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dylan-dufresne.livejournal.com posting in monaboyd Aug. 9th, 2007 07:00 am)Title: With A Little Help From My Friends - 35/47
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
dylan_dufresne
Pairing: BB/DM
Rating: PG-14, I think.
Summary: An unexpected encounter leads to a surprising turn of events, and the appearance of an old friend.
Feedback: Would be greatly appreciated as it’s my drug of choice. Many thanks to my beta,frojane.
Special Thanks: Toloki_girl for the exquisite banner that she has created, and to tarnishedhalo for loaning me her inspirational manip for the centerpiece. I am so thankful and appreciative of you both, and your generosity.
Disclaimer: Not at all true in reality. This is my imagination at work.
A/N: Another warning of angst. Feel free to curse my Muse, as I hate the bastard. Some readers may want to have some kleenex handy.
Previous Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | 33 | 34
Chapter 35
Both Aaron and Billy are relieved when business in the book shop is steady, so they don’t have to deal with any awkward silences, and the hours pass swiftly. It seems to Aaron that from time to time Billy manages to forget his troubles and even smiles a bit while talking to a young mother looking for solutions to soothe her fussy infant daughter. It’s after half four when Aaron catches Billy frowning as he searches for something on his desk, and then under the counter by the register.
“What are looking for?” he asks.
“A catalogue I need to place an order,” Billy replies, pursing his lips in thought. “I know I had it yesterday.”
“Did you maybe take it upstairs?”
Rolling his eyes, Billy groans in realization. “I was looking at it after dinner. I bet I left it on my night stand this morning.”
Just then the chime above the front door jingles, informing them that another customer has entered the shop.
“If you want, I’ll run up and get it,” Aaron offers. “So you can-”
“You don’t mind?” Billy inquires.
“Be right back,” the younger man says with a quick nod. “On the night stand?”
“Aye, on the left side of the bed,” Billy calls after him. “Thank you!”
Aaron bounds up the stairs and into the flat, moving swiftly down the hall to the master bedroom. He wants to make himself useful, and help Billy distract himself, so this seems a good way to do so on both counts. For the first time since he moved into the flat several weeks ago, Aaron gets to see the bedroom of the couple who have so generously taken him in and sheltered him from his previous life on the street. Not wanting to invade their privacy any more than necessary, he flips on the light and moves directly over the night stand Billy mentioned, picking up a glossy booklet sitting next to a framed photo of Dom, sprawled on a couch and gazing intently into the camera. It’s an intimate picture, and Aaron can understand why Billy keeps it so close.
Perhaps it would help if Aaron spoke to Dom, to shed some light onto what’s going on. Maybe that would help Dom to realize how lost Billy is since they’ve drifted apart, missing his partner so much that he can’t put it into words. Considering all they’ve done, it’s the least he can do, Aaron decides. It certainly can’t hurt.
Turning on his heel, Aaron quickly leaves the room, gripping the banister to steady himself as he returns to the book shop below, catalogue clutched in his free hand. At the bottom of the stairs, however, he skids to a stop, eyes flashing wide. Panic and fear steals his voice, and the glossy order booklet falls from his suddenly trembling fingers, his brain desperately trying to process the scene before him.
Two men are menacingly towering over Billy, whose compact frame is now awkwardly pinned to the wall outside his office, a leather-clad meaty arm pressed firmly against his throat. The flush in Billy’s cheeks tells Aaron that it’s difficult to breathe in that position, but Billy flatly refuses to utter a sound and give the men any satisfaction. If that wasn’t enough, the other man is holding a gun, and seems to be toying with the trigger, to intimidate Billy, Aaron can only assume.
A squeak of protest pushes past Aaron’s constricted throat, and it’s only then that he discovers there is a third person in the room. The low, hard voice that he learned to fear very early on causes his body to shake, the man so close that his breath almost caresses Aaron’s cheek.
“It’s good to see you again, Aaron,” the man says, reaching over and laying his hand on one of the younger man’s slender shoulders. “We’ve been worried about you.”
“I-”
“No, you don’t need to say anything,” the man continues, his tone unsettling, the darkness beneath it growing by the syllable. “We’re here.”
Wracking his brain for a way to get himself and Billy out of this dangerous situation, Aaron’s striking blue eyes dart around the room. Finally, his gaze locks with Billy’s and he can’t look away. This is his fault, and he has to do something to prevent Billy from getting hurt.
“Billy has nothing to do with this,” Aaron chokes out. “He just runs the book shop. I-”
“Shhh,” the man soothes, tightening his hold ever so slightly. “I already know who is responsible, Aaron. There’s no need to defend Mr. Boyd.”
“So we’ll just go, yeah?” Aaron suggests, flinching when the grip on his shoulder causes a sharp twinge of pain. “My stuff is-”
“I’m afraid it’s a wee bit more complicated than that,” the man interrupts, turning Aaron so he’s firmly gripping both of his biceps. “You didn’t obey the rules.”
Aaron is all but cowering now, and Billy doesn’t need to be told that this is the man responsible for the young man’s previous injuries. While he may not be the one who doled out the beating, he most certainly was the one who ordered it.
“I’m here,” Aaron tells him, the desperation in his tone clear as he averts his gaze. “We can just go.”
Now that all eyes are on Aaron, Billy watches the younger man intently and waits until he’s relatively confident that the focus is off of himself. Moving his lips in an exaggerated motion, Billy mouths a single word to Aaron.
Run.
“Now, I know that’s what you want me to do, but that’s just not going to happen.”
“Please,” Aaron begs, tears starting to fill his eyes. “Don’t-”
“I’m getting tired of losing business because your friend, I believe Dominic is his name, keeps getting in the way,” the man announces darkly. “You’d think he would’ve learned his place years ago, since he claims that he used to live there.”
“Dom?” Aaron gasps in shock as he looks up.
“Apparently he needs a refresher about who’s in charge,” the man sneers, and then turns to look at Billy’s captors. “Do it.”
“No!” Aaron cries out as he fights against the hands holding him with all of his strength while Billy is dragged towards the front of the shop. He finally realizes that the lights up front have been dimmed, giving the illusion that the shop is actually closed, and it’s unlikely that anyone will happen upon them. “Billy!”
“Run!” Billy screams hoarsely, suddenly struggling against the men who are trying to drag him away. “Go!”
Adrenaline surges through Aaron’s limbs, and as he wrenches one arm free he tries to bolt, but the older man is much stronger and faster, and before Aaron can take two steps, long, hard fingers grip a handful of white blonde hair, and then the boy is thrown like a rag doll. A sickening crunch is heard as his slender body makes contact with the wall, and then he slumps to the floor. Blood streams down his face from an obviously broken nose, his eyes sluggish and dazed, and it’s the last thing Billy sees before the young man is dragged out the back door.
Turning his attention to his own precarious situation, Billy gathers his strength, preparing himself for whatever his fate will be. It’s clear that he’s going to be used to send a message to Dom, to stop what he’s been fighting so hard to achieve. Summoning his resolve, he lifts his chin to the men in a silent challenge, his deep green eyes flashing, refusing to show any fear. Blow after savage blow is delivered, but Billy’s silence continues, right up until his hears the chilling crack of a breaking bone, and when a hard fist slams into his face, he’s mercifully enveloped in a blanket of darkness, where there is no pain.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
It’s a sharp knock on his door that causes Dom to look up from the paperwork he’s been engrossed in, and he smiles when he makes eye contact with his supervisor.
“Janeanne,” he says warmly. “What are you still doing here?”
“I was about to ask you the same question,” she replies dryly, stepping inside the room and crossing her arms over her chest. “It’s after six.”
“I know. I’m almost done.”
“Dom, when I hired you, I never expected you to live here in your office,” she gently chastises. “You’re here more than I am.”
“I’ve only got a few pages left,” he promises.
“I would’ve thought that you and Billy had plans tonight,” Janeanne remarks thoughtfully. “After all, it is your birthday.”
When Dom’s crooked jaw drops open in shock, the realization sinking in, she can only stare in amazement.
“Fuck,” he curses under his breath, falling back into his chair.
“You forgot?” she asks softly.
“Bacon,” he whispers. “I am such a fucking wanker.”
“What?”
“When I woke up this morning, Billy was already in the kitchen,” Dom explains, shaking his head as the memories and guilt crash over him in heavy waves. “I came into work early. I could smell bacon as I said goodbye and ran out the door. It didn’t even occur to me why he would be making it in the middle of the week.”
“A special breakfast, I’m guessing,” Janeanne supplies gently, moving further into the room and perching on the edge of Dom’s cluttered desk.
“Yeah. It’s a tradition that Bills started right after I moved in,” Dom adds, his eyes growing damp. “We’ve never missed one. Until now.”
“Go home, Dom,” Janeanne urges. “And take tomorrow off.”
“I can’t-”
“I’ve been telling you to get out of here at a decent hour every single day for over a month,” she interrupts firmly. “Go. Now. And take Friday off while you’re at it.”
“But-”
“If I see you in this building before Monday, you’re fired,” she declares, rising to her feet, hands on her hips. “Now go home. I’m sure Billy’s waiting for you.”
Exhaling heavily, Dom relents and nods in agreement. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Turning on her heel, Janeanne starts to leave the room, only to pause in mid-step.
“Dom?”
“Yeah?”
“Happy birthday.”
Dom smiles, albeit weakly. “Thanks.”
He scoops up the phone and presses the speed dial number for the flat as he tucks the receiver between his ear and his shoulder, and listens as the line rings and rings, until the answering machine picks up. Hanging up, Dom then tries the book shop, thinking that perhaps Billy got caught up with a customer and that Aaron wouldn’t feel comfortable answering the phone upstairs. Again, there is no answer.
“They wouldn’t go out, would they?” he asks himself, brow furrowing in dismay. “Not tonight. Not without me.”
As a last resort, Dom dials Billy’s mobile, but it immediately goes to voicemail, telling Dom that it’s currently turned off, so there’s no point leaving a message there. Dom tells himself that he’s being ridiculous, and that there’s a logical explanation as he quickly tidies his desk before, turning off his computer, shutting off the light and leaving the small space. Just over five minutes after Janeanne came by, Dom is on his way home, to find Billy and hopefully make up for this morning. Or start to.
