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fellowshippers2004-05-04 08:30 pm
perfect-oasis.livejournal.com) wrote in fellowshippers2004-05-04 08:30 pm
Of His Own Making, Part 3/3
Title: Of His Own Making, Part 3/3
Author: The Phantom Writer![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
silentnumbsmoke
Pairing: DM... DM/BB... DM/EW... BB/EW... DM/BB/EW... sorta...
Rating: PG-13
Feedback: It gives me warm fuzzies.
Disclaimer: It's all pretend.
Notes: My beta for this story,gypsyjolie, is wonderful in all ways. *huggles* She was very patient with me. *smiles* Also, a big hug to the lovely toasty_frog... this story is for you, Trish!
This isn't a happy story in any sense. Beware. 'Tis intense.
Beware of death. (*points* Don't say I didn't warn ya'.)
Make sure you read Parts 1 and 2 before this!
Part III
I’ve never liked wrestling: watching or participating. That is, unless ‘wrestling’ is just a polite way to say ‘fucking.’ Then I like it. But as the tall, dark man pins me down painfully, I know that I hate this definition of wrestling. The man with the vicious eyes is winning, of course. I’m unable to move my arms or my legs… it’s not a fair fight. I don’t know what this mysterious stranger has done to immobilize me, but I know that it would not be allowed in any known sport. Except perhaps rugby, but rugby defies a lot of normal sports rules in its acceptance of cruelty.
Struggling for the breath needed to curse the figure, muscles burning, I know that unless this struggle becomes much more fair, there’s absolutely no way I’ll win this fight for my life.
Bloody hell, get the fuck off me! He roars something that I cannot understand as I squirm and contort, trying to buck him off.
--------------------------------
“Dommie,” Billy pleaded, running a hand over the patient’s forehead in an attempted soothing motion. “Please, calm down, or they’ll never take you out of those bloody restraints! Please!”
“Billy,” Elijah choked out past his frightened tears, “Billy, what the fuck’s wrong with him?”
“I don’t know,” Billy admitted before tearing his gaze from his hospitalized friend, “I’ve never seen him like this before.” Turning fully, he ran a shaking hand over the day-old stubble on his chin. “I’ve never seen anyone like this before.”
“Fuck, Bills…” Elijah closed his eyes to block their thrashing friend from his view. “He’d been going downhill for so long… why didn’t we try harder to figure out what was wrong?”
“Don’t,” Billy snapped, his teeth clenched and his eyes wide, “fucking don’t talk about him in the past tense, Elijah.” He let out a deep breath, working on relaxing his body. “He’s not dead.”
‘Not yet…’ The thought hung unsaid in the air between them, as both turned to stare nervously down at their pale, shaking friend.
“I wonder what’s going on in his mind right now,” Elijah whispered before sighing in guilt. “I… I need…” He faltered before starting again. “It’s obvious he’s been having troubles… problems. And he’s kept them to himself.”
Working hard to keep his tears in check, Billy folded his arms protectively around his body. “I only hope he gets a chance to tell them to us,” he wavered, wincing as Dominic let out a whimper, accompanied by a violent twitch.
--------------------------------
His voice thunders on above me – so many curses and incoherencies that seem to blend and bleed together, but I can make out a single word: problems. Hah, I scoff, attempting to push the dark man off me, am I not dying off easily enough for you, is that your bloody problem? Fucking devil.
Fuck. That invisible drummer is back from his coffee break, with twice the adrenaline and ten times the force than before. My head is throbbing a deep, constant beat. Yes, it’s a constant beat. Proves I’m not dying, not yet spent. Take that, you fucking son of a bitch!
--------------------------------
If it weren’t for the fact that the heart monitor’s loud beeps were proof that Dominic was still alive, Billy would curse the annoying sounds for… for everything. For distracting him from his thoughts and reminding him of Dominic’s condition (making sure I never forget… as if I could forget. As if I could forget that my best mate was in this bloody hospital!), most of all.
