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Finally it's time...please, folks...don't hate me for this but remember the warning...

Title: Smalltown
Series: Precious Years 8/10
Author:

sweetzattack
Pairings: DM/BB, DM/EW in series
Rating: PG-13
Warning: Character death in series
Summary: Even the deepest love of all sometimes turns out to be a troublesome thing...
Disclaimer: I own them and I cut this out of some newspaper I bought from a bavarian donkey 2346 years ago on Mars. *rolleyes* It's a LIE. Made UP. Wish I owned them nevertheless, so lemme dream ;o)
All titles and lyrics in this series taken from the wonderful Runrig.
x-posted to:

monaboyd and my own journal

You just walked in, looking tired but expectantly...until you saw us, still on our knees, pulling on two ends of the same blanket, trying to cover what you had noticed first.

I was sober within one quarter of a second.
“Billy, I...you...we...”
But you just wouldn’t listen.
You just stood there, staring at us in disbelief, before throwing a crumpled piece of paper right into my face.
I didn’t even have the time to pick it up before you just turned and ran off into the night, slamming the door behind you.

I forgot about Elijah, I forgot about our fight, I even forgot about the fact that I wasn’t wearing anything, when I followed you.

“Billy! Bills! Please wait! I have to explain this to you! Billy! Please, please, stay! I don’t love him, it’s you I love! Billy, PLEASE!”
But you didn’t turn around. You didn’t even slow down.
When I reached the driveway I just saw you speed off in some hired car.

My world seemed to stop.
This time, I *really* had fucked up for good. Literally even.
I didn’t feel the tears that were streaming down my face and I didn’t hear Elijah walking up to me. All I could feel and hear was the beating of my own heart which was turned into a painful mess.

“Come back in, Dommie...he’s gone.” Elijah finally whispered after wrapping me in a blanket and leading me across the backyard and into the house again.
Gently he handed me the paper you had thrown at me.
“Maybe there’s an adress on there. If there is, get dressed, I’ll call you a taxi.”
Very carefully not to rip it apart with my shaking hands, I unfolded the paper, but there was no adress. Just some lyrics I got to know quite well since I had met you.

Tell me where, oh, where has summer gone
It hasn’t come this year
You always cry when swallows fly
They confirm your darkest fears
When a bottle strikes
Down one man’s life
And his childrens’ lives as well
The full moon pulls you
Many times
To the outer edge of hell.

Tell me how
This life won’t let you go
Tell me how
This same old fool
Keeps coming back to you.

I think I must’ve passed out right there, on the floor, where you had caught me being fucked by one of our best mates, where I had messed up my entire life, where I had ruined my chance to get you back. You, the love of my life.

I really think I passed out, because the next thing I know is Elijah shaking me hard and slapping me in the face.
“Dom! Dommie!”
His voice sounded shrill and when I finally managed to open my eyes I saw tears streaming down his face that was twisted with pain.

He held out the receiver of our homephone to me and I mechanically took it and held it to my ear, listening to the voice of a stranger who introduced himself as “Detective Williams, Los Angeles Police Department”.

I couldn’t move or at least cry when he let me know that he was “very sorry to tell me that you had steered your car into a bridge pier and died the second you hit it”.