monaboyd | FIC: You Oughta Know: 2/??- Rated PG-13 this part

Title: You Oughta Know- 2/??
Author: flybynite29
Rating: Series PG-13 - NC17, this part PG-13 for language
Pairings: Billy Boyd/Dominic Monaghan, Billy/ofc, Orlando, Elijah, possible future pairings
Summary This Part: In which Billy tests out pain of all types, Dom loses his place behind The Wall, Orlando maintains his silent, unrequited love vigil, and Elijah freaks right the bloody hell out.
Disclaimer: I do not own Billy Boyd, Dominic Monaghan, or any of the other real-life persons in this work; I'm just playing with them for a bit. No money is being made off of any of this, and I adore all of these people far too much to intend any disrespect.
Warnings: AUish; WIP; Angst; and, to quote Rainman, Serious Injury, some medical squick this time around
Feedback: I live for it. : )

a/n: This one's a tiny bit lighter on the angst, though not by much. *sighs* Title and lyrics belong to Alanis Morrisette.

Prologue

Part 1

You seem very well,
things look peaceful
I'm not quite as well,
I thought you should know
Did you forget about me
Mr. Duplicity
I hate to bug you in the middle of dinner
It was a slap in the face
how quickly I was replaced
And are you thinking of me when you fuck her?

By the time Dom reached the bank of hospital elevators he had regained a bit of perspective. Yes, there was undoubtedly something wrong between himself and Billy...but, whatever it was, they would work through it just as they had worked through everything else over the years. No matter the problem, it was fixable. Dom had enough faith in their love to believe it could get them through anything.

Besides, now was not the time to worry about such things, it was the time to care for Billy, get him healed up. That's all that mattered at the moment- everything else could wait. A shudder went through Dom as he watched it all again in his mind; the screeching of brakes, the awful thump, Billy so limp and pale in his arms. If the van had been going just a bit faster, if Billy’s head had hit the pavement in just the wrong way...

Dom's vision fractured with tears. He blinked them back rapidly. He was exhausted, and knew at least a minor breakdown was inevitable very soon, but he was damned if he was going to give in to weeping hysterics right here in the second floor hallway.

A couple of middle-aged ladies strode up to the elevators alongside Dom, their arms positively laden with flowers, balloons, sweets, and a vast assortment of stuffed animals. He overheard them chattering happily about the arrival of their new grandson. Dom wasn't sure which would happen first- if they would burst from excitement or topple over with their gifts.

A potted plant broke free from one of the women and Dom reached out and caught it before it could hit the floor. The lady smiled at him gratefully and before he knew what was happening his inherent politeness took over and he was offering to help with more of the contraband. He grabbed several bouquets, a fistful of balloons, a wee sleeper set festooned with blue kangaroos and the largest of the stuffed beasties, a great yellow teddy bear that was fully half his height. What in bloody hell would a newborn do with that?, he wondered. If Dom found something that size looming over him in his cot he'd be fucking terrified.

"Eight pounds, three ounces!", one bird exclaimed almost triumphantly as they all boarded the elevator. The other woman followed the pronouncement with her own thrilled cry of "Nearly twenty two inches, and a full head of hair!" Dom nodded, smiled and made all the expected oohing and aahing noises, but he had never understood why this information always seemed so vital to new parents and relatives. If it were his child, his first concerns would be that the wee bloke had the right number of fingers and toes, that he could see and hear properly, that his heart was beating strongly in his little chest. Height and weight and baldness would be far down on Dom's list of importance.

The women kept a running commentary all the way to the fourth floor, during which time Dom learned that the infant had been dubbed Daniel Tyler Schoondist, in honor of his one deceased grandfather and a distant cousin on his mum’s side (apparently the living grandfather hadn’t rated a mention); that he had entered the world at precisely 5:12 that morning, screaming lustily and peeing with abandon; that the lad had partaken in his first breastfeeding with much gusto and a decidedly gentlemanly restraint from nipple-gumming; and that his mother had undergone an epidural so the birth itself hadn't been too horribly awful, though she was complaining loudly and bitterly to anyone who would listen about the pain from her episiotomy. Much of this information Dom could have done without, but the ladies' joy was infectious, and he found himself smiling widely by the time they exited the cab.

