Dark Rooms ~ Chapter 1
I thought, before people send me packing, I should stop throwing in my two pennies worth about everything and start posting on my own... ;-)
Title: Dark Rooms 1/12
Author: 0corona0 (luthelessar@yahoo.de)
Rating: NC-17 (though I might be wrong because this is the first time I have to rate something)
Feedback: Yes, please! It's all I need to be happy.
Summary: Elijah is troubled by something that made him forget about the meaning of love, and while his friends try to get through to him, they only make it worse because he becomes aware of a pair of grey eyes…
Warnings: It's long. ;-)
A/N: It’s my first fic ever, but someone told me that it would be good and I trust her, so I took every bit of courage I had and posted it.
elfellon111, thank you *so* much. I’d never be here without you. Great thanks also to a_fairytale for the quick and excellent beta and the motivation - I’d never post this without those reassuring words of yours. And many thanks and a couple of the new breeding cross of my butterflies to germansoulmate for my so-needed dose of LOST and for satisfying my tedious curiosity.
Chapter 1: The Room of Friendship
Chapter I - The Room of Friendship
Elijah screamed.
It sounded fucking pitiable, but he couldn’t suppress it.
Scream. Push. Scream. Some more pushes and the screams stopped.
A whimper.
Push again, harder.
But no sound.
He had no strength left to make a noise. Painful memories washed over him.
Why? Why am I fucking torturing myself?
And then the so-well-known thoughts rushed back into Elijah’s mind:
It’s my fault. It’s all my fault.
Guilt and sorrow crashed into him and turned into one all-overwhelming feeling of misery.
...my fault... my fault...
Then the man came.
Elijah sighed. Relief. He satisfied him. Everything would be alright. He would come back, he wouldn’t ever leave again.
It took him minutes to realise that he had been captured in the past - again. The short joy which fluted through Elijah’s blood for some small, wonderful moments left loneliness.
And shame.
And somewhere, far away in his locked-out mind, there was a sob. Nearly noiseless, but it slowly broke his heart into pieces until only a pile of shards pumped the blood through his veins. Silent tears burned in the corner of his eyes, made him close his lids and whimper like a girl again.
Like a girl. Like a bitch. You’re a fucking bitch.
“Tomorrow, same time, same room?”
It was more an order than a question. The voice of the man still shook slightly.
Elijah knew he had to say no. He knew it couldn’t go on like this. He knew he had to accept it, had to get over it. He knew it would kill him soon.
But his brain still didn’t control him. The past had taken control. It was around him, in every breath, in every noise, in every single hammering of his heart.
So he nodded, and then remembered that the man couldn’t see him.
“Yes... yeah... okay...”
“Excellent.”
The other body left him alone with coldness but Elijah didn’t care anymore. He listened to the steps of the stranger until they couldn’t be heard anymore.
Elijah didn’t care. He put on his clothes in his own changing room and left the Dark Room. He knew he hadn’t looked for the room number, so he might not find the right one tomorrow evening. He didn’t notice the eyes burning into his back and following him
outside the door either.
And for fuck’s sake, he fucking didn’t care anymore.
Fucking hell!
Elijah took a deep drag from his cigarette and kept on walking, even if he just wanted to curl up into a ball and forget everything. He felt sick. Elijah always felt sick after he had fucked in the Dark Rooms, though they were a part of his life, of his life after his father left them alone. If anybody could call the shit he had gone through since then a life.
He threw the cigarette down and pulled a new one out, lit it hastily and inhaled it voraciously.
Fuck it, just fuck it!
The world shook in front of his view and he rubbed his temples to relax, but he couldn’t rub the thoughts that tortured his mind away.
Bitch, bitch, you coward, you bitch. Sell your body next time, wouldn’t make any fucking difference!
It really wouldn’t. He had made a fucking mess of his life, including cigarettes, alcohol and sex. Especially the sex.
Elijah stopped and closed his eyes, lost in pain and helpless.
It was all so fucked up. It was all because of his fucked father.
He hurried away as his memories began to haunt him. The dark nights of crying and feeling miserable, the lies that he told his mother and sister, the head-punched-against-the-wall feeling. Then he found out about the so called Dark Rooms, where gay men could meet to have anonymous sex.
They were a part of his life by now. He learned to remember people through the way they fucked, he learned to be pleased with the few seconds of forgetting he could get. Elijah hated but needed them, cursed but loved them. They were everything that could take his guilt away, that could show him it wasn’t his fault.
But it was. It was.
Elijah let out a dry laugh though he felt tears rising again. His mother had been worried the first few times he went out without telling her where. They had fought, they had argued, and at last he had always ended crying in her arms.
But he didn’t ever tell her. He couldn’t tell her, he couldn’t tell anybody. He was too ashamed. His casual smokes turned into having one cigarette after the other. He broke his vow to avoid drugs in any form. He got himself hurt, tortured, exploited by unknown people.
Only to forget that it was his fault. That it was his fault that his father left.
Get over it. It’s in the past, it’s gone, no reason to think about it.
He took another deep drag to calm down. He had to phone his mother and Hannah, they would have been worrying all week. Elijah sighed in remembrance of his mum’s protective arms and Hannah’s bright laughter. God, he missed them so much!
The streets of Wellington were empty and slightly cold - winter demanded its ownership of the world, well, at least of the south half of it. Elijah pulled his gloves out. It was really ice cold out here. He spat his cigarette to the ground and reached for another, lit it again and then wrapped his arms around his own body. He walked on like this slowly and felt even worse in this position. Did he really have to embrace himself?
“Get over it! You’re just cold, that’s all,” Elijah said loudly and winced at the sound of his own far too high voice.
Never! Never again will I miss a night with my friends to go fuck faceless people instead! he swore under his breath and leaned tiredly against a lamp pole.
His buttocks shot a spark of pain through his body.
With a curse on his lips and a careful hand on the hurt part of his body, Elijah jumped and walked on as fast as he could.
And even though he felt like shit, Elijah could not help the smile that crossed his face as his thoughts went to his friends…
~*~*~*~
Elijah was pretty nervous. That he got the role of Frodo might be the best thing that ever happened to his career, but he would be away from home for more than one fucking year. He had never known a feeling like home sickness and was sure he wouldn’t begin to feel it right now, but that wasn’t the point.
He didn’t know any of them. He didn’t know his colleagues at work. He didn’t know the director, he just had vaguely heard about a movie called Braindead or something like that. Elijah knew nothing more than names and he was determined to find out more.
So it happened that Hannah and he sat down in front of the computer and searched all about the Internet for information.
The first one was Sean Astin; Hannah remembered him from The War of the Rose and the name Astin wasn’t unknown in the business, too. It didn’t take much time to find a bit about Mister Astin out. His parents worked as actors and directors, he was married, had one daughter and played in a couple of good films. Elijah noted all this on a piece of paper and they looked for the next one:
Sean Bean. Hannah was shocked as her brother really wanted to look for information.
“He’s playing Alec Trevelyan in Golden Eye!”
Elijah raised an eyebrow. “Who please?”
Hannah rolled her eyes. “The bad one.”
He just giggled, swallowed a banter and noted “Golden Eye; the bad one” on his list.
Cate Blanchett followed. Elijah just wrote “Elizabeth”.
“Whoever this Orlando Bloom is,” Hannah said after half an hour of a frustrating search, “He’s the most unknown guy you’ll ever meet.”
“Fresh meat,” Elijah replied, finishing the pig he had drawn beside Orlando Bloom’s name and looked at the next guy.
“Billy Boyd...”
“Never heard of him.”
“Me neither, sis.”
Hannah sighed heavily:
“I really don’t know why I’m doing this with you.”
“’Cause you want to know who I’m going to spend the next two years of my life with,”
Elijah joked. All he heard from Hanna in return was a choked sob and then he nearly fell off his chair as she hugged him tightly.
“Sis... dear, what’s up?” he asked, confused, and caressed her back.
“Two years! Two long years you won’t be here and what will be after it? When it’s all over? I mean... two fucking years! That’s such a long time, and it won’t be over with the ending of the shoots, will it?”
To hear her snivels was more than Elijah could stand. He himself was moved to tears as he hugged her in reply. They rested their foreheads against each other’s.
“It’ll be okay, Hannah. Trust me. Everything will be okay. Whatever is going to happen, I won’t leave you and mum, not like dad. I’ll be there, okay, honey?”
Hannah looked into his amazing blue eyes and searched for the truth. Even if her brother was a damn good actor, he could never hide anything from her.
Elijah felt her doubts and took hold of her hand.
“Please, just trust me, Hannah.”
“How can I trust you when you’re lying to me and mum?”
She watched him intensely, noticed how he squirmed under her words, and noticed guilt darken his beautiful eyes.
“When you come home drunk, lost and crying; when you smell like an enormous joint and tell me you didn’t have one; when you’re bruised and hurt and try to hide it from us? When I have the fucked up feeling that I’ve already lost you and have no fucking clue why? How shall I trust you then?”
Elijah dropped his head, unable to stand her strong but begging gaze anymore. He had fucked up. Again.
“You have no choice,” he answered quietly, brushed the tears off of her cheek, and felt like an asshole.
Billy Boyd was listed on some theatre-casts. He seemed to be a Scot, not well known, but from the pictures Elijah saw he’d say that he liked the guy. He had a bright, honest laughter and green eyes, full of warmth and friendly welcomes. Elijah knew this look from his mother when she watched him and Hannah, but Billy Boyd seemed to carry this feeling of “I’m in love with everything” in his heart every time.
“He looks… like mum.”
Hannah just nodded, took the pen out of her brothers’ hands and wrote down: “Harbour during the storm.”
Elijah smiled.
The next hobbit was Dominic Monaghan. All that Elijah and Hannah found was a movie named Hostile Waters (Elijah wasn’t even sure that he’d find it at the DVD shop) and some pictures.
But fuck! The pictures were unbelievable!
They both stared at the screen like it would turn into a porn video.
“Awesome,” Elijah broke the silence after ten minutes of just-watching-and-unable-to-do-something-else. “Fucking awesome!”
Hannah couldn’t let go. “You know what? I never thought I’d ever say that, but this guy looks as good as you! Look at these eyes!”
Elijah couldn’t disagree - she was all too right. This Monaghan guy looked damn good!
“Yeah,” he answered after another minute of suspiring and sighing, “Look like the sea right before a storm...”
Hannah glanced at him. He noticed what he’d just said and blushed a bit, but she didn’t say anything.
At the end, they had created quite a good list of most of the people Elijah was going to hang around with during the next two years.
That evening the family spent their time watching movies, Elijah with a list on his knees and a pair of grey eyes haunting him…
~*~*~*~
Elijah smiled when he remembered his first thoughts about his friends. Yeah, he really had to phone Hannah and mum. Tell them he was alright, calm them down a bit. They didn’t know he was at the edge of sanity and they shouldn’t. Nobody should.
Elijah’s thoughts wandered around with his feet, sometimes at his work the day after tomorrow, sometimes back home.