It’s nearly half six now, and the sun has set, the stars twinkling in the dark sky above as Dom walks the four blocks home to the book shop, his pace swift and purposeful. He still can’t believe he’d completely forgotten such an important occasion. A day that once held tremendous pain was healed by Billy’s care, patience and love, and now Dom has undoubtedly hurt his lover. Time seems to have slipped away from him lately, and now he has to try to fix the damage he’s done. Billy has always been so wonderful to him, Dom muses to himself, and he certainly doesn’t deserve to be treated with such inattention and neglect like this.
Rounding the corner and moving into the alley, so he can enter through the back door of the book shop, Dom walks even faster, his breath visible in the cool air, the anxiety building quickly. By the time his feet reach the steps, he already has his keys in hand, and it’s only when he stops that an irrational thought crosses his mind.
What if Billy was angry because of what he did this morning? It’s possible that he would be. He’d certainly be entitled to it, considering Dom’s absence of late.
With trepidation, Dom slides his key into the lock and hopes that the door isn’t bolted from the inside. If it is, he’s helplessly locked out. Dom’s worries change to confusion when he doesn’t feel the lock disengage, meaning that the door is not secured at all. In all the years Dom has known Billy, he’s never once left the door open and unattended. As he twists the knob and jerks the door open, Dom calls out his lover’s name.
“Bills?”
The book shop is dark, with the exception of a small band of light coming from Billy’s office, illuminating a section of the floor and calling to Dom like a beacon in the night. Throat constricted, he all but runs toward it, only to be disappointed. The office is empty, and there’s no sign of Billy. Despite the fact that nothing seems to be amiss, other than his lover’s absence, Dom can’t shake the feeling that something very wrong.
He steps out of the office and looks towards the staircase that leads up to the flat above, and like the book shop, it’s quiet. No sounds of music, or the aroma of cooking. It’s only when Dom’s gaze slides to the left that he notices something on the wall. Curious, he walks over to it, and is about to touch the mark with his fingertips when the aroma of copper washes over him. Instantly, Dom’s stomach twists, for he knows that smell. Blood.
Now panicked as he spins around and flips on the lights, Dom finally notices that the blinds at the front of the shop are open when they should be closed, but the light reveals something far more devastating than he could’ve ever imagined. Dozens of books are strewn about the floor, a number of them with pages ripped out, and nearly every bookshelf that Dom can see has been toppled or smashed, the splintered wood and loose pages scattered all over the floor. Stunned and saddened by the destruction of what his lover has worked so hard to create, nurturing it through good times and bad, Dom’s eyes fill with tears, and the fear clutching at his heart grows exponentially.
“Billy!” he calls desperately, needing the man he loves more than ever.
A tiny sound catches his attention, and without thinking Dom races toward it, crying out in distress when he rounds a corner and discovers Billy crumpled on the floor.
“Oh fuck,” Dom curses, skidding to a stop as he drops to his knees at Billy’s side. “Bills? Baby? Can you hear me?”
Billy doesn’t answer, and when Dom leans over his lover to get a better look, he realizes why. The older man has been beaten unconscious, his sweet face bruised and bloodied, but a split lip and a black eye seem to be the least of his troubles when Dom starts looking over Billy’s body, and realizes that Billy’s left arm is splayed in an unnatural angle. With tentative, shaking fingers, Dom lays them against the side of Billy’s neck, gasping his relief when he finds a pulse, even though it’s nothing like his usual strong, steady heartbeat.
As much as he longs to gather his lover close and comfort him, Dom knows that any movement will most likely cause Billy more pain and possibly further injury, and he’s clearly endured more than enough of that already. Instead, Dom tucks himself in as close as possible, stroking Billy's thinning, ginger hair off his forehead and talking in a soft, soothing voice as he pulls his mobile out of the front pocket of his blue jeans.
“I’m going to get help, Bills,” he murmurs. “I’m here, love.”
Dom doesn’t even realize he’s crying until the salty drops darkens the sleeve of Billy’s light blue shirt, and he struggles to pull himself together as he dials the emergency number.
“I need an ambulance at Boyd’s House of Books,” he says shakily when the other end of the line is answered, unable to tear his eyes away from Billy’s face. “He’s, uh, he’s unconscious. I- I need help. Please.”
Although it’s difficult to concentrate, Dom forces himself to do so, not wanting anything to delay Billy getting the care he so desperately needs. He gives the address for the book shop and all the information he can, begging the operator profusely to hurry. Even though it’s only a few minutes, the wait seems endless, and finally, when Dom is starting to panic, he hears sirens. Shortly after that the ambulance arrives, and Dom is forced to step back so the medical personnel can do their work.
Watching the attendants place a collar around Billy’s neck to stabilize his spine, Dom’s concern for his lover grows, wondering just what the extent of Billy’s injuries are, and what he can’t see. The Scotsman is very carefully rolled onto a flat board, strapped into place, and then lifted to the waiting gurney. Dom is tremendously grateful when his request to ride with Billy is approved, and as the police arrive in the alley, he climbs into the back of the ambulance to sit at Billy’s feet. Never once does Billy give any indication that he’s waking up, only adding to Dom’s distress.
Dom doesn’t understand most of the words the driver uses as he radios ahead to the hospital, and is not sure if it’s a good or a bad sign that a team of doctors and nurses will be waiting for them. As the doors to the ambulance close, Dom looks down at the mobile still clutched in his hand, and he dials a familiar number, needing someone he trusts to take care of Billy, because he deserves the best care possible.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Fingers pressed against the glass that separates him from the medical personnel working on his battered lover, Dom winces when they swiftly cut away Billy’s clothes from his unconscious body, revealing a rainbow of developing bruises, in all the colors of violence. It’s clear that Billy has been even more severely beaten than Dom first thought, his arm broken, and small fingers swelling. Part of Dom is relieved when Billy’s body is covered by a sheet, shielding his eyes from the injuries, and he’s struggling to stay relatively calm when he feels a hand on his shoulder.
“Dom?”
Turning around, Dom is immediately enveloped in Viggo’s strong embrace, and a ragged sob of relief bubbles up in his throat.
“Thank you for coming,” he says hoarsely.
“Of course I’m here,” Viggo replies soothingly. “I came as fast as I could.”
“Billy-”
“I’ll go see what’s going on and I’ll be right back, okay?” Viggo tells him.
Shakily, Dom nods. “Okay.”
“Hang in there, okay? Just try to breathe,” the doctor requests. “He’s in good hands.”
“Go on,” Dom urges, pushing gently at the older man. “He needs you.”
“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” Viggo promises.
Nodding, Dom turns and watches Viggo join the other doctors surrounding Billy in the room, trying not to be terrified by all the machines that are now hooked up to Billy in one way or another. A few minutes later, they start to roll the gurney Billy is lying on through another set of doors and out of Dom’s sight, but Viggo quickly beckons him into the room and gives the younger man his best, reassuring look. Drawing him close and wrapping an arm around Dom’s shoulders, Viggo quickly explains that Billy is going to be admitted into the hospital, and needs to undergo some tests.
The next hour and a half is the longest of Dom’s life, as he and Viggo watch from a distance while Billy has an ultrasound of his bruised abdomen, a full body cat scan, and multiple x-rays, including several of his broken arm. Watching Billy, unconscious and helpless, Dom has trouble holding himself together, his belly twisting in tight knots, and heart pounding erratically against the wall of his chest.
In an attempt to control Dom’s panic, Viggo quickly reassures him that Billy’s all right, that he’s not in immediate danger, but that he wants to ensure that Billy gets the best care possible. That includes being thoroughly tested and then evaluated by a specialist. On wobbly legs, Dom follows Viggo to a waiting room on the third floor of the hospital, but is unable to sit, and paces the length of the room as he waits to be able to see his Billy again. The fact that he’s allowed Billy out of his sight is not making Dom feel any better. The longer they’re apart, the more anxious Dom becomes.
Finally, an orthopedic surgeon arrives with a series of x-rays, and Dom trembles as he listens to the doctor recommend surgery, unable to look away from the light box containing the pictures of the nasty and clearly painful broken bone of Billy’s left arm. Listening to the surgeon describe how the damage was most likely done, how Billy’s arm was unnaturally twisted behind his back until the force became too much for the bones to bear, causes Dom’s belly to churn. Besides the injury to his arm, Billy has also sustained a concussion, numerous bruised ribs, a black eye, and various scrapes to his face. One kidney is bruised as well, and they’re monitoring him closely, just to be on the safe side. Finally, the surgeon leaves them alone, and Dom gnaws on his lower lip as he struggles to make a decision.
“Vig?”
“Yeah?”
“What do I choose?” Dom asks, his eyes bright with unshed tears. “I mean, surgery? That’s big. I-, I don’t-, I don’t know.”
“He trusts you,” Viggo tells the younger man. “That’s why he gave you the power to make medical decisions for him when he couldn’t.”
“But, I don’t know. Should I say yes to the surgery now, or wait to see if Billy wakes up so he can decide for himself?” Dom wonders aloud. “I just never thought something like this would ever happen to us.”
“Well, if you want my opinion-”
“Yes, I do,” Dom interrupts, nodding. “You’re a doctor, but you also care about him. What would you do, if it was up to you to decide?”
“It’s a bad break,” Viggo says, scratching distractedly at his scruffy jaw line as he looks over at the x-rays with a critical eye. “Bill’s going to have enough to deal with when he comes to. If the choice were mine, I’d do the surgery now so his arm will be set and starting to heal when he wakes up.”
“Okay.”
“If it helps, I know his reputation as a surgeon,” Viggo adds, nodding at the door that the orthopedic doctor disappeared through. “He’s very good. The best.”
“Where do I sign?” Dom asks finally, focusing his attention on the clipboard and forms that had been left on the small table in front of him.
As soon as the paperwork is taken care of, Dom swallows hard and runs his shaking fingers through his mussed hair in an attempt to soothe his utterly frayed nerves.
“I need to see him,” Dom says shakily. “Before-”
“I’ll take care of it,” Viggo promises, giving Dom’s shoulder a comforting squeeze. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.”
True to his word, Viggo is back in less than ten minutes, and ushers Dom down a series of hallways, and then into a private room. There, Billy has been transferred to a larger bed, and is now wearing a pale blue hospital gown. An IV line has been inserted and taped into place on the back of Billy’s right hand, a temporary splint placed around his injured arm, and Dom is relieved when Viggo tells him that he had a nurse assigned exclusively to Billy’s care, so until Dom could be with him, Billy would never be alone.
