Without you I'm nothing.
There was a time Sean would have laughed at the absurdity, the sheer daftness of such a notion. Plain nonsense, he would have called it. When he came across it floating around his own dark room, the laughter died in his throat.
His days are pretty much the same now, and thank god for keeping them that way. He learns his lines well enough to get to work and do a decent show of saying them; then he drives home, starts leaving some along the way. Kicks one out of his car at a traffic sign, drops another off at the pub. Tosses a few more with his coat on the chair in the lobby. Most he puffs out with the smoke of his pre-dinner cigarettes; digests away with his meal. If by chance there's one or two that escape this scrutiny, next days' take care of pushing them to the back of his mind where they'll go join the proverbial Greek choir of discord.
He works steadily on the script for an hour or so, and if the lines aren't blurred by then he tucks in a few more beers, offers them the kind company of chips and chocolate; re-reads. Finds space for a final scotch or two.
Work and drink, food and smoke a33; he can't allow himself the luxury of idleness. Inertia drags memory on its tail, the only line he's never had to memorize because it got stuck on his skin the moment it was out in the open. There's also a small measure of comfort in these things, an honest, simple pleasure in running his hands over the new curves of his body, assessing its new bulk. Heavy's good; solid is reliable. He knows that Viggo will see the pictures, see how strong and independent he is now.
These bonds are shackle-free...
Because Sean doesn't want this playing over and over in his mind as he tries to sleep, he drowns what he can and eats away the rest. So he can sleep, he tells himself. For Viggo to see, says the choir.
The words had been spoken with the intention, or so he'd thought, of letting Sean know that he belonged to Viggo, that if Viggo were to remove all the accessories, cuffs, chains and links, that, still, Sean would stay. Because Sean and Viggo had become names that went together. Sean had left not too many days after.
Whether it was the cryptic phrasing or the self-assured tone, it had gnawed at Sean far more than it should, leaving him wondering and, in the end, knowing that he wasn't made for it. He'd thought he could do it, and god knows he'd tried, but after that, he'd just fallen slowly out of role; until one day, lifting his eyes from the floor, he'd found Viggo quietly reading a newspaper somewhere above him. Sean had got up off his knees, gone to their room and started packing.
Viggo had fought, protested, probed for and ultimately demanded an explanation. Sean gave him a safeword. And, just before closing the door behind him, a line of his own for Viggo to play with:
It's way too broke to fix.
Summary: Without you I'm nothing.
Rated: PG
Categories: Actor RPS Pairing: Sean/Viggo
Warnings: NoneChallenges:
Series: NoneChapters: 1 Completed: Yes
Word count: 537 Read: 679
Published: 08 Aug 2009 Updated: 08 Aug 2009