Always the musician, Billy unconsciously paced to the constant beat of the heart monitor, therefore he noticed before Elijah when the tempo sped up. “Dom?” Billy turned his head to stare at his friend, letting out a deep sign as the beeps returned to normal.
“Billy,” Elijah started, his eyes wide. “Did he just flip us off?”
Eyebrows furrowed, Billy’s eyes moved over to the bed. “No,” he spoke, although he knew he sounded unsure. “Maybe someone in his dreams… but not us. He doesn’t know we’re here.”
“Don’t they usually say that if you talk to someone when they’re unconscious, they can hear you?”
“Maybe, but look at him, Elijah!” Billy snapped, at the end of his rope. “He’s twitching and he’s obviously caught up in a dream, in his unconscious world.” He took in a deep breath and repeated, “I’m sure he doesn’t know we’re here.”
--------------------------------
He’s always here. Always… Never leaving the back of my mind, plaguing my thoughts. He’s forcing me into an internal war, always fighting for control over my body and my thoughts. I haven’t been at peace with my mind for such a long time, it feels like, now. Because he’s fucking always there.
The darkness that surrounds me lifts. I can see, and suddenly my immobility makes sense. I’m in a car that is speeding down the highway, the seat belt strapping me to the seat. I struggle against its snug hold, but it only tightens against me. Turning my head to the right, I let out a loud curse – the tall, dark man is the driver.
I am dimly aware that, instead of watching the dark, rain-slickened road ahead of us, he is staring sideways at me. Staring, his eyes shining an ominous slate blue.
His hands raise mockingly from the steering wheel, though his gaze never leaves my face. I open my mouth; try to force out the scream building in my chest, to protest, but my vocal chords refuse to obey me. He laughs before his right hand points out the front windshield.
Blinding curiously, I realize that a strange silence has settled over everything. A muffled silence, like this dark man has taken the music box containing all the sounds of the world and muffled it with a thick wool blanket. The silence is portentous. Biting my lip against the panic, I turn obediently and stare forward into the darkness.
Squinting to see past the death that surrounds the vehicle, my eyes watering at the strain, I suddenly know why my enemy is smirking.
Emerging from the dark in a rumble of gears, is an eighteen-wheeler, gleaming malevolently blue, chrome bumper like teeth, towering above the car.
I had stupidly played ‘chicken’ before, back when I was truly loving my life, not just going through the motions. I had been the ‘chicken’ champion, nonchalantly leaving my wrist dangling from the steering wheel, never flinching as the other car swerved out of the way at the last second, calling me a ‘crazy fucker’ through the open window. I had loved the adrenaline rush, the thrill of flouting danger.
But now, unable to tear my eyes from the Goliath of the roads, I feel no surge of elation. I feel nothing as I stare, the seat buckle holding me in my trapped position. My deadened gaze takes in the stop sign… the traffic sign that the semi driver is ignoring. The stop sign that, if heeded, could save my life.
--------------------------------
“God, Dominic,” Billy murmured, tiredly.
Elijah whimpered softly. “Billy, what’s going on?” Dominic was trembling, his body tense and straining against the restraints encircling his wrists and ankles. At the blank look on Billy’s face, Elijah continued in a whisper. “Listen.”
Billy closed his eyes, listening. It was silent, with the exception of the heart monitor pounding and the shuffling of the nurses’ white sneakers in the hallway outside the room. His musty eyes snapped open when he realized what Elijah was referring to. The thankfully repetitive beeps of the heart monitor were, slowly but surely, gaining speed. Billy’s own heart beat, which was sounding in echoes in his skull, moved to the new, faster beats as well.
Rushing to the bedside and clasping Dominic’s hand, Billy let out a soft gasp and ran his hand over Dom’s forehead. “Dom?”
“Fuck,” Dominic mouthed frantically, turning his head, desperate for an escape.
“Dommie?!?” Billy exclaimed, his tone panicked.
