FIC: Chapter and Verse 5/? AUTHOR: Widdershin RATING: R PAIRING: SB/VM FEEDBACK: Yes please WARNINGS: AU, major angst DISCLAIMER: This story is 100% fiction. The author doesn't know these people. These events never happened. Unfortunately. BETA: Owlgrey SUMMARY: AUTHOR’S NOTE: This is the sequel to “A Note in the Margin”. You really need to read that series first. The two young mothers stopped talking when they alighted from the bus and looked at the quiet man sitting in the corner of the bus shelter. One made a hushed comment to which the other shook her head and they tugged their children away a little quicker. Viggo lowered his head and closed his eyes, not long now. He ached and his head thumped, but that didn’t matter … he was here and would see him soon. A group of teenage boys spilled out of an old car and laughed as they shoved each other towards the low brick wall in front of the school where they quickly took up residence. Viggo shrank back into the shadow of the shelter. He’d learnt from experience to avoid teenagers in large numbers. He heard another car pull up, the boys started cheering and he could make out a shout of, “Hey, Mortensen …” He leant forward enough to see Henry getting out of the driver’s seat of what looked like a new car. From his hiding place, Viggo watched the boys surround his son who proudly showed off the little blue car until the school bell sounded. When the boys dispersed and disappeared into the school building Viggo whispered sadly, “Happy birthday Henry.” ~*~ A soft breath on the back of his neck was the first thing Sean registered as his uneasy sleep receded, Viggo. But the reality of the night before soon invaded that thought and an empty nausea spread through his belly. He reached out to the nightstand and lifted his cell phone. Sean knew there’d been no call, but he still felt compelled to check … no messages. He turned onto his back and rubbed his fingers over his eyes; they were sore and the small amount of sleep he’d managed had done nothing to ease his headache. It was still early, but Sean knew he couldn’t stay in the bed any longer … it felt wrong. But at the same time he didn’t have the energy to get up. The movement in the bed woke Orlando and he sat up, momentarily thrown by his surroundings; it had been a long time since he had crawled into bed with his parents in this room. He looked down at Sean and, although both men were still fully clothed he felt a little awkward and unsure of what to say. Sean acknowledged Orlando with a brief nod, but escaped further conversation by sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. When Orlando started to speak a simple good morning Sean held up his hand to silence him, got up and walked through to the kitchen. After a visit to the bathroom, Orlando braced himself and entered the kitchen where Sean was stacking dishes in the cupboard. Orlando watched for a little while before getting the courage to ask, “You okay?” “I’m fine,” Sean replied in a manner that told him not to pursue it any further. But Orlando ignored the tone understanding Sean’s defence mechanisms and said, “We can look for him again?” “He’s gone Orlando,” Sean snapped, determined not to allow the emotions bubbling so close to the surface to break through. “You found him last time.” Orlando said quietly. Sean slammed the cupboard door and spun around to face Orlando, “How many times do I have to keep finding him?” That surprised Orlando because the answer seemed so obvious, “Until he stays.” Sean’s resolve crumbled and he sat heavily at the table. Barbara’s words ran through his head, I’m not going to kid you Sean, it’s not going to be easy and it may not work out. So you need to decide is he worth all this? He pushed his hand through his hair and looked towards the window away from Orlando. “I can open Margins if you want?” Orlando asked and sat opposite Sean fiddling with the handle of the empty mug left on the table. Sean shook his head and sighed, “Leave it today …” “But what if he comes to the shop? We have to have it open. I’ll stay at the shop if you want to go look again … maybe that lady at the shelter can help this morning.” Sean took the mug gently from Orlando and turned it over in his hands, he focused on the authors’ names repeated several times in what looked like copperplate … obviously a publisher’s promotion. He placed the mug carefully on the table and looked up at Orlando, his voice soft but determined, “You’re right. I can’t give up that easily.” “Of course I’m right, I’m always right. Yeah?” Orlando grinned and was instantly up out of his chair heading for the door, “Come on then, go find him.” Sean couldn’t help but smile back at the young man literally pushing him out the door. Sean scratched absently at the stubble on his jaw line as he drove down the main street. He felt dirty and uncomfortable in yesterday’s clothes, the same ones he slept in; one fucking night and I’m complaining. Sean turned the car into a side street next to the shelter and shut off the engine. Orlando’s optimism had stayed with him for part of the drive, but now Sean sat in the driver’s seat