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Reflections in Blood	By : JulieDoc Category: Lord of the Rings Movies > General > Lord of the Ring Stars Views: 2338 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is work of fiction! I do not know the celebrity(ies) I am writing about, and I do not profit from these writings.

Chapter List
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3. Gnawed from the Inside
The blond man barely noticed the intruder to the party, as he was far too lost in his own thoughts. Sean Bean had ignored Cate and Miranda when they'd sought him out to ask what was wrong with him. That had been asked of him more times than he could count tonight. When Hugo and Ian, who seemed to be palling around more than usual at this event, had questioned him, there'd been concern on both their faces, but also a sort of knowing. He'd growled at them that he would be fine, that he just needed to sort things out. What he really wanted to do was shake whatever information they had out of them. Dammit, if they weren't talking, then neither would he. It wasn't as if he could place an exact name to his problem, anyway. The only thing he could name was his fear.
When Elijah had asked him what the matter was, all the pain and weariness of the past few weeks had come ganging back on him. His eyes were so wide, so sincerely caring, and they were backed up by Dom, Billy, Astin and Orli, concern in stereo. He refused their need to know, but far more gently, the weariness they'd brought in him making it impossible to lash out. Sean hoped that lasted, but the past few weeks had told him to expect otherwise. Dom and Billy had tried to cheer him, huggling him, and humorously referring to him as Boromir, telling him it would be all right. Orlando tried to make him laugh. Astin had simply looked at him mournfully, as if he understood his stress, but not its source. This was what he'd come here for, not for the movie, or because he'd been invited. He had come to find his center again, to come to some peace. Hopefully, he could trust himself with his friends more than he trusted himself with his family.
Unfortunately, this was turning out just as bad, or nearly so. John had told him that he looked tired, and that he should get someone to drive him back to his hotel. When John offered, Sean merely mumbled something that put John off. Worse, he'd hardly said ten words to Viggo all night. It was the poet of the Fellowship he�d really come seeking, as Viggo was as close as he really had to a best friend. If anyone could help him regain his balance, it was Viggo.
Unfortunately, his relations with everyone else had been going so splendidly that Sean didn�t dare want to unleash his mood on Viggo. It�s more than a mood, call it what it is, insanity, he chided himself as he slumped down into a chair, pushing his wineglass away from him onto the convenient tabletop. God, he was tired.
"You look half dead," a soft, familiar voice sounded Sean�s own opinion of himself.

Sean didn�t have to look up to see that it was the very man he�d been thinking about. There was a reason they�d become so close; it was as if Viggo could see his thoughts. Then again, anyone could see how he felt tonight; it wasn�t as if he�d exactly been a master of subtlety.
"I feel that way, mate." Sean managed a weak smile.
Viggo�s hand closed over his shoulder. "You need to sleep. It looks like you haven�t in days. I wouldn�t drive back to your hotel like this. Come on," Viggo gave him a light tap, "I�ll take you back."
"No, no," Sean had to exert a strong control over himself not to sound short with him, like he had with everyone but Orli and the Hobbits. "What about the party?"
"Everyone will understand. I�ll drive you back," Viggo extended his hand. "Come on."
"Mate, if they see us both leaving, well, people will talk," Sean managed a little humor.
"One of the worst jokes I�ve ever heard," Viggo smiled. "Now I know you�re out of it. Come on."
Sean finally relented, allowing Viggo to lead him from the room. As if connected by a invisible tether, Sean followed tiredly behind him, out into the parking garage to Viggo�s rental car. Sean sat back in the passenger seat, sighing. Hew Vew Viggo wasn�t going to let the matter of his attitude here drop. Part of it was the fact that he really wanted to talk to someone about it, but wouldn�t know how anyone would react to his only conclusion about it. Viggo pulled the car from its space, and they set out. It was only a short matter of time before the silence between them turned from companionable to apprehensive. "You�re hurting, Sean, anyone can see that," it was no demand for information, it was simply a statement of sympathy, and Sean broke beneath the gentle urging that wasn�t.

"Viggo, I think I'm losing my mind." Viggo said nothing; it wasn�t the time for it. "I snap at the slightest little problem I get with this script I�m looking at. I mean, it�s a fucking script! I get the urge to throw things about, and you know I haven�t got a snap temper. Then, the girls came to visit . . . I yelled at Molly for some stupid little thing, and broke down crying later. I don�t trust myself."
"You�re probably beating yourself up for less than you think it is. I�ve yelled at Henry before, though not often, and it made me regret it the moment I did it."
"I nearly threatened violence toward my children, for God's sake!! When I'm alone I wake up with blood under my fingernails, and gouges from them all over my sides. Sometimes, I wake up in the yard, not remembering how I got there."
The brief turn of Viggo�s head locked their eyes for a moment. There was more than sympathy there, there was great concern. "Have you . . ."
Best friends simply knew the pertinent questions, no matter how long they'd been separated. "No, I haven't been drinking, or taking anything stronger than aspirin for the headaches this is bringing me."
"Is that what happened to your hand? You hurt yourself during one of the blackouts?"

