Seeing Straight
PG-13
Billy/Dom

Very big thanks to [livejournal.com profile] o4fuxache for making sure it made sense.



Billy can't see straight anymore.

He can't see crooked, either. Or sideways or upside down or anything.

He can't see his own hand in front of his face. He couldn't see Dom's hand in front of his face, or in front of Dom's face, or in front of any other of Dom's parts, if Dom were here.

But Dom isn't here so not seeing Dom doesn't really mean anything.

Maybe if he calls Dom then Dom will fly to see him and he'll see if he can see Dom.

*

"Billy?"

There's a voice somewhere in the dark.

Billy still can't see.

"Bill? You home?"

Billy croaks out something, some sort of noise. It isn't really a word but it's something and it's really all he can do. It hurts his throat, and he coughs. That's louder, then - he hears footsteps stop and he can imagine that the person's head is tilted and he's thinking, calculating, deciding.

Wait, he knows that voice, doesn't he? He can picture in his head that particular tilt and a crook of a jaw. He wants to smile but he can't quite move his face that much.

"Oh, Christ, Bill."

There's a click and then light and Billy can see.

*

The light fucking hurts.

Billy aches all over more than anywhere else. There's something soft beneath his face, and that's nice - nicer than the floor to be sure - but his feet and his legs and his thighs and his stomach and his chest and his arms and everything above below beside inbetween all hurt like fucking hell. He chokes out a noise, and his throat closes up right away and burns like fire.

"You're awake, aren't you?" Dom says.

Billy peels one eye open. The light hurts even more when not filtered through an eyelid, and he shuts it again. He manages a nod.

"You're such a sad little man." Dom pokes him. It's stab of pain. Must be a bruise. His whole body's a bruise. "What would I have done, if she hadn't called? What would you have done?"

Billy wants to know who. He tries to ask it with the twitch of a finger, but clearly Dom does not comprehend.

"I'll get you some water. Bet you're parched. Have you had anything but whiskey in a month?"

Billy wants to hit Dom. He hasn't been drinking!

Not this week, anyway. Not in... he's not sure how much time has passed.

He hurts, so fucking much.

*

"Billy, Billy, come on, Bill." Dom is pleading. He sounds scared, and desperate.

Splinter, Billy wants to say.

What is Dom so scared for? Doesn't he know that nothing matters?

Billy tries to open his eyes, and groans. He'd really like something to drink. Everything is a bright blur after so long deprived of light, but he can make out a fuzzy silhouette of a glass directly ahead of him. Dom, you fucker, just give over.

"You're awake, aren't you? Look, I'm sorry. I thought you were just drunk, bloody paralytic or something, but you're not are you? Fuck, you're really sick. What happened to you? I'm going to ring for an ambulance, okay?"

Dom is gone, and Billy's beginning to think he'll never get a drink of water.

*

Billy does not wake up again for a long time.

He recognizes the smell of a hospital and begins to panic even before he's entirely conscious. "Where-"

His voice does not sound like his own. It's scratchy and weak and faint. He sounds like someone's grandfather.

"Billy?" Dom says. Billy feels a warm hand covering his own. Why is he so cold? "Are you awake?"

Billy nods. "Where?"

"Hospital. Um. Glasgow?"

Billy nods. He wants to hit Dom over the head and say that yes, he remembers that much. But maybe he doesn't remember much more than that. "Water?"

"Yeah, yeah. Hold on." Dom holds a plastic cup to Billy's mouth while Billy sips. "I should go get someone. Nurse, or something."

It's only after Dom leaves the room that Billy decides he really doesn't want to be alone here.

*

The words swim in Billy's head.

Concussion. Damaged spleen. Dehydrated and malnourished.

Dom stays by his side for the first day, and then he leaves without really saying anything.

Billy lays in the hospital bed. He is confused and miserable. He hurts and he's lonely and wants to know why no one is here to see him.

Then Maggie comes in, and she yells at him. She cries and she yells and then she leaves. It's a very dramatic exit, complete with a slamming door.

He wants to be indignant. He's been in an accident, for Christ's sake! Wrecked his car and banged himself up and shouldn't he be getting a little more sympathy than this?

*

Dom comes back after two days. "I'm sorry. I had to be away for a bit. I needed to get my shit together."

"Where did you go?" Billy asks. He is on a new pain medication, after a bad reaction to the last. It leaves him woozy and sometimes incoherent. He probably won't remember this conversation tomorrow.

"Drove down to Manchester. I saw my parents. Mum said she wants you to come down and stay with them for a few days when you're up to it."

Aureen Monaghan is a kind lady, but Billy will never take her up on the offer. He despises that sort of cloying, pitying attention no matter how well-intended it comes. He'd rather sit alone and rot, ta very much.

Sort of like he has been doing.

Sort of like the kind of behaviour that led him to drink and then drive himself straight into a fucking tree.

*

They're going to release him in a few hours. He's got a little white paper bag full of pill bottles. He'll live, they tell him, but he'll have to be careful for a while.

He's been careful most of his life, hasn't he? Up until now. Now he's proven what he's always feared. He is human, and he is no better than anyone else.

