monaboyd | Mistake Number Three

Title: Mistake Number Three - 4/19
Author:

dylan_dufresne
Pairing: BB/DM
Rating: Hard R, for subject matter.
Summary: While Billy is in London, Dom makes a decision that will have a dangerous, life altering and lasting effect.
Feedback: Would be greatly appreciated as it’s my drug of choice.
Disclaimer: Not at all true in reality.
A/N: Beta'd by

frojane. Thanks sweetie.
A/N 2: Once again, thanks to all who have commented. I have no words to express how much it means to me.
WARNING: Please be advised, this chapter gets rough. *sniff* I really, really hate my Muse. A lot. Seriously.
Previous Parts: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Trudging up the last flight of stairs to his flat, Dom exhales a heavy sigh. It’s only been two days, but he misses Billy much more than he cares to admit, even to himself. Knowing that it’s very likely that he won’t see Billy for at least a couple more days doesn’t help matters any. The way Billy nearly bolted from his flat the other night is still bothering him.

So caught up in his thoughts, Dom doesn’t notice anything is amiss until he’s fishing for his keys at his front door. When he starts to slide the key into the sticky lock, the door swings open to reveal the chaos within. Eyes wide with shock, Dom steps inside, closes the door and walks to the center of the room, surveying the damage.

Couch cushions have been torn apart, the small lamp smashed, and the end tables have been turned upside down. The kitchen is no better, as the doors of the fridge and freezer are hanging open, and all remaining scraps of food are gone. Finally, the meager contents of the cupboards and drawers have been emptied onto the floor.

Panic sets in, and Dom rushes into the bedroom, ignoring how this room has been ransacked as well. The bed has been torn apart and his clothes tossed around the room, pockets evidently searched. Flipping on the overhead light, Dom focuses on the small chest of drawers by the window, looking for the envelope he had taped to the bottom of the frame. Stomach twisting as he realizes that the chest is on its side, Dom drops to his knees in front of it, hands shaking as he discovers the horrible truth. The money he’d hidden there is gone.

Scrambling over to the closet on his hands and knees, Dom’s fingers find the loose floorboard at the back and he frantically pulls it aside, hoping and praying that it will still be there. When his hand closes around the envelope he nearly sobs with relief. Emptying the contents onto the floor, Dom quickly counts the bills inside, his heart sinking.

Half. Whoever broke in and ripped apart his flat has found half of his stash of hard earned money. Rent is due in three days and now he has nowhere near enough to cover it. Refusing to shed a single tear and waste time, Dom spends nearly two hours putting his flat back together as best he can. Then he heads back out to the street, even though he’s hungry and exhausted. He needs to earn money. Now.

Because of the cooler weather, business is slow, only adding to Dom’s anxiety. It’s after midnight and the street is nearly deserted when Dom is approached by a man he’s never seen before. While he can’t quite put his finger on it, something feels off. There is a quiet discussion under the streetlight, and they quickly come to an agreement on price. Walking up the stairs to his flat with the man at his side, Dom can’t shake the nagging feeling that he’s making a mistake. Stomach twisting into tight knots, he searches his mind for a way to get out of the situation, but comes up empty. He needs the money. By the time they are in the bedroom, Dom’s gut is screaming and an icy lump of fear has settled in his belly.

It’s only when the long, thin strap of leather cracks across his naked back that Dom realizes just how much trouble he’s in. The horrible mistake he’s made. The blinding, excruciating pain, ripping through his too thin body drives Dom to his knees as a ragged scream tears from his throat to fill the air. Desperately, Dom tries to crawl, drag himself away, tries to escape, but that only angers his attacker and makes the beating worse.

It’s much, much later when the world finally, mercifully, goes black, and he loses consciousness.

* * * * *

It’s been raining, rather heavily, for hours and Dom is huddled in a doorway, shivering, when Billy approaches, shielded from the inclement weather by an umbrella. Suppressing the intense pain rushing through his skin and bones frame, Dom smiles weakly when he spots the familiar face. Despite the agony he’s in, Dom’s very glad to see Billy.

“Hey Billy. How was your trip?” he says, pushing away from the wall as he swallows a whimper.

“Productive. I’ll have a big order arriving in a couple of weeks,” Billy replies with a smile. “How are you?”

“Oh, you know me. Not much changes,” Dom says evasively. “Do you want to come up?”

Slowly, Billy nods. “Yeah, I would.”

