Out of Place

[subtle-dusk.livejournal.com]

Pairing: Monaboyd
Rating: R for loads of swearing
Summary: Another red carpet story
Notes: This will be the final red carpet story for me. Thanks to everyone who commented on my last submission. This is dedicated to all of you, because without you, I wouldn't have started to angst over the stupid chin squeeze that we are all blowing out of proportion (i hope i hope) and if I hadn't angsted, this never would have been written. You make me angst, here is the result. Also, a note on the swearing. It has been recorded in many, many interviews that Elijah and Dom and Orlando (even though he isn't really featured) swear. A lot. That is my explination. Crossposted to fellow_shippers.
Disclaimer: I do not know them, this never happened. I mean, the Oscars happened. Right.



Sean had called two days prior to Billy’s flight to ask if he would mind very much a boy’s night at the Oscars, no wives, girlfriends, or female companions-of-the-night, just a final get-together of four best friends, because essentially that is what this was going to be; one last night of walking down the red carpet, all four hobbits present.

Billy, of course, had not minded in the least, though a slight reservation whispered softly in the back of his mind. He told Ali the situation and she grinned, rolling her eyes good-naturedly as was her habit.

“I’ll find something to keep me entertained all Sunday, no worries.” It must have been apparent on Billy’s face that, given Sean’s call and that he would walk the red carpet with his friends, he had not anticipated Ali coming at all, now. “You want me to not come for the weekend?” she asked and Billy, being Billy, rushed into reassurances and her grin was back in place.

*~*~*

Elijah had agreed to drive Billy from the airport, and perhaps it was because he, too, assumed Ali would no longer be coming along as a result of Sean’s suggestion, but whatever the reason, he had invited Dom to keep him company.

“Oh fuck,” Elijah swore under his breath, barely an exhalation of words and smoke, dropping his clove to the ground and crushing it beneath a trainer. His eyes moved instantly to Dom, who, for all appearances, had not moved from his position leaning against the side of Elijah’s car. Elijah, being Elijah, could see the tension coiled within him though, arms crossed unnaturally tight across his chest, body more rigid than it should have been.

“Did you know?” he asked softly, eyes not leaving the arrivals walking briskly towards them, but Elijah had already begun shaking his head so vigorously that Dom knew Ali’s appearance—arm linked with Billy’s, grinning wide and waving--was as much of a surprise to both of them.

“Dom--” Elijah began but Billy said it at the same time and no matter how often this happened, how often someone spoke at the same time as Billy, Dom’s attention would always, always focus itself on Billy. It was something that never ceased to piss Elijah well and truly off.

“Hello Bill,” and there was a pause, you wouldn’t have known it if you didn’t know Dom, but the fast-talking Englishman always had something to say and would say it and just keep going and any type of pause was not necessarily a good sign, but, not even the length of a heartbeat, there it was, “Alison.”

“Hello Dom, how’ve you been? Elijah, it’s awfully nice of you to come out here and pick us up. Oh, no, Dom, that’s alright, I can place my pack in the boot myself, thank you though,” and she proceeded to do just that, leaving Dom standing closer to Billy than he would have liked.

“It’s good to see you, Dom,” Billy said and Elijah caught it and flinched because Billy referring to Dom as anything other than ‘Dommie’ to his face was just so out of place but then again these days everything was out of place and nothing was as it should be, so perhaps, in a weird way, it sort of fit and when Elijah thought this he shook his head to clear it, because obviously he had given the greeting way too much thought.

“As always, Billy,” Dom said and flashed that cheeky grin that was just so Dom and if it didn’t fool Billy—it sure as hell didn’t fool Elijah—it put Ali at ease.

They hadn’t been together more than five minutes and already Elijah could feel the tension as though it were a thick, heavy, tangible presence around them. Heaving a sigh, Elijah lit another clove and ducked into the driver’s seat.

When Dom asked for a clove, Elijah knew it was going to be an excruciating three days.

*~*~*

He couldn’t understand why, exactly, Billy had brought Ali along with him. He wasn’t going to be spending any time with her, it seemed, if Sean had his way (which he usually did). Sean had already made reservations at their favorite Korean restaurant—Woo Lae Oak, naturally—for the night, the next day they would be walking the red carpet, and Monday Billy would return to Scotland. It didn’t make sense to him, but these things rarely did.

At the moment they were only waiting for Billy’s call to go and pick him up, and then meet Sean at Woo Lae Oak, from which they would no doubt journey to one club or another, just the four of them.