He watches as Dom reads over the labels carefully, making mental notes aloud about which ones Billy will need to take with food and which ones should be taken just before bed. Dom is being careful for him now.

He knows without having to be told that Dom intends to stay with him. He's seen Dom and Maggie whispering together. They think he needs to be babysat.

What about your job? He wants to ask Dom. What about your life?

Instead he falls asleep.

*

Dom cooks for him, and helps him clean up. The medicine makes Billy sleepy a lot, and sometimes ill at his stomach. They spend a lot of time on the sofa watching television.

Dom makes things like soup and roast and potatoes with gravy. Billy's stomach adjusts slowly. For the past week he's been on bland hospital food, and before that he barely remembered to eat. Over the course of the weeks that Dom is with him, Billy gains weight and his skin starts to take on a tone more reminiscent of an actual man than a pasty white ghost.

He starts to laugh again. Dom stops watching so hawk-eyed and relaxes, as well.

He kisses Dom in the kitchen. It's only meant to be a distraction. He wants to steal a carrot.

Dom kisses him back and Billy finds that he's the one now thoroughly, entirely distracted.

*

"Was it me?" Dom asks, a week before he's set to leave. He does have a job, after all, and a life. "Was it because I didn't come?"

Billy feels gut-punched.

They're on the sofa again, watching a nature program Dom picked out when he thought Billy was asleep.

"It was part of it." He's adopted this policy of trying not to lie to Dom about things.

"I've been pretty rotten." Dom says. "This whole year."

"You came anyway, didn't you?" Billy shifts away a little, but Dom won't let him.

"Slippery bastard, stay. I need to get this out." Dom says. "I was scared. It was a shitty thing to do, and I knew it. I came a week too late. You were half dead because I wasn't here."

"I got drunk because you weren't here. I wrecked my car because I was an idiot. That was not your fault." Billy says. He forces his way away from Dom and stands up. "I don't want to talk about this."

Billy feels Dom staring after him as he walks away.

*

Billy comes back out when he smells dinner. It's been four hours.

"I won't have you blaming yourself." Billy says. "I'm going to put my life back together. It's not your responsibility. I'm going to take the first script that comes across my desk and I'm going to get out of here and do something productive."

"Okay," Dom answers. "But will you let me be there with you?"

"You don't have to. You need to go home. You're needed there."

Dom puts his hand on Billy's. "I want to be here."

"Here?"

"With you." Dom clarifies. "Wherever you are."

Billy goes quiet. "We were almost over, weren't we?"

Dom's eyes turn red and he looks down. "Yeah. I think so. You were drowning your sorrows and I was trying to pretend like they didn't exist."

"By pretending that I didn't exist."

"Yeah. Something like that." Dom squeezes Billy's hand. "I don't want that, though."

"Good," Billy says, with a hint of the smile. "Neither do I."

*

A week later, Dom is gone.

Billy goes with him. Packed in his suitcase are three scripts to read on the plane. He'll sort through it all in Hawaii and see what he wants to do next.

From: [identity profile] glass-moment.livejournal.com


...woah. I...dunno what to say. Yes, this is definitely very different from what you usually write. It's all dark and sparse and fragile, sort of. I feel like I should read it very carefully unless I break it. That didn't really make sense. But, wow. Awesome. Different.

From: [identity profile] loozy.livejournal.com


I'll come back with a more coherent review... Just got off my green tea- buzz, and am all emotional now...
I even cried a bit...

This was very good, very different, and very emotional, though the approach is rather clinical. Takes a brilliant writer to still convey emotions in that kind of writing, and you managed to do so superbly.

From: [identity profile] silentdescant.livejournal.com


I was worried in the beginning that it wouldn't have a happy ending, but there's a lot of hope packed into Billy's suitcases in that last bit. :)
ext_41897: (dreaming)

From: [identity profile] pippinmctaggart.livejournal.com


There's something quite dark about this, but very delicate at the same time. Well done indeed. :)
sandelwood: (Default)

From: [personal profile] sandelwood


Scribe is right, it's very sparse, which I heartily approve. This sort of writing means you have to choose every word very carefully to make it work.

The kissing snuck up on me. I made a noise.


From: [identity profile] babydazzle.livejournal.com


I really liked this. Usually, I like the roles reversed, like, but this was an interesting take to see it the other way round. Do you have plans for a part 2?

I also agree with scribe and sandelwood about the sparseness. It is written so minimally, yet effectively. Good job.
ext_18066: Default (Default)

From: [identity profile] apple-pi.livejournal.com


I like the spare way with words you chose here. You're telling a sad story (and one full of anger), but there's not much self-pity to be found in it, and that keeps it good. Really well-written!

From: [identity profile] morebliss.livejournal.com


He's been careful most of his life, hasn't he? Up until now.

This line really got to me for some reason. But all of it was great. I agree with the sparseness comments; it feels like a much longer fic than the word count would suggest. You really captured emotion and scene. Just lovely.

From: [identity profile] foxrafer.livejournal.com


I like how it's written in little vignettes, really nice glimpses into Billy's life.
.