“They’ll be coming to take him to surgery in a few minutes,” Viggo tells him. “You can stay with him until then.”
Only half-listening to what Viggo is saying, Dom rushes to Billy’s side, long fingers tenderly sliding through Billy’s ginger hair as he brushes a feathery kiss across Billy’s fortunately uninjured forehead.
“I’m here, baby,” Dom murmurs, his voice trembling. “I’m right here.”
“We’ll leave you two alone,” Viggo adds softly, then guides the nurse out the door, closing it behind him.
“You need to have surgery, Bills,” Dom continues, letting his tears fall as he gazes longingly at his lover’s bruised face. “Vig thinks it’s best. Then all you have to do is wake up.”
Part of Dom fervently hopes that Billy would open his eyes, and tell him that he made the right decision, but then that would mean that Billy would be awake, and likely in tremendous pain. Even though it’s more difficult for Dom, it’s better this way, so Billy doesn’t have to suffer any more than he already has.
“I don’t want to let you out of my sight, but I have to, so the doctors can do their work,” Dom says quietly. “I’m going to ask Vig to go with you, so I’ll know that you’re in good hands, and I’m going to be right here, waiting for you.”
Closing his eyes, Dom leans in to press a feather-light, tender kiss to Billy’s slack lips.
“I love you,” he whispers hoarsely. “Come back to me. Please, Bills.”
The door behind him opens, and Viggo pokes his head inside the room.
“Dom?”
Wiping his damp eyes, Dom glances over his shoulder. “Yeah?”
“It’s time.”
“Okay.”
Dom lays his hand every so gently over Billy’s heart and kisses him once more before allowing the orderlies to take Billy to surgery. Walking with Billy as far as he’s allowed, Dom turns his eyes to Viggo when a nurse tells him that he can go no further.
“Stay with him?” he pleads. “Please?”
“Of course,” Viggo replies soothingly, drawing Dom close for a hug. “And I’ll check in with you, to let you know how he’s doing.”
“Oh, I don’t want you to leave him-”
“All right,” Viggo agrees with a quick nod. “I won’t, I promise.”
“Thank you.”
Dom watches Viggo walk alongside Billy’s gurney until he’s wheeled into the Operating Room, and Viggo looks back to give him a reassuring look before disappearing from sight.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Dom is staring out the window, restlessly shifting from one foot to the other when the door opens behind him. He sucks in a grateful breath as Billy is wheeled back into his hospital room, a fresh plaster cast covering his left arm from bicep to knuckles. Following right behind the orderlies is Viggo, now wearing blue scrubs, his shirt damp at the collar and a smile turning up the corners of his mouth.
“It went very well,” he tells Dom. “His arm should heal just fine. Good as new.”
Before Billy’s gurney has stopped moving, Dom is at his side, examining him closely, taking in the new addition of the cast. He notices that the scrapes on Billy’s face have been cleaned and covered with bandages, and that the bruising around his eye has darkened somewhat.
“They set the bones and put in two tiny screws to ensure it heals correctly,” Viggo adds. “There’ll be a small scar, but it won’t be too bad. I supervised the stitches to make sure.”
“Thank you,” Dom whispers, stroking Billy’s gingery hair and glancing away long enough to meet Viggo’s caring grey eyes. “Thank you for everything.”
“You’re welcome. I wish I could do more.”
“This was plenty.”
“Oh, before I forget,” Viggo says, digging into the chest pocket of his scrub shirt. “We had to take Bill’s ring off, and I thought you’d prefer to hold onto it, until he can wear it again.”
Accepting the small, platinum band, Dom reverently slips it onto his pinky finger so it’s right beside his ring, then cradles his hand against his chest.
“Thank you,” he chokes out, fresh tears making his eyes glisten.
“He’s going to be all right, Dom,” Viggo adds, giving Dom’s shoulder a gentle squeeze before withdrawing.
“When will he wake up?” Dom asks, the tips of his fingers sliding over the stark white plaster cast.
“He’s been sedated, so not until morning,” Viggo reports. “It’s late. You should go home. Get some sleep.”
“No,” Dom says firmly. “I’m staying right here.”
“Dom-”
“I’m not leaving him,” Dom interrupts, his jaw set in a hard line. “I’m going to be here, holding his hand, when he wakes up.”
“Okay,” Viggo concedes. “I’ll smooth things over so you can stay overnight, and try to get you a cot or something to sleep on.”
“I won’t need it,” Dom replies mildly, dragging a chair up to the edge of the bed and settling into it, his eyes locked on Billy’s sleeping face.
Rather than have an entirely fruitless argument with Dom, seeing as the Englishman has clearly made up his mind, Viggo sighs and nods before slipping out of the room to make the necessary arrangements.
Dom never takes his eyes off Billy as gently takes his lover’s right hand in both of his, taking care not to disturb the IV.
“Rest, baby,” he whispers before lowering his head and pressing a feathery kiss to Billy’s small fingers. “You’re safe here.”
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Distracted by the lab results he’s reviewing, Viggo is unprepared when he turns a corner and runs into the wall of a solid body. Letting out a cry of surprise, he struggles to keep his balance, the papers he was holding fluttering to the floor.
“Sorry about that,” he offers in apology as he quickly crouches down to gather the papers up again. “I wasn’t-”
When Viggo rises and meets the eyes of the person he crashed into, he trails off, eyes widening with shock.
“David.”
“Hey,” the other man replies, resisting the urge to shift from one foot to the other and clearing his throat instead. “It’s been a while.”
“I thought you moved to London,” Viggo says.
“I did. Was planning to stay there, but a promotion opportunity came up, and it meant making a transfer back here,” David explains, the pride evident in his voice.
“So it’s Detective now?”
“Yeah.”
Viggo smiles. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you.”
“So what brings you to the hospital?” Viggo asks, his brow furrowing. “Visiting hours ended some time ago.”
“Need an update on a patient here,” David replies. “I’ve been assigned the investigation for a robbery and assault.”
“Oh.”
“An orderly downstairs said I could find out when I’ll be able to talk to the victim by coming up here,” David adds. “I just need to find the nurses station.”
“Down this way,” Viggo says, gesturing in the direction he was heading before the collision. “What’s the name of the patient?” he inquires as they start to walk.
The detective pulls out a small notepad with a black leather cover and flips it open to read the notes he’d taken at the crime scene. “Boyd. Billy Boyd. Scottish, I’m guessing.”
Stunned, the doctor stops short and stares at David, causing him to stop as well and turn around.
“He’s not-” Unable to sure how to word it, David pauses to think for a moment. “Is he your Bill? The one before-”
“Not anymore,” Viggo reports, recalling how things ended between him and Billy all those years ago and eager to interject. He made some bad decisions after he and Billy broke up, and that resulted in him causing someone else pain. “These days, he’s married.”
Both of David’s blonde eyebrows rise. “Really?”
“To Dominic. He’s from Manchester,” Viggo explains. “They’ve been together about, uh, five years now.”
“So you and Bill didn’t-”
“No, it was over,” the doctor says softly. “I finally managed to let him go. Move on.”
Thinking for a few moments, David nods. “Good. You deserve to be happy.” He pauses to look at Viggo more intently. “You are happy, aren’t you?”
“Yes, very much so.” Viggo’s smile is genuine as he thinks about his partner of over four years. “I met him shortly after Bill met Dom.”
“Oh?”
“We didn’t have any contact for almost six years. Bill felt so bad because of how things ended, so he thought avoiding me would be better.”
“Sounds familiar,” David comments dryly.
“I never meant to hurt you,” Viggo says quietly. “I’m sorry for that. What I did.”
“I know you are,” David replies, his eyes sympathetic. “I should’ve been more careful, getting involved with someone who was clearly in love with someone else.”
“I never consciously thought of you as his replacement.”
“I know. You just wanted to stop hurting.”
“So are you-”
“I was seeing someone in London, but he works in the theatre, and he didn’t want to move away from it,” David confesses. “I can’t blame him for that. He’s very good and it’s what he loves. We’re still friends.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Thank you.” Thinking to himself, David finally smiles, a bit ruefully. “I just don’t have much luck, I guess.”
“When the time is right, it’ll happen,” Viggo soothes. “That’s how it was for me. Love was the last thing I was looking for when I found it.”
“So what does he do?” David asks. “What’s his name?”
“Orlando, and he’s a doctor.”
David smiles. “Met here at the hospital, did you?”
“No, he prefers patients of the four-legged variety,” Viggo replies, chuckling at David’s confusion. “He’s a vet.”
“Oh.”
“We’ve been together for a little over four years now.”
“Married?”
“No. We’re happy with how things are, so why change it?” Viggo replies. “If he wanted to, I would, and he feels the same way. That’s good for now.”
“Sounds very good, actually,” David comments.
Giving his head a shake, Viggo focuses on the reason why David is here at the hospital. “Bill’s room is 1049, but he won’t be awake for another eight hours, at the very earliest. He had to have surgery tonight.”
“So you’re his doctor of record?” David inquires, flipping open his notepad.
“No. Conflict of interest, because we have a history together,” Viggo explains. “However, I can observe, and explain things to Dom.”
“Monaghan, yeah?” David asks after consulting his notes. “He works for a shelter?”
“Community outreach centre,” Viggo tells him. “He started working there just after he finished uni.”
“Well, I’d like to talk to him.”
“He’s with Bill. I can take you to him, but I’m not sure he’ll be up to talking, or if there’s anything he can tell you,” Viggo advises. “When he called me, he said the shop was dark and that nobody was around. He found Bill and called for help.”
“I still need to speak to him.”
“Sure. It’s this way.”
A few minutes later, Viggo slips into Billy’s darkened hospital room, his heart going out to Dom as the younger man gazes longingly at his partner’s sleeping face. At Viggo’s request, David remains at the doorway, the door propped open so he can hear, but not be too much of an intrusion.
“Dom?” Viggo whispers as he draws near.
Looking up with a start, Dom blinks back the excess moisture in his eyes.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, the distress clear in his voice. “Is Billy-”
“No, everything’s okay,” Viggo quickly soothes. “There’s a detective here. He’d like to ask you a few questions.”
“No.”
Surprised at the abruptness of Dom’s voice, the doctor takes a step back before trying a different tactic. “Dom, he’s trying to find out who did this to Bill.”