So when Dom joined him on the balcony of their flat, prepared to light a Parliament, Elijah was not at all surprised.

“Don’t be bitter,” Elijah murmured around his clove, but it wasn’t necessary because Dom pulled up a deck chair, plopped down in it and simply inhaled, letting the smoke swirl around in his lungs before breathing it out his nose. “Those are fucking cheap cigarettes,” Elijah said. Dom examined the one he was presently holding between his fingers and shrugged.

“They won’t kill me as fast as those,” he replied, indicating Elijah’s clove.

“Wouldn’t be sure of that, mate,” and Dom had to smile, because whenever Elijah used any sort of Britism, it always made him smile. The words that fit into his everyday life never seemed quite right coming out of Elijah’s mouth, but he liked it just the same.

“Where the fuck is Orlando?” Dom wondered out loud, flicking the end of his cigarette. Elijah shrugged, leaning back in his chair, clove balanced between his lips.

“Filming still, I guess.”

“What happened to the days when we were all at these fucking events? All nine of us and Liv and Christopher and Miranda and Andy…and everyone.” Dom exhaled slowly, a thin stream of smoke coalescing outside of his mouth. He batted at it, making it disappear quickly. “Now we’re fucking lucky if the four of us can all walk together.”

“People have agendas. It makes it hard to come up to LA for a day when you’re shooting six days a week down in the Caribbean.”

“I thought he was in Mexico.”

“Who the fuck cares, it’s all down south that way.” The melody to one of Elijah’s favorite songs-of-the-moment sounded from somewhere in his pants and after swearing and passing his clove to the other hand, he pulled out and flipped open his mobile. “Fuckin’ A, we were just talking about you!…No, you cunt, I’m not smashed. It’s mid-afternoon, give me some fucking credit…Yeah…as well…He brought the bird…No fucking clue…Not if Sean can help it…He’s here…” Elijah passed the phone to Dom. “Fucker wants to talk to you.”

“Where the hell are you?…Why the fuck should I give a damn?…Don’t go all Legolas on me, you cunt…Orli, Elijah’s mouthing something to me, what the fuck are you trying to say? Oh, he wants to know if you actually proposed to Kate…” Dom swore, glared at the phone, and handed it back to Elijah. “Bugger started laughing and rang off.” He inhaled around his cigarette and, exhaling, asked casually, “What did he want?”

“Who bloody knows? He’s fucking Orlando Bloom. He calls to tell us he had a great surf.” Elijah made a face, but Dom was not convinced. “He wanted to know how things were going.” Dom raised an eyebrow as he made several smoke rings.

“Things?”

“For fuck’s sake Dom, it isn’t exactly ancient history, you and Billy, and I know you don’t want to hear it,” Elijah continued as Dom made a move to get up, “but we’re your friends, both of you, and we worry about you guys.” Elijah paused, finishing off his clove. “You, mostly.” Dom had the decency to look slightly embarrassed. “Will you be okay tonight?”

“I’ve no intentions of ruining Sean fucking Astin’s fucking weekend,” Dom said, but it was without malice. “He’s right, at any rate. This probably will be that last big gathering. We’re not even all fucking here.”

“It will not. Don’t go fucking nostalgic on me, Sblomie. Sean’s determined to bring us all together at least once a year, and with Viggo backing that, it’ll happen. What the fuck is taking Billy?” Instead of an answer, which would not have been pleasant, Elijah knew, Dom sighed, long and deep. He rubbed his eyes and stretched, kicking the chair he had previously been occupying gently off to the side so no one would trip when coming back out onto the balcony.

“You’re a good man, Doodle,” Dom said, and Elijah found himself flushing inexplicably as Dom ruffled his hair.

“Fuck off,” Elijah groaned, feigning annoyance. The phone within the flat rang, and Dom allowed Elijah to bound past him in order to answer it. Dom slid the door shut and locked it behind him, turning to Elijah.

“That was Billy. Let’s get this fucking show on the road.”

“You ought to stop swearing so much, Lij. The girls don’t like it,” and grinning a small, albeit fuckingfinally sincere grin, Dom dodged the paper towel roll aimed at his head and ducked out the door.

*~*~*

If anything, it was Billy who was making the ride to Woo Lae Oak’s tense. Dom seemed genuinely content to mess with Elijah’s radio and sing along loudly and obnoxiously to the snippets of songs they caught before he’d had enough and switched the station. Elijah tried to keep Billy talking, it wasn’t entirely hard to do, because Elijah tended to not shut up at all when he was nervous, and as a result he ended up cutting Billy’s answers off by asking another question, so focused was he on not driving an awkwardly silent car.