reluctant to leave the confines of the car. His head fell back against the headrest and he closed his eyes … what if he’s not there? What then? The impending sense of loss was so powerful that it virtually immobilised him … he couldn’t do this, couldn’t go in there again and not find him among all the other lost souls. A tap on the window roused him and Sean opened his eyes to see Barbara standing on the edge of the sidewalk. He wound down the window and gave a not very convincing smile. “Sean isn’t it? What brings you here?” Sean got out of the car and told her as briefly as he could what had happened since their last chat. Barbara simply stood and listened with the occasional nod. When he finished she said, “To be honest Sean, I don’t know what to say to you … but let’s start by going inside to see if he’s there and we can talk properly over a coffee.” Barbara locked her handbag in a drawer in her office and quickly checked through the roster for the day. Sean waited patiently as she frowned over a roster and sighed, “Never enough willing hands. Okay, let’s see if we can find …” She looked at him for a reminder. “Viggo,” Sean said quietly, his stomach already churning. Barbara gave him an apologetic smile and put a hand on his arm while she called out to a young man in the next room, “Brian, let Sean check around a bit … he’s looking for the ‘sketchbook’ guy.” “Sure thing,” Brian shrugged, “but I haven’t seen him around here for quite a while.” He turned to Sean and said, “There are still a few in there, but its mainly old guys sleeping it off until chucking out time.” Barbara was already waiting at the table in the kitchen when Sean finally gave up his search of both the sleeping area and dining room. “Come and sit down love,” Barbara said gently taking note of Sean’s miserable expression, “as I said before, I don’t really know what went wrong, but from what you said it seemed that in his mind it was very important to go … even though he obviously didn’t want to.” Sean nodded, “It was tearing him up for days before ....” Sean hesitated for a minute before asking, “He left his sketch book with me, is that good or bad?” “I don’t really know, but it does tell me that he cared enough to entrust it to you,” Barbara said softly taking hold of Sean’s hand, “I’ve never seen him without it.” Sean looked away as tears threatened; he was determined not to let that happen. It took him several uncomfortable minutes before he managed to say, “Maybe I could call the police?” This is so hard … Barbara watched him carefully as she said, “It’s too early for that hon, maybe tomorrow. But to be honest I don’t think they will follow it up; he’s an adult who left of his own accord and … and I’m sorry to say, is still classed as a transient.” Sean closed his eyes, but knew what she said was true. He took a deep breath and nodded. Barbara squeezed his hand, “I’ll keep an eye open for him here and ask around. Look, I’ve got a map of the park and can show you the most popular places. Plus we can check out where the soup wagon is going to be.” ~*~ It was already late afternoon by the time Sean sank back into the car seat. He had wandered through the park hopeful at first, but gradually became more dejected as he witnessed many dirty faces that either avoided his glances or were simply lost in their own survival. None of them were Viggo’s. Sean checked his cell phone again, but he hadn’t missed any calls. Sean sat in the car for a long time. He watched the grey smoke of his cigarette slowly drift out the open window; the long line of ash finally fell onto his trouser leg. It was afternoon and Sean knew he needed to head back to relieve Orlando, even though it felt a lot like giving up. He butted what was left of the cigarette into the ashtray and turned the keys in the ignition. The news on the car radio was heading into the expected ‘feel good’ human interest story as Sean pulled away from the red light at the intersection near the shop. He glanced briefly at ‘Margins’, more out of habit that anything else, and caught sight of a figure sitting on the sidewalk just out of sight of the shop front. He was past before he could see clearly, but by the time he’d parked the car his heart was hammering hard in his chest. He shoved the keys in his pocket and jogged to the corner slowing to a stop as he reached its edge. Take it easy Bean … He took a deep breath and calmly stepped around the brick work to stop at the figure. When Viggo didn’t look up Sean asked quietly, “Vig? Why are you outside?” Viggo didn’t look at him, but stood up slowly. Sean could see the muscles working in his jaw as he fought to hold himself together enough to answer, “I just came to get my book.” It was said softly, but with the finality of a door slamming in Sean’s face. He looked at Viggo waiting for more, but Viggo continued to stand with his arms defensively wrapped around his body and his eyes on the ground in front of him. Something clenched inside Sean, “It’s upstairs.” He turned his back on Viggo and walked to the door of the apartment. Without further comment Sean opened the door and stood aside for