“I don’t know anything that could help, and I’m not leaving Billy alone for any reason,” Dom states firmly. “Whatever he wants, it can wait until morning. I need to be here. Right here. If the detective doesn’t like it, he’ll have to arrest me.”
“All right,” Viggo replies, nodding. “I’ll tell him.”
By the time Viggo walks out into the hall, David has stepped back and begun writing in his note pad, his lips pursed in thought.
“I’m sorry. He-”
“I heard,” David interrupts following the doctor as he starts to move down the hallway, away from Billy’s room.
“It’s been a rough night,” Viggo offers weakly in explanation. “He’s not usually like this.”
“Yeah.”
“But?” Viggo prompts, seeing that David has more to say.
“Well, it’s not a good sign when someone close to the victim doesn’t want to offer any assistance that could help catch the perpetrators,” David admits, somewhat reluctantly. “It creates more questions.”
“I’m sure he’ll be better after Bill’s woken up.”
Slowly, the detective nods. “We’ll see. I better get back to the station and start my report. I’m sure I’ll see you again.”
“Most likely,” Viggo agrees. “Bill will be in the hospital for a couple of days for observation.”
“I’ll be back later.”
“Bye.”
As David walks away, Viggo’s thoughts are torn, and not for the first time tonight, he feels utterly helpless. Belatedly, he remembers the lab results still clutched in his hand, the latest of Billy’s tests, and he looks back over to Billy’s room. For several long moments he watches Dom, so still and attentive at Billy’s side, and wishes there was something he could’ve done to prevent the attack. Viggo refuses to even consider that Dom could be a part of anything that would hurt his partner, because he knows how much they’ve overcome to be together. No matter what David thinks, it just couldn’t be true.
Glancing at his watch and wincing at the lateness of the hour, Viggo quickly digs into the back pocket of his scrub trousers for his mobile, his thumb already pressing down on speed-dial ‘1’ when he realizes that the screen is dark, the battery dead.
“Dammit,” he curses softly.
Viggo shoves the mobile in his pocket with a heavy sigh, and a moment later, a long, slender arm slides around his waist, hot breath caressing his neck.
“Hey you,” Orlando murmurs softly.
“Or,” Viggo sighs, turning in his lover’s embrace and burying his nose in silky, chestnut curls. “I just tried to call you. My phone’s dead.”
“It’s okay. I know you’ve been busy,” Orlando says, stroking Viggo’s back from waist to neck with one hand in slow, gentle caresses. “How are they?”
“Bill is out of surgery. Bad break to the radius and ulna, but it should heal well,” Viggo tells him. “Dom’s really shaky. He came home late and found the book shop destroyed. It’s a mess. And guess who the detective is, assigned to the case?”
“Someone you know?”
“David.”
Orlando’s deep brown eyes widen. “You’ve seen him?”
“He just left,” Viggo replies. “He wanted to talk to Dom, but he said it could wait until morning, so David left.”
“How’re you doing?” Orlando asks, his tone gentle. “It must’ve been hard, seeing him again.”
“It was, but it was all right, I guess.” Thinking for a moment, Viggo sighs. “He seemed okay. He even asked about you.”
“You told him about me?” Orlando asks with a soft smile.
“Of course. He just broke up with someone to move back here for a job, and I told him that love finds you when you least expect it,” Viggo explains. “He was happy for me.”
The couple move closer to share a soft, brief kiss, and then Orlando’s brow furrows in thought.
“Where is Dom?” he asks.
“With Bill. He wouldn’t go home,” Viggo says ruefully. “He’ll probably watch him sleep all night.”
“If it was you, I wouldn’t leave either,” Orlando adds softly. “When it’s someone you love, all the rules change.”
“Yeah.”
“Is there anything I can do?” Orlando asks, ever so gently tightening his hold on Viggo’s waist.
“You’re already doing it.”
“I think I can do better,” Orlando adds before placing several nibbling kisses to the side of Viggo’s neck.
“Or, I can’t,” Viggo protests weakly. “I’m too tired-”
“To eat Wild Mushroom Fettuccine from Mario’s?” the other man interjects, eyes filled with speculation as he lifts up a brown bag of takeaway. “I thought you would’ve smelled it by now.”
Viggo’s jaw drops. “You brought food?”
“I thought you might be hungry,” Orlando explains with a tiny shrug as they slip apart, their fingers entwining. “Something tells me you didn’t take any breaks to eat, not with Billy and Dom needing your help.”
“God, I love you,” Viggo says fervently, pulling their bodies together firmly and threading his fingers through Orlando’s hair as their lips meet.
“Mmmm-wait,” Orlando murmurs as he reluctantly ends the kiss. “Food will get cold.”
“If I wasn’t starving-”
“I know,” Orlando interrupts gently. “We’d be in the nearest supply closet and I’d be on my way to being naked.”
“And then some, though I had the doctor’s lounge in mind,” Viggo continues. “There’s a mattress in there, but the privacy factor leaves a bit to be desired.”
“So there’s a bed, but is there a table and chairs?” Orlando asks. “A place nearby where we can sit down and eat?”
“Yeah.”
“Lead the way.”
In a matter of minutes, Viggo has ushered Orlando into the fortunately quiet lounge, silently grateful that it isn’t too far from Billy’s hospital room.
“How are the kids?” Viggo asks as he sinks down into a long, overstuffed couch, grateful for the chance to sit down and rest for a few minutes.
“Walked and fed, shedding all over the couch, most likely,” Orlando replies mildly, sitting down as well, shrugging off his coat and opening the bag of takeaway at his feet. “Since they’re home alone.”
“You overindulge them,” Viggo retorts, arching an eyebrow suspiciously at his lover. “They probably think they own the whole house.”
Meeting Viggo’s gaze, Orlando laughs. “Better the couch than our bed, yeah?”
Viggo takes a moment. “Good point.”
Leaning over, Viggo slides a hand along the nape of Orlando’s slender neck, drawing him close again and brushing a feathery kiss over his rosy lips.
“Later,” Orlando insists, pushing gently at Viggo’s chest before pulling a small covered container out of the takeaway bag and peeling off the lid to reveal the steaming contents. “Food first. I was going to get you some Zuppa Toscana, but-”
“Not, this is great, really.” Mouth watering as he shoots Orlando a grateful look, Viggo accepts the makeshift plate and a plastic fork, digging into the fragrant, creamy pasta with gusto, moaning when the decadent flavor explodes over his tongue.
“Thank you,” he murmurs fervently when his mouth is empty.
“You’re welcome,” Orlando replies softly.
“Aren’t you going to eat?” Viggo inquires, straightening up and attempting to peer into the bag at the younger man’s feet.
Silently nodding, Orlando lifts up a second styrofoam container from the takeaway bag and digs around for a plastic fork.
“What did you get?” Viggo asks.
“Ricotta Gnocchi,” Orlando replies with a secretive smile before opening the lid.
“Just like on our first date,” Viggo supplies while he gazes fondly at his lover and reaches over to squeeze his shoulder.
Orlando raises his eyebrows in surprise. “You remember that?”
“I remember everything about that night,” the older man replies, almost dreamily. “Especially the kiss goodnight. Excuse me, kisses. There were more than a few of those.”
Blushing fiercely and humming his agreement, Orlando digs into his own dinner and begins to eat as well, watching Viggo from beneath lowered lashes. While they share the delicious meal, little is said, the men enjoying the time together, their eyes meeting often and warm smiles exchanged. After Viggo polishes off the last of his pasta, he slides the empty container into the brown bag along with the fork, then squeezes Orlando’s knee affectionately.
“That was wonderful,” he says softly. “Thank you.”
Finished with his dinner as well, Orlando smiles and kisses Viggo’s scruffy cheek before he cleans up the remains of their meal. A moment later, he’s moving down the couch and tugging Viggo with him so the older man is stretched out, his head resting on one of Orlando’s thighs. Viggo lies quietly for a few seconds before shifting and trying to sit up again.
“Or, I have to-”
“Lay still and close your eyes for twenty minutes,” Orlando interjects tenderly. “You’re completely knackered.”
“But Dom and Bill-”
“When was the last time you slept?” Orlando interrupts firmly. “You were exhausted before Dom called, and how long ago was that? Please? For me?”
Acquiescing, Viggo rolls onto his side, sighing ever so softly when Orlando begins to stroke his shoulder-length hair with one hand and rub his tense back with the other. Belly full of good food and his body soothed by his lover’s comforting touch, Viggo is asleep within a couple of minutes.
Rubbing between Viggo’s shoulder blades as his chest rises and falls rhythmically, Orlando smiles fondly at the sleeping man, pleased that he decided to check up on the dedicated doctor. He hopes that Billy is resting as comfortably as possible, and that he’ll awaken in the morning to find Dom at his side. His heart goes out to both men, and is grateful that Billy’s going to be all right as well as the fact that he’ll have Dom looking after him as he recovers.
Looking down at his sleeping lover, Orlando’s gaze is soft and tender, and he ever so carefully covers Viggo with his jacket to help keep him warm as he gets some much needed and deserved rest. Billy and Dom will be all right for a few hours, he decides. It’s time for Viggo to be taken care of for a while. Orlando strokes Viggo’s hair until his own exhaustion begins to set in, and after laying his head back on the couch, he lets his eyes close.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Chapter 36
Author:
dylan_dufresne Pairing: BB/DM
Rating: PG-14, I think.
Summary: An unexpected encounter leads to a surprising turn of events, and the appearance of an old friend.
Feedback: Would be greatly appreciated as it’s my drug of choice. Many thanks to my beta,
frojane.Special Thanks: To
loki_girl for the exquisite banner that she has created, and to tarnishedhalo for loaning me her inspirational manip for the centerpiece. I am so thankful and appreciative of you both, and your generosity. Disclaimer: Not at all true in reality. This is my imagination at work.
A/N: Another warning of angst. Feel free to curse my Muse, as I hate the bastard. Some readers may want to have some kleenex handy.
Previous Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | 33 | 34
Chapter 35
Both Aaron and Billy are relieved when business in the book shop is steady, so they don’t have to deal with any awkward silences, and the hours pass swiftly. It seems to Aaron that from time to time Billy manages to forget his troubles and even smiles a bit while talking to a young mother looking for solutions to soothe her fussy infant daughter. It’s after half four when Aaron catches Billy frowning as he searches for something on his desk, and then under the counter by the register.
“What are looking for?” he asks.