Dom seemed to catch onto this and burst out laughing the next time Elijah did it, the exasperation (but good humor, always good humor) on Billy’s face just too funny.

“Lighten up, Lij,” Dom said, patting him on the shoulder. And even though he said no more, Elijah knew the words held a hidden meaning, and figured they were something along the lines of I’m not going to kill anyone.

“Dommie,” Billy said then, and maybe it was all in his head but the atmosphere in the car seemed to have become charged with that one word.

“Aye, Bill,” Dom said and it wasn’t a question, whenever they spoke this it never was, it had always been, and Elijah suspected would always remain, the way they asked each other if everything was alright.

“Are you mad at me?” Billy asked then, and this was so absurd, so unexpected, and so had the potential to receive an explosive answer that Elijah found himself fidgeting for a clove.

“Don’t do this, Billy, not tonight. Let’s us have one night, you and me, being mates again.”

“Well, Dom, forgive me, but I was under the impression that we still were mates up until you made it perfectly clear that we weren’t.” Dom slammed his hands down against the dash, swallowed, and turned around in his seat best he could to glare at Billy, getting into his personal space.

“I didn’t make that fucking decision Bill, you did, you knew what would happen and god fucking dammit don’t get me started, we are not fucking ruining Sean’s fucking plans.” Dom whirled back around, slamming so hard into his seat the car shook where it was stopped at a light. “Don’t fucking do this, Billy. Not tonight. You put on your happy face and I’ll put on mine and we can pretend because isn’t that what we’re fucking good at, Bill? And Elijah, you are not going to say a fucking thing to Sean about this, and he’ll wonder if we’re okay and it won’t matter because he won’t ask us, but we will fucking seem okay, got that Bill?” Dom took a shaky breath, sighing the word, “Fuck.”

He rubbed at his eyes and Elijah wondered briefly if it was a nervous habit he had developed recently due to stress, or if he was scratching away the beginnings of unwanted tears.

*~*~*

Elijah was amazed at how well dinner went. Dom and Billy carried on as usual, and it hurt, watching them, because he knew it wasn’t real, it was all an act, not just for themselves or for him or Sean but for everyone who happened to be watching because how could two of the closest, most genuine, best mates Hollywood had ever seen have such an explosive and destructive falling out where they had come to the point that being in the same room as one another was almost completely unbearable?

Elijah was not dramatic; he was one of the most down to earth, easy-going people on the planet, perhaps too laid back, sometimes. But as he watched Dom and Billy bid Sean goodnight, arms slung over each other’s shoulder and laughing until it brought them to tears, Elijah felt a crushing weight in his chest, and had to take several deep breaths to keep himself from crying.

The ride to where Billy was staying was fairly short, and very silent. Dom opted for no music, and sat in his seat, hands clasped in his lap, gaze fixed out the window. When they arrived at the hotel, Billy remained in the car for several moments, and Elijah could see from looking in the rearview mirror that Billy was looking at the back of Dom’s head.

“Dom,”

“Fuck off, Billy. Please.” Dom’s voice was not his own; it was quiet and broken and choked and when Elijah looked at him, Dom’s head was in his hand and his eyes were closed, but there was no mistaking the shimmering streaks down his cheeks.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Billy. At the New Zealand film thing,” Elijah said, turning to face his friend, “We can figure out when we’ll pick you up or what for the red carpet there. Goodnight,” and it was apparent that Billy should leave. So, he did.

*~*~*

“There better be a good after-party,” Dom said, dress shirt halfway unbuttoned and sleeves rolled up to his elbows as he leaned against the thin railing on Elijah’s balcony. His grip around the rail was loose but his fingers were beating against the rail to a rhythm within his head, and Elijah knew he was barely keeping himself from lighting up.

“They’ll be several, yeah?” Dom shrugged, leaning his head from side to side, stretching his neck. Definitely a nervous habit. “You going to sing tonight?”

“Fuck yes.”

“Billy may play.”

“I don’t give a fuck. He can do whatever the hell he wants. If I’m a bastard, blame it on the drink.” Elijah licked his lips, flicking the end of his clove several times in quick succession. “What?” Dom asked, because anyone who knew Elijah knew these actions meant he was seriously considering what he was going to say next, and because he was seriously considering it, it would somehow affect you.

“Billy’s your best mate, Dom,” he said slowly.