He forgot about lighting his cigarette and when he woke up out of his racing mind, he found himself in front of their trailer. Loud laughter and voices reached his ears:
There was Viggo’s tone, dark, mumbling, and a medley of every-accent-Elijah-could-think-of into one; Sean’s familiar American tone, sounding protective and talking-ever-and-ever-on; Billy’s voice, a bit higher than the others and with the hard Scottish accent, but unexpectedly enjoyable; Orlando’s mesmeric one, in between American and British English; and at last Dominic’s voice, deep, a little bit hoarse, using a curse Elijah taught
him.
He couldn’t help but grin as he put his key into the lock. When it clicked, the door slammed open and Elijah stumbled forward and landed right into Viggo’s arms.
“’ Evening, Vig,” he mumbled, embarrassed, and pulled quickly away. He did like
Viggo’s embraces, but he was afraid of them, too. They were too protective, too... fatherly. Even if Elijah sometimes wished for such embraces, he was on the other hand afraid of them...
Stop thinking!
Viggo just smiled and answered softly, “It’s two o’clock in the morning Elijah.”
“Well, morning then.”
The older man closed the door behind Elijah, stepped back and took his seat on the kitchen-chair again. The three hobbits looked up as the youngest of them finally followed and sank down on a chair.
“Elwood!” Orlando screamed happily and threw a peanut at his head. Elijah could have sworn that he was drunk.
“Guys, did you fill him up?” he asked and pointed at the elf, who didn’t seem to notice his words and hummed a song that sounded ominously like the Sailor Moon theme.
“You mean like we did to you? No chance mate, we won’t make the humiliation easier for you,” Billy answered with a grin and got up from the armchair he had been sitting in. “Tea, mate?”
“Fuck you!” Elijah replied and felt himself answering the grin. “Tea’s nice, but right now a beer would be better.”
“Whatever you want, my minor,” Billy chuckled and reached inside the fridge, while Elijah closed his eyes, his face full of desperation. He didn’t have a chance to shoot anything back because Sean did so for him. Elijah thanked him silently.
“Shut up, Billy, or your words will cut someone in the end. They’re biting enough.”
Billy thought about protesting, but then grinned only wilder and placed a cool beer in Elijah’s hands. “Think you’re right, everything’s possible if I’m drunk.”
He leaned forward then, pulled Elijah into a firm embrace and whispered softly, “You’re okay, mate?”
Elijah smiled. He opened his eyes and felt a warm feeling flowing out of these green, kind eyes and into his body as they watched him with concern.
“’Course I‘m.”
And it wasn’t even a lie. With all of them around, he felt safe. They’d caught him and held him until he was safe from falling into the abysm of his fucking mind.
Billy smiled back, squeezed him once more and fell down into his armchair again. The Scott always seemed to know what the people needed.
A comfortable silence followed between the six guys, only interrupted by Orlando’s quiet giggles and the soft pop! when Elijah opened his bottle. He swallowed half of the beer at once, thankful for the alcohol. Besides the hug, that was the second thing he really wanted.
“Elijah, don’t you want to take those clothes off?” Sean asked at last, but was interrupted by Dom who had looked darkly into the fire the entire time since Elijah had arrived and now shot an annoyed look at Sean.
“Can’t you just shut up for ten fucking short minutes? Goddamn, this New Zealand-beer is even worse than the American one! Shit!” Another string of curses followed until Dominic sank, depressed and exhausted, deeper into the couch.
Elijah watched his mate’s behaviour with surprise - that wasn’t the Dom he knew. Not the always laughing, always joking, always-caring Dominic, but one who was surely dead drunk. Something must had happened since he went out for the Dark Room.
He sighed and then remembered the date... the fucking date! Of course, it was too obvious. Orlando had gone out for a date that night and was drunk by now. But what was wrong with Dom?
Elijah looked helplessly at Billy, but the Scot only smiled again and invited him with a short nod onto the couch next to Dominic. Even if Elijah had no idea what game he was playing, he knew that it would end well for all of them.
Billy got up again and said, “Sean’s right. Take these things off; I’ll make you some tea. It’s cold out there and if you don’t keep warm you’ll get ill.”
“Never again!” Elijah replied, grinning, “Not after Bree.”
Billy and Sean laughed out loudly and even Dominic couldn’t hide a short smile. Viggo only grinned, “Oh, Elijah, I’d have changed places with you at any time...”
“Oh, come on!” Sean sighed and leaned back against his armchair, “Please, Viggo, leave it.”
But the actor didn’t even think about it. He just placed his chair nearer to Sean and touched the hobbit lightly on the arm. Sean pulled back as if he thought his hand would be a spider.
“Why?” he asked, “Lying together must have been fantastically warm...”
Elijah laughed at the look of discomfort on Sean’s face, even if his inner parts were squirming. It had been more than fantastically warm, it had been fucking amazing. He was thankful that he could go into the wardrobe to hide his blushing face.
The coat, the gloves, the scarf... all not his own. Elijah smiled weakly and pressed his cold face into the warm cotton of the coat he’d used. He smelled a mixture of smoke and Dominic’s own aroma and enjoyed it. What would he give if he could smell every part of Dom’s body, anywhere, anytime... his hair, his skin, his cum...
Elijah pulled back at once and escaped back into the small living room. His face burned even more. He loved these guys much more than every other person in the whole world, but not in this way. He could not.
But he still had Dominc’s smell in his nose and inhaled deeply to enjoy it.
Having a crush is completely okay. Just do not go any further.
Elijah swallowed a laugh about the thought of him, having a crush in this important situation. What did a crush mean, anyway? It was useless, some sort of teeny-problem.
And Elijah Wood really shouldn’t have to handle teeny-problems.
No, he shouldn’t, and he wasn’t. It was different when he thought of Dom. He had of course felt it before, this fucked-up-thing Zack used to describe as “the need to fuck someone senseless” and Hannah talked about every spare minute, calling it, helplessly captured in dreams, “love”. Elijah had felt it in the same way about five years ago, when he had his first and only girlfriend. At that time he believed in love, but that was long ago. There was no love. Neither with Dom nor with someone else.
Elijah sat down beside Dom and took the cup of hot tea in front of him, lightly shaking. He puffed and was thankful for the warm air that gently touched his face, then looked around:
The “discussion” between Sean and Viggo had gone on; Sean defended himself bravely against Viggo’s attacks, who was seeming to have fun. Billy laughed into a pillow to hide it from Sean and made some tries to help him. Orlando was sleeping by now, his mouth slightly opened, his lids fluttering. He’d have a dreadful headache tomorrow.
Dominic was the other way around: he had his lips pressed together tightly, breathing firmly through his nose. His arms lay uselessly aside his body that tiredly hang in a position in-between sitting and laying. His eyes were closed but he wasn’t asleep.
Elijah took a little swallow of tea, bit his tongue because it was so hot and reached for his beer but it got only more injured by the suddenly following cold.
“Fuck,” he cursed under his breath.
“Yeah, life’s fucking sad, isn’t it?”
Mildly surprised that he got an answer, Elijah looked again at Dom and found his eyes fully open, watching him in a strange way. Electric shocks ran trough his body under this look, but he managed to smile and replied calmly: “Yeah, far too sad. Want another beer, Dommie?”
Dominic sighed and flung his head against the couch back. “No thanks. Y’ know, it’s the fact that I’m already pissed and that I don’t want to hurt any of you in the end. Would be terribly possible now.”
He rubbed his eyes and placed his elbows tiredly onto his knees.
Elijah had no idea what to tell him. He had seen his own feelings reflected in those electrifying grey eyes for a little second and the seriousness in there had shocked him a bit.
“Dom...” he began hesitantly, not knowing where to start, but was interrupted by Sean, calling, no, begging for him:
“Fuck, Lijah, help me with that faggot!”
Billy cried out his laughter loudly now and fell on his knees. Elijah joined him while he said, “Please, Viggo, let my poor Sam go. He’s mine already and truly loyal, isn’t he? Wouldn’t ever leave me, neither for king nor emperor?”
Viggo grinned as he placed his chair in some distance to Sean and answered dramatically:
“I knew there’s something going on between the two of you. But it will have no good ending, mark my words! Frodo-lo will leave you and instead take Gollum, because he can change his whore every night: for hot, smutty nights Gollum, and for tender, caressing nights Smeagol...”
The trailer walls shook as they laughed aloud. There were some heavy knocks on the wall they shared with Ian’s trailer, but it stopped soon when he saw that he couldn’t calm them anyway. After it got a bit quieter in there, Viggo got to his feet and yawned.
“Gentleman, we’ll see you tomorrow. I’m going to take this girlie...” he nodded towards Orlando, who was snoring loudly now, “...home and then I’ll get some sleep. There are barely any hours of my free day left and I don’t want the make-up assistant shouting at me tomorrow because they can’t cover the dark circles ‘round my eyes.”
Everyone laughed again; Billy helped Viggo transporting Orlando into the car and then shouted at last, “Have a nice day of work tomorrow!”
Which was replied by the hooter and a screaming Billy, running into the house and slamming the front door.
“This guy will kill me sooner or later. He really tried to hit me with his car!”
“Too much of the bad New Zealand beer, I guess,” Sean said and shifted uncomfortably.
Elijah tittered and rubbed his tired eyes. “What was up with Orli?”
“No idea, mate...” Billy answered and pointed motherly at the tea in front of Elijah, “...and if you’re not going to drink that fucking tea during the next two seconds I’ll have to tell the police that you’re underage and drink like an admiral of the red.” Elijah muttered and swallowed it carefully - his tongue still burned - while the Scott went on:
“He took off happily for his date and returned two hours later, in a total rage. Sean and I tried to calm him down, but we didn’t get it until Viggo came around. When Orli had a normal colour in his face again, he went depressive and didn’t talk to anybody. I couldn’t even abstain him from reaching the fridge and getting drunk.” Light reproval was in his
voice as he’d obviously been disappointed with himself.
Elijah met his eyes and smiled encouraging but weakly.
“It’s not your fault Bills. He’ll tell us tomorrow after work...”
“If his headache will let him come to work, you mean,” answered Dom suddenly, instead of Billy. His eyes were closed again.
Elijah stared at him.
“It doesn’t really matter because it’s our free day tomorrow and we won’t meet him on set anyway...”
“Yeah, right. Doesn’t matter that Orli will have dreadful headache until he wants to scream, does it?”
Elijah frowned and asked confusedly, “I don’t understand, Dom...”
“That was utterly clear, because you’re just a fucking child, Lij.”
Elijah stared at Dominic, searching for the tease, but he couldn’t find more than drunk wrath and frustration and felt his own temper rising. He closed his eyes to control his feelings.
Only one second more and he might have seen the pain and hurt deep, deep down in Dominic’s soul, but as he opened his lids again, his friend had hid them behind anger again.
“And what the fuck is driving you to the top?!” Elijah asked palsiedly, his voice louder than necessary.
Dom’s head snapped around and shot angry looks towards Elijah.
“Nothing you’d understand, peewee!”
Bang!This word broke down the wall he had built up and Elijah shouted, “Then why are you bothering me for giving Billy a little bit of comfort?! Shit! Shit, shit, shit!”
