A Fresh Start III
Title : A Fresh Start III
Author : dalehead
Pairing : VigBean
Rating : NC-17: For adult themes of a non sexual kind
Summary: Sean is in mourning.
A/N : For readers of VigBean - this is all made up
A/N 2: There death beneath the cut, but neither of the main protagonists.
For laura_iskra and caras_galadhon
The autumn storms that year were the worse in living memory. Every night for a month, or so it seemed, the village, indeed the county, was battered by strong winds and driving rains.
For a month, Sean was holed up in his cottage and as he saw it, there was a choice. Either he did nothing and sat around feeling sorry for himself, or he put a new kitchen and bathroom in. He had already decided what he wanted, had sourced suppliers. It was a no brainer.
“Sean...” Viggo was in the pub when Sean came in. “Christ man, what on earth have you been doing.”
“Plumbing in the new bathroom and I’ve opened a whole can of worms. I have no water, I need more piping and I can’t get it till tomorrow.” He grinned. “I hope I don’t smell.”
“You could come for a shower at my place?” Viggo offered.
“No thanks, I mean,” Sean realised he’d sounded a bit brusque. “I can manage. There is plenty of other stuff I can do and as I don;’t sleep much these days, I can be getting on with what needs to be done.”
“Well if you change your mind...” Viggo smiled.
“Thanks and now, can I get you a drink? Sean was determined to show Viggo that he wasn’t always weeping and wailing all over the place.
“I’ve got one, thanks though.”
Sean frowned. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, fine.” Viggo’s smile didn’t reach his eyes though and Sean hoped it was nothing he’d done.
“What’s up?” His eyebrow arched. “I know there’s something. I’m not blind.”
“It’s nothing, I’m worried about the Manor, that’s all.”
“Why? What’s up?”
“I thought you were going to volunteer.” Viggo countered.
“I am, but not in this weather, as soon as it improves I’ll be there to start the heavy digging, in the meantime I’m doing the work on the cottage.”
“There are a whole lot of slates off the roof. It’s going to cost a fortune to get a roofer to put them back.”
“I could have a look at it, it you like.” Sean added quickly. “When the weather improves.”
“Thanks Sean but we need a specialist.”
“Bollocks, I’ve put my own roof on before, I’ve done thatch too, come to that.” He picked up his pint and drank thirstily. “May I have another, George?” He called to the barman.
“You’ve done roofing before?”
“Yep.”
“Really Sean?”
“We bought a plot of land with an old barn on it, did it up ourselves. I learned all sorts of things when I fought in Bosnia. Actually I have some very basic basic medical skills, I could stitch you up, I can even perform simple surgery in the middle of a skirmish.” Sean grinned for a moment then his face faltered.
Whatever Viggo was going to say was lost when a crowd of lads barged into the pub.
They were obviously drunk; loud to boot. They bought some drinks and made Josie the barmaid’s eyes glint angrily.
“Who are they?”
“Local ruffians. Normally they behave in here but George has popped out so they are in to make a bit of trouble.”
“Oi … Faggot...” One of the lads, tall and dark haired, looked over at them.
Sean stood up. Anyone who knew Sean knew what a gentle man he was. But he hadn’t served overseas in some of the bloodiest trouble spots in the world for nothing.
“Are you talking to me?” He exuded menace, his green eyes usually so kind or sad, now glittered angrily. There was an air about him, an undercurrent of something violent, something dangerous.
The lad stepped back.
“No? Well I suggest you finish your drinks quickly and get out.” He snarled and the lads were taking no chances. They left their barely touched drinks and hurried away, muttering darkly.
“You wanna be careful.” A guy about Sean’s age said, a worried frown on his face. “They’ll get you for that.”
“Let them try.” Sean grinned. “Unless one of them carries a Kalashnikov I’m not really worried.
Viggo frowned; Sean looked at him. “What?
“Nothing...”
“If you think I’m going to sit back and let some arsehole call me names...”