He dutifully followed the new grannies to Room 417 and set his armload of presents down on the counter outside the door. In their enthusiasm, the women invited him to come right on in with them, but he politely declined. While he wouldn’t mind getting a glimpse of wee Daniel, he had no great desire to be thrust into the middle of a discussion about vaginal soreness. That might just tip his already-taxed brain right over the edge.

He offered one last round of congratulations and bid the ladies - one of whom actually pinched his scruffy cheek in gratitude- goodbye and turned to go. He surprised himself by walking not back towards the elevators, but along the hall in the other direction until he came upon the glassed-in nursery.

There were seven newborns in residence, and Dom stood outside, studying each one, fascinated by their tiny, scrunched-up faces, their little cloth-enclosed hands waving in the air, the weeness of the knit caps covering their heads. How could anything so tiny, so fragile, survive at all, let alone grow into a walking, talking adult human being? Their very existence was miraculous.

As he gazed on, a slow, absolutely beautiful smile lit his face and the first bit of peace Dom had felt in nearly a day stole over him.

********************************************************

Billy closed his eyes as he was ferried into the bowels of the CAT scan machine. A nurse had injected dye into his veins a few minutes before, and it had been the oddest and most disconcerting sensation Billy had ever experienced, a prickly rush of heat spreading all through his body, as if he was being feasted on by fire ants from the inside. He had found it suddenly hard to breathe, though the nurse had quickly assured him it was just nerves, and both that and the overbearing warmth would go away in a few moments. And so they had...though Billy’s fear and unease had remained.

He did not want to be alone down here, trapped inside this steel monster, wished he could have the comfort of a loved one’s touch, feel caring, sure fingers wrapped around his own, driving back the loneliness.

He knew Dom was waiting upstairs for him and would gladly give him every bit of attention, comfort and cuddling that he desired, and then some...but things were not that simple anymore.

Billy was tired of the lies, tired of the sneaking, tired of walking the thin tightrope between two lives. He couldn't keep it from Dom much longer; it wasn't fair to either of them. But he could not quite find the courage to make that final break.

For one, desperate moment, he wished the van had done the job more thoroughly and put him all the way out of his misery.

Billy's broken wrist was throbbing, and he was feeling increasingly weak and woozy, as well as claustrophobic from the tight walls of the machine... but these minor aches and pains were nothing compared to the turmoil of his heart.

Dom believed that Billy's upcoming trip to Glasgow (which would now obviously have to be postponed) was for the purpose of partnering up with a mate to begin writing on a play idea that had been bouncing around in their minds for some time. There was no play idea, and no mate- not in the sense that Dom thought, at any rate- and the only writing Billy and his partner were likely to be doing would involve edible body paints.

Over the last few months, there had been long, lazy walks of an afternoon, secret late-night phone calls, stolen, blistering moments of carnal pleasure in the back of Billy's Saab or on a squeaky mattress in an out-of-the-way motel. The one thing there hadn't been much of up until now was the very thing Billy should have been drowning in.

Guilt.

She was thirty five, serene, elegant and mature. She did not fidget relentlessly; she did not spend hours in front of the mirror tweaking her hair; she did not fall prey to deep, sudden depressions which caused her to pop on a pair of headphones and sit in a corner to sulk; she did not snore when she slept, nor hog the covers; she did not belch nor fart to emphasize a particularly heartfelt point. When she walked into a toy store she did not turn it into her own personal version of Disney World. And she did not call Billy 'old man' and then completely fail to notice the hurt look that crept into his eyes.

She was, in a manner of speaking, the Anti-Dom.

Billy did not love her- not in the way he loved Dom. But he loved the idea of her; her steadiness, her calm, orderly approach to life, her stick-to-itiveness. And the thing he loved above all else was the iron certainty that she would never leave.