Viggo gave a quick glance from the road to Sean's hand, wrapped to the wrist in bandages.
"No, I was bitten by a stray dog before all this started. At first, I thought I might be having a bad reaction to the rabies shots, but when it didn't stop . . ."
"You left. You thought you were dangerous, or that you might start to become dangerous."
"That�s why I came to see you. If none of the others, I was sure you could help me sort this out. I need my spirits lifted, too."
"So you went to the boys for that. I can�t say I blame you. Then, when that went wrong, you were planning to close up all night. You weren�t planning to talk to me. You should have said something to me."
"I see that now," Sean yawned, and his head lolled over onto his shoulder. Viggo shot a quick, indulgent look at his friend. He felt almost gratified that Sean had relaxed with him. "Haven�t been sleeping," the Englishman muttered, "afraid I might throw myself out the window or something." Viggo nodded as he drove his way into the parking structure of Sean�s hotel, which hadn�t been too far from the House of Blues Complex. He never bothered with valet parking; thought it pretentious. Anyway, it looked like he was practically going to have to carry Sean in now. Talking about what was happening to him was destroying him physically and mentally, and his body was shutting down.
Viggo kicked the car door shut hel helped ease Sean out of the passenger seat. The younger man could barely keep his feet. He cinched an arm around Sean�s waist and guided them both to the elevator. Viggo was trying to ignore the warm weight against his side, which stirred feelings that he had tried not to think about for almost a year. There were very few places in the worldwoulwould rather have been, despite Sean�s condition. Being here for him, and with him, felt good. Sean Bean was the type of man who, like Viggo, wasn�t always as open as he needed or wanted, and the fact that Sean had actually let him in was a small treasure.
Viggo tried not to let it feel too good. The fact that the whole Fellowship and many of the other principals in the cast loved each other like a family wasn�t a secret at all. Loving Sean was something that came naturally from the deep friendship they�d struck; being in love with him was out of the question. It wasn�t because Sean was another man, though he was almost sure Sean would have a problem with that; it was because Sean was his friend. Falling in love with one�s friends almost always spelled disaster, and Viggo would do nothing to break his trust.
The target of the older man�s thoughts sighed as he let himself continue to be led. It ferongrong, ordinarily, to let someone guide him around; Sean prided himself on being strongly independent. Still, he could have been blinded instead of going mad and trusted Viggo to lead him in the right direction. His friend was compassionate and honest, and Sean loved him for it.
Strong hands helped him steady himself when he clumsily tripped over his own foot. As Viggo�s fingers clutched his arm, he felt himself tense. Then, an errant thought, one that he hadhad had in ages, seized him: how would those fingers feel on his skin, stroking to comfort him, then igniting heat everywhere they went? A wave of bald-faced lust lanced through him and he growled. It was like the flasof aof anger he�d had both here and back home, but this was somehow sharper, even more real. Then, he shook it off and leaned against a wall of the elevator once they were inside.
He didn�t let Viggo touch him again. Somehow, desire had him far more afraid than any madness or rage. When they found Sean�s room, Sean swiped the card quickly, then turned, the nervousness of earlier tonight returning twofold. "Thanks, Viggo," the hug was quick, the contact light.
The jade-and blue eyes looked suspicious. Sean hadn�t finished talking, no, not by a long shot, and now the blond was evading him again. "I�m seeing you in. I�m not going to let you collapse inside the door."
"Yesm,&qm," Sean tried to joke, but he was afraid for the thought he�d had earlier. What the Hell kind of idiot was he, thinking of jumping his best friend? Once they were inside the room, he threw his silence up like a wall between them, not wanting to think about it.
He returned wearing a pair of black pajamas that gleamed a little in the light. "When did you get out of the mansion, Hugh Heffner? You must miss your Bunnies and your smoking jacket." Viggo teased.
"Consider yourself lucky, mate. I usually don�t wear anything at all." he shut off the light. "You know, you drove me back, you really don�t have to tuck me into bed," Sean chuckled nervously, suddenly feeling studied.
"I�m going to sit up with you, to make sure you don�t sleepwalk, or whatever it is you do. I don�t want you hurting yourself." The measuring gaze softened some.
"Viggo, you don�t have to."
"There�s hardly anywhere else I�d rather be, and, barring my son, no one else I�d rather be with. Get some sleep, Sean." Viggo stretched out on the couch and watched the bed. "You�re not going to be jumping out any windows while her here."
Sean believed him, and the gaze across from the bed didn�t feel as invasive as he thought it might. No, it was soothing. Not jumping out any windows, eh? No, I don�t think I will at that. He rolled to his stomach, folded his arms, and laid his head down, his faith in Viggo absolute.
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Reflections in Blood