“He wasn’t calling you names, he was calling me names.”
“Well if you think I’m going to sit back and let some arsehole call you names, you’ve another think coming.” Sean was glaring.
“Supposing they come back?”
“If they come back I’ll knock their blocks off.” Sean picked up his pint.
The ease of the evening had gone though. Sean finished his drink quickly. “Wind’s got up.” He remarked. “Again.”
“Yeah.” Viggo sighed. “Will we ever get some dry weather?”
“Hope so.” Sean got ready to leave. “I’ll come up to the Manor tomorrow, have a look if you like, though why you’re so worried about it I don’t know. The National Trust will sort it won’t they?”
“Because …” Viggo shrugged. “I do.”
“Fair enough.” Shrugging on his coat, Sean clapped him on the shoulder. “I’ll be up about 11, I gotta go to the builders’ yard for supplies first.
“See you then... “ It seemed to Sean that Viggo wanted to say something. But nothing came out.
It was a filthy night, the wind was whistling through the trees and it was tippling down. Sean had his wits about him and was ready and waiting for the the group of lads thought they were about to catch Sean unawares. They were sadly mistaken. The first one who tried to jump on him found himself dispatched and laying on the muddy ground within seconds. Sean picked him up by his jacket.
The other boys stood back.
“Don’t fuck with me.” He spoke perfectly pleasantly. “I’ve fought in Bosnia, in Iraq and with Somalian pirates, so back off and don’t let us meet like this again.”
His point had been made. The boys did exactly as he’d said and backed off. Sean smiled to himself and went on his way. He almost jumped out of his skin when he heard his name called.
“Sean? Sean?” He turned and there was Viggo walking towards him, and drenched to the skin by the look of him.
“Jesus, what happened to you?”
“I started home and then came after you, I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“Well I’m fine, c’mon, come back with me, though I should warn you, I’ve no water, remember?”
“Doesn’t seem to bother you much.” Viggo smiled, despite his chattering teeth.
That decided Sean. “Save your breath for walking or better still jogging, if you can manage.”
“Oi, cheeky bastard.” Viggo called as Sean begun a gentle trot back to the cottage. His idea was for Viggo to warm up before the cold seeped in too deep. He was pleased to notice Viggo kept up with him easily. Pleased that he was as fit as Sean had thought when they first met. He realised he was thinking about Viggo in a way that both exited and scared him. He wasn’t ready, it was too soon.
They arrived back at the cottage and Sean put more coal on the fire.
“I didn’t realise Rose Cottage had a fireplace that still worked.” Viggo crouched as near as he could. “It’s beautiful.”
“I just took off the boards and swept the chimney.”
“You swept the chimney?”
“Yeah, well how hard do you think it is? I got a broom and tied it to a pole, the washing pole for my washing line and stuck it up, made a helluv mess.”
“No shit?” Viggo rolled his eyes. “That must have come as something of a surprise.”
Sean laughed. A proper laugh.
“No, well yes, actually yes, but it didn’t take long to ….” He broke off. “Why are you staring at me?”
“I …” Viggo shrugged. “Just I don’t think I’ve seen you laugh before, it took me by surprise.”
The atmosphere in the room changed. Sean was overcome with some many conflicting emotions, he felt dizzy with it. “I’ll make tea.”
“I didn’t think you had water?
“I don’t, but I bought some bottled stuff, you stay here, get warm. You want something to eat?”
“I’m starving.”
“Sandwiches, you’re not a … veggie? Are you?”
Viggo laughed. “No Sean, I am not a veggie, I am a tree hugger but a tree hugger who eats meat.”
“Good, because I’ve got some cold pork in the fridge, be right back.”
Once he’d got something to do, he felt better. After all, he wasn’t doing anything wrong which didn’t explain why he felt so guilty, as if he was. But he made the sandwiches, great doorstep pieces of bread with thick slices of pork inbetween them, a liberal helping of chutney to liven it up. He put the kettle on and leaned against the counter, deep in thought. Do you want some bread with that pork? He could hear his husband’s beloved voice in his head. He smiled, got on with the tea.