The same could not be said about Dom. Billy feared it a little more each day, grew more terrified with each new wrinkle he spotted upon his face, every tiny twinge that told him he was not young anymore. The age gap between them had never mattered before, but it seemed a chasm now. Dom grabbed life and ran with it, raced it for all he was worth. And with each passing day, Billy lagged a few more steps behind. He'd always wondered what would happen on the day he was unable to keep up at all.

The answer had come five months ago, on the day Billy had discovered Dom's secret. A blue velvet box, buried beneath a thick layer of dust, hidden up on a high shelf of the storage closet. A receipt, dated a full year before. A gorgeous, sparkling band of silver that would never see the light of day. Dom had bought it on one of his whims, then had promptly relegated it to the domain of discarded notions.

Billy could not take another loss. His early losses had left scars he still carried to this day. The loss of Dom would not leave scars; it would destroy him. If Billy's soul was to be cut from him, he would rather do the surgery himself.

The knife always hurt a little less when wielded by one's own hand.

*******************************************

Dom got back to Billy's room only to find it occupied not by Billy, but by a Ringbearer and an elf. The two were looking around the empty room, faces shocked and pale.

"Guys..." Before Dom could get another word out, he was smothered in Elijah.

"Fuck, Sblomie...where is he?", Lij asked in a strangled voice, clinging to Dom like a koala bear.

"Just down having some tests.", Dom reassured as Orli came up behind him and completed the three-way hug, folding himself against Dom's back and wrapping his arms protectively around both of the smaller men.

"Then he's okay?", Orli asked softly against Dom's neck. "Or going to be?"

Dom nodded, unable to speak through the sudden lump in his throat. Having his mates here, surrounding him in their blanket of love and concern.... No barrier could stand up to this. The wall was coming down, with or without Dom's blessing.

"Jesus...we were so fuckin' scared. We didn't hear anything back from you after that first call..."

Dom was both touched and alarmed to realize that Elijah was full-out crying. He reached down and petted Lij's tousled hair, then kissed his damp cheek. "Hush, Doodle. 's alright.", he whispered. "He's banged up, broke his wrist...but it could have been so much worse." It was only then that Dom noticed he was crying a bit himself.

"What's this, then?" A voice asked from the doorway. "Hobbit-piling without me now? Fine fecking day this is." While the three had been caught up in their group hug, Billy had been wheeled back into the room.

Dom looked over at him and, as always, his heart beat a little faster in his chest. Tired and wan, battered and bruised, Billy was still the most beautiful thing Dom had ever seen. Having come so close to losing him had opened Dom's eyes; he would never take another single moment with Billy for granted. The thin stream of tears became a river.

"Bills!", Lij cried ecstatically and flew over to Billy's side, all but pouncing onto the bed with him.

Orlando went over much more sedately and kissed Billy's forehead. "So glad you're still with us, mate. You scared the piss out of us, y' know.", He smiled and patted Billy's cheek, then walked back to Dom, leaving Elijah to fawn over the patient.

"How about you, Dommie? You okay?", he asked softly, out of earshot of the others. "Really okay?"

"Fuck, no, Orl.", Dom whispered back, voice cracking, the strain of the last, endless hours finally overtaking him. "I thought he was...the car just bloody mowed him down...his head...Christ..." He broke off, trembling helplessly, choking back a sob, not wanting to break down in front of Billy and risk upsetting him, but unable to hold back the flood any longer.

Orlando immediately read the situation and took Dom's arm. "Bill, I'm dragging this one off to get some coffee in him before he hits the floor.", he called out cheerily, deftly blocking Billy's view of Dom with his body. "I'll bring him back undamaged, promise."

He tugged Dom out into the corridor and around into the tucked-away drink galley, then gathered him close, forehead to forehead, tone gentle. "Let it go now, love. I've got you."

Dom completely lost it then, the sobs tearing from his chest, his legs turning to jelly beneath him. Orlando held him up, grasping tightly to him, anchoring him. The squall was violent while it lasted but tapered off almost as quickly as it had come, and Orlando loosened his grip a bit, rubbing Dom's back in soothing circles.

"Hey...", Orlando whispered against Dom's ear. "It was awful, I know it was, Dommie, but the worst is over now. He'll be good as new in no time. Yeah?"