He got up and stumbled out of the room, taking his cigarettes and his flue with him. Outside he leaned back against the frigid wall, lit one cigarette and took a deep drag. Everything sledded out of his control and Elijah began to cry. He sank down the wall, sobbing like a child, not knowing why and at the same time knowing all too well.
Why had Dominic been so fucking incensed when he didn’t seem to care about Orlando’s health?
“Dom.”
Dominic didn’t even hear Billy’s soft spoken word. He was too scared of how Elijah had walked out just a minute ago. He stared at the door, feeling guilt and shame, but still fought with his anger. It wasn’t Elijah’s fault, he knew it wasn’t, but... fuck! Why had Mister-just-nineteen to be so blissfully ignorant?!
“Dom!”
Billy’s voice, louder now, brought Dominic back to life. He looked up and felt Sean’s shocked eyes on him, but avoided them and met Billy’s ones instead. The green was filled with understanding, but also with reproach.
“That wasn’t very nice.”
Dom squirmed under his voice and dropped his eyes at last.
“I know. I’m sorry”, he mumbled and felt for his surprise tears burning in the corner his eyes. He covered his face with his hands to hide them from Billy and Sean. It had just been a terrible evening...
Something heavy sat down next to him and Dom threw himself into Billy’s embrace which protected him from the world outside there. He felt the gently stroking hands on his back and mumbled again and again:
“I don’t want to hurt him, I’m so sorry... .”
“Well”, Billy whispered and breathed calming warmth onto Dom’s neck, “maybe you’ll better tell that him.”
He pressed him tighter for a few seconds and let go then slowly. He smiled at Dominic, bruised one single tear off of his cheek and left the room. Sean hesitated, got up then too and patted on Dom’s shoulder.
“It’ll work, don’t worry.”
Dom nodded, waited until the American had entered the bedroom too and gazed into the space then.
Minutes passed and when he got up to speak to Elijah, he still had no idea what he was going to say.
Elijah had sobbed like a girl for a few minutes until he got control about himself again. He tried to fight the shakes back that made his heart hammering louder every second. An endless mantra filled his mind, going ever on and on:
“...doesn’t matter that Orli will have dreadful headache until he wants to scream, does it...?”
“...that was utterly clear, because you’re just a fucking child...”
“Fuck you!”, he murmured under his breath and regretted it at once. Dom was drunk. He had not been able to control his temper, but Elijah himself had. He should have stayed cool, calm... .
“...you’re just a fucking child...”
“...fucking child...”
“...child...”
He banged his head against the trailer wall in frustration. That was it. Dom thought he was a child, living in a world of fairy-tales. And Orlando-fucking-Bloom was the one who seemed to fit in his imagination of an adult.
His head fell down on his knees again. Elijah wrapped his arms around his legs and closed his eyes to relax. He breathed deeply.
Breath. Just breath. Bloody hell, where are my cigarettes?!
He ran his hands about the ground and searched for the packet. He so needed a smoke!
It was empty. The damn-fifteen-cigarette-packet was empty!
“You bought it this morning. When did you smoke all of them?”
Elijah nearly jumped to his feet as Dominic spoke. He had not even heard the door.
Dom watched his friend carefully and their looks met for a second. He swallowed hard as he noticed the red-swollen eyes of the younger man, then Elijah dropped his head again. He shivered and stared at his breath, escaping his mouth in white clouds. Dom took his coat and put it around Elijah’s shoulders. He made some sullen tries to get it away, but
Dominic held it in place:
“Lij, it’s freezing cold out here. You need it.”
“I’m not your fucking child, Dominic!”
Dominic. The name hit him like a punch. Elijah never called him Dominic, he had never introduced himself as Dominic. He had always been Dom, Dommie or Sblomie.
“I know... but please, take it.”
Elijah hesitated, but what choice did he have at last? It really was cold. So he wrapped it like a blanket around his body and continued staring into the space. He felt the urgent need to either beat or kiss Dominic the next time he had to look at him.
Dom sank down beside him heavily. His drunken senses were quite woozy. He had the feeling that the ground was moving and tried to catapult him away from Elijah and with a rotating view and the ominous knocks against his temples which announced a close headache, it was hard to concentrate on what he was going to say:
“Lij... I’m sorry. Look, I had a bad day and I know that this is no reason for making strife. I know that you wanted to comfort Billy in there and I know that would have been my fucking duty because I’m his best mate. I know that I behaved like an arsehole. I didn’t want to shout at you and I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m sorry. Whatever I’ve said that had make you so upset, I regret every single syllable.”
Dom’s words reached Elijah’s heart and melted away the anger. He felt tears filling his eyes again and didn’t dare to look at him. A quiet sob escaped his throat.
“Lij?”
But he couldn’t look at him. He felt already how the tears were moving - fuck! Why did he cry every time situations went a bit more emotional? Ashamed of his tears and scared of what would happen if he’d only glance now into Dominic’s eyes, Elijah didn’t respond and held his head down.
Two fondly, scraggly fingers raised his chin until their looks met once more. Elijah’s mind melted away as he saw these grey, light silver eyes. He sunk into them, watching the glint of the stars and the beautiful illusion of a stormy sea at night with the waves reflecting a broken, white full moon. They were full of guilt, care and comfort and soon Elijah closed his eyes again. Tears were running unhamperedly down his cheeks now, wetting his chapped lips. He couldn’t bear to watch those deep irises anymore, the next look would make his self-control go completely and forever.
Coolish lips touched his burning lids. Dom’s hoarse, gentle voice, breathing warmth on his ears, said quietly:
“Look at me, Lijah.”
He shook his head lightly, but Dom whispered it again, “Please, Lij, look at me”, and again.
Elijah opened his eyes to watch Dominic kissing the tears off of his cheeks. His whole body trembled and squirmed for more, but his mate pulled away and took his face into his hands:
“I’m sorry. I really am. Please, don’t cry...”
They were staying like this for a short eternity, only Dom’s caressing thumbs and his beautiful eyes and his half from the shadow covered face. Then he broke eye-contact and hugged Elijah firmly.
“We’re there for you - I’m there for you. You know that, don’t you?”
He nodded shortly and pressed himself firmer onto Dominic. He remembered the time after Bree again: Pete bought this raining tower and they managed during the few shots on set to make all of them getting ill. Four Hobbits, all fighting with fever and then the scene in the marshes with all the midges and the wetness and the cold. Damn, that had been a week! At the end they had shared one bed because they felt like some fucking icicles in the summer of New Zealand.
Dom had been warm. That was one thing Elijah remembered. Dom had been so warm that everyone thought he was near to death. He swore the other hobbits that he felt just as cold as them, but they didn’t believed him a second. It was one of Dom’s favourite flaws, hiding in his memories somewhere nobody - even not Billy - could go, coming out every time nobody needed it: The urgent need to disguise his healthy if its state could cause problems for anyone.
A weak grin passed Elijah’s face. Seen by now, some of the incidents that happened back there were quite amusing what maybe made understandable why they laughed everytime they talked about the “Bree-sickness”, even if it had been the most frantic experience
they ever made.
Or they only laughed to avoid crying.
~*~*~
“Fuck!”
Elijah rubbed the elbow he had just fallen on and cursed under his breath. He sat up and looked around, but not with many forecasts. His glasses lay somewhere on the nightstands at the opposite of the bed. The bed where he had lain in for some peaceful hours and fallen out seconds ago.
Elijah cursed once more. The bed was too small for four persons, couldn’t they see it? Who had the idea of sleeping together this night to be kept warm by each other?
He ignored the fact that it had actually been him who had made this suggestion and reached for the edge of the bed. His hands wrapped around the bright, smoothly warm wood and gripped into the sheets as well. He needed two trials to get up. Once on his feet, Elijah glanced around:
He was fucking blind without is contacts and wondered seriously how he could make the way through the untidy room to his glasses without breaking a leg or at least falling badly on his face.
There was no need to wonder, of course he didn’t manage it; he hit the table two times with the same knee, knocked over a couple of CDs that crushed down on his toes and, when only two little metres separated him from his glasses, a plong! and an aloud “Fuck you, Monaghan!” was heard because Elijah stumbled across a pack of books his mate left there and fell hardly on his nose.
But the others were sleeping like the logs, or the spoons. They weren’t disturbed neither by his cried out despite nor by his ruthless tramp through the room into the kitchen.
Elijah searched, still half-blind in the darkness, the cupboard with the kleenex but missed it and opened the fridge instead. Coldness and glare hit his face in one sudden flash.
Elijah shut his eyes frantically and smashed the fridge door. It was all so fucked up!
Still fighting with white bolts in front of his view, he grabbed blindly for the kitchen-roll, his nose bleeding like a butchered pig. Pressing the paper firmly against his nostrils, he finally sunk on one of the small chairs and waited.
Waited. Waited. And waited some more.
When his nose finally had calm down, his hands shook so hard he couldn’t get them under his control. His body shivered and slight goose bumps were everywhere. His veins felt empty or, better said, filled with iced blood; his heart stood still and for a terrifying moment Elijah thought even the air in his lungs had frozen. He struggled with his breathing, feeling like dying in-between the next seconds. It was a dreadful illness that rushed about all of them after the Bree and Marshes shoots. Suddenly mildly climatic New Zealand was as cold as the Antarctic and they felt like Sir Ernest Shackleton - or more like Scott, left alone in a desert of coldness.
Elijah thought about making himself a tea to warm up, but decided against this. Their little bed was good enough. His feet wouldn’t held him any longer.
So he entered the room, walked over to the bed (“Fuck you, Monaghan!”) and glanced at his friends: They were all quite pale and had dark-covered eyes. Rest was what they need - said the doctor.
Rest.
Elijah smiled as he watched them quietly, wishing everyone silently a healthy sleep and comfortable dreams. Then he took his glasses off, put them on the nightstands (this time the right one) and crawled back under the blanket.
Warmth welcomed him and made this position though of his little space a lot more comfortable. He cuddled himself against Dom’s chest, placing his head under his chin and sighed blissfully into his neck. Instinctively, Dom wrapped an arm around the little body besides him and pulled him as near as possible. He murmured something inscrutable and shifted his head. Scratchy stubbles tickled Elijah’s forehead and long fingers held a gentle grip on his waist.
Goose bumps were all over Elijah’s body, from his shoulders to his toes, and delicious shivers ran down his back. He purred like a cat, enjoying the light embrace Dom presented him and breathed air full Dominic. Their chests went up and down in the same rhythm soon. He listened to his easefully pounding heartbeat and suddenly felt protected and save, like a child in its mother’s arms. He forgot about Dark Rooms; he forgot about his injured heart; he forgot about everything else than Dominic Monaghan who was holding him closely and breathing reassuringly in his ear... .
As Elijah woke up again he felt immediately that there was something wrong. First he noticed that the fridge was peeping stridently. He moaned tiredly.
Fuck! I left it open!
But that wasn’t what had woken him.
A fresh breeze, coming in from the open window, parted the curtains. That was actually odd, because Billy never forgot to close the windows. Regardless of how much he had drunk, regardless how shitty he felt, he always did it.
Elijah thought about going and checking Billy’s vital signs, but the Scot lay too far away... it was so wonderfully warm here... .