When he got back to the living room, Viggo was curled up on the couch, snoring gently. Sean rolled his eyes. He put the plate down and quietly fetched a spare blanket from the bedroom, then he took tea back to the kitchen, put it on the tray with his own and his food, took the whole lot upstairs and after he’d eaten and drunk, he went to bed. He decided not to think any more that night.
~~
It was late when Sean awoke, late by his standards. Hitherto, he’d been up and around at 5 but this morning it was a quarter past six before he got out of bed. Viggo had gone, of course he had, but Sean noticed the sandwich had been eaten and the plate was in the sink. He sat on the couch. It was still a little warm. He laid down where Viggo had been sleeping, feeling Viggo’s body warmth. He stayed there until all that was left was the memory of another man’s presence. Then he got up, it was time to get going.
What Sean needed for now was hard physical work. It looked like the weather had finally improved, as if the storms had blown themselves out in a last hallo. The sun was shining as Sean drove down to the builders merchant.
It was still shining when he arrived home with all his supplies plus extra. He was very surprised to see one of the young lads from last night.
“And what do you want?” Sean took out his cigarettes and lit one.
“I didn’t realise who you were.” The young guy stood up, by Sean’s reckoning, he was late teens. “Sorry.”
“Didn’t know who I am?”
“You were with Richard Abbott weren’t you?”
“I was married to him, yes.” Sean’s eyes darkened. “And what’s it to you?”
“My brother, he was under Captain Abbott’s command. He was gutted, I’m sorry for you loss.” The boy was clumsy but Sean could see he meant what he said.
“Thank you … what’s your name, lad?”
“Charlie.”
“Thank you Charlie, it takes a lot of courage to do what you’ve done.”
“No one will bother you again.”
“And what about Viggo?” Sean asked sharply.
“I’ll see to it but he’s such a tosser.”
“Is he? How so?” There was a dangerous note in Sean’s voice.
“He talks to the plants, he’s into all that new age crap.”
“Well that doesn’t mean it’s okay for you to abuse him, lad.”
“Nah, suppose not, just it’s so fucking boring around here.”
“Language.” Sean wanted to laugh but didn’t. Anyone who knew him would have seen the twinkle in his eye. “Well find something to do.”
“Can I help you? You’re putting a new bathroom in aren’t you? Will, my brother, the one who’s in the army? He and I put a new kitchen in for my nan last year when Will was on leave. He was supposed to be home in a couple of months but he’s staying out for longer, cos of the cuts.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“If they make him redundant, we’re gonna start up our own business.”
Sean was beginning to warm to the lad.
“Tell you what, I really have to get going, but...” Charlie’s face fell. “You can come and help me, I’ll pay you a tenner an hour, I’ll feed you and you can choose the music we listen to, how does that sound.”
“Sick...” Charlie beamed. “Where shall we start?”
~~
With two pairs of hands, they got on way quicker than Sean had dared hope. Charlie was a good worker, he learned quickly and Sean soon found he only had to tell the lad something once and he’d get it. Sean arranged for him to come back tomorrow and the day after until the bathroom was finished. It was only after they were done for the day that he remembered he’d promised to go up to the Manor. Shit. He realised he couldn’t call Viggo. Didn’t have his number. And it was late now, he was tired. Tomorrow. He’d go up tomorrow.
After dinner, Sean sat on his doorstep, where he’d found Charlie, and wished, wished with all his heart that Richard was here. He would have loved doing the renovations, he would have contradicted every decision Sean made, then just as Sean was on the verge of losing his temper, he’d give in with great grace and very sweet smile.
Sitting there, drinking tea and smoking a final cigarette, Sean could see his life spread out ahead of him, a Richard-less existence and all the feelings of loss, of excruciating sadness washed over him again. He wept for the life he’d had and lost, the life they’d planned together and for the way his husband’s life had been so cruelly extinguishedf.
