If I Die (part 8 )

[dani-grl4.livejournal.com]

Title: If I Die (Part 8)
Author:dani_grl4
Pairing: Dom/Billy
Rating: R
Disclaimer: So glad this isn’t true.
Feedback: Makes the world go ‘round and is terribly appreciated.
Warning: Lots of angst. However, despite the title, there is no death.
Summary: Billy’s still missing and his situation is even more desperate. Dom’s POV, mostly.
A/N: Lots of love to canciona, who makes each chapter much better than before and who practically had to beat this chapter out of me.

Prologue, Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7



Chapter 8

“Dom, you need to stay out here with Elijah.”

Dom peers over Detective McNamara’s shoulder. “No, I want to see what’s going on.”

“You gotta let them do their jobs. Why don’t you guys go grab some coffee and sit in my office so you can have some privacy, okay?” It is a statement and not a question, and it comes from a quick survey of the sympathetic stares directed at them by nearly everyone in the station. They know better, through experience, than to hope for a happy ending in an abduction case gone on this long.

Dom reluctantly starts to go over to where Elijah is sat on a hard, wooden bench out of the way, but turns back to the detective instead. “They will be able to trace the call, right? Please don’t bullshit me. I need to know.”

“Dom, at this point they’re still working like hell to trace that call. I’m going in there now and I swear, I’ll come find you as soon as I know anything.”

Dom nods reluctantly, and turns toward Elijah, knowing he has no real choice. “Want some coffee?”

“No. How are you holding up, Dom?”

The station seems eerily silent to Dom as he glances around. Some people are staring at him; others he suspects are straining to listen to their conversation. It occurs to him, though, that everything around him sounds silent because he can practically hear his heart beating. There’s a rushing in his ears that reminds him of being underwater.

“C’mon, Lij. Let’s go sit in the office.”

Elijah obeys and follows Dom into Detective McNamara’s office. He’s spent many hours here with him in the immediate weeks following Billy’s kidnapping. Each day had ended with anguish, no new leads, and Dom in an inconsolable state.

He looks at his friend, now sat in a chair in the corner of the messy office, his head in his hands. Clutter, files, and paper are everywhere, and if Elijah had looked closely he would have seen that the majority of it are notes and research dedicated to finding Billy. Something about Billy’s disappearance keeps Detective McNamara up nights as well.

“Are you okay? I'm sorry, I know that's a stupid question.”

Dom looks up and gestures at the chair across from him. “Stop apologising, mate.”

“What can I do?”

Dom shakes his head. “Nothing.” Dom is silent for several agonising minutes. Just when Elijah thinks the silence will kill him, he speaks again. “Part of me wants you to say that Billy is alright, we’ll find him soon, and he’ll be back in my arms before tonight is over.” Dom stops for a pause, frowning, before he continues, “But there’s a part of me that’s too scared to believe that. I can’t even describe it-”

“I know, Dom.”

Dom looks up at the ceiling, fighting the tears that he knows will win, each and every time. “Do you, Lij? He is my whole world. After five years, I still get butterflies in my stomach when I know he’s about to come home. I still smile each time he walks into a room, and I still, every day he’s been gone, smell him and feel him next to me when I sleep.”

Dom puts his hands over his face again. He’s shattered, physically and emotionally. Yet he can’t stand just sitting here, waiting for the FBI to do something. He gets up and starts pacing, not talking to Elijah anymore, but picking up random things, inspecting them, placing them back down again.

Elijah notices how truly awful Dom looks. His clothes just hang off of his body and his movements are slow, like an old man. And old, terminally ill man.

In a way he is terminal, isn’t he? a voice asks him.

Not as long as I can do something, Elijah rebels against his own intrusive thoughts.

“Should I bother trying to get you to eat something?”

Dom raises an eyebrow at him. “Do you want me to throw up on you?”

“I guess not.”

“No, I guess not.” Dom resumes his pacing.

Detective McNamara comes in, loud enough to make Dom jump and he practically bounds towards the detective with new-found energy.

“Anything?”

“Not yet, I’m afraid.”

“I don’t understand what’s taking so long,” he says - practically pleads.

“Dom, I’m going to be honest with you. They’re still trying to trace it but-”

Dom sits down without realising it, feeling very nauseous all of a sudden. “What?”

“Billy wasn’t connected very long to your cell. There’s a chance they won’t be able to trace the number. I’m not saying it’s hopeless, I just want you to know it might not be as simple as we’d all like.”

Dom nods, but doesn’t really understand. The words Detective McNamara said made sense. They told him in the beginning that tracing private calls made to mobile phones can be tricky if the call is short. What he cannot comprehend at this moment is how cruel life is.