--------------------------------
Fuck. I see him. Of course, he’s right here next to me in the car, but… as the cerulean blue bursts from the dark abyss, and the semi collides with our car, I see the driver… it’s the same man who’s – I turn my head and jump – the tall, dark man has disappeared from the driver’s seat. I’m alone in the car, stuck in this trance of staring into Billijah’s eyes, the driver of the semi. My death.
--------------------------------
“Dom!” Elijah let out a yell as Billy’s palm slammed down on the ‘call’ button.
Billy couldn’t tear his eyes from his best friend, his friend whose heart had just stopped beating. Billy’s fingers pressed urgently on the button, fighting the urge to clap his hands over his ears to block out the tone of the blaring flat line. “Christ, fix him!” he snapped as a group of nurses rushed into the room, forcing them away from the bed.
“Please don’t leave me, my Dommie,” Billy whispered, pulling a sputtering Elijah into his embrace, neither able to see Dominic past the barrier of nurses.
--------------------------------
My spirit leaps at the thought that I’m leaving this madness, and I’ve never been more relieved. My problems are finally over. This nightmare, this never ending nightmare, can finally end. And I definitely won’t be waking up to my life – the worst nightmare of all – again.
The flat line that fills my senses sounds like a lullaby, lulling me to a deep, nightmare-free sleep.
--------------------------------
The nurses retreated, and Billy knew. “No, god damn it!” he cried as the staff left the room solemnly, sending sympathetic glances at the two of them. “Dominic,” Billy’s voice wavered as he stumbled towards the hospital bed. “Don’t you dare leave like this, Dom!”
Elijah was silent, staring at the heart monitor with wide eyes.
“Dommie,” Billy’s voice softened. “Please… I… I love you, don’t go!” He bowed his head, taking one of Dominic’s hands. Fuck. He suddenly wished to be naïve, or ignorant, as Elijah sometimes was… But somehow he knew that this was Dominic’s choice This was Dominic’s end.
Pressing his lips to Dom’s cooling hand, Billy drew back hesitantly. “Goodbye, Dommie.”
--------------------------------
I smile bitterly. It’s my happy ending. I wish Elijah and Billy good lives, together or apart… but without their docile grave digger.
Author: The Phantom Writer
silentnumbsmoke Pairing: DM... DM/BB... DM/EW... BB/EW... DM/BB/EW... sorta...
Rating: PG-13
Feedback: It gives me warm fuzzies.
Disclaimer: It's all pretend.
Notes: My beta for this story,
gypsyjolie, is wonderful in all ways. *huggles* She was very patient with me. *smiles* Also, a big hug to the lovely toasty_frog... this story is for you, Trish! This isn't a happy story in any sense. Beware. 'Tis intense.
Beware of death. (*points* Don't say I didn't warn ya'.)
Make sure you read Parts 1 and 2 before this!
Part III
I’ve never liked wrestling: watching or participating. That is, unless ‘wrestling’ is just a polite way to say ‘fucking.’ Then I like it. But as the tall, dark man pins me down painfully, I know that I hate this definition of wrestling. The man with the vicious eyes is winning, of course. I’m unable to move my arms or my legs… it’s not a fair fight. I don’t know what this mysterious stranger has done to immobilize me, but I know that it would not be allowed in any known sport. Except perhaps rugby, but rugby defies a lot of normal sports rules in its acceptance of cruelty.
Struggling for the breath needed to curse the figure, muscles burning, I know that unless this struggle becomes much more fair, there’s absolutely no way I’ll win this fight for my life.
Bloody hell, get the fuck off me! He roars something that I cannot understand as I squirm and contort, trying to buck him off.
--------------------------------
“Dommie,” Billy pleaded, running a hand over the patient’s forehead in an attempted soothing motion. “Please, calm down, or they’ll never take you out of those bloody restraints! Please!”
“Billy,” Elijah choked out past his frightened tears, “Billy, what the fuck’s wrong with him?”
“I don’t know,” Billy admitted before tearing his gaze from his hospitalized friend, “I’ve never seen him like this before.” Turning fully, he ran a shaking hand over the day-old stubble on his chin. “I’ve never seen anyone like this before.”