(tbc)
Author : dalehead
Pairing : VigBean
Rating : NC-17: For adult themes of a non sexual kind
Summary: Sean is in mourning.
A/N : For readers of VigBean - this is all made up
A/N 2: There death beneath the cut, but neither of the main protagonists.
For laura_iskra and caras_galadhon
The autumn storms that year were the worse in living memory. Every night for a month, or so it seemed, the village, indeed the county, was battered by strong winds and driving rains.
For a month, Sean was holed up in his cottage and as he saw it, there was a choice. Either he did nothing and sat around feeling sorry for himself, or he put a new kitchen and bathroom in. He had already decided what he wanted, had sourced suppliers. It was a no brainer.
“Sean...” Viggo was in the pub when Sean came in. “Christ man, what on earth have you been doing.”
“Plumbing in the new bathroom and I’ve opened a whole can of worms. I have no water, I need more piping and I can’t get it till tomorrow.” He grinned. “I hope I don’t smell.”
“You could come for a shower at my place?” Viggo offered.
“No thanks, I mean,” Sean realised he’d sounded a bit brusque. “I can manage. There is plenty of other stuff I can do and as I don;’t sleep much these days, I can be getting on with what needs to be done.”
“Well if you change your mind...” Viggo smiled.
“Thanks and now, can I get you a drink? Sean was determined to show Viggo that he wasn’t always weeping and wailing all over the place.
“I’ve got one, thanks though.”
Sean frowned. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, fine.” Viggo’s smile didn’t reach his eyes though and Sean hoped it was nothing he’d done.
“What’s up?” His eyebrow arched. “I know there’s something. I’m not blind.”
“It’s nothing, I’m worried about the Manor, that’s all.”
“Why? What’s up?”
“I thought you were going to volunteer.” Viggo countered.
“I am, but not in this weather, as soon as it improves I’ll be there to start the heavy digging, in the meantime I’m doing the work on the cottage.”
“There are a whole lot of slates off the roof. It’s going to cost a fortune to get a roofer to put them back.”
“I could have a look at it, it you like.” Sean added quickly. “When the weather improves.”
“Thanks Sean but we need a specialist.”
“Bollocks, I’ve put my own roof on before, I’ve done thatch too, come to that.” He picked up his pint and drank thirstily. “May I have another, George?” He called to the barman.
“You’ve done roofing before?”
“Yep.”
“Really Sean?”
“We bought a plot of land with an old barn on it, did it up ourselves. I learned all sorts of things when I fought in Bosnia. Actually I have some very basic basic medical skills, I could stitch you up, I can even perform simple surgery in the middle of a skirmish.” Sean grinned for a moment then his face faltered.
Whatever Viggo was going to say was lost when a crowd of lads barged into the pub.
They were obviously drunk; loud to boot. They bought some drinks and made Josie the barmaid’s eyes glint angrily.
“Who are they?”
“Local ruffians. Normally they behave in here but George has popped out so they are in to make a bit of trouble.”
“Oi … Faggot...” One of the lads, tall and dark haired, looked over at them.
Sean stood up. Anyone who knew Sean knew what a gentle man he was. But he hadn’t served overseas in some of the bloodiest trouble spots in the world for nothing.
“Are you talking to me?” He exuded menace, his green eyes usually so kind or sad, now glittered angrily. There was an air about him, an undercurrent of something violent, something dangerous.
The lad stepped back.
“No? Well I suggest you finish your drinks quickly and get out.” He snarled and the lads were taking no chances. They left their barely touched drinks and hurried away, muttering darkly.
“You wanna be careful.” A guy about Sean’s age said, a worried frown on his face. “They’ll get you for that.”
“Let them try.” Sean grinned. “Unless one of them carries a Kalashnikov I’m not really worried.
Viggo frowned; Sean looked at him. “What?
“Nothing...”
“If you think I’m going to sit back and let some arsehole call me names...”
“He wasn’t calling you names, he was calling me names.”