Less than ten minutes later, Dom is stretched out on his back, thighs parted wide as Billy slides between them and carefully pushes into Dom. Billy hasn’t rocked his hips forward half a dozen times when he decides that something isn’t quite right. For some reason, Dom left the lights off in the bedroom tonight, and he is unusually stiff and unyielding, very unlike their numerous past encounters.

Craving closer contact with Dom, Billy presses down with his body a little, one hand bracing his weight on the mattress, the other holding Dom’s hip in place. That all changes when he catches Dom suppressing a flinch in the low light, biting down on his lower lip and looking away. Hearing a strained whimper escape Dom’s mouth, Billy pauses.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, concerned. “Did I hurt you?”

“No, it’s fine,” Dom replies mildly, a touch breathless. “Keep going.”

Not entirely convinced, Billy starts to rock forward again, but freezes when he feels something warm and sticky coating his small palm where he is holding Dom. Pulling back even further this time, he reaches over and flips on the lamp sitting on the nightstand. When the light falls over his hand, Billy gasps in shock as his stomach churns. The smell of copper fills his nostrils as he stares at the bright red blood staining his fingers.

“What the fuck?” he cries out in shock. “Dom?”

Glistening eyes wide with panic, Dom reaches for Billy, shaking his head.

“It’s nothing,” he insists, tightening his legs around Billy’s waist. “I’m fine. Keep going.”

“No.”

Before Dom can say another word, Billy pulls out of Dom’s body and grabs hold of Dom’s other hip to roll him over onto his stomach. Unable to hold back the pain any longer, Dom cries out brokenly, voice hoarse and tight.

“Jaysus fucking Christ,” Billy breathes, staring in horror at the sight before him. “What the fuck happened to you, Dom?”

Dozens of long, angry whip marks crisscross over the slim expanse of Dom’s lean back, from the nape of his neck down to the curve of his arse in a sickening display of brutal violence. All of the vicious wounds are crusted with dried blood and several have recently reopened, including one at his hip, where Billy had touched him. The bleeding is slow, but still alarming, as it seeps out of the broken and inflamed skin, rolling over Dom’s prominent ribs and down to stain the bed sheet beneath him.

“Dom, what happened?” Billy demands, wanting to soothe Dom, but scared to touch him and inadvertently cause even more pain.

“It’s okay. Just give me a minute, yeah? ” Dom begs, voice trembling as he tries to turn over. “I’m-”

“Shut it.” Sliding over to the edge of the bed, Billy reaches for his trousers and digs into the front pocket for his mobile. “I’m ringing for an ambulance.”

“No!”

Hand shaking violently, Dom’s long fingers wrap around Billy’s wrist as tightly as he can manage. It’s only then that Billy notices that Dom’s skin is cool and clammy. He’d blamed it on the rain, but now he’s not so sure. Dom also seems paler than usual.

“Dom-”

“No. They’ll call the police and then put me-”

“But Dom, you need a hospital,” Billy insists.

“Billy, please,” Dom begs hoarsely, eyes bright with pain and fear. “Promise me. Please.”

Seeing the naked desperation in Dom’s wild eyes, Billy lowers his head in defeat. “Alright.”

Nodding, Dom releases Billy’s wrist and drops limply back onto the mattress, his breathing shallow and rapid.

“Don’t move,” Billy instructs firmly, moving to the edge of the bed.

“It’s okay, Billy. Just give me a minute and then we can-”

“What?”

“You can-”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” Billy orders, stunned and sickened that Dom would even suggest that they continue their previous activity, ignoring Dom’s massacred back.

“Billy-”

“Don’t move,” Billy repeats. “That’s an order.”

Sliding off the mattress, Billy quickly removes the condom and slips on his boxers before disappearing into the loo. Opening the medicine chest, he scans the nearly bare shelves and finds an empty bottle of Paracetamol. Sighing heavily, Billy shakes his head.

“That’s what I thought.”

As he closes the mirrored cabinet, Billy spots a well worn towel hanging over the rod of the small tiled shower behind him. It’s covered in rusty stains. Blood. Dom had evidently tried to clean himself up. Turning around, Billy touches the towel briefly, and then wipes his bloody hand on the ruined cotton. Quickly returning to the bedroom with the towel, Billy walks back over to the bed and covers Dom’s bleeding wounds with it, murmuring an apology when Dom whimpers. Perching on the edge of the mattress carefully, as not to disturb Dom, Billy pulls on his trousers, socks and shoes.

“What are you doing?” Dom whispers, eyes glazed and unfocused.

