| Title: Fractured Authors: Jo & Brenda Pairing: Karl Urban/Orlando Bloom Rating: NC17 Summary: Need finally outweighs consequence Disclaimer: Um...no. And, um...no. Never happened. Author's Notes: Yes, Brenda is evil. Jo loves her anyway. Inspired in part, by Cas' wonderful "Where We Are" fic series & a discussion about different OTPs with Lobelia from a long time back.
"Viggo!" Orlando came half to his feet, halting when Karl lifted a hand, the other going to his jaw. "No, Orlando," Karl said, rubbing his jaw and eyeing Viggo. "Feel better now?" "Not quite." Viggo hit Karl again, this time a bit harder, sending him sprawling on the linoleum. "Vig...stop it!" "Orlando, stay out of this." Viggo's voice was a snarl, as he stalked to Karl, hauled him up to his feet. "Go ahead," Karl said, voice soft as his hands closed around Viggo's wrists. "Aren't you going to do something?" Harry looked at Orlando, stared at him as if he'd just suddenly appeared. Then his eyes went back to Karl and Viggo, and he could tell by Karl's expression what he was doing, what he was trying to do. Harry wasn't so sure it would work. Not this time. "Harry? Do something!" "No." He watched in silent fascination as Viggo delivered another punch to Karl's ribs, sent him sprawling back on the floor. "Don't think that I'm quite finished," Viggo panted, eyes narrowing. "But I'm done with you for the moment." He whirled to Orlando, pinned him with a gaze filled with something beyond heartbreak. It would have shattered Harry, if he'd had any emotion left to shatter. "Why?" Orlando licked his lips and shrugged, the gesture impossibly young. "Why does anything like this happen?" "Leave him alone, Vig," Karl wheezed, pushing to his feet, glaring at Viggo. Oh, good. So he was going to display some emotion after all. Harry just continued to watch, still silent, still unmoving. "Karl..." "No, Orlando," Karl said, holding his ribs with one hand. "I'm the one who kept pushing him. I'm the one who couldn't just walk away and leave it alone." Harry could just feel the knife twisting inside him. He stared, couldn't have formed words if his life had depended on it when those hazel eyes met his. "I'm sorry." "Don't do this." Orlando turned back to Viggo, set his shoulders. "I could have stopped him. I pursued this just as much as he did." Didn't want to hear this...hearing made it real. All too easy to imagine the dance and sway, the two of them getting closer and closer with each turn. All too easy to twist every not-so-innocent word and gesture into a foreplay that culminated in the fracturing of Harry's heart. "And why couldn't you say anything?" "Because saying would have made it real," Orlando replied, his sad gaze still on Viggo. "And neither one of us wanted it to be real." "Until last night, it wasn't real." Karl dropped heavily into his chair, leaning forward, putting his head in his hands. "I didn't want this to happen. Orlando didn't want this to happen." "But it did." Harry was startled by his own voice, but he didn't move. No, still way too frozen for that. All he could do was watch. "But it did," Karl repeated, voice low, head still in his hands. He didn't look up, didn't look at any of them. "So, now what?" Good question. Harry didn't even want to think of the answer. He had only to look around this room, this cozy kitchen, to see the shattered pieces of a life built together, of a relationship built on love and trust and a thousand tiny details that wove together a fabric of a life. All of it ripped apart in an instant. "I don't know, Vig," Orlando answered. "I'm sorry." "Like that means anything." Viggo raked his hand through his hair, shook his head. "I gave you everything I had. Everything." "I know." "Vig...Harry...we didn't mean for this to happen." Karl looked up, his eyes moving from one to the other, a bruise rapidly forming on his jaw. "We didn't mean to fall in..." Harry froze again. Didn't need to hear the end of that sentence. He already knew. And he wondered why it still didn't hurt yet. "I don't want to hear it." Thankfully, Viggo interrupted. "I don't want to hear any of it." He turned back to Orlando. "I just want you out of my house by the time I get back." Harry watched in silence as Viggo left the room. "Well," he said, leaning against the counter. "That went over well." "Harry, I..." "Save it, Orlando. I know. You're sorry." Harry waved him off, looked at the man he'd called his friend without a shred of emotion. "And I'm sure you are. But not sorry enough." Karl stood, raked his hands through his hair. "Harry, don't. Please." "Don't?" How ironic that Karl could use that word now, when he'd obviously not used