“Fuck, Bills…” Elijah closed his eyes to block their thrashing friend from his view. “He’d been going downhill for so long… why didn’t we try harder to figure out what was wrong?”
“Don’t,” Billy snapped, his teeth clenched and his eyes wide, “fucking don’t talk about him in the past tense, Elijah.” He let out a deep breath, working on relaxing his body. “He’s not dead.”
‘Not yet…’ The thought hung unsaid in the air between them, as both turned to stare nervously down at their pale, shaking friend.
“I wonder what’s going on in his mind right now,” Elijah whispered before sighing in guilt. “I… I need…” He faltered before starting again. “It’s obvious he’s been having troubles… problems. And he’s kept them to himself.”
Working hard to keep his tears in check, Billy folded his arms protectively around his body. “I only hope he gets a chance to tell them to us,” he wavered, wincing as Dominic let out a whimper, accompanied by a violent twitch.
--------------------------------
His voice thunders on above me – so many curses and incoherencies that seem to blend and bleed together, but I can make out a single word: problems. Hah, I scoff, attempting to push the dark man off me, am I not dying off easily enough for you, is that your bloody problem? Fucking devil.
Fuck. That invisible drummer is back from his coffee break, with twice the adrenaline and ten times the force than before. My head is throbbing a deep, constant beat. Yes, it’s a constant beat. Proves I’m not dying, not yet spent. Take that, you fucking son of a bitch!
--------------------------------
If it weren’t for the fact that the heart monitor’s loud beeps were proof that Dominic was still alive, Billy would curse the annoying sounds for… for everything. For distracting him from his thoughts and reminding him of Dominic’s condition (making sure I never forget… as if I could forget. As if I could forget that my best mate was in this bloody hospital!), most of all.
Always the musician, Billy unconsciously paced to the constant beat of the heart monitor, therefore he noticed before Elijah when the tempo sped up. “Dom?” Billy turned his head to stare at his friend, letting out a deep sign as the beeps returned to normal.
“Billy,” Elijah started, his eyes wide. “Did he just flip us off?”
Eyebrows furrowed, Billy’s eyes moved over to the bed. “No,” he spoke, although he knew he sounded unsure. “Maybe someone in his dreams… but not us. He doesn’t know we’re here.”
“Don’t they usually say that if you talk to someone when they’re unconscious, they can hear you?”
“Maybe, but look at him, Elijah!” Billy snapped, at the end of his rope. “He’s twitching and he’s obviously caught up in a dream, in his unconscious world.” He took in a deep breath and repeated, “I’m sure he doesn’t know we’re here.”
--------------------------------
He’s always here. Always… Never leaving the back of my mind, plaguing my thoughts. He’s forcing me into an internal war, always fighting for control over my body and my thoughts. I haven’t been at peace with my mind for such a long time, it feels like, now. Because he’s fucking always there.
The darkness that surrounds me lifts. I can see, and suddenly my immobility makes sense. I’m in a car that is speeding down the highway, the seat belt strapping me to the seat. I struggle against its snug hold, but it only tightens against me. Turning my head to the right, I let out a loud curse – the tall, dark man is the driver.
I am dimly aware that, instead of watching the dark, rain-slickened road ahead of us, he is staring sideways at me. Staring, his eyes shining an ominous slate blue.
His hands raise mockingly from the steering wheel, though his gaze never leaves my face. I open my mouth; try to force out the scream building in my chest, to protest, but my vocal chords refuse to obey me. He laughs before his right hand points out the front windshield.
Blinding curiously, I realize that a strange silence has settled over everything. A muffled silence, like this dark man has taken the music box containing all the sounds of the world and muffled it with a thick wool blanket. The silence is portentous. Biting my lip against the panic, I turn obediently and stare forward into the darkness.
Squinting to see past the death that surrounds the vehicle, my eyes watering at the strain, I suddenly know why my enemy is smirking.