“I need to run home for some supplies,” Billy replies, slipping on his shirt and buttoning it, but not bothering to tuck it in. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“You won’t call-”

“No. I promise,” Billy vows quietly, laying a hand on Dom’s fortunately unmarked arm and meeting his gaze. “Rest, okay? Whatever you do, please don’t move.”

Taking Dom’s keys from his dingy blue jeans on the floor, Billy tucks them into his pocket before covering Dom’s body almost to the waist with the thin, brown coverlet.

“I won’t be long,” he promises.

“Okay,” Dom replies softly, tears glistening in his eyes.

With one last look at Dom, Billy turns and leaves, locking the front door behind him.

* * * * *

Breathless and damp from running the entire way back to the bookstore in the rain, Billy tears open his medicine cabinet, searching for a prescription bottle. When he discovers that there are only two pills left, he curses softly. Thinking for a long moment, he then digs into the front pocket of his trousers and pulls out his mobile. Dialing a number he hasn’t called in years, Billy waits as the line rings and rings, hoping that someone will answer. He sighs with relief when a familiar voice fills his ear.

“Hey, it’s Billy.”

Glancing down, Billy stomach twists when he realizes that Dom’s blood still stains his hand. Refocusing on the person on the other end of the phone, Billy smiles tentatively.

“I know,” he says softly. “It’s been a long time.”

Running his hand briefly under the tap, Billy watches the pinkish water disappear down the drain.

“I’m sorry for calling like this, but I need a big favor and I don’t have time to explain.”

Twenty minutes later, Billy is at the chemist, paying for a new prescription, as well as a small mountain of antiseptic, cotton swabs, sterile gauze pads, antibiotic cream and medical tape. Shoving the receipt into his pocket without looking at it, Billy scoops up the carrier bag of supplies in one hand and a duffle bag he packed in the other. Having been given very specific instructions, he knows how important it is that he get back to Dom as soon as possible. His life may depend on it.

* * * * *

Dom’s eyes flutter open when Billy’s small hand brushes the damp hair off his forehead.

“Hey.”

“You’re back,” Dom whispers weakly.

“Of course I am.”

Shrugging off his jacket before sitting on the edge of the bed, Billy reaches into the duffle bag and pulls out a bottle of water. Cracking the seal, he carefully works an arm around Dom’s body, hand under his chest to lift him up a few inches.

“Drink this,” he requests. “We need to keep you hydrated.”

Obediently, Dom swallows a few times, his breath still uneven. Not lowering Dom back down to the mattress just yet, Billy taps out three pills from the prescription bottle onto the bed sheet.

“I want you to take these,” he tells Dom.

“What are they?”

“They’ll help with the pain, and let you get some sleep,” Billy replies. “Please Dom.”

Wordlessly, Dom parts his lips, eyes drifting closed. After the pills have been downed, Billy gently lowers Dom back down to the mattress. Digging into the duffle bag, he then covers Dom’s lower half with another blanket, hoping to conserve heat and warm his brutalized body.

“I need to clean you up, Dom. It’s going to hurt.”

Dom shudders, but doesn’t open his eyes. “I know.”

“I’ll be as gentle as I can, I promise,” Billy says, gazing sadly at Dom’s back as he pulls on a pair of sterile gloves.

“I know you will,” Dom replies quietly. “You never hurt me.”

Starting with the shallower cuts to Dom’s back, Billy tenderly wipes an antiseptic dampened cotton ball over the wounds, cleaning away the crusted blood. He works in silence for several minutes, the quiet interrupted only by Dom’s muffled, yet frequent whimpers of distress when the pain gets to be too much for him to bear in silence. It seems to help a wee bit when Billy blows softly over the inflamed skin, so he does so as often as he possibly can. Anything to help ease Dom’s suffering.

Pausing for a few moments, Billy gets Dom to drink nearly half the bottle of water this time before resuming his task of attending to Dom’s injuries. Billy has no idea how much time has passed when the drugs begin to take effect and Dom’s body slowly starts to relax into the mattress. It’s only then that Billy decides to speak again.

“So what happened?” he asks softly.

“Somebody broke into my flat,” Dom replies limply, the pills Billy made him swallow loosening his tongue. “They searched everything and found almost half my rent money.”

Billy opens his mouth to ask if Dom called the police, but stops when he realizes that, of course, he wouldn’t have. Dom wouldn’t be able to explain why he had all that cash, and no job.

“It’s the end of the month. Rent is due on the first. I have to pay the full amount on time, or I’m out. I was late once before,” Dom quietly continues. “If I’m late again, I’ll get thrown out that day.”