it much in the past year. "Please?" "I..." Karl paused, seemed to be trying to collect his thoughts. Then he looked straight at Harry, didn't flinch away from his gaze. "I never meant to hurt you. Ever." "And yet you fucked one of my friends in my house." Karl didn't even flinch. Harry had to hand it to him. "It wasn't..." "Don't lie." Orlando's soft voice cut through the room, cracking the ice surrounding Harry's heart. "It was exactly like that. That's exactly what happened." "Orlando..." Harry cut Karl off before he could get more than Orlando's name out. Didn't want to hear that voice just now. "So you're saying that you threw away your relationship with Viggo for a quick fuck?" Had to admit, he was impressed. Orlando was either a better actor than he'd credited him for...or he was a hell of a lot colder than anyone imagined. "That's all this was?" Karl tried again. "Harry..." "No, that's not all it was." Orlando didn't move, didn't break his gaze away from Harry. "But, it would make you feel better." "What would make me feel better would be to have my life back. Don't think that's going to happen, though. Do you?" "Stop, please," Karl said, finally stepping between them. "Nothing is going to change what happened." Harry said nothing, just shifted as he leaned against the counter. He didn't want it changed. He wanted it *erased*, wanted it to have never happened. Again, he wondered when it would start to hurt. "The question now," Karl continued, not looking at either of them, "is where do we go from here?" "Did you not think about that?" "Not really, no. We just..." Orlando sighed, sank back into his chair. "We were just tired of lying." Tired of lying. Harry supposed they'd also been tired of not sleeping together. Well, they'd certainly taken care of that one. "Tell me you didn't fuck him in our bed." Karl's head snapped around, his eyes stark in his pale face. "No, I didn't," he said in a strained voice. "I'm not a completely insensitive bastard." "Well that's a relief to know." Harry could hear the faint sarcasm coloring his words, and hated it. Hated it almost as much as he hated this entire fucking mess. "Look, we're not going to solve anything right now." Orlando raked a hand across his scalp. "Why don't we just...?" "There is no 'we', Orlando," Harry interrupted, every word carefully enunciated. "You two took care of that." "You're right." Orlando sighed, and stood again. "I should go anyway. I need to...yeah, well, anyway. I should go." Karl looked at Orlando, seemed to hesitate. Harry promised himself that he wouldn't react if Karl went to the other man. He wouldn't. "Harry," Karl said, soft voice catching Harry's attention once more. "Do you want me to stay, or should I go with Orlando?" "Karl..." Orlando trailed off, eyes wide, when Karl made a small gesture. "A pity you didn't ask me this yesterday." And now, *finally*, it was starting to hurt. Little cracks were spider-webbing throughout Harry's body, allowing a thousand tiny shards of pain inside. Fuck, but he hadn't wanted this. Had wanted to stay numb forever. "You should stay." Orlando looked back and forth between the both of them. Harry could have told him not to bother. There was no reason for Karl to stay. None at all. "You weren't here yesterday," Karl said in a low voice. He sighed, dragged his fingers through his hair again. Harry felt his own fingers itch to rake through those dark strands and...oh. That hurt. The image of Orlando's fingers running through Karl's hair flashed in front of his eyes, and he almost gasped from the pain. "I...I'll have my things out by tomorrow." Karl's voice was barely audible as he turned, started out of the kitchen. And Harry watched as Orlando's hand touched Karl's arm and stopped him there, in the doorway. Karl shook his head slightly. "Not right now." "You will need to do it, though." Karl nodded, brushed his hand against Orlando's. Harry felt the pain of that simple contact down to his blood. "I know." "I presume he's not talking about moving your things out," Harry said, pushing away from the counter and walking to the window. He couldn't look at them standing there, touching each other, looking at each other. There was a long, drawn out silence behind him, but Harry refused to turn around. No. He wasn't going to do it, wasn't going to give in to the urge to look at Karl standing there, battered and tired. "I'll be back later. Get my stuff. Talk." Harry waited another few minutes after the door had shut to turn around. The sudden silence...the emptiness...mocked him. "Fuck..." He finally gave into the urge to sink to the floor.
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