“Fuck that.”

“Allow me to finish, you wanker. The details of what went on aren’t entirely clear to me, I don’t think they’re even clear to you. Am I right?” Dom was sulking now, but he gave a nod and remained silent, allowing Elijah to continue. “Dude, I watched the commentaries the other night, both, and yeah I was bored—really, really, bored—so they passed the time but, Christ, have you seen them recently? You two are an absolute riot.”

“A team, a double act, a force,” Dom said, and there was no veiling the bitterness in his voice. Elijah allowed this interruption, noting the change in Dom. His eyes had clouded over, growing darker as they sometimes did, his arms were braced stiffly against the rail and his hands clenched so tightly around the railing Elijah was half-expecting to see bones pop through the smooth skin.

“Sblomie…” Dom shook his head.

“Sorry, go on.” Elijah wanted to tell him he needn’t apologize but Dom was staring at his shoes, obviously waiting for Elijah to go on.

“All I’m saying is you two could bring each other to tears of laughter within five minutes of being in the same room together. Now, it’s a fucking ordeal to get you into the same room for five minutes, and I’m not blaming you and I’m not blaming him, sometimes that’s the way it goes, but why? Why does it have to be this way with you two? What came between you that so devastated you? And don’t tell me Ali, because that is a load of shit.” Elijah didn’t give Dom the chance to answer, he apparently had been holding this rant back for quite a while. “What I don’t get is why the fuck you two don’t do everything in your power to get things back to the way they were. Fuck me and fuck Sean and fuck Orlando, don’t do it for us, do it for yourselves, for what you had. You miss it, Dom, don’t fucking deny it, and I mean obviously Billy is trying to do something, he tried to last night and whether you accept, that is not my place, but fuck it Dom, if I had half of what you and Billy had…” Elijah trailed off momentarily, “I’d want it back.”

“It’s not that simple, number one, and two, what the fuck are you talking about? Having half of what we had? You’re just as good mates as--”

“Dom, it’s okay. I’m not bitter and I’m not complaining. You all are my family. You and Billy always were the closest of us all and that’s fine, it happens.” Dom sighed.

“It’s so fucked up.”

“Regardless, we’ve got to be there in--” Elijah glanced at his wristwatch, “Shit, we’re fucking late! How the hell do we manage to be late every fucking time?” And together they went back inside, finished getting dressed, and headed out the door.

*~*~*

The limo ride was not exactly unpleasant. Sean kept picking up his mobile every fifteen seconds, Elijah spoke with Billy about the after-parties, and Dom allowed himself to zone out completely. When they arrived, Dom kept himself between Sean and Elijah, all four of them wearing smiles for the world to see, and occasionally Elijah would swing his arm around Dom or vice versa, or they would be in a group hug but Billy wouldn’t be on either side of Dom, and it was going to be okay.

Except Dom missed the days when it was Billy he was slinging an arm around, and it was Billy he was embracing, and it was Billy who he was caught on camera just looking at because he could, because Billy was a force to watch, because why would he want to watch anything else when Billy was around? Dom missed those days as he would miss Billy the day he died, because in a way, hadn’t he already?

He didn’t know it at the time, indeed you can’t really plan for these things, but when he went for Billy’s chin while Elijah and Sean were going on and on to Joan Rivers, and Billy jerked away, it would be discussed and analyzed throughout the internet over the course of the next week. Was it playful? Was it planned? Was it sincere? Was Billy mad at Dom? Was Dom being obnoxious? Was something wrong with this friendship that fans everywhere had considered was one of the most beautiful friendships ever? Were the speculations true, and they really had been lovers in the past, and now there was some falling out?

Quite frankly, Joan grated on Dom’s last nerve. She was everything in a woman he could not stand, and would not stand for if he ever took a woman for himself. So he was more than happy to let Elijah and Sean do the talking as they crowded around her microphone. Unfortunately, he ended up standing next to Billy, and it wasn’t bad, not really, except that whenever he was with Billy memories would hit him like fucking bricks and it was almost easy to pretend like everything was the way it used to be.

Losing himself in one of these particular memories as Joan droned on, he turned to Billy and smiled, catching Billy’s chin between his index finger and thumb and Billy jerked away as if he had been burned.

He chastised Dom, Dom didn’t know what was said, he was so taken aback by Billy’s action, but then he remembered himself and remembered where they were and being hit with reality hurt a lot more than fucking bricks. Dom played it off without hesitation, and that was easy, acting was something he could do, even if it did feel like jagged claws had wrapped themselves around his heart and were just trying to yank it through his chest.

