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Flying With Eagles	By : Zar Category: Individual Celebrities > Orlando Bloom Views: 10191 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know Orlando Bloom. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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Title: Flying with Eagles
Author: Zar
Email: squishypiglet@hotmail.co.uk
LJ: http://www.livejournal.com/users/squishypiglet/
Warnings: This is slash. Don't like it? Don't read it!
Pairings: Viggorli with special guest Eric Bana.
Disclaimer: This is not true, despite all my wishes.
Summary: Viggo makes a medical discovery…

"What? Another chapter?" you all scream. "No way!"
Well, yes, it's true. And why? You can all thank one amazing woman for that. My very very fav Deb, ramothsown. She's the fantastic woman who adopted me as one of her own and I couldn't thank her more. She cares about me when I am not there, cuddles me, and always always has time for me.

I dedicated the last chapter to her and all the other people who care about me, but then I thought back of her yesterday and all her emails to me, her kind words and just the fact that she can make me feel less alone in the world, she deserves much more than that.

So here it is, a chapter all for her. Took me two days to write, and this one really drew blood this time with the time frame I set myself to write this in, come on guys, two days between chapters! That's near UNHEARD OF for me! But this is the least I can do back for her, and I hope she likes this. You bring tears to my eyes too, Deb, when I read your emails.

This is for you.

Note: I am not a doctor, and haven't studied medicine. I did the best I could with resources found on the internet, so I hope you'll forgive me if things don't completely follow regular hospital protocol and practices. I did what I could...and if it doesn't fit - It's FICTION!

Chapter 58

The first few weeks after what is commonly referred to as The Seizure Night were hard to deal with. I didn’t like leaving my god alone, and while he enjoyed my company, I knew he craved his freedom too. In that I wouldn’t let him out of the house without either Kurt or me with him. And it drove him out of his mind.

“I’ve lived with this problem for many years, Viggo,” he’d say, trying to persuade me, “I know what I can and can’t do.”

“Oh right,” I’d always retort, “just like that night you collapsed.”

Then the glare would come into play, “I hadn’t taken my pills that day, and you know it. That’s the only thing that caused the seizure. I am fine now.”

“Well, what if you get a seizure while you’re out, despite the pills? You don’t know that’s not going to happen.”

“I’ll be fine!”

“You don’t know that!”

And so the battle went on, until either he’d give in and go out with me tagging along, or he’d stomp his way back to our bedroom and firmly shut the door in my face.

