was very attractive, and he was so sweet and caring, despite his life at home, hinting that life before his mother had moved to America and married Hugo had been very different.
Dominic was looking backwards and forwards between the older man and his friend, trying to work out what was going on with them.
“But what, Orli?” Viggo asked gently, not wanting to scare Orlando now he had agreed to move into Viggo’s house, albeit on a strictly temporary basis. It was enough to know that he would be away from his step-father, even if it was only for a few weeks,.
“Will you come with me to get my stuff? If I go by myself he’ll probably lock me in my bedroom or something,” Orlando asked, breathing deeply to stop himself panicking, or prematurely rejoicing. There was too much that could go wrong - maybe Viggo would change his mind, or else Hugo would do something to stop him moving out. Hugo disagreed on principle with anything that wasn’t the idea of someone from church, and he hated Viggo, if only because Orlando liked him.
Not that Hugo knew how much Orlando liked the older man. His crush had developed several years before, back when he had still been deeply suspicious of the shelter owner. He had always been careful to keep his sexuality a secret, knowing what had happened to other young people who had admitted that they were not strictly heterosexual. Orlando had no doubt that Hugo would do his best to keep Orlando ‘safely’ at his house, but Viggo was right. Orlando was an adult now, and he was perfectly entitled to move out if he so wished.
“Of course I will, kiddo. No problem at all,” Viggo said with a smile, allowing himself to relax now that Orlando seemed calmer about the concept.
“Oh, I bet there will be a problem,” Orlando said with a humourless laugh. “I just hope he doesn’t take it out on Elijah and my mum.”
“Do you think he’s likely to do that? From what you’ve told me over the years, it seems like he’s never been… physical… with them,” Viggo said. Hugo was a bastard to Orlando, but according to Orlando he had never hurt either of the other two family members.
“I don’t think he’d hit them, but he might get even stricter with Elijah.” Orlando pursed his lips, pushing his thumb back into his mouth and gnawing on it distractedly. Viggo came around the desk to sit on the side and took Orlando’s hands in his own.
“Orli, you can’t sacrifice your whole life to save Elijah from his father. Once you’ve got a home of your own and a good job - and you will have both, I know it, you can work on getting Elijah out of there, all the while you stay, you’re as powerless as he is.” Stroking Orlando’s thumb gently, Viggo looked the younger man straight in the eyes, attempting to persuade him purely by strength of will. After several long moments, Orlando’s body suddenly relaxed.
“Yes. You’re right. The sooner I get myself sorted out, the sooner I can help Elijah. Maybe I can convince him to come down here sometimes, just to see what normal kids are doing, watch a bit of T.V. or something. And we could keep in touch that way.”
“I think that’s an excellent idea, Orlando. So, when do you want to fetch your stuff? Shall we go now, or wait till later on?”
“Now. Whilst I have the nerve built up!” Orlando said decisively, “Also, if we wait till later the whole gang will probably be there. Pastor Jackson, that slimy git McKellan and the rest of them. Much better to get in and out before they arrive.”
Viggo was inclined to agree. He was confident that he could best Hugo if it came to a physical fight, but a whole group of determined church members would be harder to handle.