“A catalogue I need to place an order,” Billy replies, pursing his lips in thought. “I know I had it yesterday.”
“Did you maybe take it upstairs?”
Rolling his eyes, Billy groans in realization. “I was looking at it after dinner. I bet I left it on my night stand this morning.”
Just then the chime above the front door jingles, informing them that another customer has entered the shop.
“If you want, I’ll run up and get it,” Aaron offers. “So you can-”
“You don’t mind?” Billy inquires.
“Be right back,” the younger man says with a quick nod. “On the night stand?”
“Aye, on the left side of the bed,” Billy calls after him. “Thank you!”
Aaron bounds up the stairs and into the flat, moving swiftly down the hall to the master bedroom. He wants to make himself useful, and help Billy distract himself, so this seems a good way to do so on both counts. For the first time since he moved into the flat several weeks ago, Aaron gets to see the bedroom of the couple who have so generously taken him in and sheltered him from his previous life on the street. Not wanting to invade their privacy any more than necessary, he flips on the light and moves directly over the night stand Billy mentioned, picking up a glossy booklet sitting next to a framed photo of Dom, sprawled on a couch and gazing intently into the camera. It’s an intimate picture, and Aaron can understand why Billy keeps it so close.
Perhaps it would help if Aaron spoke to Dom, to shed some light onto what’s going on. Maybe that would help Dom to realize how lost Billy is since they’ve drifted apart, missing his partner so much that he can’t put it into words. Considering all they’ve done, it’s the least he can do, Aaron decides. It certainly can’t hurt.
Turning on his heel, Aaron quickly leaves the room, gripping the banister to steady himself as he returns to the book shop below, catalogue clutched in his free hand. At the bottom of the stairs, however, he skids to a stop, eyes flashing wide. Panic and fear steals his voice, and the glossy order booklet falls from his suddenly trembling fingers, his brain desperately trying to process the scene before him.
Two men are menacingly towering over Billy, whose compact frame is now awkwardly pinned to the wall outside his office, a leather-clad meaty arm pressed firmly against his throat. The flush in Billy’s cheeks tells Aaron that it’s difficult to breathe in that position, but Billy flatly refuses to utter a sound and give the men any satisfaction. If that wasn’t enough, the other man is holding a gun, and seems to be toying with the trigger, to intimidate Billy, Aaron can only assume.
A squeak of protest pushes past Aaron’s constricted throat, and it’s only then that he discovers there is a third person in the room. The low, hard voice that he learned to fear very early on causes his body to shake, the man so close that his breath almost caresses Aaron’s cheek.
“It’s good to see you again, Aaron,” the man says, reaching over and laying his hand on one of the younger man’s slender shoulders. “We’ve been worried about you.”
“I-”
“No, you don’t need to say anything,” the man continues, his tone unsettling, the darkness beneath it growing by the syllable. “We’re here.”
Wracking his brain for a way to get himself and Billy out of this dangerous situation, Aaron’s striking blue eyes dart around the room. Finally, his gaze locks with Billy’s and he can’t look away. This is his fault, and he has to do something to prevent Billy from getting hurt.
“Billy has nothing to do with this,” Aaron chokes out. “He just runs the book shop. I-”
“Shhh,” the man soothes, tightening his hold ever so slightly. “I already know who is responsible, Aaron. There’s no need to defend Mr. Boyd.”
“So we’ll just go, yeah?” Aaron suggests, flinching when the grip on his shoulder causes a sharp twinge of pain. “My stuff is-”
“I’m afraid it’s a wee bit more complicated than that,” the man interrupts, turning Aaron so he’s firmly gripping both of his biceps. “You didn’t obey the rules.”
Aaron is all but cowering now, and Billy doesn’t need to be told that this is the man responsible for the young man’s previous injuries. While he may not be the one who doled out the beating, he most certainly was the one who ordered it.
“I’m here,” Aaron tells him, the desperation in his tone clear as he averts his gaze. “We can just go.”
Now that all eyes are on Aaron, Billy watches the younger man intently and waits until he’s relatively confident that the focus is off of himself. Moving his lips in an exaggerated motion, Billy mouths a single word to Aaron.
Run.
“Now, I know that’s what you want me to do, but that’s just not going to happen.”
“Please,” Aaron begs, tears starting to fill his eyes. “Don’t-”
“I’m getting tired of losing business because your friend, I believe Dominic is his name, keeps getting in the way,” the man announces darkly. “You’d think he would’ve learned his place years ago, since he claims that he used to live there.”
“Dom?” Aaron gasps in shock as he looks up.
“Apparently he needs a refresher about who’s in charge,” the man sneers, and then turns to look at Billy’s captors. “Do it.”
“No!” Aaron cries out as he fights against the hands holding him with all of his strength while Billy is dragged towards the front of the shop. He finally realizes that the lights up front have been dimmed, giving the illusion that the shop is actually closed, and it’s unlikely that anyone will happen upon them. “Billy!”
“Run!” Billy screams hoarsely, suddenly struggling against the men who are trying to drag him away. “Go!”
Adrenaline surges through Aaron’s limbs, and as he wrenches one arm free he tries to bolt, but the older man is much stronger and faster, and before Aaron can take two steps, long, hard fingers grip a handful of white blonde hair, and then the boy is thrown like a rag doll. A sickening crunch is heard as his slender body makes contact with the wall, and then he slumps to the floor. Blood streams down his face from an obviously broken nose, his eyes sluggish and dazed, and it’s the last thing Billy sees before the young man is dragged out the back door.
Turning his attention to his own precarious situation, Billy gathers his strength, preparing himself for whatever his fate will be. It’s clear that he’s going to be used to send a message to Dom, to stop what he’s been fighting so hard to achieve. Summoning his resolve, he lifts his chin to the men in a silent challenge, his deep green eyes flashing, refusing to show any fear. Blow after savage blow is delivered, but Billy’s silence continues, right up until his hears the chilling crack of a breaking bone, and when a hard fist slams into his face, he’s mercifully enveloped in a blanket of darkness, where there is no pain.
It’s a sharp knock on his door that causes Dom to look up from the paperwork he’s been engrossed in, and he smiles when he makes eye contact with his supervisor.
“Janeanne,” he says warmly. “What are you still doing here?”
“I was about to ask you the same question,” she replies dryly, stepping inside the room and crossing her arms over her chest. “It’s after six.”
“I know. I’m almost done.”
“Dom, when I hired you, I never expected you to live here in your office,” she gently chastises. “You’re here more than I am.”
“I’ve only got a few pages left,” he promises.
“I would’ve thought that you and Billy had plans tonight,” Janeanne remarks thoughtfully. “After all, it is your birthday.”
When Dom’s crooked jaw drops open in shock, the realization sinking in, she can only stare in amazement.
“Fuck,” he curses under his breath, falling back into his chair.
“You forgot?” she asks softly.
“Bacon,” he whispers. “I am such a fucking wanker.”
“What?”
“When I woke up this morning, Billy was already in the kitchen,” Dom explains, shaking his head as the memories and guilt crash over him in heavy waves. “I came into work early. I could smell bacon as I said goodbye and ran out the door. It didn’t even occur to me why he would be making it in the middle of the week.”
“A special breakfast, I’m guessing,” Janeanne supplies gently, moving further into the room and perching on the edge of Dom’s cluttered desk.
“Yeah. It’s a tradition that Bills started right after I moved in,” Dom adds, his eyes growing damp. “We’ve never missed one. Until now.”
“Go home, Dom,” Janeanne urges. “And take tomorrow off.”
“I can’t-”
“I’ve been telling you to get out of here at a decent hour every single day for over a month,” she interrupts firmly. “Go. Now. And take Friday off while you’re at it.”
“But-”
“If I see you in this building before Monday, you’re fired,” she declares, rising to her feet, hands on her hips. “Now go home. I’m sure Billy’s waiting for you.”
Exhaling heavily, Dom relents and nods in agreement. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Turning on her heel, Janeanne starts to leave the room, only to pause in mid-step.
“Dom?”
“Yeah?”
“Happy birthday.”
Dom smiles, albeit weakly. “Thanks.”
He scoops up the phone and presses the speed dial number for the flat as he tucks the receiver between his ear and his shoulder, and listens as the line rings and rings, until the answering machine picks up. Hanging up, Dom then tries the book shop, thinking that perhaps Billy got caught up with a customer and that Aaron wouldn’t feel comfortable answering the phone upstairs. Again, there is no answer.
“They wouldn’t go out, would they?” he asks himself, brow furrowing in dismay. “Not tonight. Not without me.”
As a last resort, Dom dials Billy’s mobile, but it immediately goes to voicemail, telling Dom that it’s currently turned off, so there’s no point leaving a message there. Dom tells himself that he’s being ridiculous, and that there’s a logical explanation as he quickly tidies his desk before, turning off his computer, shutting off the light and leaving the small space. Just over five minutes after Janeanne came by, Dom is on his way home, to find Billy and hopefully make up for this morning. Or start to.
It’s nearly half six now, and the sun has set, the stars twinkling in the dark sky above as Dom walks the four blocks home to the book shop, his pace swift and purposeful. He still can’t believe he’d completely forgotten such an important occasion. A day that once held tremendous pain was healed by Billy’s care, patience and love, and now Dom has undoubtedly hurt his lover. Time seems to have slipped away from him lately, and now he has to try to fix the damage he’s done. Billy has always been so wonderful to him, Dom muses to himself, and he certainly doesn’t deserve to be treated with such inattention and neglect like this.
Rounding the corner and moving into the alley, so he can enter through the back door of the book shop, Dom walks even faster, his breath visible in the cool air, the anxiety building quickly. By the time his feet reach the steps, he already has his keys in hand, and it’s only when he stops that an irrational thought crosses his mind.
What if Billy was angry because of what he did this morning? It’s possible that he would be. He’d certainly be entitled to it, considering Dom’s absence of late.
With trepidation, Dom slides his key into the lock and hopes that the door isn’t bolted from the inside. If it is, he’s helplessly locked out. Dom’s worries change to confusion when he doesn’t feel the lock disengage, meaning that the door is not secured at all. In all the years Dom has known Billy, he’s never once left the door open and unattended. As he twists the knob and jerks the door open, Dom calls out his lover’s name.
“Bills?”