Awareness hit him with the power of a live atomic bomb. It was too warm. In fact, it was pretty hot.
He brought a bit distance between him and his mates, looking for something he couldn’t name. He only knew that he was lightly sweating already. Elijah reached blindly for his glasses, missed the nightstands and fell on something hot, almost wet what felt horribly like human skin. His fingers ran upwards, touching soft lips and a cherry-like nose until going about the nasal bone to a forehead.
Elijah frowned. The cold grip of fear clutched his heart and stopped it beating.
Dominic was burning. Burning like a fucking big ball of fire.
“Shit”, he managed to spit out. The peeping turned up inside his head and became louder than a volcanic eruption.
He released that Dom’s hand was stroking his wrist in a constant rhythm; firmer, softer, firmer, softer. Every time it became firmer, Elijah nearly felt how Dom’s fingers left red marks on his skin, when it went softer, the hand struggled and nearly lost its grip.
Elijah reached for his hand, taking it into his, feared so much to loose Dominic... the fear came up from the deepest depth of his soul, unknown, foreign. He didn’t know it, it had never hit him that strong as now, feeling Dom burning from inside... fucking burning... .
The peeps of the fridge became one loud screech, never stopping, never ending. Elijah stared helplessly at his friend, scared, doubtful, not knowing what do to. He was lamed by the force of the illness that had taken control about them, about him. He remembered
Dom joking this evening:
“Did you hear what the doctor said? It’s good as long as it’s not getting worse... .”
Elijah saw him in front of his eyes with this mischievous expression on his face, grabbing some snow and forming it into a ball. He remembered exactly the begging, but full of giggling “Please not!” Billy let out before the ball hit him straight into his face. And he remembered too well how they ended up, lying on the ground, laughing and drawing suns and flowers and hearts and other childlike stuff into the snow, right next to the paints of joints, guns and dead bodies.
How Dominic made a huge heart and wrote their names in it. How they stood there and only watched it, everyone moved deep inside his heart (even though they didn’t admit this fact ever to Orlando), until Sean shooed them away into the direction of their trailer. How he had shook like a girlie and how Dom had put his warm coat around Elijah’s shoulders.
And now Dominic had fever! He himself felt just slightly warm while Dominic trembled and clutched his hand hard, welding beads running down his temples.
“Lij?”
The bathroom door had swung open. A dark figure was framed by the electric light, but Elijah knew the voice. He tried to breath, tried to speak:
“Sean... .”
Sean walked slowly over to the pale, shaking person that was his colleague and friend. The bathroom lamp lighted the room only vaguely, making shadows darken the younger man’s face.
“What’s wrong, peewee? Why are you crying?”
Elijah didn’t even notice that he cried. He didn’t feel it, felt just Dom’s hot hand and the comfort Sean’s soft words gave him. He closed his eyes and sobbed, didn’t know why either. Why had he lost control, why didn’t he stay calm?
“He’s... fuck, Sean, he’s... .”
Sean’s eyes narrowed on Dominic, on the glancing sweat on his face, the painful distorted mien and the conjunct hands of the two men. The back of his hand placed itself automatically on Dominic’s forehead to feel the temperature, in the same way like he’d checked Allie’s one.
“Fuck”, he only whispered and Elijah’s eyes that just opened when he heard Sean’s voice
shut again.
“Wake Billy and take some wet towels. I’ll call the doctor and then we have to keep our dear Merry pretty cold.”
Sean’s voice caused more tears running down his cheeks and leaving a salted taste on his lips. Elijah barely had enough courage to break the grip that banded him and Dom together, because he so fucking feared he’d loose him.
Never loosing again!
Not one of them!
Not *him*!
The fridge was still ringing like an alarm bell.
~*~*~
Elijah smiled and leaned his head onto Dom’s chest again. Dominic’s heart was pounding peacefully. He felt like a glowing campfire and not like a fucking forest fire, thanks God.
Elijah closed his eyes and let his fingers wander lazily about Dominic’s arm down to his hand, where he united them and calmed down at last. He had to giggle quietly as he remembered Dom’s awakening after the first fever attack: The British had just grinned wicked at them and said something like “Nice glasses, Lij” before he fell asleep again.
And Elijah hated him for saying it. He didn’t like his glasses that much and had sworn himself that he would never show them neither Dominic nor Billy because he knew they would end up with bantering him.
They actually did a few times, but every time they “discussed” this topic, Elijah went silent and felt sudden fear. It had to be obviously how he felt because every time he pleaded them to stop they’d do. That was nothing usual.
Elijah sighed dreamily into Dom’s chest and got a snicker in reply. He looked up into his mate’s face who watched their hands... it seemed to fit, they felt right there, making a connection between the two men.
“So perfect... “, Elijah murmured to himself, more thinking aloud than really speaking.
“Sorry?”, Dom asked, but sounded absently himself too, still watching their fingers.
“Never mind... was thinking aloud.”
“No, please. Tell me.”
Elijah blushed and dropped his eyes. He felt Dom’s gaze on him and searched for a good answer to get him out of this embarrassment:
“Well... you know... thought just for a second... I mean, I wondered... where did you get this ring?”
Another snicker. Elijah risked a glance at his mate. He seemed to be truly amused, but still did not take the eyes off of their interlaced fingers:
“Viggo gave it to me. I don’t know what for. He just said: ‘The unknown is the only thing that we’re afraid of. Identification is the first step you have to make.’ You see this character? I still don’t know what it means, even after I and Billy searched everywhere and bothered Viggo till he got insane.”
Dom pointed at a little gravure in the silver. A memory flashed into Elijah’s mind at the view, but he couldn’t catch it. Then it was gone and he shrugged.
“No idea either, but it’s looking...”
“...fitting?” Dom finished his sentence, still staring at their hands. Then he leaded Elijah’s hand to his lips. He kissed it softly, barely touched the pale skin, and hold it there, his eyes shut.
Elijah couldn’t breath. His whole body was haunted by electric sparks, used to make him squirm and moan, but caught his breath instead. He searched for Dominic’s eyes, wanted to see the tease and mischievous in there but at the same time knew it’d hurt him too much.
But Dom avoided his look, let his hand go and grinned:
“Baby, you know I love you, but I’m not Viggo ok?”
Elijah looked at him irritated started to crawl away from Dominic. What the fuck did he mean? Viggo was gay; he never made a big secret about this. Was it that?
A strong arm wrapped around his waist and pulled him back into an embrace.
“Was only joking mate. It’s ok”, Dom whispered into his ear and then leaned back against the wall again, taking Elijah with him and holding him at his chest like a child.
Elijah snuggled into the hug and enjoyed the warm body beneath him again. Comfortable silent surrounded them. Dom played lost in thought with the younger man’s hair and then suddenly, out of nowhere, asked as if their conversation had never went any further:
“You bought the pack this morning. When did you smoke all of the cigarettes? When did you turn into a fucking chain smoker?”
Elijah shrugged as uninterested as he could:
“I had a lot of them down in the park, I think. You know, I told you I’d go there... needed some rest for a couple of hours.”
“Lij...”
The serious tone of Dominic’s voice made him look up.
“You weren’t at the park. You came from the direction of downtown. I saw you coming...” he placed a finger onto Elijah’s parted lips, who was halfway saying something, “no, listen! I don’t know why the fuck you’re lying at us. I have no idea what you’re doing there, but remember… we are right here for you. Everytime, everywhere.”
Elijah looked at the finger that locked his lips and then at Dominic who watched him with his stormy eyes, shooting heated blood through his veins.
Elijah pressed his lips firmly together to keep his tongue away from this delicious finger with the cool silver ring. It nearly shook in his mouth and pressed against his teeth, fighting against his sanity that became less with every second of contact between him and Dom. Their faces almost touched.
Two inches. Only two fucking inches... between you and this lips... fuck it, you have nothing to loose, just kiss him... kiss him... .
Elijah leaned forward... his actions weren’t under his control anymore. His hand took Dom’s finger away... he felt warm breath on his skin...
...and pulled back. It was more than only two inches. Between him and Dom lay a fucking great space that couldn’t be traversed. It wasn’t only that Dom was not fucking gay, there was so much more... it was a fucking great universe.
So Elijah just placed a sloppy kiss on his cheek and grinned:
“My dear Dom, you sound like a lesbian coozie!”
Dominic laughed and poked him away:
“Yep, and you behave like a little faggot. And that’s the thank for my consulation... you’re such a couple of ungraceful arses!”
Elijah giggled wildly while Dom shook his head and smiled. He got to his feet and offered a hand to his friend:
“Let’s get in there, mate, my toes are going to freeze every next second. And tomorrow are we going to buy you some hibernal clothes…you can’t borrow ours all winter!”
He nearly threw Elijah on his feet and they entered the trailer laughing, joking, kidding, struggling - as they were supposed to be. They checked if the windows were closed (“I know that it’ll be cold in here if there’d be open, Lijah, but you know that Billy always shuts them!”) and brushed their teeth together (“I can’t even remember the last time I did it! Shit, I’m ponging, am I not?”).
Elijah put his contacts out and then detected that he had no idea where he’d left his glasses. It took Dominic half an hour to find them between a CD and his script and another half hour for Elijah to take it away from Dom who found it funny to run around with the glasses on his nose and imitate Elijah’s typical behaviour.
“They’re really nice glasses”, he said, smirking. Elijah shot a nasty look at him and put them on:
“Dom, I warn you. Ever again a tease about my glasses and I’m going to kill you.”
Dominic only grinned in reply, but Elijah didn’t. He felt sick suddenly. He remembered the hot of the fever at which mercy Dom had been. It had been so fucking scary. The doctor had told them: If nobody would had noticed it, Dom’d had died during the night. The temperature had been exactly at 41,79 °C.
They got to bed muted. Billy and Sean were apparently asleep (though Elijah could have sworn that at least Billy would stay awake until both of them were in bed). The silence was only broken by the crackling sound of sheets and pillows until both of them had found a comfortable position.
“I wonder what happened at Orli’s date...”
Elijah looked to Dominic: His eyes were closed, but he surely spoke to him who shifted and answered uneasily:
“Yeah, me too. Listen, Dom, I do care about Orli. Of course it’s bad that he’ll have a
headache tomorrow... I think you misunderstood my words... .”
“No no, it’s ok. I overreacted. I was so angry... it wasn’t your fault. I didn’t want to shout at you. That was fucking unfair. You do understand a lot. I’m sorry, peewee.”
Elijah dug his face into the pillow. Dom sounded so fucking honestly... .
“Don’t call me peewee.”
Fuck! That had been so improperly!
“Why not? Everyone’s doing it.”
But you’re not everyone. You are more. And I hate you for being more.
“I don’t want you to. Am I calling you dad?”
A long time nothing. Then-
“Ok baby. As you like it... . Night.”
Elijah breathed deeply and answered, surprised by his hoarse voice:
“Night Dom. Sweet Dreams.”
He got a chuckle in reply and pressed his head deeper into the pillow. It was a crush. Only a crush. It’d go soon, it was only the fucked hormones.
A crush. A crush. A crush. A crush.
Elijah looked up to the dark form that was Dominic. Grey eyes looked back, glomming in the dark.