Emerging from the dark in a rumble of gears, is an eighteen-wheeler, gleaming malevolently blue, chrome bumper like teeth, towering above the car.
I had stupidly played ‘chicken’ before, back when I was truly loving my life, not just going through the motions. I had been the ‘chicken’ champion, nonchalantly leaving my wrist dangling from the steering wheel, never flinching as the other car swerved out of the way at the last second, calling me a ‘crazy fucker’ through the open window. I had loved the adrenaline rush, the thrill of flouting danger.
But now, unable to tear my eyes from the Goliath of the roads, I feel no surge of elation. I feel nothing as I stare, the seat buckle holding me in my trapped position. My deadened gaze takes in the stop sign… the traffic sign that the semi driver is ignoring. The stop sign that, if heeded, could save my life.
--------------------------------
“God, Dominic,” Billy murmured, tiredly.
Elijah whimpered softly. “Billy, what’s going on?” Dominic was trembling, his body tense and straining against the restraints encircling his wrists and ankles. At the blank look on Billy’s face, Elijah continued in a whisper. “Listen.”
Billy closed his eyes, listening. It was silent, with the exception of the heart monitor pounding and the shuffling of the nurses’ white sneakers in the hallway outside the room. His musty eyes snapped open when he realized what Elijah was referring to. The thankfully repetitive beeps of the heart monitor were, slowly but surely, gaining speed. Billy’s own heart beat, which was sounding in echoes in his skull, moved to the new, faster beats as well.
Rushing to the bedside and clasping Dominic’s hand, Billy let out a soft gasp and ran his hand over Dom’s forehead. “Dom?”
“Fuck,” Dominic mouthed frantically, turning his head, desperate for an escape.
“Dommie?!?” Billy exclaimed, his tone panicked.
--------------------------------
Fuck. I see him. Of course, he’s right here next to me in the car, but… as the cerulean blue bursts from the dark abyss, and the semi collides with our car, I see the driver… it’s the same man who’s – I turn my head and jump – the tall, dark man has disappeared from the driver’s seat. I’m alone in the car, stuck in this trance of staring into Billijah’s eyes, the driver of the semi. My death.
--------------------------------
“Dom!” Elijah let out a yell as Billy’s palm slammed down on the ‘call’ button.
Billy couldn’t tear his eyes from his best friend, his friend whose heart had just stopped beating. Billy’s fingers pressed urgently on the button, fighting the urge to clap his hands over his ears to block out the tone of the blaring flat line. “Christ, fix him!” he snapped as a group of nurses rushed into the room, forcing them away from the bed.
“Please don’t leave me, my Dommie,” Billy whispered, pulling a sputtering Elijah into his embrace, neither able to see Dominic past the barrier of nurses.
--------------------------------
My spirit leaps at the thought that I’m leaving this madness, and I’ve never been more relieved. My problems are finally over. This nightmare, this never ending nightmare, can finally end. And I definitely won’t be waking up to my life – the worst nightmare of all – again.
The flat line that fills my senses sounds like a lullaby, lulling me to a deep, nightmare-free sleep.
--------------------------------
The nurses retreated, and Billy knew. “No, god damn it!” he cried as the staff left the room solemnly, sending sympathetic glances at the two of them. “Dominic,” Billy’s voice wavered as he stumbled towards the hospital bed. “Don’t you dare leave like this, Dom!”
Elijah was silent, staring at the heart monitor with wide eyes.
“Dommie,” Billy’s voice softened. “Please… I… I love you, don’t go!” He bowed his head, taking one of Dominic’s hands. Fuck. He suddenly wished to be naïve, or ignorant, as Elijah sometimes was… But somehow he knew that this was Dominic’s choice This was Dominic’s end.
Pressing his lips to Dom’s cooling hand, Billy drew back hesitantly. “Goodbye, Dommie.”
--------------------------------
I smile bitterly. It’s my happy ending. I wish Elijah and Billy good lives, together or apart… but without their docile grave digger.
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