Dom nodded, then wiped his face on his sleeve and smiled up at Orli through his tears. "Yeah."

"You didn't lose him. Nothing else matters, mate."

"Yeah.", Dom said again, a bit more convincingly.

"Lijah's got to fly out tonight- he's starting that new indie film of his- but I thought I might hang around for a few days, catch a wave or two.", Orlando grinned, his fingers curling comfortably around the nape of Dom's neck. "That is, if you'll have me. I've not got anything on the docket for a couple of weeks."

"Fantastic.", Dom said, grinning himself now. "It'll be brilliant to have you here, man. Missed you." He hugged Orlando once again- not the desperate, panicked grasp of before, but a gentle, warm, welcoming embrace.

"Missed you, too, Dommie. So much.", Orlando breathed, his own voice not quite steady now. He closed his eyes and returned the hug, snuggling into Dom's sweet, familiar warmth, then added, belatedly, "Both of you."

***********************************

"You've finally gone primetime, Boyd.", Elijah teased, brushing his fingers gently through Billy's hair. He had restrained himself for all of two minutes before crawling up and sprawling out on the bed next to Billy, far enough away that he wouldn't jar him, but close enough to reassure himself that Billy was still breathing. "Talked to Seanie at the airport between flights last night- said he heard about this on E! or some shit. You made the news, baby!" Elijah tried to keep his voice lighthearted, but it was obvious that the information had all but destroyed him at the time.

Billy blinked over sleepily at Lij, the younger man's familiar, non-stop chatter acting as a much-loved lullaby. The ride down to testing had exhausted Billy, his brilliant morphine buzz was fast wearing off, and he was feeling- to not put too fine a point on it- positively shite.

He had been half-dozing during most of Elijah's monologue, but something about that last statement nudged persistently at his mind, kept him from falling completely over the edge into sleep. It took a minute for Billy's bumped-around brain to make the connection, but when it did, his eyes flew open.

The news! Dom would have thought to ring their friends and relatives with the latest updates, but could hardly have been expected to put a courtesy call in to Billy's mistress- even had he been aware of her existence. Billy couldn't let her hear it about it secondhand- she would be frightened senseless. Where the hell was his mobile? Had Dom taken off with it? Was it still lying in the car park of fucking Toys R Us?

"Och, Christ!" Billy unthinkingly propped himself upright to look around the room for the phone. His broken wrist held him for one shaky second before buckling and sending him crashing back down to the bed on top of it, setting off a chain reaction of white-hot agony shooting throughout his damaged body. He clamped his lips down on a scream, but couldn't keep a ragged whimper from escaping. A few involuntary tears rolled down his cheeks before he could stop them.

Elijah's eyes bugged out as he watched the scene in a state of utter disbelief. "Oh, fuck, Bill! What the shit was that?!", he yelped, startled. He floundered helplessly for a moment, then inspiration finally struck. He reached over and yanked the nurse call button off of the bedrail, pressing it frantically again and again until a nurse picked up. He barked that they needed pain meds in Room 232, right the fuck away, please, then tossed the button down and lay his hand carefully on Billy's back. "What can I do, Bills?", he asked softly, tears prickling the backs of his own eyes as he watched his friend writhe in pain.

Billy couldn't answer for long moments, was doing all he could just to stay conscious. The room was spinning around him and each jolt of agony sent a fresh wave of nausea crashing through him. If he could have moved or spoken, he would have stopped Elijah from buzzing the nurse. The pain was unbearable... but at least it was keeping him awake. He knew the moment he got drugs in him he'd nod off, probably for quite awhile, and the call could not wait while he indulged in a leisurely kip. He choked back bile and forced himself to speak. "Need a favor, Lij."

Billy's whisper was so weak that Elijah had to put his ear right next to Billy's mouth in order to hear him. "Fuckin' anything, man, you know that." His voice cracked a bit on the last word; he was starting to get seriously scared- Billy's face had gone deathly white and his lips were tinged a terrible shade of blue.

"Find m' mobile...cupboard maybe.", Billy rasped. "Bring it here."

