One, Part 2/4

[perfect-oasis.livejournal.com]

Title: One, Part 2/4
Author: The Phantom Writer silentnumbsmoke
Pairing: BB/DM
Pairing: PG-13
Feedback: Ahh, feedback. "If music be the food of love, play on!" ~ Shakespeare "If feedback be the food of love, comment!" ~ Me! (Wow... rewording Shakespeare... I must be desperate! ;) )
Disclaimer: This isn't real. Nope, not so much.
Notes: All right, you can first the first part here.

Okers... So, yesh. Tomorrow, I'm leaving to travel in England and Wales... I return March 27th, and, my apologies, but... I won't have access for a computer, so the next part will be posted on March 28th... "...if my lazy-assed beta gets anything done between then and now." <-- so says my beta, red_moon_rising! She's great. :)
So, once again, I'm sorry, loves, but... yeah.



Part II

It’s been one day since Dom disappeared. One day. 24 hours. 360 minutes, and I’m a nervous wreck. I throw my phone down onto the sofa in frustration and scowl as Elijah and Orlando exchange knowing looks. What the fuck do they know? And what the fuck do the bloody police know? What a fucking stupid rule, making people wait 24 hours before letting them file a missing persons report… Dom could be halfway across the world by now. I glance out the window… Or stuck in any of the buildings around me. I glare at the houses; I never did trust any of our neighbors…

The fucking police don’t seem to give a damn… they think that Dom just wants some time alone, time away from his fans and his celebrity status. That’s not true. I know Dom, and he wouldn’t do something like that… he usually calls if he’s going to be even ten minutes late coming home from an art show or something. But the police were right on one point: as much as Dom loves attention, he and I have both expressed the need to get away from everything for a bit. But together. Always together, just the two of us. Dom wouldn’t go alone, especially not without telling me.

I begin pacing, letting out a deep breath and wringing my hands, remembering the police chief’s words. “We’ll send a report out to all hospitals within a hundred mile radius, and we’ll call you once we’ve gotten responses.” Dom isn’t the most speed-abiding driver (he grew up on the Autobahn, but fuck’s sake!), but he isn’t reckless either, at least not compared to those LA drivers he’s always griping about.

Biting my lip, I head for my phone, but Orlando reaches it first, breaking through my wall of nerves and anxiety. “Don’t, Billy.” I glare. “You know he won’t pick up. You tried at least six times last night, with only a minute break between each one. You let it ring at least ten times every time, until, finally, it told you that his cell wasn’t available any longer,” he reminds me, his voice calm, his eyes compassionate.

“I know that,” I snap, collapsing onto the sofa. Immediately, a cup of tea is pushed into my shaking hands. A weak smile comes to my lips and I look up into Elijah’s bright, earnest eyes.

God, I miss Dom’s eyes…

I lower my head, my tears mixing with the peppermint tea.