An Interlude (continuation of A Praise Chorus).
Title: Goodbye and Goodnight
Author: Caiden // varietyshow
Rating: PG-13 // The odd factor. You'll understand once you read it.
Pairings: Domlijah.
Summary: In the space between life and death we dream.
A/N: This is very much an experimental piece. I took a lot of artistic license as far as using italics and sentence structure goes. I personally think it adds to the piece, however.
This is NOT the sequel to A Praise Chorus! This is like the half-time show, only minus the partial nudity and plus the creepyness.
If you're looking for the same touching, poetic vibe that you got from the first installment, you WILL be disappointed. This is more blunt, and definitely much more abstract. However, a lot of the illusions created here are very important, so pay close attention.
The large gaps of space between sections of text mark, if this were a short film, what would be a different shot. Not too confusing, I hope.
You MUST read A Praise Chorus before reading this, or you won't understand. I will most likely not explain it to you.
Goodbye and Goodnight
Go To Sleep, Little Baby
The doctor had told Dom, before they left the hospital one week ago, that things would be different. Way to state the obvious, he’d thought at the time. But now… now he knew what the doctor meant.
When the doctor had said “things”, he’d actually meant “Elijah”. This was typical, of course. You can’t hold one person in charge of completely rebuilding someone’s character, and you definitely can’t expect them to get it perfectly right. Dom was going to try, though. He’d been defied, but not defeated.
So far he’s done a good job, but there are some things he’s had to compromise on. Elijah now talks in his sleep. Elijah had never talked in his sleep before. At first it wasn’t so bad, because it was just mumbling that Dom could tune out. Either that or he’d lay his ear down close to Elijah’s neck and would use the vibrations from his voice box to lull himself to sleep.
But then he started listening.
“Crosses hundreds black walk through them quickly and fog and mallet and seagull,” Elijah says.
Dom wraps his arm tighter around Elijah’s stomach.
“Doll.”
Dom rolls his closed eyes and shifts slightly, aligning their hips better.
“No eyes.”
He pulls the covers up further. It’s getting cold.
“Doll no eyes and hundreds black quick walk quick the fog and seagull hit with mallet doll doll doll no eyes no doll no eyes quick fast quick fog doll no eyes.”
Dom can’t take it anymore. He gets up and heads into the main room, feeling guiltier and guiltier with each step. He shouldn’t, because he knows Elijah is perfectly capable of sleeping on his own-at least for one night-but as Dom lays down on the red couch and turns the TV on and to Comedy Central, he feels selfish.
Fifteen minutes into his show, Dom feels an overpowering need to check on Elijah. Just to make sure he’s not having a really bad dream, he constitutes. He wraps a blanket around himself and pads back into the bedroom. When he opens the door, cautiously expecting the worst, his fears are denied. Elijah lies on his side exactly how Dom had left him, the covers pulled up to his chin. Dom sighs and turns back around.
“Dom.”
He’s frozen.
“Dom, something for you.”
Turning slowly.
“Present. Dom.”
Clutching blanket.
“Love you, Dom. Present for Dom. Something for Dom.”
Eyes closed.
“Dom.”
Eyes open.
“Doll. No eyes.”
Almost gag.
“Love you, Dom.”
Run to bathroom. Disregard blanket.
Dom splashes cold water over his face for five minutes straight. He’s mentally, emotionally, and physically exhausted. Every night before he falls asleep and every morning before he wakes up he wonders if Elijah is going insane. Most of the time he doesn’t even consciously think it; it just happens.
Dom tries not to sleep.
It’s three in the morning and Dom has an interview to do the next day. Billy is taking Elijah to some of his favourite music venues while Dom is out, and Dom is so grateful to him for keeping up his end of the deal.
“Well, you should start thinking of ways you can help him along. Show him pictures, let him watch the movies he’s been in. Tell him every story you can remember. And I’ll help, too. We’ll all help, I’m sure.”
Dom sighed. “Thanks Bill. You’ll always be my best mate, you know.”
Billy smiled. “You’re such an idiot, Dom.”
Memories pull Dom into sleep.
Dom walks through the hallways of the hospital, and everything looks exactly the same. Except the lighting. It’s too well lit; the patients roaming the corridors look slightly reminiscent of angels.
Dom isn’t sure where exactly he’s going, but his feet seem to know, so he obliges to their will and blindly lets them carry him to his destination, wherever that may be. He stops in front of a doorway, or at least, a space where a door should be. He steps inside.
Two boys lie on a bed: one young and one old. Not too old, but old enough in comparison to the younger.
The younger boy is drawing. He’s writing with red ink on black construction paper and Dom wonders if the child knows his drawing won’t turn out.
The older boy is lying on his back, touching his hip gingerly. Dom feels he should recognize at least one of the two, but he can’t seem to place their faces.
He looks around helplessly, wondering why he’s here. That’s when they both turn to look at him-sort of. Their eyes are closed. Dom swallows and asks, “What’re you drawing?” to the young boy.
“You’ll see when I’m done,” he responds.
“He’s an artist,” the older boy jokes. The pieces click together and Dom recognizes Elijah now. He walks closer-not too close-and sees the spot where Elijah’s touching. His tattoo. Dom knows that spot well.
“Does it hurt?” Dom asks. Elijah pats it again.
“No. I just don’t know what it is. A bruise, maybe? Pretty weird for a bruise-“
“It’s a tattoo,” Dom says and rolls up his shirtsleeve. “I have one too, see?” But when he looks down at his arm the tattoo is gone. Looking back up again, he sees it on Elijah’s arm instead.
“What-“
“I’m done!” the young boy announces.
“Wait-“
“I drew a couch!”
Dom looks, but all he sees is a piano. The two boys raise their eyelids.