Elijah pulled back a little and blinked. "Your phone? Now?" He couldn't figure what the hell Billy could possibly want with his cell at a time like this. He have a sudden craving for Chinese takeout? A pressing urge to dial the psychic hotline? Then it came to him- there was only one thing in the world that could comfort Billy even more than drugs at this moment. "You tryin' to call Dommie, dude? I'm sure I can find him for you, he can't have gotten far..."

"No!" Billy shook his head as firmly as he could manage, though the effort nearly caused him to swoon. "Not Dom. Just get it, Doodle. Please."

"I will, promise. But after the meds come.", Lij said, brushing Billy's hair back from his clammy brow. "You look fucking sick, Bills."

Billy swallowed thickly once again and forced his eyes open. "I am sick, goin' t' boak any second... but this is more important."

Elijah started to protest again, then figured the arguing was probably causing Billy more harm than simply doing what he'd asked, so he gingerly rose from the bed, took an emesis basin from the night table and lay it beside Billy's pillow just in case, then went over to the closet.

A nurse walked into the room a few moments later carrying morphine and a syringe. She took one look at Billy's pinched, ashen face and promptly doubled the dose. He clawed for the basin and retched twice, miserably, but his stomach began to settle almost immediately as the opiate coursed through him, smoothing away the worst of the pain. A few more tears squeezed from his eyes, but these were tears of pure relief. The nurse deftly cleaned him up, helped him sip some water, smiled, and left again.

Elijah winced in sympathy at the sounds coming from the bed, but figured the nurse was better equipped to handle that side of things, and he'd be better off sticking to Verizon Treasure Hunt!: Hospital Edition. Whatever the call was, it was obviously important- Billy had nearly killed himself trying to make it. The phone was nowhere to be found on the top shelf of the closet, but he finally spotted a plastic hospital bag tucked away in a far corner of the floor. He opened it and recoiled in horror- some medical genius had helpfully folded and stored away the clothes Billy had been wearing at the time of his accident, as if he might want to wear them home again or have them framed as some kind of grisly war trophy. They were shredded and mud-splattered, and there was something that looked suspiciously like a tire tread on the back of Billy's loose-fitting jacket, but worst of all were several large areas of thickly matted, still-tacky blood. It was a goddamned wonder that Dom wasn't locked up in the fucking psych ward; it was bad enough for Elijah, seeing it second-hand and after the fact- he couldn't even imagine how horrible it must have been at the scene. Elijah had seen cleaner duds on axe murder victims. He peeked in again and saw the last thing he wanted to see; the cell phone, buried beneath the bloody pile. He steeled himself, reached in, and blindly fished it out, feeling a bit like boaking himself now. He shoved the bag back in the closet, making a mental note to take it with him when he left and toss it in the nearest incinerator. Dom would have enough nightmares as it was without having to look at that prize again.

"What's takin' sae long, y' wee cunt?"

Elijah had to grin- Billy sounded much improved, if a bit crankier. And a whole lot more stoned. "Hold your water, Boyd, I'm comin'...just found the fucking thing." He checked the phone over quickly to make sure there was no noticeable blood spatter.

Billy could feel himself going under, his eyes were suddenly too heavy to hold open. "So bloody tired...", he mumbled almost incoherently, vainly trying to stay alert.

"Then sleep, ya twat.", Elijah smiled, walking back over to the bed. "I'll make the call for you, if it's that damned urgent."

Billy nodded woozily. "'tis. Her name's Kelly.", he murmured, on the edge of dreamland. "Number three...speed-dial...tell 'm okay..."

"Kelly, three, you're not dead...got it. Now goodnight, sweet prince." Elijah bent down and kissed Billy's forehead, then flipped the phone open, scrolling his way through the address book.

"Who is she, anyway, Bills? Agent, interviewer...clandestine fuck buddy?" Elijah snorted at his own wit, but then he got a good look at the tiny, sweet smile that bowed Billy's lips even as he slipped over into sleep and his finger froze on the send button.

"Oh...no. Oh, hell no!"

tbc....