Either way, it wasn’t a particularly pretty sight.

~~~

After a few months, and after seeing nothing traumatic happen to him, and things were going on as before, my fears subsided enough that I let Kurt leave and return to his home and resume his job at the hospital. Orlando was allowed to go out whenever he wanted, but he needed to let me know when he was leaving, where he was going, what he was doing, who he was meeting, what time he’d be back and to call me every hour.

To be fair, he put up with my (perhaps, irrational) fears rather admirably. Sometimes my nagging him to remember to take his pills was annoying, but other times he’d have a rather sappy look on his face as I, in his terms, “coddled him”. I did my best and life went on, and we eventually settled into more or less the same pattern we had going before his attack.

It was around this time, when I was most relaxed that my thoughts focused once again on a matter of a more carnal nature. Yep, call me desperate and pathetic, but while in the past, my thoughts strayed time and again to sex, now, with everything going so smoothly and less problems for me to focus on, it seemed all I could think about was sex.

Well, sex with Orlando in particular. I’ve already done a lot of ‘sex’ alone in the shower – that had also gone back to its regular routine with me fantasising about the sleek body in the bedroom next door, and jerking off, much to my chagrin.

I'd done a lot of research and reading up on epilepsy when he was first discharged from the hospital, but now I went back to it, focusing a lot more on the sex and impotency aspect. There didn’t seem to be much information regarding Orlando’s specific problem, but it can’t be that all people who suffer from epilepsy never have sex! There had to be something that I was missing. Something fundamental yet vital.

I should talk to Orlando about it…but I still can’t forget the drastic length he went to last time when he realised how badly I wanted to have sex with him, and there’s no way I am giving him reasons again to think that I am desperate, or worse, inadvertently encouraging him to either one-sidedly satisfy my needs or forego taking his medication again. I mentioned it in passing to Kurt, but as someone who knows both Orlando and I so personally, it was difficult to explain to him my needs and I gave up in embarrassment half way through.

My big break came through on a random Saturday morning, after my weekly phone call with Henry. I was sitting at the kitchen table and telling my son about the latest painting I was working on when Orlando pads in, directly heading to the refrigerator for juice.

I gesture to the phone and wave at him to be quiet and he nods, silently sliding into the seat next to me to drink his juice straight out of the carton. He had put on hideous boxers that would have looked odd on anyone else but him – considering they were brightly covered with leprechauns in a multitude of colours. “They’ll make me go blind!” I had told him when he’d first proudly shown them to me, but Orlando stoutly argues that he didn’t buy them for the pattern; they were bought because they are one hundred percent silk and he needs silk because it’s softer on his sensitive skin than cotton – or so he claims. Is that why all of his boxers are brightly coloured? People just don’t make silk monotone boxers, is that right?

I finish the call, promising to talk to Henry again next week, then turn to Orlando who has gotten up and is now digging through the fridge again.

“What are you looking for, muffin?”

“Food.”

“Hungry?”

“Always.”

He settles for an apple and brings it over with him back to where I am sitting and gracelessly plops himself into my lap.

“How’s Henry?”

“Great. Got an essay due on Monday, so he’s going to stay in this weekend and work on that.”

“Doesn’t he party? I thought all frat boys did was party, drink and meet girls.”

“I didn’t.”

“No, you must have been the nerd that lived in the library,” he taunts, chewing happily.

“Shut up, pup.” I sneak a bite of his apple and he pulls it away with a squeal. “Have you taken your medication yet this morning?”

He rolls his eyes, but I can see by the half-smile on his face that he isn’t annoyed by my reminder.

He hops up, waggling his leprechaun-covered butt at me. “Going, going…you seem to think that without you here, I am completely helpless.”

“Helpless. Completely helpless without me.”

His back tenses suddenly as he gropes among the bottles of vitamins on the shelf.

“Orlando? What’s wrong?”

“Please don’t kill me.” He turns around, eyes wide, a bottle clutched in one hand.

Immediately on my feet, I go over to him.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“I…I thought I still had one extra bottle back here, but…I apparently don’t. The last time I got my prescription re-filled was before I went to Australia with Eric!”

“What are you saying?” I grip his arm tighter than I probably should, but he better not be telling me…

“I finished the last of the pills yesterday. I am so stupid, I knew that I’d finished that bottle, but I thought there was one more here…but…”

“…there isn’t.” I finished for him, sighing. Damn, all those feelings of old come rushing back. What if he gets another attack? And after all the precautions I had taken this whole time, it might all be for nothing if he gets sick again because he hadn’t realised he’d finished the pills.

He hugs me close and shakes his head. “It’ll be okay,” he mumbles against my neck, “I’ll just call Kurt to pop by tonight and bring over some more. No problem at all. It’s easy since he’s already at the hospital.”

And that’s when the brilliant solution to my problem hit me. Hospital. Hospitals have doctors. Doctors who know about the little pills…and epilepsy…and its implications in regards to Orlando.

It isn't hard to convince my god that I would feel better if he stayed at home watching television instead of leaving the house if he hadn’t taken his pills, and I’d go off to get them for him. I took his prescription, gave him a kiss on the forehead and was soon speeding down the road with Tooters purring happily as she ambled along.

~~~

The hospital is quite crowded and I feel a little lost standing there, unsure of where to proceed to find the information I need. The nurse’s station looks to be the most obvious place, so I start there.

“Umm, hello?”