“Well if you think I’m going to sit back and let some arsehole call you names, you’ve another think coming.” Sean was glaring.
“Supposing they come back?”
“If they come back I’ll knock their blocks off.” Sean picked up his pint.
The ease of the evening had gone though. Sean finished his drink quickly. “Wind’s got up.” He remarked. “Again.”
“Yeah.” Viggo sighed. “Will we ever get some dry weather?”
“Hope so.” Sean got ready to leave. “I’ll come up to the Manor tomorrow, have a look if you like, though why you’re so worried about it I don’t know. The National Trust will sort it won’t they?”
“Because …” Viggo shrugged. “I do.”
“Fair enough.” Shrugging on his coat, Sean clapped him on the shoulder. “I’ll be up about 11, I gotta go to the builders’ yard for supplies first.
“See you then... “ It seemed to Sean that Viggo wanted to say something. But nothing came out.
It was a filthy night, the wind was whistling through the trees and it was tippling down. Sean had his wits about him and was ready and waiting for the the group of lads thought they were about to catch Sean unawares. They were sadly mistaken. The first one who tried to jump on him found himself dispatched and laying on the muddy ground within seconds. Sean picked him up by his jacket.
The other boys stood back.
“Don’t fuck with me.” He spoke perfectly pleasantly. “I’ve fought in Bosnia, in Iraq and with Somalian pirates, so back off and don’t let us meet like this again.”
His point had been made. The boys did exactly as he’d said and backed off. Sean smiled to himself and went on his way. He almost jumped out of his skin when he heard his name called.
“Sean? Sean?” He turned and there was Viggo walking towards him, and drenched to the skin by the look of him.
“Jesus, what happened to you?”
“I started home and then came after you, I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“Well I’m fine, c’mon, come back with me, though I should warn you, I’ve no water, remember?”
“Doesn’t seem to bother you much.” Viggo smiled, despite his chattering teeth.
That decided Sean. “Save your breath for walking or better still jogging, if you can manage.”
“Oi, cheeky bastard.” Viggo called as Sean begun a gentle trot back to the cottage. His idea was for Viggo to warm up before the cold seeped in too deep. He was pleased to notice Viggo kept up with him easily. Pleased that he was as fit as Sean had thought when they first met. He realised he was thinking about Viggo in a way that both exited and scared him. He wasn’t ready, it was too soon.
They arrived back at the cottage and Sean put more coal on the fire.
“I didn’t realise Rose Cottage had a fireplace that still worked.” Viggo crouched as near as he could. “It’s beautiful.”
“I just took off the boards and swept the chimney.”
“You swept the chimney?”
“Yeah, well how hard do you think it is? I got a broom and tied it to a pole, the washing pole for my washing line and stuck it up, made a helluv mess.”
“No shit?” Viggo rolled his eyes. “That must have come as something of a surprise.”
Sean laughed. A proper laugh.
“No, well yes, actually yes, but it didn’t take long to ….” He broke off. “Why are you staring at me?”
“I …” Viggo shrugged. “Just I don’t think I’ve seen you laugh before, it took me by surprise.”
The atmosphere in the room changed. Sean was overcome with some many conflicting emotions, he felt dizzy with it. “I’ll make tea.”
“I didn’t think you had water?
“I don’t, but I bought some bottled stuff, you stay here, get warm. You want something to eat?”
“I’m starving.”
“Sandwiches, you’re not a … veggie? Are you?”
Viggo laughed. “No Sean, I am not a veggie, I am a tree hugger but a tree hugger who eats meat.”
“Good, because I’ve got some cold pork in the fridge, be right back.”
Once he’d got something to do, he felt better. After all, he wasn’t doing anything wrong which didn’t explain why he felt so guilty, as if he was. But he made the sandwiches, great doorstep pieces of bread with thick slices of pork inbetween them, a liberal helping of chutney to liven it up. He put the kettle on and leaned against the counter, deep in thought. Do you want some bread with that pork? He could hear his husband’s beloved voice in his head. He smiled, got on with the tea.