The book shop is dark, with the exception of a small band of light coming from Billy’s office, illuminating a section of the floor and calling to Dom like a beacon in the night. Throat constricted, he all but runs toward it, only to be disappointed. The office is empty, and there’s no sign of Billy. Despite the fact that nothing seems to be amiss, other than his lover’s absence, Dom can’t shake the feeling that something very wrong.
He steps out of the office and looks towards the staircase that leads up to the flat above, and like the book shop, it’s quiet. No sounds of music, or the aroma of cooking. It’s only when Dom’s gaze slides to the left that he notices something on the wall. Curious, he walks over to it, and is about to touch the mark with his fingertips when the aroma of copper washes over him. Instantly, Dom’s stomach twists, for he knows that smell. Blood.
Now panicked as he spins around and flips on the lights, Dom finally notices that the blinds at the front of the shop are open when they should be closed, but the light reveals something far more devastating than he could’ve ever imagined. Dozens of books are strewn about the floor, a number of them with pages ripped out, and nearly every bookshelf that Dom can see has been toppled or smashed, the splintered wood and loose pages scattered all over the floor. Stunned and saddened by the destruction of what his lover has worked so hard to create, nurturing it through good times and bad, Dom’s eyes fill with tears, and the fear clutching at his heart grows exponentially.
“Billy!” he calls desperately, needing the man he loves more than ever.
A tiny sound catches his attention, and without thinking Dom races toward it, crying out in distress when he rounds a corner and discovers Billy crumpled on the floor.
“Oh fuck,” Dom curses, skidding to a stop as he drops to his knees at Billy’s side. “Bills? Baby? Can you hear me?”
Billy doesn’t answer, and when Dom leans over his lover to get a better look, he realizes why. The older man has been beaten unconscious, his sweet face bruised and bloodied, but a split lip and a black eye seem to be the least of his troubles when Dom starts looking over Billy’s body, and realizes that Billy’s left arm is splayed in an unnatural angle. With tentative, shaking fingers, Dom lays them against the side of Billy’s neck, gasping his relief when he finds a pulse, even though it’s nothing like his usual strong, steady heartbeat.
As much as he longs to gather his lover close and comfort him, Dom knows that any movement will most likely cause Billy more pain and possibly further injury, and he’s clearly endured more than enough of that already. Instead, Dom tucks himself in as close as possible, stroking Billy's thinning, ginger hair off his forehead and talking in a soft, soothing voice as he pulls his mobile out of the front pocket of his blue jeans.
“I’m going to get help, Bills,” he murmurs. “I’m here, love.”
Dom doesn’t even realize he’s crying until the salty drops darkens the sleeve of Billy’s light blue shirt, and he struggles to pull himself together as he dials the emergency number.
“I need an ambulance at Boyd’s House of Books,” he says shakily when the other end of the line is answered, unable to tear his eyes away from Billy’s face. “He’s, uh, he’s unconscious. I- I need help. Please.”
Although it’s difficult to concentrate, Dom forces himself to do so, not wanting anything to delay Billy getting the care he so desperately needs. He gives the address for the book shop and all the information he can, begging the operator profusely to hurry. Even though it’s only a few minutes, the wait seems endless, and finally, when Dom is starting to panic, he hears sirens. Shortly after that the ambulance arrives, and Dom is forced to step back so the medical personnel can do their work.
Watching the attendants place a collar around Billy’s neck to stabilize his spine, Dom’s concern for his lover grows, wondering just what the extent of Billy’s injuries are, and what he can’t see. The Scotsman is very carefully rolled onto a flat board, strapped into place, and then lifted to the waiting gurney. Dom is tremendously grateful when his request to ride with Billy is approved, and as the police arrive in the alley, he climbs into the back of the ambulance to sit at Billy’s feet. Never once does Billy give any indication that he’s waking up, only adding to Dom’s distress.
Dom doesn’t understand most of the words the driver uses as he radios ahead to the hospital, and is not sure if it’s a good or a bad sign that a team of doctors and nurses will be waiting for them. As the doors to the ambulance close, Dom looks down at the mobile still clutched in his hand, and he dials a familiar number, needing someone he trusts to take care of Billy, because he deserves the best care possible.
Fingers pressed against the glass that separates him from the medical personnel working on his battered lover, Dom winces when they swiftly cut away Billy’s clothes from his unconscious body, revealing a rainbow of developing bruises, in all the colors of violence. It’s clear that Billy has been even more severely beaten than Dom first thought, his arm broken, and small fingers swelling. Part of Dom is relieved when Billy’s body is covered by a sheet, shielding his eyes from the injuries, and he’s struggling to stay relatively calm when he feels a hand on his shoulder.
“Dom?”
Turning around, Dom is immediately enveloped in Viggo’s strong embrace, and a ragged sob of relief bubbles up in his throat.
“Thank you for coming,” he says hoarsely.
“Of course I’m here,” Viggo replies soothingly. “I came as fast as I could.”
“Billy-”
“I’ll go see what’s going on and I’ll be right back, okay?” Viggo tells him.
Shakily, Dom nods. “Okay.”
“Hang in there, okay? Just try to breathe,” the doctor requests. “He’s in good hands.”
“Go on,” Dom urges, pushing gently at the older man. “He needs you.”
“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” Viggo promises.
Nodding, Dom turns and watches Viggo join the other doctors surrounding Billy in the room, trying not to be terrified by all the machines that are now hooked up to Billy in one way or another. A few minutes later, they start to roll the gurney Billy is lying on through another set of doors and out of Dom’s sight, but Viggo quickly beckons him into the room and gives the younger man his best, reassuring look. Drawing him close and wrapping an arm around Dom’s shoulders, Viggo quickly explains that Billy is going to be admitted into the hospital, and needs to undergo some tests.
The next hour and a half is the longest of Dom’s life, as he and Viggo watch from a distance while Billy has an ultrasound of his bruised abdomen, a full body cat scan, and multiple x-rays, including several of his broken arm. Watching Billy, unconscious and helpless, Dom has trouble holding himself together, his belly twisting in tight knots, and heart pounding erratically against the wall of his chest.
In an attempt to control Dom’s panic, Viggo quickly reassures him that Billy’s all right, that he’s not in immediate danger, but that he wants to ensure that Billy gets the best care possible. That includes being thoroughly tested and then evaluated by a specialist. On wobbly legs, Dom follows Viggo to a waiting room on the third floor of the hospital, but is unable to sit, and paces the length of the room as he waits to be able to see his Billy again. The fact that he’s allowed Billy out of his sight is not making Dom feel any better. The longer they’re apart, the more anxious Dom becomes.
Finally, an orthopedic surgeon arrives with a series of x-rays, and Dom trembles as he listens to the doctor recommend surgery, unable to look away from the light box containing the pictures of the nasty and clearly painful broken bone of Billy’s left arm. Listening to the surgeon describe how the damage was most likely done, how Billy’s arm was unnaturally twisted behind his back until the force became too much for the bones to bear, causes Dom’s belly to churn. Besides the injury to his arm, Billy has also sustained a concussion, numerous bruised ribs, a black eye, and various scrapes to his face. One kidney is bruised as well, and they’re monitoring him closely, just to be on the safe side. Finally, the surgeon leaves them alone, and Dom gnaws on his lower lip as he struggles to make a decision.
“Vig?”
“Yeah?”
“What do I choose?” Dom asks, his eyes bright with unshed tears. “I mean, surgery? That’s big. I-, I don’t-, I don’t know.”
“He trusts you,” Viggo tells the younger man. “That’s why he gave you the power to make medical decisions for him when he couldn’t.”
“But, I don’t know. Should I say yes to the surgery now, or wait to see if Billy wakes up so he can decide for himself?” Dom wonders aloud. “I just never thought something like this would ever happen to us.”
“Well, if you want my opinion-”
“Yes, I do,” Dom interrupts, nodding. “You’re a doctor, but you also care about him. What would you do, if it was up to you to decide?”
“It’s a bad break,” Viggo says, scratching distractedly at his scruffy jaw line as he looks over at the x-rays with a critical eye. “Bill’s going to have enough to deal with when he comes to. If the choice were mine, I’d do the surgery now so his arm will be set and starting to heal when he wakes up.”
“Okay.”
“If it helps, I know his reputation as a surgeon,” Viggo adds, nodding at the door that the orthopedic doctor disappeared through. “He’s very good. The best.”
“Where do I sign?” Dom asks finally, focusing his attention on the clipboard and forms that had been left on the small table in front of him.
As soon as the paperwork is taken care of, Dom swallows hard and runs his shaking fingers through his mussed hair in an attempt to soothe his utterly frayed nerves.
“I need to see him,” Dom says shakily. “Before-”
“I’ll take care of it,” Viggo promises, giving Dom’s shoulder a comforting squeeze. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.”
True to his word, Viggo is back in less than ten minutes, and ushers Dom down a series of hallways, and then into a private room. There, Billy has been transferred to a larger bed, and is now wearing a pale blue hospital gown. An IV line has been inserted and taped into place on the back of Billy’s right hand, a temporary splint placed around his injured arm, and Dom is relieved when Viggo tells him that he had a nurse assigned exclusively to Billy’s care, so until Dom could be with him, Billy would never be alone.
“They’ll be coming to take him to surgery in a few minutes,” Viggo tells him. “You can stay with him until then.”
Only half-listening to what Viggo is saying, Dom rushes to Billy’s side, long fingers tenderly sliding through Billy’s ginger hair as he brushes a feathery kiss across Billy’s fortunately uninjured forehead.
“I’m here, baby,” Dom murmurs, his voice trembling. “I’m right here.”
“We’ll leave you two alone,” Viggo adds softly, then guides the nurse out the door, closing it behind him.
“You need to have surgery, Bills,” Dom continues, letting his tears fall as he gazes longingly at his lover’s bruised face. “Vig thinks it’s best. Then all you have to do is wake up.”
Part of Dom fervently hopes that Billy would open his eyes, and tell him that he made the right decision, but then that would mean that Billy would be awake, and likely in tremendous pain. Even though it’s more difficult for Dom, it’s better this way, so Billy doesn’t have to suffer any more than he already has.
“I don’t want to let you out of my sight, but I have to, so the doctors can do their work,” Dom says quietly. “I’m going to ask Vig to go with you, so I’ll know that you’re in good hands, and I’m going to be right here, waiting for you.”
Closing his eyes, Dom leans in to press a feather-light, tender kiss to Billy’s slack lips.