He buried his face back into the pillow as fast as possible.
Fuck!
TBC
Title: Dark Rooms 1/12
Author: 0corona0 (luthelessar@yahoo.de)
Rating: NC-17 (though I might be wrong because this is the first time I have to rate something)
Feedback: Yes, please! It's all I need to be happy.
Summary: Elijah is troubled by something that made him forget about the meaning of love, and while his friends try to get through to him, they only make it worse because he becomes aware of a pair of grey eyes…
Warnings: It's long. ;-)
A/N: It’s my first fic ever, but someone told me that it would be good and I trust her, so I took every bit of courage I had and posted it.
elfellon111, thank you *so* much. I’d never be here without you. Great thanks also to a_fairytale for the quick and excellent beta and the motivation - I’d never post this without those reassuring words of yours. And many thanks and a couple of the new breeding cross of my butterflies to germansoulmate for my so-needed dose of LOST and for satisfying my tedious curiosity.
Chapter 1: The Room of Friendship
Chapter I - The Room of Friendship
Elijah screamed.
It sounded fucking pitiable, but he couldn’t suppress it.
Scream. Push. Scream. Some more pushes and the screams stopped.
A whimper.
Push again, harder.
But no sound.
He had no strength left to make a noise. Painful memories washed over him.
Why? Why am I fucking torturing myself?
And then the so-well-known thoughts rushed back into Elijah’s mind:
It’s my fault. It’s all my fault.
Guilt and sorrow crashed into him and turned into one all-overwhelming feeling of misery.
...my fault... my fault...
Then the man came.
Elijah sighed. Relief. He satisfied him. Everything would be alright. He would come back, he wouldn’t ever leave again.
It took him minutes to realise that he had been captured in the past - again. The short joy which fluted through Elijah’s blood for some small, wonderful moments left loneliness.
And shame.
And somewhere, far away in his locked-out mind, there was a sob. Nearly noiseless, but it slowly broke his heart into pieces until only a pile of shards pumped the blood through his veins. Silent tears burned in the corner of his eyes, made him close his lids and whimper like a girl again.
Like a girl. Like a bitch. You’re a fucking bitch.
“Tomorrow, same time, same room?”
It was more an order than a question. The voice of the man still shook slightly.
Elijah knew he had to say no. He knew it couldn’t go on like this. He knew he had to accept it, had to get over it. He knew it would kill him soon.
But his brain still didn’t control him. The past had taken control. It was around him, in every breath, in every noise, in every single hammering of his heart.
So he nodded, and then remembered that the man couldn’t see him.
“Yes... yeah... okay...”
“Excellent.”
The other body left him alone with coldness but Elijah didn’t care anymore. He listened to the steps of the stranger until they couldn’t be heard anymore.
Elijah didn’t care. He put on his clothes in his own changing room and left the Dark Room. He knew he hadn’t looked for the room number, so he might not find the right one tomorrow evening. He didn’t notice the eyes burning into his back and following him
outside the door either.
And for fuck’s sake, he fucking didn’t care anymore.
Fucking hell!
Elijah took a deep drag from his cigarette and kept on walking, even if he just wanted to curl up into a ball and forget everything. He felt sick. Elijah always felt sick after he had fucked in the Dark Rooms, though they were a part of his life, of his life after his father left them alone. If anybody could call the shit he had gone through since then a life.
He threw the cigarette down and pulled a new one out, lit it hastily and inhaled it voraciously.
Fuck it, just fuck it!
The world shook in front of his view and he rubbed his temples to relax, but he couldn’t rub the thoughts that tortured his mind away.
Bitch, bitch, you coward, you bitch. Sell your body next time, wouldn’t make any fucking difference!
It really wouldn’t. He had made a fucking mess of his life, including cigarettes, alcohol and sex. Especially the sex.
Elijah stopped and closed his eyes, lost in pain and helpless.
It was all so fucked up. It was all because of his fucked father.
He hurried away as his memories began to haunt him. The dark nights of crying and feeling miserable, the lies that he told his mother and sister, the head-punched-against-the-wall feeling. Then he found out about the so called Dark Rooms, where gay men could meet to have anonymous sex.
They were a part of his life by now. He learned to remember people through the way they fucked, he learned to be pleased with the few seconds of forgetting he could get. Elijah hated but needed them, cursed but loved them. They were everything that could take his guilt away, that could show him it wasn’t his fault.
But it was. It was.
Elijah let out a dry laugh though he felt tears rising again. His mother had been worried the first few times he went out without telling her where. They had fought, they had argued, and at last he had always ended crying in her arms.
But he didn’t ever tell her. He couldn’t tell her, he couldn’t tell anybody. He was too ashamed. His casual smokes turned into having one cigarette after the other. He broke his vow to avoid drugs in any form. He got himself hurt, tortured, exploited by unknown people.
Only to forget that it was his fault. That it was his fault that his father left.
Get over it. It’s in the past, it’s gone, no reason to think about it.
He took another deep drag to calm down. He had to phone his mother and Hannah, they would have been worrying all week. Elijah sighed in remembrance of his mum’s protective arms and Hannah’s bright laughter. God, he missed them so much!
The streets of Wellington were empty and slightly cold - winter demanded its ownership of the world, well, at least of the south half of it. Elijah pulled his gloves out. It was really ice cold out here. He spat his cigarette to the ground and reached for another, lit it again and then wrapped his arms around his own body. He walked on like this slowly and felt even worse in this position. Did he really have to embrace himself?
“Get over it! You’re just cold, that’s all,” Elijah said loudly and winced at the sound of his own far too high voice.
Never! Never again will I miss a night with my friends to go fuck faceless people instead! he swore under his breath and leaned tiredly against a lamp pole.
His buttocks shot a spark of pain through his body.
With a curse on his lips and a careful hand on the hurt part of his body, Elijah jumped and walked on as fast as he could.
And even though he felt like shit, Elijah could not help the smile that crossed his face as his thoughts went to his friends…
~*~*~*~
Elijah was pretty nervous. That he got the role of Frodo might be the best thing that ever happened to his career, but he would be away from home for more than one fucking year. He had never known a feeling like home sickness and was sure he wouldn’t begin to feel it right now, but that wasn’t the point.
He didn’t know any of them. He didn’t know his colleagues at work. He didn’t know the director, he just had vaguely heard about a movie called Braindead or something like that. Elijah knew nothing more than names and he was determined to find out more.
So it happened that Hannah and he sat down in front of the computer and searched all about the Internet for information.
The first one was Sean Astin; Hannah remembered him from The War of the Rose and the name Astin wasn’t unknown in the business, too. It didn’t take much time to find a bit about Mister Astin out. His parents worked as actors and directors, he was married, had one daughter and played in a couple of good films. Elijah noted all this on a piece of paper and they looked for the next one:
Sean Bean. Hannah was shocked as her brother really wanted to look for information.
“He’s playing Alec Trevelyan in Golden Eye!”
Elijah raised an eyebrow. “Who please?”
Hannah rolled her eyes. “The bad one.”
He just giggled, swallowed a banter and noted “Golden Eye; the bad one” on his list.
Cate Blanchett followed. Elijah just wrote “Elizabeth”.
“Whoever this Orlando Bloom is,” Hannah said after half an hour of a frustrating search, “He’s the most unknown guy you’ll ever meet.”
“Fresh meat,” Elijah replied, finishing the pig he had drawn beside Orlando Bloom’s name and looked at the next guy.
“Billy Boyd...”
“Never heard of him.”
“Me neither, sis.”
Hannah sighed heavily:
“I really don’t know why I’m doing this with you.”
“’Cause you want to know who I’m going to spend the next two years of my life with,”
Elijah joked. All he heard from Hanna in return was a choked sob and then he nearly fell off his chair as she hugged him tightly.
“Sis... dear, what’s up?” he asked, confused, and caressed her back.
“Two years! Two long years you won’t be here and what will be after it? When it’s all over? I mean... two fucking years! That’s such a long time, and it won’t be over with the ending of the shoots, will it?”
To hear her snivels was more than Elijah could stand. He himself was moved to tears as he hugged her in reply. They rested their foreheads against each other’s.
“It’ll be okay, Hannah. Trust me. Everything will be okay. Whatever is going to happen, I won’t leave you and mum, not like dad. I’ll be there, okay, honey?”
Hannah looked into his amazing blue eyes and searched for the truth. Even if her brother was a damn good actor, he could never hide anything from her.
Elijah felt her doubts and took hold of her hand.
“Please, just trust me, Hannah.”
“How can I trust you when you’re lying to me and mum?”
She watched him intensely, noticed how he squirmed under her words, and noticed guilt darken his beautiful eyes.
“When you come home drunk, lost and crying; when you smell like an enormous joint and tell me you didn’t have one; when you’re bruised and hurt and try to hide it from us? When I have the fucked up feeling that I’ve already lost you and have no fucking clue why? How shall I trust you then?”
Elijah dropped his head, unable to stand her strong but begging gaze anymore. He had fucked up. Again.
“You have no choice,” he answered quietly, brushed the tears off of her cheek, and felt like an asshole.
Billy Boyd was listed on some theatre-casts. He seemed to be a Scot, not well known, but from the pictures Elijah saw he’d say that he liked the guy. He had a bright, honest laughter and green eyes, full of warmth and friendly welcomes. Elijah knew this look from his mother when she watched him and Hannah, but Billy Boyd seemed to carry this feeling of “I’m in love with everything” in his heart every time.
“He looks… like mum.”
Hannah just nodded, took the pen out of her brothers’ hands and wrote down: “Harbour during the storm.”
Elijah smiled.
The next hobbit was Dominic Monaghan. All that Elijah and Hannah found was a movie named Hostile Waters (Elijah wasn’t even sure that he’d find it at the DVD shop) and some pictures.
But fuck! The pictures were unbelievable!
They both stared at the screen like it would turn into a porn video.
“Awesome,” Elijah broke the silence after ten minutes of just-watching-and-unable-to-do-something-else. “Fucking awesome!”
Hannah couldn’t let go. “You know what? I never thought I’d ever say that, but this guy looks as good as you! Look at these eyes!”
Elijah couldn’t disagree - she was all too right. This Monaghan guy looked damn good!
“Yeah,” he answered after another minute of suspiring and sighing, “Look like the sea right before a storm...”
Hannah glanced at him. He noticed what he’d just said and blushed a bit, but she didn’t say anything.
At the end, they had created quite a good list of most of the people Elijah was going to hang around with during the next two years.
That evening the family spent their time watching movies, Elijah with a list on his knees and a pair of grey eyes haunting him…
~*~*~*~
Elijah smiled when he remembered his first thoughts about his friends. Yeah, he really had to phone Hannah and mum. Tell them he was alright, calm them down a bit. They didn’t know he was at the edge of sanity and they shouldn’t. Nobody should.
Elijah’s thoughts wandered around with his feet, sometimes at his work the day after tomorrow, sometimes back home.