“No eyes,” Elijah whispers before falling into a silent slumber.
Author: Caiden // varietyshow
Rating: PG-13 // The odd factor. You'll understand once you read it.
Pairings: Domlijah.
Summary: In the space between life and death we dream.
A/N: This is very much an experimental piece. I took a lot of artistic license as far as using italics and sentence structure goes. I personally think it adds to the piece, however.
This is NOT the sequel to A Praise Chorus! This is like the half-time show, only minus the partial nudity and plus the creepyness.
If you're looking for the same touching, poetic vibe that you got from the first installment, you WILL be disappointed. This is more blunt, and definitely much more abstract. However, a lot of the illusions created here are very important, so pay close attention.
The large gaps of space between sections of text mark, if this were a short film, what would be a different shot. Not too confusing, I hope.
You MUST read A Praise Chorus before reading this, or you won't understand. I will most likely not explain it to you.
Goodbye and Goodnight
Go To Sleep, Little Baby
The doctor had told Dom, before they left the hospital one week ago, that things would be different. Way to state the obvious, he’d thought at the time. But now… now he knew what the doctor meant.
When the doctor had said “things”, he’d actually meant “Elijah”. This was typical, of course. You can’t hold one person in charge of completely rebuilding someone’s character, and you definitely can’t expect them to get it perfectly right. Dom was going to try, though. He’d been defied, but not defeated.
So far he’s done a good job, but there are some things he’s had to compromise on. Elijah now talks in his sleep. Elijah had never talked in his sleep before. At first it wasn’t so bad, because it was just mumbling that Dom could tune out. Either that or he’d lay his ear down close to Elijah’s neck and would use the vibrations from his voice box to lull himself to sleep.
But then he started listening.
“Crosses hundreds black walk through them quickly and fog and mallet and seagull,” Elijah says.
Dom wraps his arm tighter around Elijah’s stomach.
“Doll.”
Dom rolls his closed eyes and shifts slightly, aligning their hips better.
“No eyes.”
He pulls the covers up further. It’s getting cold.
“Doll no eyes and hundreds black quick walk quick the fog and seagull hit with mallet doll doll doll no eyes no doll no eyes quick fast quick fog doll no eyes.”
Dom can’t take it anymore. He gets up and heads into the main room, feeling guiltier and guiltier with each step. He shouldn’t, because he knows Elijah is perfectly capable of sleeping on his own-at least for one night-but as Dom lays down on the red couch and turns the TV on and to Comedy Central, he feels selfish.
Fifteen minutes into his show, Dom feels an overpowering need to check on Elijah. Just to make sure he’s not having a really bad dream, he constitutes. He wraps a blanket around himself and pads back into the bedroom. When he opens the door, cautiously expecting the worst, his fears are denied. Elijah lies on his side exactly how Dom had left him, the covers pulled up to his chin. Dom sighs and turns back around.
“Dom.”
He’s frozen.
“Dom, something for you.”
Turning slowly.
“Present. Dom.”
Clutching blanket.
“Love you, Dom. Present for Dom. Something for Dom.”
Eyes closed.
“Dom.”
Eyes open.
“Doll. No eyes.”
Almost gag.
“Love you, Dom.”
Run to bathroom. Disregard blanket.
Dom splashes cold water over his face for five minutes straight. He’s mentally, emotionally, and physically exhausted. Every night before he falls asleep and every morning before he wakes up he wonders if Elijah is going insane. Most of the time he doesn’t even consciously think it; it just happens.
Dom tries not to sleep.
It’s three in the morning and Dom has an interview to do the next day. Billy is taking Elijah to some of his favourite music venues while Dom is out, and Dom is so grateful to him for keeping up his end of the deal.
“Well, you should start thinking of ways you can help him along. Show him pictures, let him watch the movies he’s been in. Tell him every story you can remember. And I’ll help, too. We’ll all help, I’m sure.”
Dom sighed. “Thanks Bill. You’ll always be my best mate, you know.”
Billy smiled. “You’re such an idiot, Dom.”
Memories pull Dom into sleep.
Dom walks through the hallways of the hospital, and everything looks exactly the same. Except the lighting. It’s too well lit; the patients roaming the corridors look slightly reminiscent of angels.
Dom isn’t sure where exactly he’s going, but his feet seem to know, so he obliges to their will and blindly lets them carry him to his destination, wherever that may be. He stops in front of a doorway, or at least, a space where a door should be. He steps inside.
Two boys lie on a bed: one young and one old. Not too old, but old enough in comparison to the younger.
The younger boy is drawing. He’s writing with red ink on black construction paper and Dom wonders if the child knows his drawing won’t turn out.
The older boy is lying on his back, touching his hip gingerly. Dom feels he should recognize at least one of the two, but he can’t seem to place their faces.
He looks around helplessly, wondering why he’s here. That’s when they both turn to look at him-sort of. Their eyes are closed. Dom swallows and asks, “What’re you drawing?” to the young boy.
“You’ll see when I’m done,” he responds.
“He’s an artist,” the older boy jokes. The pieces click together and Dom recognizes Elijah now. He walks closer-not too close-and sees the spot where Elijah’s touching. His tattoo. Dom knows that spot well.
“Does it hurt?” Dom asks. Elijah pats it again.
“No. I just don’t know what it is. A bruise, maybe? Pretty weird for a bruise-“
“It’s a tattoo,” Dom says and rolls up his shirtsleeve. “I have one too, see?” But when he looks down at his arm the tattoo is gone. Looking back up again, he sees it on Elijah’s arm instead.
“What-“
“I’m done!” the young boy announces.
“Wait-“
“I drew a couch!”
Dom looks, but all he sees is a piano. The two boys raise their eyelids.
“No eyes,” Elijah whispers before falling into a silent slumber.