“I love you,” he whispers hoarsely. “Come back to me. Please, Bills.”
The door behind him opens, and Viggo pokes his head inside the room.
“Dom?”
Wiping his damp eyes, Dom glances over his shoulder. “Yeah?”
“It’s time.”
“Okay.”
Dom lays his hand every so gently over Billy’s heart and kisses him once more before allowing the orderlies to take Billy to surgery. Walking with Billy as far as he’s allowed, Dom turns his eyes to Viggo when a nurse tells him that he can go no further.
“Stay with him?” he pleads. “Please?”
“Of course,” Viggo replies soothingly, drawing Dom close for a hug. “And I’ll check in with you, to let you know how he’s doing.”
“Oh, I don’t want you to leave him-”
“All right,” Viggo agrees with a quick nod. “I won’t, I promise.”
“Thank you.”
Dom watches Viggo walk alongside Billy’s gurney until he’s wheeled into the Operating Room, and Viggo looks back to give him a reassuring look before disappearing from sight.
Dom is staring out the window, restlessly shifting from one foot to the other when the door opens behind him. He sucks in a grateful breath as Billy is wheeled back into his hospital room, a fresh plaster cast covering his left arm from bicep to knuckles. Following right behind the orderlies is Viggo, now wearing blue scrubs, his shirt damp at the collar and a smile turning up the corners of his mouth.
“It went very well,” he tells Dom. “His arm should heal just fine. Good as new.”
Before Billy’s gurney has stopped moving, Dom is at his side, examining him closely, taking in the new addition of the cast. He notices that the scrapes on Billy’s face have been cleaned and covered with bandages, and that the bruising around his eye has darkened somewhat.
“They set the bones and put in two tiny screws to ensure it heals correctly,” Viggo adds. “There’ll be a small scar, but it won’t be too bad. I supervised the stitches to make sure.”
“Thank you,” Dom whispers, stroking Billy’s gingery hair and glancing away long enough to meet Viggo’s caring grey eyes. “Thank you for everything.”
“You’re welcome. I wish I could do more.”
“This was plenty.”
“Oh, before I forget,” Viggo says, digging into the chest pocket of his scrub shirt. “We had to take Bill’s ring off, and I thought you’d prefer to hold onto it, until he can wear it again.”
Accepting the small, platinum band, Dom reverently slips it onto his pinky finger so it’s right beside his ring, then cradles his hand against his chest.
“Thank you,” he chokes out, fresh tears making his eyes glisten.
“He’s going to be all right, Dom,” Viggo adds, giving Dom’s shoulder a gentle squeeze before withdrawing.
“When will he wake up?” Dom asks, the tips of his fingers sliding over the stark white plaster cast.
“He’s been sedated, so not until morning,” Viggo reports. “It’s late. You should go home. Get some sleep.”
“No,” Dom says firmly. “I’m staying right here.”
“Dom-”
“I’m not leaving him,” Dom interrupts, his jaw set in a hard line. “I’m going to be here, holding his hand, when he wakes up.”
“Okay,” Viggo concedes. “I’ll smooth things over so you can stay overnight, and try to get you a cot or something to sleep on.”
“I won’t need it,” Dom replies mildly, dragging a chair up to the edge of the bed and settling into it, his eyes locked on Billy’s sleeping face.
Rather than have an entirely fruitless argument with Dom, seeing as the Englishman has clearly made up his mind, Viggo sighs and nods before slipping out of the room to make the necessary arrangements.
Dom never takes his eyes off Billy as gently takes his lover’s right hand in both of his, taking care not to disturb the IV.
“Rest, baby,” he whispers before lowering his head and pressing a feathery kiss to Billy’s small fingers. “You’re safe here.”
Distracted by the lab results he’s reviewing, Viggo is unprepared when he turns a corner and runs into the wall of a solid body. Letting out a cry of surprise, he struggles to keep his balance, the papers he was holding fluttering to the floor.
“Sorry about that,” he offers in apology as he quickly crouches down to gather the papers up again. “I wasn’t-”
When Viggo rises and meets the eyes of the person he crashed into, he trails off, eyes widening with shock.
“David.”
“Hey,” the other man replies, resisting the urge to shift from one foot to the other and clearing his throat instead. “It’s been a while.”
“I thought you moved to London,” Viggo says.
“I did. Was planning to stay there, but a promotion opportunity came up, and it meant making a transfer back here,” David explains, the pride evident in his voice.
“So it’s Detective now?”
“Yeah.”
Viggo smiles. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you.”
“So what brings you to the hospital?” Viggo asks, his brow furrowing. “Visiting hours ended some time ago.”
“Need an update on a patient here,” David replies. “I’ve been assigned the investigation for a robbery and assault.”
“Oh.”
“An orderly downstairs said I could find out when I’ll be able to talk to the victim by coming up here,” David adds. “I just need to find the nurses station.”
“Down this way,” Viggo says, gesturing in the direction he was heading before the collision. “What’s the name of the patient?” he inquires as they start to walk.
The detective pulls out a small notepad with a black leather cover and flips it open to read the notes he’d taken at the crime scene. “Boyd. Billy Boyd. Scottish, I’m guessing.”
Stunned, the doctor stops short and stares at David, causing him to stop as well and turn around.
“He’s not-” Unable to sure how to word it, David pauses to think for a moment. “Is he your Bill? The one before-”
“Not anymore,” Viggo reports, recalling how things ended between him and Billy all those years ago and eager to interject. He made some bad decisions after he and Billy broke up, and that resulted in him causing someone else pain. “These days, he’s married.”
Both of David’s blonde eyebrows rise. “Really?”
“To Dominic. He’s from Manchester,” Viggo explains. “They’ve been together about, uh, five years now.”
“So you and Bill didn’t-”
“No, it was over,” the doctor says softly. “I finally managed to let him go. Move on.”
Thinking for a few moments, David nods. “Good. You deserve to be happy.” He pauses to look at Viggo more intently. “You are happy, aren’t you?”
“Yes, very much so.” Viggo’s smile is genuine as he thinks about his partner of over four years. “I met him shortly after Bill met Dom.”
“Oh?”
“We didn’t have any contact for almost six years. Bill felt so bad because of how things ended, so he thought avoiding me would be better.”
“Sounds familiar,” David comments dryly.
“I never meant to hurt you,” Viggo says quietly. “I’m sorry for that. What I did.”
“I know you are,” David replies, his eyes sympathetic. “I should’ve been more careful, getting involved with someone who was clearly in love with someone else.”
“I never consciously thought of you as his replacement.”
“I know. You just wanted to stop hurting.”
“So are you-”
“I was seeing someone in London, but he works in the theatre, and he didn’t want to move away from it,” David confesses. “I can’t blame him for that. He’s very good and it’s what he loves. We’re still friends.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Thank you.” Thinking to himself, David finally smiles, a bit ruefully. “I just don’t have much luck, I guess.”
“When the time is right, it’ll happen,” Viggo soothes. “That’s how it was for me. Love was the last thing I was looking for when I found it.”
“So what does he do?” David asks. “What’s his name?”
“Orlando, and he’s a doctor.”
David smiles. “Met here at the hospital, did you?”
“No, he prefers patients of the four-legged variety,” Viggo replies, chuckling at David’s confusion. “He’s a vet.”
“Oh.”
“We’ve been together for a little over four years now.”
“Married?”
“No. We’re happy with how things are, so why change it?” Viggo replies. “If he wanted to, I would, and he feels the same way. That’s good for now.”
“Sounds very good, actually,” David comments.
Giving his head a shake, Viggo focuses on the reason why David is here at the hospital. “Bill’s room is 1049, but he won’t be awake for another eight hours, at the very earliest. He had to have surgery tonight.”
“So you’re his doctor of record?” David inquires, flipping open his notepad.
“No. Conflict of interest, because we have a history together,” Viggo explains. “However, I can observe, and explain things to Dom.”
“Monaghan, yeah?” David asks after consulting his notes. “He works for a shelter?”
“Community outreach centre,” Viggo tells him. “He started working there just after he finished uni.”
“Well, I’d like to talk to him.”
“He’s with Bill. I can take you to him, but I’m not sure he’ll be up to talking, or if there’s anything he can tell you,” Viggo advises. “When he called me, he said the shop was dark and that nobody was around. He found Bill and called for help.”
“I still need to speak to him.”
“Sure. It’s this way.”
A few minutes later, Viggo slips into Billy’s darkened hospital room, his heart going out to Dom as the younger man gazes longingly at his partner’s sleeping face. At Viggo’s request, David remains at the doorway, the door propped open so he can hear, but not be too much of an intrusion.
“Dom?” Viggo whispers as he draws near.
Looking up with a start, Dom blinks back the excess moisture in his eyes.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, the distress clear in his voice. “Is Billy-”
“No, everything’s okay,” Viggo quickly soothes. “There’s a detective here. He’d like to ask you a few questions.”
“No.”
Surprised at the abruptness of Dom’s voice, the doctor takes a step back before trying a different tactic. “Dom, he’s trying to find out who did this to Bill.”
“I don’t know anything that could help, and I’m not leaving Billy alone for any reason,” Dom states firmly. “Whatever he wants, it can wait until morning. I need to be here. Right here. If the detective doesn’t like it, he’ll have to arrest me.”
“All right,” Viggo replies, nodding. “I’ll tell him.”
By the time Viggo walks out into the hall, David has stepped back and begun writing in his note pad, his lips pursed in thought.
“I’m sorry. He-”
“I heard,” David interrupts following the doctor as he starts to move down the hallway, away from Billy’s room.
“It’s been a rough night,” Viggo offers weakly in explanation. “He’s not usually like this.”
“Yeah.”
“But?” Viggo prompts, seeing that David has more to say.
“Well, it’s not a good sign when someone close to the victim doesn’t want to offer any assistance that could help catch the perpetrators,” David admits, somewhat reluctantly. “It creates more questions.”
“I’m sure he’ll be better after Bill’s woken up.”
Slowly, the detective nods. “We’ll see. I better get back to the station and start my report. I’m sure I’ll see you again.”
“Most likely,” Viggo agrees. “Bill will be in the hospital for a couple of days for observation.”
“I’ll be back later.”
“Bye.”