When he got back to the living room, Viggo was curled up on the couch, snoring gently. Sean rolled his eyes. He put the plate down and quietly fetched a spare blanket from the bedroom, then he took tea back to the kitchen, put it on the tray with his own and his food, took the whole lot upstairs and after he’d eaten and drunk, he went to bed. He decided not to think any more that night.
~~
It was late when Sean awoke, late by his standards. Hitherto, he’d been up and around at 5 but this morning it was a quarter past six before he got out of bed. Viggo had gone, of course he had, but Sean noticed the sandwich had been eaten and the plate was in the sink. He sat on the couch. It was still a little warm. He laid down where Viggo had been sleeping, feeling Viggo’s body warmth. He stayed there until all that was left was the memory of another man’s presence. Then he got up, it was time to get going.
What Sean needed for now was hard physical work. It looked like the weather had finally improved, as if the storms had blown themselves out in a last hallo. The sun was shining as Sean drove down to the builders merchant.
It was still shining when he arrived home with all his supplies plus extra. He was very surprised to see one of the young lads from last night.
“And what do you want?” Sean took out his cigarettes and lit one.
“I didn’t realise who you were.” The young guy stood up, by Sean’s reckoning, he was late teens. “Sorry.”
“Didn’t know who I am?”
“You were with Richard Abbott weren’t you?”
“I was married to him, yes.” Sean’s eyes darkened. “And what’s it to you?”
“My brother, he was under Captain Abbott’s command. He was gutted, I’m sorry for you loss.” The boy was clumsy but Sean could see he meant what he said.
“Thank you … what’s your name, lad?”
“Charlie.”
“Thank you Charlie, it takes a lot of courage to do what you’ve done.”
“No one will bother you again.”
“And what about Viggo?” Sean asked sharply.
“I’ll see to it but he’s such a tosser.”
“Is he? How so?” There was a dangerous note in Sean’s voice.
“He talks to the plants, he’s into all that new age crap.”
“Well that doesn’t mean it’s okay for you to abuse him, lad.”
“Nah, suppose not, just it’s so fucking boring around here.”
“Language.” Sean wanted to laugh but didn’t. Anyone who knew him would have seen the twinkle in his eye. “Well find something to do.”
“Can I help you? You’re putting a new bathroom in aren’t you? Will, my brother, the one who’s in the army? He and I put a new kitchen in for my nan last year when Will was on leave. He was supposed to be home in a couple of months but he’s staying out for longer, cos of the cuts.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“If they make him redundant, we’re gonna start up our own business.”
Sean was beginning to warm to the lad.
“Tell you what, I really have to get going, but...” Charlie’s face fell. “You can come and help me, I’ll pay you a tenner an hour, I’ll feed you and you can choose the music we listen to, how does that sound.”
“Sick...” Charlie beamed. “Where shall we start?”
~~
With two pairs of hands, they got on way quicker than Sean had dared hope. Charlie was a good worker, he learned quickly and Sean soon found he only had to tell the lad something once and he’d get it. Sean arranged for him to come back tomorrow and the day after until the bathroom was finished. It was only after they were done for the day that he remembered he’d promised to go up to the Manor. Shit. He realised he couldn’t call Viggo. Didn’t have his number. And it was late now, he was tired. Tomorrow. He’d go up tomorrow.
After dinner, Sean sat on his doorstep, where he’d found Charlie, and wished, wished with all his heart that Richard was here. He would have loved doing the renovations, he would have contradicted every decision Sean made, then just as Sean was on the verge of losing his temper, he’d give in with great grace and very sweet smile.
Sitting there, drinking tea and smoking a final cigarette, Sean could see his life spread out ahead of him, a Richard-less existence and all the feelings of loss, of excruciating sadness washed over him again. He wept for the life he’d had and lost, the life they’d planned together and for the way his husband’s life had been so cruelly extinguishedf.
(tbc)