“Good morning. What can I do for you?” A kindly nurse wearing a freshly pressed uniform, stops writing in her file and looks up at me expectantly.

Okay, I should have thought this out better. I can’t just demand to see Orlando’s doctor…can I?

Standing there grasping ineffectively for words, the nurse tries to help me out. “Are you looking for someone? A patient? Or a doctor?”

That should be my in.

“Doctor. A Doctor Burke.”

She nods at me. “What is this regarding? What seems to be the problem? Is it an emergency?” She stands up and goes to the rows and rows of files, her head turned towards me, waiting for my answer.

“Umm, I have a few…medical questions to ask him. And no, it’s not an emergency.”

“Right,” she continues, “what’s your name?”

“Viggo Mortensen.”

She immediately starts rifling through the files and I have a feeling she’s going to find that my name isn’t there.

“It’s not for me.” I cut in hurriedly.

“Oh?” She looks confused and starts to walk back over towards me. “What is this about?”

“A…a personal matter.” Talk about embarrassing.

She pauses.

“I mean, I need to ask him something about another patient.”

“Another patient?” she echoes. “There are patient-doctor confidentiality laws – ”

“It’s okay,” I hastily add, “I am family. The patient is my…my nephew.” Is that close enough to family?

“Your nephew…”

“Yes, he’s Dr Burke’s patient, and I just need to ask him a few questions about the pills he’s prescribed my nephew. I need to renew this, but I wanted to talk to him about it first. Won’t take too long.” As if to vouch for my story, I take out Orlando’s prescription and show it to her.

She scans over it quickly, then casts me another contemplative look as if she’s reading my intentions. The smile on my face is becoming a little forced, but then she relaxes and nods.

“Shouldn’t be a problem. Just take a seat and I’ll let you know when he’s ready to see you, Mr Mortensen.”

And that was that.

~~~

“Ahh, yes, come on in,” I am greeted as I enter a typical doctor’s office and I sit down in front of his desk. His office is rather non-descript and nothing sets it apart. It looks really sterile and lifeless, but what else do you expect from a hospital?

Dr Burke takes a seat, gives the file in front of him a quick glance. “You’re Orlando’s uncle, are you? Right. What are you here for today?”

In all of that, he’s never looked up at me once, and his tone is impatient. I don’t like him anymore than I did the other night.

“Orlando needs to fill his prescription.”

I reach over to hand him the sheet of paper, but he shakes his head briskly at me.

“No need, I already have all his details on file.” He finally looks up and takes a good look at me. “This is new; Orlando usually has either Kurt or his good friend Mr Bana run errands for him.”

His tone is disparaging and I see no reason for it.

“…Eric?”

“Eric, yes, that was his name. Orlando’s friend,” he sneered and I tense up.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Are you not aware, Mr Mortensen? I would have thought you’d know, as Orlando’s uncle.”

This doesn’t sound good.

“Aware of what, exactly?”

He leaned closer toward me and his next words made the breath catch in my throat. “They never really said anything to me, but I could tell those two were…you know.”

You know…? I should have expected something like this, but I couldn’t think of a single thing to say faced with such blatant discrimination.

He must have mistaken my expression for shock because he keeps talking. “You’re the first relative of his that I’ve seen, and I feel it’s my duty to recommend a good church or therapist for…his kind. He shouldn’t be allowed to carry on with his ‘ways’ for as long as he has without proper guidance, but clearly, Mr Bana was too much in lust with that boy’s body to think properly. Though,” he smiled proudly at me and I couldn’t help instinctively recoiling away, “you’ll be pleased to know that I did do my best to help him.”

I swallowed hard, almost afraid to ask what I had to. “Help him how?”

“Well, I made sure they could no longer sin.”

“Sin,” I repeat, stunned.

“Yes. I saved your nephew, Mr Mortensen.” I would love nothing more than to reach over and smack that smug little smile off of his face.

I tilt my head back slightly, resting it against the head rest. I suddenly feel so tired. “What did you do?” I whisper.

Although it was rhetorical, the doctor takes it as a question and he nods at the prescription still lying in my lap.

“I saved him from himself. I helped him abstain from fleshly lust.”

My hands clench of their own accord into fists and I breathe in deeply. I can’t listen to anymore. I am going to be the bigger man here and walk away.

Awkwardly, anger and disbelief still running hotly through my veins, I gather myself and stand, making sure to pull Orlando’s file away from the narrow-minded bigot and taking it with me.

“Mr Mortensen?” comes the confused voice from behind me as I open the door to leave.

I turn around and face the man who tortured my god for years and denied both of us an act that could only ever be described as giving, loving and…right. Who was he to decide…who was he to do such a thing? Who does he think he is?

“Your nephew…?” he prompts, suddenly uncertain as he notices my white-clenched hand gripping the door knob.

“…is no longer your concern. We’ll be getting a second opinion and your views are no longer required. You’d do well to keep them to yourself.”

I watch as his mouth opens and closes, words eluding him as they did me earlier, and it gives me great pleasure to deliver the scathing parting shot as the door slams behind me.

“Oh, and he’s not my damn nephew, thank god. Otherwise it’d be known as incest, wouldn’t it?”