He forgot about lighting his cigarette and when he woke up out of his racing mind, he found himself in front of their trailer. Loud laughter and voices reached his ears:
There was Viggo’s tone, dark, mumbling, and a medley of every-accent-Elijah-could-think-of into one; Sean’s familiar American tone, sounding protective and talking-ever-and-ever-on; Billy’s voice, a bit higher than the others and with the hard Scottish accent, but unexpectedly enjoyable; Orlando’s mesmeric one, in between American and British English; and at last Dominic’s voice, deep, a little bit hoarse, using a curse Elijah taught
him.
He couldn’t help but grin as he put his key into the lock. When it clicked, the door slammed open and Elijah stumbled forward and landed right into Viggo’s arms.
“’ Evening, Vig,” he mumbled, embarrassed, and pulled quickly away. He did like
Viggo’s embraces, but he was afraid of them, too. They were too protective, too... fatherly. Even if Elijah sometimes wished for such embraces, he was on the other hand afraid of them...
Stop thinking!
Viggo just smiled and answered softly, “It’s two o’clock in the morning Elijah.”
“Well, morning then.”
The older man closed the door behind Elijah, stepped back and took his seat on the kitchen-chair again. The three hobbits looked up as the youngest of them finally followed and sank down on a chair.
“Elwood!” Orlando screamed happily and threw a peanut at his head. Elijah could have sworn that he was drunk.
“Guys, did you fill him up?” he asked and pointed at the elf, who didn’t seem to notice his words and hummed a song that sounded ominously like the Sailor Moon theme.
“You mean like we did to you? No chance mate, we won’t make the humiliation easier for you,” Billy answered with a grin and got up from the armchair he had been sitting in. “Tea, mate?”
“Fuck you!” Elijah replied and felt himself answering the grin. “Tea’s nice, but right now a beer would be better.”
“Whatever you want, my minor,” Billy chuckled and reached inside the fridge, while Elijah closed his eyes, his face full of desperation. He didn’t have a chance to shoot anything back because Sean did so for him. Elijah thanked him silently.
“Shut up, Billy, or your words will cut someone in the end. They’re biting enough.”
Billy thought about protesting, but then grinned only wilder and placed a cool beer in Elijah’s hands. “Think you’re right, everything’s possible if I’m drunk.”
He leaned forward then, pulled Elijah into a firm embrace and whispered softly, “You’re okay, mate?”
Elijah smiled. He opened his eyes and felt a warm feeling flowing out of these green, kind eyes and into his body as they watched him with concern.
“’Course I‘m.”
And it wasn’t even a lie. With all of them around, he felt safe. They’d caught him and held him until he was safe from falling into the abysm of his fucking mind.
Billy smiled back, squeezed him once more and fell down into his armchair again. The Scott always seemed to know what the people needed.
A comfortable silence followed between the six guys, only interrupted by Orlando’s quiet giggles and the soft pop! when Elijah opened his bottle. He swallowed half of the beer at once, thankful for the alcohol. Besides the hug, that was the second thing he really wanted.
“Elijah, don’t you want to take those clothes off?” Sean asked at last, but was interrupted by Dom who had looked darkly into the fire the entire time since Elijah had arrived and now shot an annoyed look at Sean.
“Can’t you just shut up for ten fucking short minutes? Goddamn, this New Zealand-beer is even worse than the American one! Shit!” Another string of curses followed until Dominic sank, depressed and exhausted, deeper into the couch.
Elijah watched his mate’s behaviour with surprise - that wasn’t the Dom he knew. Not the always laughing, always joking, always-caring Dominic, but one who was surely dead drunk. Something must had happened since he went out for the Dark Room.
He sighed and then remembered the date... the fucking date! Of course, it was too obvious. Orlando had gone out for a date that night and was drunk by now. But what was wrong with Dom?
Elijah looked helplessly at Billy, but the Scot only smiled again and invited him with a short nod onto the couch next to Dominic. Even if Elijah had no idea what game he was playing, he knew that it would end well for all of them.
Billy got up again and said, “Sean’s right. Take these things off; I’ll make you some tea. It’s cold out there and if you don’t keep warm you’ll get ill.”
“Never again!” Elijah replied, grinning, “Not after Bree.”
Billy and Sean laughed out loudly and even Dominic couldn’t hide a short smile. Viggo only grinned, “Oh, Elijah, I’d have changed places with you at any time...”
“Oh, come on!” Sean sighed and leaned back against his armchair, “Please, Viggo, leave it.”
But the actor didn’t even think about it. He just placed his chair nearer to Sean and touched the hobbit lightly on the arm. Sean pulled back as if he thought his hand would be a spider.
“Why?” he asked, “Lying together must have been fantastically warm...”
Elijah laughed at the look of discomfort on Sean’s face, even if his inner parts were squirming. It had been more than fantastically warm, it had been fucking amazing. He was thankful that he could go into the wardrobe to hide his blushing face.
The coat, the gloves, the scarf... all not his own. Elijah smiled weakly and pressed his cold face into the warm cotton of the coat he’d used. He smelled a mixture of smoke and Dominic’s own aroma and enjoyed it. What would he give if he could smell every part of Dom’s body, anywhere, anytime... his hair, his skin, his cum...
Elijah pulled back at once and escaped back into the small living room. His face burned even more. He loved these guys much more than every other person in the whole world, but not in this way. He could not.
But he still had Dominc’s smell in his nose and inhaled deeply to enjoy it.
Having a crush is completely okay. Just do not go any further.
Elijah swallowed a laugh about the thought of him, having a crush in this important situation. What did a crush mean, anyway? It was useless, some sort of teeny-problem.
And Elijah Wood really shouldn’t have to handle teeny-problems.
No, he shouldn’t, and he wasn’t. It was different when he thought of Dom. He had of course felt it before, this fucked-up-thing Zack used to describe as “the need to fuck someone senseless” and Hannah talked about every spare minute, calling it, helplessly captured in dreams, “love”. Elijah had felt it in the same way about five years ago, when he had his first and only girlfriend. At that time he believed in love, but that was long ago. There was no love. Neither with Dom nor with someone else.
Elijah sat down beside Dom and took the cup of hot tea in front of him, lightly shaking. He puffed and was thankful for the warm air that gently touched his face, then looked around:
The “discussion” between Sean and Viggo had gone on; Sean defended himself bravely against Viggo’s attacks, who was seeming to have fun. Billy laughed into a pillow to hide it from Sean and made some tries to help him. Orlando was sleeping by now, his mouth slightly opened, his lids fluttering. He’d have a dreadful headache tomorrow.
Dominic was the other way around: he had his lips pressed together tightly, breathing firmly through his nose. His arms lay uselessly aside his body that tiredly hang in a position in-between sitting and laying. His eyes were closed but he wasn’t asleep.
Elijah took a little swallow of tea, bit his tongue because it was so hot and reached for his beer but it got only more injured by the suddenly following cold.
“Fuck,” he cursed under his breath.
“Yeah, life’s fucking sad, isn’t it?”
Mildly surprised that he got an answer, Elijah looked again at Dom and found his eyes fully open, watching him in a strange way. Electric shocks ran trough his body under this look, but he managed to smile and replied calmly: “Yeah, far too sad. Want another beer, Dommie?”
Dominic sighed and flung his head against the couch back. “No thanks. Y’ know, it’s the fact that I’m already pissed and that I don’t want to hurt any of you in the end. Would be terribly possible now.”
He rubbed his eyes and placed his elbows tiredly onto his knees.
Elijah had no idea what to tell him. He had seen his own feelings reflected in those electrifying grey eyes for a little second and the seriousness in there had shocked him a bit.
“Dom...” he began hesitantly, not knowing where to start, but was interrupted by Sean, calling, no, begging for him:
“Fuck, Lijah, help me with that faggot!”
Billy cried out his laughter loudly now and fell on his knees. Elijah joined him while he said, “Please, Viggo, let my poor Sam go. He’s mine already and truly loyal, isn’t he? Wouldn’t ever leave me, neither for king nor emperor?”
Viggo grinned as he placed his chair in some distance to Sean and answered dramatically:
“I knew there’s something going on between the two of you. But it will have no good ending, mark my words! Frodo-lo will leave you and instead take Gollum, because he can change his whore every night: for hot, smutty nights Gollum, and for tender, caressing nights Smeagol...”
The trailer walls shook as they laughed aloud. There were some heavy knocks on the wall they shared with Ian’s trailer, but it stopped soon when he saw that he couldn’t calm them anyway. After it got a bit quieter in there, Viggo got to his feet and yawned.
“Gentleman, we’ll see you tomorrow. I’m going to take this girlie...” he nodded towards Orlando, who was snoring loudly now, “...home and then I’ll get some sleep. There are barely any hours of my free day left and I don’t want the make-up assistant shouting at me tomorrow because they can’t cover the dark circles ‘round my eyes.”
Everyone laughed again; Billy helped Viggo transporting Orlando into the car and then shouted at last, “Have a nice day of work tomorrow!”
Which was replied by the hooter and a screaming Billy, running into the house and slamming the front door.
“This guy will kill me sooner or later. He really tried to hit me with his car!”
“Too much of the bad New Zealand beer, I guess,” Sean said and shifted uncomfortably.
Elijah tittered and rubbed his tired eyes. “What was up with Orli?”
“No idea, mate...” Billy answered and pointed motherly at the tea in front of Elijah, “...and if you’re not going to drink that fucking tea during the next two seconds I’ll have to tell the police that you’re underage and drink like an admiral of the red.” Elijah muttered and swallowed it carefully - his tongue still burned - while the Scott went on:
“He took off happily for his date and returned two hours later, in a total rage. Sean and I tried to calm him down, but we didn’t get it until Viggo came around. When Orli had a normal colour in his face again, he went depressive and didn’t talk to anybody. I couldn’t even abstain him from reaching the fridge and getting drunk.” Light reproval was in his
voice as he’d obviously been disappointed with himself.
Elijah met his eyes and smiled encouraging but weakly.
“It’s not your fault Bills. He’ll tell us tomorrow after work...”
“If his headache will let him come to work, you mean,” answered Dom suddenly, instead of Billy. His eyes were closed again.
Elijah stared at him.
“It doesn’t really matter because it’s our free day tomorrow and we won’t meet him on set anyway...”
“Yeah, right. Doesn’t matter that Orli will have dreadful headache until he wants to scream, does it?”
Elijah frowned and asked confusedly, “I don’t understand, Dom...”
“That was utterly clear, because you’re just a fucking child, Lij.”
Elijah stared at Dominic, searching for the tease, but he couldn’t find more than drunk wrath and frustration and felt his own temper rising. He closed his eyes to control his feelings.
Only one second more and he might have seen the pain and hurt deep, deep down in Dominic’s soul, but as he opened his lids again, his friend had hid them behind anger again.
“And what the fuck is driving you to the top?!” Elijah asked palsiedly, his voice louder than necessary.
Dom’s head snapped around and shot angry looks towards Elijah.
“Nothing you’d understand, peewee!”
Bang!This word broke down the wall he had built up and Elijah shouted, “Then why are you bothering me for giving Billy a little bit of comfort?! Shit! Shit, shit, shit!”
He got up and stumbled out of the room, taking his cigarettes and his flue with him. Outside he leaned back against the frigid wall, lit one cigarette and took a deep drag. Everything sledded out of his control and Elijah began to cry. He sank down the wall, sobbing like a child, not knowing why and at the same time knowing all too well.