As David walks away, Viggo’s thoughts are torn, and not for the first time tonight, he feels utterly helpless. Belatedly, he remembers the lab results still clutched in his hand, the latest of Billy’s tests, and he looks back over to Billy’s room. For several long moments he watches Dom, so still and attentive at Billy’s side, and wishes there was something he could’ve done to prevent the attack. Viggo refuses to even consider that Dom could be a part of anything that would hurt his partner, because he knows how much they’ve overcome to be together. No matter what David thinks, it just couldn’t be true.
Glancing at his watch and wincing at the lateness of the hour, Viggo quickly digs into the back pocket of his scrub trousers for his mobile, his thumb already pressing down on speed-dial ‘1’ when he realizes that the screen is dark, the battery dead.
“Dammit,” he curses softly.
Viggo shoves the mobile in his pocket with a heavy sigh, and a moment later, a long, slender arm slides around his waist, hot breath caressing his neck.
“Hey you,” Orlando murmurs softly.
“Or,” Viggo sighs, turning in his lover’s embrace and burying his nose in silky, chestnut curls. “I just tried to call you. My phone’s dead.”
“It’s okay. I know you’ve been busy,” Orlando says, stroking Viggo’s back from waist to neck with one hand in slow, gentle caresses. “How are they?”
“Bill is out of surgery. Bad break to the radius and ulna, but it should heal well,” Viggo tells him. “Dom’s really shaky. He came home late and found the book shop destroyed. It’s a mess. And guess who the detective is, assigned to the case?”
“Someone you know?”
“David.”
Orlando’s deep brown eyes widen. “You’ve seen him?”
“He just left,” Viggo replies. “He wanted to talk to Dom, but he said it could wait until morning, so David left.”
“How’re you doing?” Orlando asks, his tone gentle. “It must’ve been hard, seeing him again.”
“It was, but it was all right, I guess.” Thinking for a moment, Viggo sighs. “He seemed okay. He even asked about you.”
“You told him about me?” Orlando asks with a soft smile.
“Of course. He just broke up with someone to move back here for a job, and I told him that love finds you when you least expect it,” Viggo explains. “He was happy for me.”
The couple move closer to share a soft, brief kiss, and then Orlando’s brow furrows in thought.
“Where is Dom?” he asks.
“With Bill. He wouldn’t go home,” Viggo says ruefully. “He’ll probably watch him sleep all night.”
“If it was you, I wouldn’t leave either,” Orlando adds softly. “When it’s someone you love, all the rules change.”
“Yeah.”
“Is there anything I can do?” Orlando asks, ever so gently tightening his hold on Viggo’s waist.
“You’re already doing it.”
“I think I can do better,” Orlando adds before placing several nibbling kisses to the side of Viggo’s neck.
“Or, I can’t,” Viggo protests weakly. “I’m too tired-”
“To eat Wild Mushroom Fettuccine from Mario’s?” the other man interjects, eyes filled with speculation as he lifts up a brown bag of takeaway. “I thought you would’ve smelled it by now.”
Viggo’s jaw drops. “You brought food?”
“I thought you might be hungry,” Orlando explains with a tiny shrug as they slip apart, their fingers entwining. “Something tells me you didn’t take any breaks to eat, not with Billy and Dom needing your help.”
“God, I love you,” Viggo says fervently, pulling their bodies together firmly and threading his fingers through Orlando’s hair as their lips meet.
“Mmmm-wait,” Orlando murmurs as he reluctantly ends the kiss. “Food will get cold.”
“If I wasn’t starving-”
“I know,” Orlando interrupts gently. “We’d be in the nearest supply closet and I’d be on my way to being naked.”
“And then some, though I had the doctor’s lounge in mind,” Viggo continues. “There’s a mattress in there, but the privacy factor leaves a bit to be desired.”
“So there’s a bed, but is there a table and chairs?” Orlando asks. “A place nearby where we can sit down and eat?”
“Yeah.”
“Lead the way.”
In a matter of minutes, Viggo has ushered Orlando into the fortunately quiet lounge, silently grateful that it isn’t too far from Billy’s hospital room.
“How are the kids?” Viggo asks as he sinks down into a long, overstuffed couch, grateful for the chance to sit down and rest for a few minutes.
“Walked and fed, shedding all over the couch, most likely,” Orlando replies mildly, sitting down as well, shrugging off his coat and opening the bag of takeaway at his feet. “Since they’re home alone.”
“You overindulge them,” Viggo retorts, arching an eyebrow suspiciously at his lover. “They probably think they own the whole house.”
Meeting Viggo’s gaze, Orlando laughs. “Better the couch than our bed, yeah?”
Viggo takes a moment. “Good point.”
Leaning over, Viggo slides a hand along the nape of Orlando’s slender neck, drawing him close again and brushing a feathery kiss over his rosy lips.
“Later,” Orlando insists, pushing gently at Viggo’s chest before pulling a small covered container out of the takeaway bag and peeling off the lid to reveal the steaming contents. “Food first. I was going to get you some Zuppa Toscana, but-”
“Not, this is great, really.” Mouth watering as he shoots Orlando a grateful look, Viggo accepts the makeshift plate and a plastic fork, digging into the fragrant, creamy pasta with gusto, moaning when the decadent flavor explodes over his tongue.
“Thank you,” he murmurs fervently when his mouth is empty.
“You’re welcome,” Orlando replies softly.
“Aren’t you going to eat?” Viggo inquires, straightening up and attempting to peer into the bag at the younger man’s feet.
Silently nodding, Orlando lifts up a second styrofoam container from the takeaway bag and digs around for a plastic fork.
“What did you get?” Viggo asks.
“Ricotta Gnocchi,” Orlando replies with a secretive smile before opening the lid.
“Just like on our first date,” Viggo supplies while he gazes fondly at his lover and reaches over to squeeze his shoulder.
Orlando raises his eyebrows in surprise. “You remember that?”
“I remember everything about that night,” the older man replies, almost dreamily. “Especially the kiss goodnight. Excuse me, kisses. There were more than a few of those.”
Blushing fiercely and humming his agreement, Orlando digs into his own dinner and begins to eat as well, watching Viggo from beneath lowered lashes. While they share the delicious meal, little is said, the men enjoying the time together, their eyes meeting often and warm smiles exchanged. After Viggo polishes off the last of his pasta, he slides the empty container into the brown bag along with the fork, then squeezes Orlando’s knee affectionately.
“That was wonderful,” he says softly. “Thank you.”
Finished with his dinner as well, Orlando smiles and kisses Viggo’s scruffy cheek before he cleans up the remains of their meal. A moment later, he’s moving down the couch and tugging Viggo with him so the older man is stretched out, his head resting on one of Orlando’s thighs. Viggo lies quietly for a few seconds before shifting and trying to sit up again.
“Or, I have to-”
“Lay still and close your eyes for twenty minutes,” Orlando interjects tenderly. “You’re completely knackered.”
“But Dom and Bill-”
“When was the last time you slept?” Orlando interrupts firmly. “You were exhausted before Dom called, and how long ago was that? Please? For me?”
Acquiescing, Viggo rolls onto his side, sighing ever so softly when Orlando begins to stroke his shoulder-length hair with one hand and rub his tense back with the other. Belly full of good food and his body soothed by his lover’s comforting touch, Viggo is asleep within a couple of minutes.
Rubbing between Viggo’s shoulder blades as his chest rises and falls rhythmically, Orlando smiles fondly at the sleeping man, pleased that he decided to check up on the dedicated doctor. He hopes that Billy is resting as comfortably as possible, and that he’ll awaken in the morning to find Dom at his side. His heart goes out to both men, and is grateful that Billy’s going to be all right as well as the fact that he’ll have Dom looking after him as he recovers.
Looking down at his sleeping lover, Orlando’s gaze is soft and tender, and he ever so carefully covers Viggo with his jacket to help keep him warm as he gets some much needed and deserved rest. Billy and Dom will be all right for a few hours, he decides. It’s time for Viggo to be taken care of for a while. Orlando strokes Viggo’s hair until his own exhaustion begins to set in, and after laying his head back on the couch, he lets his eyes close.
Chapter 36
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From:
no subject
It's bad that it took something of this magnitude to get Dom's attention. He's been so focused on his work, that he literally forgot about his own birthday.
Looks like Aaron is in some deep trouble - I only hope those men don't come after Dom.
And picking David Wenham as the detective? Brilliant choice - I've met him in person, and he'd be perfect for a role like this.
From:
no subject
Dom was oblivious, and now he's getting a huge wake up call.
I'm so pleased that someone else thought David was the perfect fit. I couldn't think of anyone else that suited the role.
Thank you.
From:
no subject
Poor, dear, sweet Billy......and I agree with telpethoron, it shouldn't have taken something that big to get Dom's attention.
And I would also say that Aaron's in trouble. Trying to get to Dom through attacking Billy, those men did. But why? I'm assuming that will come out later....
When you said things would get worse, I never could have imagined this....
From:
no subject
I think it's safe to say that things aren't looking too good right now, for anyone involved.
Thank you.
From:
no subject
From:
no subject
Thank you.
From:
no subject
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Thank you.
From:
no subject
David wow I wonder who he was dating? I hope he doesn't think Dom did this and I hope Dom co-operates so that he isn't a suspect. I think that would hurt them even worse if he was arrested.
I'm so glad Billy will be ok at least physically any way, mentally it's going to take some time and talking to Dr Tyler. Thanks again great twist. :D
From:
no subject
Billy's injuries aren't life-threatening, but it's going to take some time to heal, and not just physically.
Thank you.
From:
no subject
ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!
the bookshop! the billy! aaron? oh fuck.
*wonders what pancakes rotting in the bin will smell like then they finally manage to get home*
my icon doesn't even begin to cover this one.
From:
no subject
Keep breathing, okay?
Things are a mess right now, that's for sure. And I think the garbage was taken out earlier, so it won't be rotting in the bin.
Thanks, hon. :::hugs you:::
From:
no subject
i knew with the phone call before it was going to get ugly, but dayum. rotten ratbastards.
where's aaron??? poor baby. he tried so hard to give himself to those men so they wouldn't hurt billy.
i can't even imagine the pain dom will go through when he realizes he's the 'cause' (even if he's not to blame) for this assault.
:the sound you may be hearing is that of me gnashing my teeth. i'll be off line mostly till next thursday... this sucks! and not in the nice friendly way, either:
kerry
From:
no subject
Thank you, and I hope you get a chance to get online over the next few days so you don't get too far behind.