Viggo to walk up the stairs. On entering the living room Sean’s eyes flicked to the sketchbook and he said, “It’s on the coffee table.” He watched Viggo walk across the room, eyes down, and pick up the book. Sean didn’t understand any of this; what had he done wrong? “I looked for you.” Sean said, trying unsuccessfully to keep the anger and bitterness out of his voice, “Half the bloody night Viggo.” Viggo hesitated, his fingers tightening reflexively around the spiral binding of the book. He couldn’t explain …there was no way to make Sean understand … he knew it was no excuse for what he had done, but said tentatively, “I had to see Henry.” “Okay you had to see your son, I can understand that, but I don’t get what’s been going on with you and why you didn’t …” Sean stopped speaking, it suddenly struck him what it all meant and why Viggo didn’t come home. He stood and glared at Viggo not wanting to believe it. Sean slowly shook his head and said with a quiet bitterness to his voice, “Bus fare … is that right Viggo? Is that right?” His hands clenched into fists as his voice rose to a shout, “Still acting like a fucking whore for a few fucking dollars?” Sean’s words battered him; he stared down at the dirty fingers that clutched tightly at his sketchbook. Viggo wanted to run, to get away from the accusations … the truth, but he simply didn’t have the strength anymore. He felt numb; heart and soul. Only every other word registered and he closed his eyes. All the anger and frustration Sean had bottled up since last night poured from him onto Viggo, only pausing to take a breath when he saw Viggo’s book hit the floor. Viggo staggered; his grip on the back of the chair the only thing holding him on his feet. The room was suddenly silent as Sean stood and watched Viggo sway slightly before crumpling to his knees. The air left Sean lungs taking all his anger with it to be replaced by the sickening realisation that he was the one hurting Viggo now. Forgotten keys previously gripped tight enough to make sharp indentations in Sean’s palm were dropped to the carpet and he rushed over to Viggo. “Oh fuck Vig, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Sean gasped and dropped to Viggo’s level where he could wrap strong arms around him to support and hold him close. Viggo was unresponsive and simply let himself be held, only vaguely aware of Sean’s hand moving over his face and through his hair. The warmth of Sean’s breath against his neck went unnoticed and he barely heard breathless, desperate words, “Please Vig, I didn’t mean it like that … I was angry.” Sean’s lifted his face and pressed his forehead against Viggo’s, “Oh God … I can’t stand the thought of someone else touching you … using you like that.” Viggo didn’t answer. “Come on Vig,” He said trying to calm himself more than anything else, “You’re cold … let’s get you in a bath.” With some effort Sean managed to get both Viggo and himself to their feet and guided him slowly to the bathroom. Sean pushed the pile of towel stacked on the chair on to the floor and got Viggo to sit down. The rolling sickness in his stomach increased as Sean watched how Viggo simply allowed himself to be manoeuvred without any acknowledgement or comment. He was at a loss what to do and considered calling Barbara for help … fuck, he even considered calling Orlando, but wanted, needed to be there for Viggo himself. Sean started the water running and turned back to Viggo. His hands shook slightly as he crouched and pulled Viggo’s boots off, he kept waiting for Viggo to tell him to stop … that he could manage himself, but it didn’t come. He rolled off the socks he’d bought; Viggo’s feet were cold. “Your feet are like ice Vig,” Sean said quietly and rubbed one between his hands. He looked up, Viggo was looking at him, but not really watching. Sean pulled one of the fallen towels under Viggo’s feet to keep them off the cold tiles and stood up to carefully tug the t-shirt over Viggo’s head before undoing the button on his jeans. He checked the bath and stilled the taps. “Come on Vig, I need you to stand up,” Sean said quietly, watching for a response. When there was none he put his hand on Viggo’s back and with a little pressure repeated the instruction, “Up Vig, so we can get you into the bath.” Viggo turned, looked at Sean then wearily stood and stepped into the bath. Sean sat on the edge of the porcelain lip not caring that the warm water soaked his trousers. He lifted the flannel and gently wiped it over Viggo’s shoulders. “It’s going to be okay Vig,” Sean said trying to convince himself, “You’re home now … it’ll be all right after a good night’s sleep.” He squeezed the flannel tight and dropped his face into his hand for a moment. It had been a long time since he’d been in a situation that couldn’t be solved with rosters, meetings and simple hard work. He straightened, exhaled a deep breath and stood up. Sean calmly removed his clothes and stepped into the bath behind Viggo. He pulled him back against his chest and whispered, “You’ll see Viggo, we can do this if you help me,” not caring that the water lapped onto the floor. Tbc.