Why had Dominic been so fucking incensed when he didn’t seem to care about Orlando’s health?
“Dom.”
Dominic didn’t even hear Billy’s soft spoken word. He was too scared of how Elijah had walked out just a minute ago. He stared at the door, feeling guilt and shame, but still fought with his anger. It wasn’t Elijah’s fault, he knew it wasn’t, but... fuck! Why had Mister-just-nineteen to be so blissfully ignorant?!
“Dom!”
Billy’s voice, louder now, brought Dominic back to life. He looked up and felt Sean’s shocked eyes on him, but avoided them and met Billy’s ones instead. The green was filled with understanding, but also with reproach.
“That wasn’t very nice.”
Dom squirmed under his voice and dropped his eyes at last.
“I know. I’m sorry”, he mumbled and felt for his surprise tears burning in the corner his eyes. He covered his face with his hands to hide them from Billy and Sean. It had just been a terrible evening...
Something heavy sat down next to him and Dom threw himself into Billy’s embrace which protected him from the world outside there. He felt the gently stroking hands on his back and mumbled again and again:
“I don’t want to hurt him, I’m so sorry... .”
“Well”, Billy whispered and breathed calming warmth onto Dom’s neck, “maybe you’ll better tell that him.”
He pressed him tighter for a few seconds and let go then slowly. He smiled at Dominic, bruised one single tear off of his cheek and left the room. Sean hesitated, got up then too and patted on Dom’s shoulder.
“It’ll work, don’t worry.”
Dom nodded, waited until the American had entered the bedroom too and gazed into the space then.
Minutes passed and when he got up to speak to Elijah, he still had no idea what he was going to say.
Elijah had sobbed like a girl for a few minutes until he got control about himself again. He tried to fight the shakes back that made his heart hammering louder every second. An endless mantra filled his mind, going ever on and on:
“...doesn’t matter that Orli will have dreadful headache until he wants to scream, does it...?”
“...that was utterly clear, because you’re just a fucking child...”
“Fuck you!”, he murmured under his breath and regretted it at once. Dom was drunk. He had not been able to control his temper, but Elijah himself had. He should have stayed cool, calm... .
“...you’re just a fucking child...”
“...fucking child...”
“...child...”
He banged his head against the trailer wall in frustration. That was it. Dom thought he was a child, living in a world of fairy-tales. And Orlando-fucking-Bloom was the one who seemed to fit in his imagination of an adult.
His head fell down on his knees again. Elijah wrapped his arms around his legs and closed his eyes to relax. He breathed deeply.
Breath. Just breath. Bloody hell, where are my cigarettes?!
He ran his hands about the ground and searched for the packet. He so needed a smoke!
It was empty. The damn-fifteen-cigarette-packet was empty!
“You bought it this morning. When did you smoke all of them?”
Elijah nearly jumped to his feet as Dominic spoke. He had not even heard the door.
Dom watched his friend carefully and their looks met for a second. He swallowed hard as he noticed the red-swollen eyes of the younger man, then Elijah dropped his head again. He shivered and stared at his breath, escaping his mouth in white clouds. Dom took his coat and put it around Elijah’s shoulders. He made some sullen tries to get it away, but
Dominic held it in place:
“Lij, it’s freezing cold out here. You need it.”
“I’m not your fucking child, Dominic!”
Dominic. The name hit him like a punch. Elijah never called him Dominic, he had never introduced himself as Dominic. He had always been Dom, Dommie or Sblomie.
“I know... but please, take it.”
Elijah hesitated, but what choice did he have at last? It really was cold. So he wrapped it like a blanket around his body and continued staring into the space. He felt the urgent need to either beat or kiss Dominic the next time he had to look at him.
Dom sank down beside him heavily. His drunken senses were quite woozy. He had the feeling that the ground was moving and tried to catapult him away from Elijah and with a rotating view and the ominous knocks against his temples which announced a close headache, it was hard to concentrate on what he was going to say:
“Lij... I’m sorry. Look, I had a bad day and I know that this is no reason for making strife. I know that you wanted to comfort Billy in there and I know that would have been my fucking duty because I’m his best mate. I know that I behaved like an arsehole. I didn’t want to shout at you and I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m sorry. Whatever I’ve said that had make you so upset, I regret every single syllable.”
Dom’s words reached Elijah’s heart and melted away the anger. He felt tears filling his eyes again and didn’t dare to look at him. A quiet sob escaped his throat.
“Lij?”
But he couldn’t look at him. He felt already how the tears were moving - fuck! Why did he cry every time situations went a bit more emotional? Ashamed of his tears and scared of what would happen if he’d only glance now into Dominic’s eyes, Elijah didn’t respond and held his head down.
Two fondly, scraggly fingers raised his chin until their looks met once more. Elijah’s mind melted away as he saw these grey, light silver eyes. He sunk into them, watching the glint of the stars and the beautiful illusion of a stormy sea at night with the waves reflecting a broken, white full moon. They were full of guilt, care and comfort and soon Elijah closed his eyes again. Tears were running unhamperedly down his cheeks now, wetting his chapped lips. He couldn’t bear to watch those deep irises anymore, the next look would make his self-control go completely and forever.
Coolish lips touched his burning lids. Dom’s hoarse, gentle voice, breathing warmth on his ears, said quietly:
“Look at me, Lijah.”
He shook his head lightly, but Dom whispered it again, “Please, Lij, look at me”, and again.
Elijah opened his eyes to watch Dominic kissing the tears off of his cheeks. His whole body trembled and squirmed for more, but his mate pulled away and took his face into his hands:
“I’m sorry. I really am. Please, don’t cry...”
They were staying like this for a short eternity, only Dom’s caressing thumbs and his beautiful eyes and his half from the shadow covered face. Then he broke eye-contact and hugged Elijah firmly.
“We’re there for you - I’m there for you. You know that, don’t you?”
He nodded shortly and pressed himself firmer onto Dominic. He remembered the time after Bree again: Pete bought this raining tower and they managed during the few shots on set to make all of them getting ill. Four Hobbits, all fighting with fever and then the scene in the marshes with all the midges and the wetness and the cold. Damn, that had been a week! At the end they had shared one bed because they felt like some fucking icicles in the summer of New Zealand.
Dom had been warm. That was one thing Elijah remembered. Dom had been so warm that everyone thought he was near to death. He swore the other hobbits that he felt just as cold as them, but they didn’t believed him a second. It was one of Dom’s favourite flaws, hiding in his memories somewhere nobody - even not Billy - could go, coming out every time nobody needed it: The urgent need to disguise his healthy if its state could cause problems for anyone.
A weak grin passed Elijah’s face. Seen by now, some of the incidents that happened back there were quite amusing what maybe made understandable why they laughed everytime they talked about the “Bree-sickness”, even if it had been the most frantic experience
they ever made.
Or they only laughed to avoid crying.
~*~*~
“Fuck!”
Elijah rubbed the elbow he had just fallen on and cursed under his breath. He sat up and looked around, but not with many forecasts. His glasses lay somewhere on the nightstands at the opposite of the bed. The bed where he had lain in for some peaceful hours and fallen out seconds ago.
Elijah cursed once more. The bed was too small for four persons, couldn’t they see it? Who had the idea of sleeping together this night to be kept warm by each other?
He ignored the fact that it had actually been him who had made this suggestion and reached for the edge of the bed. His hands wrapped around the bright, smoothly warm wood and gripped into the sheets as well. He needed two trials to get up. Once on his feet, Elijah glanced around:
He was fucking blind without is contacts and wondered seriously how he could make the way through the untidy room to his glasses without breaking a leg or at least falling badly on his face.
There was no need to wonder, of course he didn’t manage it; he hit the table two times with the same knee, knocked over a couple of CDs that crushed down on his toes and, when only two little metres separated him from his glasses, a plong! and an aloud “Fuck you, Monaghan!” was heard because Elijah stumbled across a pack of books his mate left there and fell hardly on his nose.
But the others were sleeping like the logs, or the spoons. They weren’t disturbed neither by his cried out despite nor by his ruthless tramp through the room into the kitchen.
Elijah searched, still half-blind in the darkness, the cupboard with the kleenex but missed it and opened the fridge instead. Coldness and glare hit his face in one sudden flash.
Elijah shut his eyes frantically and smashed the fridge door. It was all so fucked up!
Still fighting with white bolts in front of his view, he grabbed blindly for the kitchen-roll, his nose bleeding like a butchered pig. Pressing the paper firmly against his nostrils, he finally sunk on one of the small chairs and waited.
Waited. Waited. And waited some more.
When his nose finally had calm down, his hands shook so hard he couldn’t get them under his control. His body shivered and slight goose bumps were everywhere. His veins felt empty or, better said, filled with iced blood; his heart stood still and for a terrifying moment Elijah thought even the air in his lungs had frozen. He struggled with his breathing, feeling like dying in-between the next seconds. It was a dreadful illness that rushed about all of them after the Bree and Marshes shoots. Suddenly mildly climatic New Zealand was as cold as the Antarctic and they felt like Sir Ernest Shackleton - or more like Scott, left alone in a desert of coldness.
Elijah thought about making himself a tea to warm up, but decided against this. Their little bed was good enough. His feet wouldn’t held him any longer.
So he entered the room, walked over to the bed (“Fuck you, Monaghan!”) and glanced at his friends: They were all quite pale and had dark-covered eyes. Rest was what they need - said the doctor.
Rest.
Elijah smiled as he watched them quietly, wishing everyone silently a healthy sleep and comfortable dreams. Then he took his glasses off, put them on the nightstands (this time the right one) and crawled back under the blanket.
Warmth welcomed him and made this position though of his little space a lot more comfortable. He cuddled himself against Dom’s chest, placing his head under his chin and sighed blissfully into his neck. Instinctively, Dom wrapped an arm around the little body besides him and pulled him as near as possible. He murmured something inscrutable and shifted his head. Scratchy stubbles tickled Elijah’s forehead and long fingers held a gentle grip on his waist.
Goose bumps were all over Elijah’s body, from his shoulders to his toes, and delicious shivers ran down his back. He purred like a cat, enjoying the light embrace Dom presented him and breathed air full Dominic. Their chests went up and down in the same rhythm soon. He listened to his easefully pounding heartbeat and suddenly felt protected and save, like a child in its mother’s arms. He forgot about Dark Rooms; he forgot about his injured heart; he forgot about everything else than Dominic Monaghan who was holding him closely and breathing reassuringly in his ear... .
As Elijah woke up again he felt immediately that there was something wrong. First he noticed that the fridge was peeping stridently. He moaned tiredly.
Fuck! I left it open!
But that wasn’t what had woken him.
A fresh breeze, coming in from the open window, parted the curtains. That was actually odd, because Billy never forgot to close the windows. Regardless of how much he had drunk, regardless how shitty he felt, he always did it.
Elijah thought about going and checking Billy’s vital signs, but the Scot lay too far away... it was so wonderfully warm here... .
Awareness hit him with the power of a live atomic bomb. It was too warm. In fact, it was pretty hot.