~~~

I soon find myself in another non-descript doctor’s office, but there are two significant differences. One, Kurt is sitting beside me, and two, the doctor facing us, although older than ‘Burke the Jerk’, has an understanding smile on his face as he patiently listens to my story. I immediately felt at ease when I met him and it was easy to trust him.

“…so here I am.” I finish, gesturing to him.

The elderly doctor rubs tiredly at his temples. “We’ve all known that Tim…had strong views on things, but none of us realised how far he’d gone to force them on others. Trust me, action will be taken against this grave malpractice and I’ll do all that I can to help you with your situation.”

He took a few minutes to read through Orlando’s file, asking Kurt for clarification on points that weren’t clear.

“Let me see what he’s got Orlando on now…” he mutters, flipping through the pages, and I remember the sheet of paper still scrunched in my hand.

“Oh, here’s the prescription.” I hand it over and watch as he raises his eyebrows.

“Ahh, yes. I see what he did. This anti-epileptic drug, although effective, has been proven…how can I say this… “

“To lower interest in sexual activities?” Kurt cuts in with a chuckle.

“Simply put, yes. This one in particular has a direct effect on the testes, and therefore causes a drop in testosterone levels which in Orlando’s case, lowered his sex drive and as you described, made it difficult for him to get an erection.”

“So all of the sex problems are linked to his medication?”

It can’t be this simple.

“From what I see in his file and what I heard from Kurt, yes. We just need to find the right combination of medication for him, and there should be no problem – many other people affected by epilepsy need to try different AEDs before finding the one which suits their body and needs. There’s one that is aimed at men who are suffer these side effects and is the alternative I would recommend to Orlando. If this one doesn’t work, there are others, but I am reasonably certain this is the one for us.”

Or maybe it really is that simple.

~~~

The significance of what I discovered doesn’t really hit me until I am half way home and contentedly bobbing my head to the song on the radio.

The bottle sitting next to me? The one with the little blue pills which jump every time Tooters hits a bump on the road?

They’re going to open a whole new world for my god and me.

I am going to be able to make love to him.

Finally.

Tonight.

TBC...

Damn, I've kind of cornered myself into writing an NC-17 scene, huh? But you've all been waiting patiently for 58 chapters in over a year, so I think it's about time!

Maybe you'll get that chapter in 6 months! Hahaha...joking, joking!!

Wonder how many of you got that twist with the pills? I sort of made it clear in the previous chapters that Dr Burke wasn't a nice guy, but I didn't explain. Some of you got REALLY close (that's you, bonbon!!) by saying that Orli should change his medication, but now you all know the reasons why.

Thank you to all you reviewers. You're part of the reason I updated so quickly, knowing you're still reading and enjoying this!
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Flying With Eagles