*~*~*

He was in line right behind Billy as they filed into their seats, but Dom pointedly motioned for Sean to go first which, of course, he did. As the lights dimmed for the show to start, Dom felt a light, fleeting grip on his hand and looked just in time to see Elijah taking his hand away.

This really was supposed to be the easy part, he didn’t have to even look at Billy if he didn’t want to. However, every time clips for Return of the King came up, Dom immediately associated events with the scenes that were showing. Dom almost breaking a finger right before they filmed that scene. Billy spilling porridge all over himself because Dom had made him laugh so fucking hard right before that scene. Dom dropping to his knees and taking Billy into his mouth in the middle of filming that scene. Billy returning the favor after the scene was done.

Dom didn’t often cry if he could help it, not because it was considered girly, simply because he didn’t like the dreadful, empty, washed-out feeling crying left. So when these memories floated through his mind, he slowed his breathing and perhaps had to blink his eyes several times in succession once or twice, but other than that he remained composed. He wasn’t one to make a scene, not by crying in the middle of a fucking clip at any rate.

When they won Best Picture, Dom walked up with the rest, smiling because he was happy they had finally won the fucking award, but he suddenly felt as though every single person in the audience was watching him, not only watching him, they could see through him and this he did not like at all. The next day, when he would see the pictures, he’d feel slightly bad he looked so uncomfortable and stiff on stage when everyone else looked absolutely ecstatic, but he didn’t realize it at the time.

*~*~*

The after-party (parties?—he couldn’t remember) passed in a haze of light and color and him singing until his voice was hoarse and he was taking shots not because he wanted to feel the burning liquid trickle down his throat but because the small, shimmering glasses were within closest reach to ease his scratchy throat.

He vaguely remembered someone’s arm around him, helping him back into the limo and then again leading him (carrying him) up the stairs to his flat, and the entire time he assumed it was Elijah, until Elijah staggered, stammering thanks, out in front him, keys jangling in his hand as he unlocked their door.

As he passed through the doorframe, the mystery person still holding him up (but it wasn’t really a mystery now, was it?) had to shift positions and as a result warm breath ghosted across his neck and Dom sighed, leaning perhaps more than he should against Billy.

“Bill,” Dom murmured and how did his lips find Billy’s neck and why was Billy suddenly looming over him, green eyes sparkling brightly in the dark room?

“Dommie,” Billy whispered, but the tone was apologetic and Billy was moving up and away from him, and Dom closed his eyes. Several minutes later a glass of water was being passed into his hand and he hadn’t even realized he was thirsty but the moment the wetness touched his lips he gulped it down and then choked on it and he could hear Billy’s soft laughter as he rubbed his back soothingly and took the glass from Dom’s hands. “Salt water,” he explained. “For your throat.” Dom nodded and thanked him for the water, and again for supporting him into the limo and up the stairs. “You’re incredibly pissed.”

“In more ways than one, Bill. I’ve got a lot of rage.” Billy didn’t look very threatened, and Dom supposed he shouldn’t as he could barely hold himself upright. “Fuck Billy, what happened?”

“Do you want to have this conversation now, Dom? Do you really, right now, when you are more wasted than I have seen you in a long while?”

“It’s the only way you’ll get me without reservations or inhibitions. And I can’t hit you again. I’ll miss.” Dom held his hand out in front of him and it was shaking slightly. “I would miss,” he decided again, more firmly this time.

“Dom, I know you are hoping this will be a huge misunderstanding. It’s not.”

“Just fucking give me a reason, Bill.” Billy settled back against the soft, leather couch that was a favorite of Dom’s and sighed.

“I love Ali,” Billy said, and Dom nodded as though this was not news. “I met her, and I can have a family with her, and I do love her, Dom.”

“You were in love with me.” There was a pause.

“Aye, Dommie.”

“I’m still in love with you.”

“I know, Dom.”

“Can we ever get back what we had, before I fucked it all up?”

“You didn’t fuck it up. I’d not trade in my times with you for anything, not even to save my life. I would very much like to get back what we had. Dommie, I may love Ali, and I may marry her someday and I know that’s not exactly what you want to hear, but I will always love you.” Billy pressed a light kiss to Dom’s head and Dom instantly curled around him, resting his head against Billy’s chest. “Elijah told me you were about to climb on top of one of the tables, and when they told you not to you threatened to steal a microphone.”

“He called you, then.”