He brought a bit distance between him and his mates, looking for something he couldn’t name. He only knew that he was lightly sweating already. Elijah reached blindly for his glasses, missed the nightstands and fell on something hot, almost wet what felt horribly like human skin. His fingers ran upwards, touching soft lips and a cherry-like nose until going about the nasal bone to a forehead.
Elijah frowned. The cold grip of fear clutched his heart and stopped it beating.
Dominic was burning. Burning like a fucking big ball of fire.
“Shit”, he managed to spit out. The peeping turned up inside his head and became louder than a volcanic eruption.
He released that Dom’s hand was stroking his wrist in a constant rhythm; firmer, softer, firmer, softer. Every time it became firmer, Elijah nearly felt how Dom’s fingers left red marks on his skin, when it went softer, the hand struggled and nearly lost its grip.
Elijah reached for his hand, taking it into his, feared so much to loose Dominic... the fear came up from the deepest depth of his soul, unknown, foreign. He didn’t know it, it had never hit him that strong as now, feeling Dom burning from inside... fucking burning... .
The peeps of the fridge became one loud screech, never stopping, never ending. Elijah stared helplessly at his friend, scared, doubtful, not knowing what do to. He was lamed by the force of the illness that had taken control about them, about him. He remembered
Dom joking this evening:
“Did you hear what the doctor said? It’s good as long as it’s not getting worse... .”
Elijah saw him in front of his eyes with this mischievous expression on his face, grabbing some snow and forming it into a ball. He remembered exactly the begging, but full of giggling “Please not!” Billy let out before the ball hit him straight into his face. And he remembered too well how they ended up, lying on the ground, laughing and drawing suns and flowers and hearts and other childlike stuff into the snow, right next to the paints of joints, guns and dead bodies.
How Dominic made a huge heart and wrote their names in it. How they stood there and only watched it, everyone moved deep inside his heart (even though they didn’t admit this fact ever to Orlando), until Sean shooed them away into the direction of their trailer. How he had shook like a girlie and how Dom had put his warm coat around Elijah’s shoulders.
And now Dominic had fever! He himself felt just slightly warm while Dominic trembled and clutched his hand hard, welding beads running down his temples.
“Lij?”
The bathroom door had swung open. A dark figure was framed by the electric light, but Elijah knew the voice. He tried to breath, tried to speak:
“Sean... .”
Sean walked slowly over to the pale, shaking person that was his colleague and friend. The bathroom lamp lighted the room only vaguely, making shadows darken the younger man’s face.
“What’s wrong, peewee? Why are you crying?”
Elijah didn’t even notice that he cried. He didn’t feel it, felt just Dom’s hot hand and the comfort Sean’s soft words gave him. He closed his eyes and sobbed, didn’t know why either. Why had he lost control, why didn’t he stay calm?
“He’s... fuck, Sean, he’s... .”
Sean’s eyes narrowed on Dominic, on the glancing sweat on his face, the painful distorted mien and the conjunct hands of the two men. The back of his hand placed itself automatically on Dominic’s forehead to feel the temperature, in the same way like he’d checked Allie’s one.
“Fuck”, he only whispered and Elijah’s eyes that just opened when he heard Sean’s voice
shut again.
“Wake Billy and take some wet towels. I’ll call the doctor and then we have to keep our dear Merry pretty cold.”
Sean’s voice caused more tears running down his cheeks and leaving a salted taste on his lips. Elijah barely had enough courage to break the grip that banded him and Dom together, because he so fucking feared he’d loose him.
Never loosing again!
Not one of them!
Not *him*!
The fridge was still ringing like an alarm bell.
~*~*~
Elijah smiled and leaned his head onto Dom’s chest again. Dominic’s heart was pounding peacefully. He felt like a glowing campfire and not like a fucking forest fire, thanks God.
Elijah closed his eyes and let his fingers wander lazily about Dominic’s arm down to his hand, where he united them and calmed down at last. He had to giggle quietly as he remembered Dom’s awakening after the first fever attack: The British had just grinned wicked at them and said something like “Nice glasses, Lij” before he fell asleep again.
And Elijah hated him for saying it. He didn’t like his glasses that much and had sworn himself that he would never show them neither Dominic nor Billy because he knew they would end up with bantering him.
They actually did a few times, but every time they “discussed” this topic, Elijah went silent and felt sudden fear. It had to be obviously how he felt because every time he pleaded them to stop they’d do. That was nothing usual.
Elijah sighed dreamily into Dom’s chest and got a snicker in reply. He looked up into his mate’s face who watched their hands... it seemed to fit, they felt right there, making a connection between the two men.
“So perfect... “, Elijah murmured to himself, more thinking aloud than really speaking.
“Sorry?”, Dom asked, but sounded absently himself too, still watching their fingers.
“Never mind... was thinking aloud.”
“No, please. Tell me.”
Elijah blushed and dropped his eyes. He felt Dom’s gaze on him and searched for a good answer to get him out of this embarrassment:
“Well... you know... thought just for a second... I mean, I wondered... where did you get this ring?”
Another snicker. Elijah risked a glance at his mate. He seemed to be truly amused, but still did not take the eyes off of their interlaced fingers:
“Viggo gave it to me. I don’t know what for. He just said: ‘The unknown is the only thing that we’re afraid of. Identification is the first step you have to make.’ You see this character? I still don’t know what it means, even after I and Billy searched everywhere and bothered Viggo till he got insane.”
Dom pointed at a little gravure in the silver. A memory flashed into Elijah’s mind at the view, but he couldn’t catch it. Then it was gone and he shrugged.
“No idea either, but it’s looking...”
“...fitting?” Dom finished his sentence, still staring at their hands. Then he leaded Elijah’s hand to his lips. He kissed it softly, barely touched the pale skin, and hold it there, his eyes shut.
Elijah couldn’t breath. His whole body was haunted by electric sparks, used to make him squirm and moan, but caught his breath instead. He searched for Dominic’s eyes, wanted to see the tease and mischievous in there but at the same time knew it’d hurt him too much.
But Dom avoided his look, let his hand go and grinned:
“Baby, you know I love you, but I’m not Viggo ok?”
Elijah looked at him irritated started to crawl away from Dominic. What the fuck did he mean? Viggo was gay; he never made a big secret about this. Was it that?
A strong arm wrapped around his waist and pulled him back into an embrace.
“Was only joking mate. It’s ok”, Dom whispered into his ear and then leaned back against the wall again, taking Elijah with him and holding him at his chest like a child.
Elijah snuggled into the hug and enjoyed the warm body beneath him again. Comfortable silent surrounded them. Dom played lost in thought with the younger man’s hair and then suddenly, out of nowhere, asked as if their conversation had never went any further:
“You bought the pack this morning. When did you smoke all of the cigarettes? When did you turn into a fucking chain smoker?”
Elijah shrugged as uninterested as he could:
“I had a lot of them down in the park, I think. You know, I told you I’d go there... needed some rest for a couple of hours.”
“Lij...”
The serious tone of Dominic’s voice made him look up.
“You weren’t at the park. You came from the direction of downtown. I saw you coming...” he placed a finger onto Elijah’s parted lips, who was halfway saying something, “no, listen! I don’t know why the fuck you’re lying at us. I have no idea what you’re doing there, but remember… we are right here for you. Everytime, everywhere.”
Elijah looked at the finger that locked his lips and then at Dominic who watched him with his stormy eyes, shooting heated blood through his veins.
Elijah pressed his lips firmly together to keep his tongue away from this delicious finger with the cool silver ring. It nearly shook in his mouth and pressed against his teeth, fighting against his sanity that became less with every second of contact between him and Dom. Their faces almost touched.
Two inches. Only two fucking inches... between you and this lips... fuck it, you have nothing to loose, just kiss him... kiss him... .
Elijah leaned forward... his actions weren’t under his control anymore. His hand took Dom’s finger away... he felt warm breath on his skin...
...and pulled back. It was more than only two inches. Between him and Dom lay a fucking great space that couldn’t be traversed. It wasn’t only that Dom was not fucking gay, there was so much more... it was a fucking great universe.
So Elijah just placed a sloppy kiss on his cheek and grinned:
“My dear Dom, you sound like a lesbian coozie!”
Dominic laughed and poked him away:
“Yep, and you behave like a little faggot. And that’s the thank for my consulation... you’re such a couple of ungraceful arses!”
Elijah giggled wildly while Dom shook his head and smiled. He got to his feet and offered a hand to his friend:
“Let’s get in there, mate, my toes are going to freeze every next second. And tomorrow are we going to buy you some hibernal clothes…you can’t borrow ours all winter!”
He nearly threw Elijah on his feet and they entered the trailer laughing, joking, kidding, struggling - as they were supposed to be. They checked if the windows were closed (“I know that it’ll be cold in here if there’d be open, Lijah, but you know that Billy always shuts them!”) and brushed their teeth together (“I can’t even remember the last time I did it! Shit, I’m ponging, am I not?”).
Elijah put his contacts out and then detected that he had no idea where he’d left his glasses. It took Dominic half an hour to find them between a CD and his script and another half hour for Elijah to take it away from Dom who found it funny to run around with the glasses on his nose and imitate Elijah’s typical behaviour.
“They’re really nice glasses”, he said, smirking. Elijah shot a nasty look at him and put them on:
“Dom, I warn you. Ever again a tease about my glasses and I’m going to kill you.”
Dominic only grinned in reply, but Elijah didn’t. He felt sick suddenly. He remembered the hot of the fever at which mercy Dom had been. It had been so fucking scary. The doctor had told them: If nobody would had noticed it, Dom’d had died during the night. The temperature had been exactly at 41,79 °C.
They got to bed muted. Billy and Sean were apparently asleep (though Elijah could have sworn that at least Billy would stay awake until both of them were in bed). The silence was only broken by the crackling sound of sheets and pillows until both of them had found a comfortable position.
“I wonder what happened at Orli’s date...”
Elijah looked to Dominic: His eyes were closed, but he surely spoke to him who shifted and answered uneasily:
“Yeah, me too. Listen, Dom, I do care about Orli. Of course it’s bad that he’ll have a
headache tomorrow... I think you misunderstood my words... .”
“No no, it’s ok. I overreacted. I was so angry... it wasn’t your fault. I didn’t want to shout at you. That was fucking unfair. You do understand a lot. I’m sorry, peewee.”
Elijah dug his face into the pillow. Dom sounded so fucking honestly... .
“Don’t call me peewee.”
Fuck! That had been so improperly!
“Why not? Everyone’s doing it.”
But you’re not everyone. You are more. And I hate you for being more.
“I don’t want you to. Am I calling you dad?”
A long time nothing. Then-
“Ok baby. As you like it... . Night.”
Elijah breathed deeply and answered, surprised by his hoarse voice:
“Night Dom. Sweet Dreams.”
He got a chuckle in reply and pressed his head deeper into the pillow. It was a crush. Only a crush. It’d go soon, it was only the fucked hormones.
A crush. A crush. A crush. A crush.
Elijah looked up to the dark form that was Dominic. Grey eyes looked back, glomming in the dark.
He buried his face back into the pillow as fast as possible.
Fuck!
TBC