“So you were out there, working,” Billy says, putting the details together. “Trying to get the money back.”

“Yeah.”

“Was it a regular?” Billy asks as he tenderly cleans a wound just below Dom’s left shoulder blade. “Someone you know?”

“No,” Dom replies sleepily. “I’d never seen him before. He wasn’t from the neighborhood.”

Spreading some antibiotic cream over the gash across Dom’s ribs, Billy then covers it with sterile gauze pads and carefully tapes it into place, hating how paper thin Dom’s abused skin appears to be. He’s adjusting the blankets at Dom’s waist a little lower when a thought hits him so hard in the chest that it steals his breath.

“Dom?”

“Yeah?”

Laying a hand lightly on the blanket covering Dom’s arse, Billy exhales a slow, nervous breath. “Did he force himself-”

“No,” Dom says with a resigned sigh, the drugs in his system having taken away his ability to deflect any questions.

It makes Billy’s stomach twist that he’s relieved, almost happy, with the knowledge that Dom wasn’t violated in that way, considering how horrific his other injuries are. While this is not the time to celebrate, Billy will take any shred of good news, as he truly feared the worst. Just the idea that he could’ve caused Dom further pain, in that intimate way, sickens him and makes his eyes glisten.

“He didn’t want sex,” Dom explains, trying valiantly to keep his eyes focused and failing miserably. “He wanted pain. The more I screamed, the harder he hit; when I stopped screaming, he got angry and hit even harder. He was still beating me when I passed out.”

“Jaysus Christ, Dom,” Billy gasps.

“I think he finally stopped because he thought I was dead.”

Eyes filling, Billy struggles to control his breathing and now shaking hands.

“I’m so sorry, Dom.”

“Don’t be,” Dom replies faintly, on the edge of sleep. “You weren’t the one who did it. It’s my f-”

And then Dom lapses into unconsciousness for the second time in less than twenty-four hours. Relieved that Dom is escaping from the pain, at least for a while, Billy gently continues dressing Dom’s wounds, silently cursing the sick bastard who inflicted this torture, for some sort of perverse pleasure. Nearly all his medical supplies are gone by the time he finishes, and Billy finds some of the deeper wounds quite worrisome. He can’t help but think that they would heal better if they’d been sutured, in a hospital, but now it’s too late.

Peeling off his latex gloves and dropping them into the bag with other medical waste, Billy empties the duffle bag of his other supplies onto the chair beside the bed. His first task is to strip the beige, blood stained sheets from the mattress, maneuvering Dom as gently as possible as he replaces them with the fresh linen he’s brought. Dom’s slim frame is shockingly light in Billy’s arms, and he can’t help worrying about what else Dom hasn’t told him.

The ruined cotton is tossed into the corner along with the stained towel, and then Dom is ever so carefully covered with blankets. To Billy’s relief, Dom’s previously shallow breathing has improved and his skin is finally starting to warm a little. Pressing his fingers to the side of Dom’s slender neck, Billy feels for a pulse and methodically counts the beats while looking at his watch. It’s a little fast, but it’s stronger than he expected.

After ensuring that Dom is tucked in for the evening, Billy carries the remaining supplies to the kitchen. A quick check of the cupboards and fridge confirms his suspicions; there’s almost nothing left. Dom obviously hasn’t been eating much of anything. Placing what items he’d brought from home on the counter, Billy turns off the lights, double checks the front door to make sure that it’s locked, and then returns to the bedroom.

Heeling off his shoes as the end of the bed, Billy slides quietly and carefully onto the sagging mattress beside Dom, brushing the mussed dark blonde hair off his forehead. Billy gazes at the sleeping man in the light from the street lamp outside, knowing that Dom won’t wake up and catch Billy observing him in his vulnerable state. Exhaling heavily, Billy slides down a little, keeping his fingers wrapped around Dom’s wrist to monitor his pulse. The events of the evening have left Billy exhausted, and emotionally drained.

Thankfully oblivious, Dom sleeps on, resting peacefully, looking as young and innocent as a child. Settling his head on the pillow, as close to Dom as he dares, Billy watches Dom’s long, dark eyelashes flutter as he dreams, and Billy hopes that they are pleasant. The light coming through the window bathes Dom’s face, illuminating the lines of dried tears on his cheeks. Biting down on his lower lip, Billy’s eyes glisten brightly as he briefly cups Dom’s cheek.

It’s much later when Billy finally allows himself to fall asleep as well.

* * * * *

Chapter 5

Current Mood: worried

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Date: 2005-10-21 07:28 pm (UTC)

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