“He called me.”

“Sorry to disturb your evening,” and Dom sounded almost entirely sincere.

“Anytime, Dommie.” Billy felt wetness after a few moments and from the minute shaking of the figure in his arms, he knew Dom was crying. “Dom,”

“Can—just—let this be okay,” Dom said softly. Dom could feel Billy take a deep breath, as though he were steadying himself, readying himself to say something, perhaps to protest. “Bill.” And Billy looked down at Dom and planted another light kiss on his head and said,

“Aye, Dommie.”

*~*~*

When Dom moved to stretch, a sharp pain rain from the juncture between neck and shoulder all the way down his spine and he cried out softly, then swore, trying to get the kink out. He looked around the room, saw the empty glass on the table (not on a coaster, Elijah didn’t have any) and saw no Billy. Something tugged at his heart, but it wasn’t as painful as he thought it would be. Of course, it wasn’t surprising, either.

“He left a few hours ago,” Elijah said from the kitchen, where he stood over a frying pan.

“You’re making breakfast?” Elijah glared at him over his shoulder as Dom padded into the kitchen.

“It’s pancake mix. I can’t possibly fuck it up.” Dom made a noncommittal noise, hoisting himself up to sit on the counter.

“So,” Elijah said, but from the tone of his voice he had no intentions of continuing. Rather, it had been an invitation for Dom to start talking.

“So what?” Dom asked. Elijah looked exasperated. “Well obviously he left, didn’t he?”

“Dom, you knew he would.”

“I want to be mates again. I miss him.”

“I know you do.”

“I don’t know if I can be. Mates, I mean.” Elijah nodded, jiggling the frying pan to even the batter out.

“It’ll take time.”

“Spare me,” Dom said, but it wasn’t malicious. “Let’s go out tonight, yeah?” Elijah looked stunned and almost burned himself.

“You actually want to do something? Go out. Not mope around the house?” Dom glared.

“Listen, you fucker, I want to fucking go out tonight and it’s your responsibility to keep me from getting so fucking drunk. I have a bloody fucking painful headache I would not like to relive tomorrow morning.” As if to make this clear, Dom rummaged through the nearest draw and popped two Advil into his mouth, swallowing them dry. Elijah cringed.

“Fucking bizarre.” Dom grinned, ruffled Elijah’s hair, and made his way out to the balcony, lighting a Parliament once he got there. “He didn’t—you didn’t—there was no--”

“Spit it out, man,” Dom called through the open door. Elijah flushed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Did we fuck? We didn’t fuck, you cunt. Goddamn.”

“I was just—I mean—you’re in a—a good mood.” Dom gave a ‘so what?’ gesture and Elijah shrugged, still facing Dom. “It’s nice. Just wondering what brought it on. Suddenly. Out of the blue.” Elijah offered up more synonyms for suddenly but Dom waved them off, inhaling around his cigarette.

“I don’t know. I’ve, I don’t know, I’ve accepted it. I still feel confused as fuck, but I guess I’m starting to understand. Sort of.”

“Dude, yesterday you were as far from accepting anything as I’ve ever seen. How the fuck do you change your mind so quickly?” Dom blew out smoke, tilting his head to the side, considering Elijah.

“I don’t have a fucking clue.” Dom smoked his cigarette in silence then, Elijah watching him the entire time. “I’m the last person to waste my life away wishing for something that I can’t have.” Elijah nodded sagely. “I mean, I still love him—am still in love with him…” Dom trailed off, turning around and leaning against the railing, overlooking the street below.

“But, now, you are willing to move on? To start moving, I mean.” Dom glanced to his left and found Elijah staring out across the city next to him.

“Start moving, yeah.” There was a comfortable silence between them. “It still fucking hurts.” Elijah patted Dom on the back and squeezed his shoulder.

“It does that sometimes.” Dom nodded.

“Yeah.” Something occurred to Dom, then. “Franka left you.” Elijah nodded, an odd grin on his face.

“Franka left me,” he repeated.

“It hurt?” Elijah nodded.

“It does that sometimes,” he said again, shrugging. “It’ll pass. You won’t want it to for a while, but it will, and then you will be okay again, and someday you’ll be whole again. You just have to trust that.” Dom nodded, finishing his cigarette and smashing it into the plastic ashtray Elijah really needed to empty out. They stood next to each other for several more minutes, just enjoying each other’s company, before Elijah swore under his breath and raced back into the house, Dom’s laughter following.

“You fucked up breakfast, didn’t you?”