“Dom? Are you listening? Here, I brought you guys something to eat.” He turns his attention from Dom, who hasn’t heard a word since ‘I’m not saying it’s hopeless’ because, really, what else could it be? It isn’t promising. Billy isn’t walking towards him with that gorgeous smile of his, perfect as the last time Dom saw him. 'Hopeless' does indeed describe the situation, Dom thinks, as he fights to suppress another wave of nausea.

“Make sure he eats something, for God’s sake. I’ll be back soon.” Elijah nods and places the bag of food on the desk, not the slightest bit hungry himself.

“Dommie? Did you hear what he said? It’s still possible to trace the call.” Elijah tries to sound confident but really, he couldn’t ignore the dark look that Detective McNamara gave him, ephemeral as it was.

He doesn’t want to argue with Elijah but he’s so sick of meaningless words of comfort.

“He wanted to keep talking to me. Something – no, someone – stopped him. If they found out he made a phone call they could have done anything to him or taken him anywhere by now. He could be gone by the time they find out where he even is, if they find where he is.”

Dom is physically shaking. Elijah reaches out, automatically, to hold and comfort him, but Dom winces as he moves away and shakes his head slightly. He’s not surprised – Dom’s reacted this way to offers of physical closeness before, as though they would hurt him more somehow. Elijah hates these times because he feels like such a useless friend.

He stares at Dom relentlessly, willing his friend to let him help. But Dom won’t, or can’t, meet his gaze as he finally speaks again, so softly Elijah isn’t sure he’s hearing right.

“The last time we stayed in Glasgow we visited his parents’ graves, you know. It was so heartbreaking and touching at the same time, Lij. He introduced me to them, asked them to watch over me. Told me he wanted to be buried with them. I want that too.”

“Dom, we can't start thinking about burying Billy-”

He looks up, finally meeting Elijah’s eyes, though not really seeing for the tears in his own. Slowly he shakes his head, trying to resolve the misunderstanding. “No. I want that for me, too. To be buried there, with Billy.”

Elijah’s not generally a frightening person, nor could his voice ever be described as menacing, even when he tries to be. It almost always ends up on the hilariously funny side of the spectrum. But Dom looks well and truly fearful at the intense tone of his mate’s voice when he speaks to him now.

“Dom, listen to what I’m about to say, and listen very carefully. You better cut this shit out about you dying. If you so much as give yourself a paper cut, or take more Tylenol in one day than the box says you should, I will have your ass locked up so fast, you won’t know what hit you.” Elijah’s eyes are fiercely locked into Dom’s, who can’t quite look away, as much as he wants to. “Second of all, how dare you give up on Billy, now? He needs you to hold your shit together, and if you really love him like you say you do, you will stop all this bullshit talk about hurting yourself, do you understand what I’m saying to you? I’m not going to be the one to answer to Billy when he asks why the fuck we all stood by and watched you basically kill yourself. And make no mistake, Dom, he will ask. So pull it together, because you’re going to have to be strong for him when he comes home.”

Dom has no response for this, although he feels a small pang of guilt. “I’m going to see what’s going on,” he mumbles and walks out of the office. He hears Elijah let out a loud sigh and mutter something under his breath before walking back to the room where Detective McNamara, along with several FBI agents and half the police force in L.A., appear to be working.

Detective McNamara puts his hand on Dom’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Dom. No progress.”

“But the more time that goes by- ”

He decides he has to be honest with Dom, despite the frightening look of torture on his face that he’s likely to make worse right now with his words. “The call was short, and it’s not probable that they will be able to trace it. We’re hoping Billy will be able to call back.”

Elijah is by Dom’s side now, his new full-time position, feeling horrible for him and for the things he’s just said. Not only are they no closer to finding him, but the phone call may have actually put Billy in even more danger.

The realisation that Billy probably risked his life to call him, not even the police, hits Dom. What if Billy knew he was going to die? So many times he’s finished Billy’s last sentence in his head.

“I don’t kno-”

I don’t know if I will see you again? I don’t know how much time I have left? What, Billy, what did you want to tell me?

Dom is aware that both Elijah and Detective McNamara are staring at him. He suspects he may have been speaking, and not thinking those things.

“I’d better call Margaret then,” he says, tonelessly.

“Dom, I can take both you and Elijah home and then call you with any news from here. Or you can stay, it’s up to you. There’s still a chance-”

But Detective McNamara doesn’t finish his sentence because the look on Dom’s face each time he tries to inspire hope is heart-wrenching. So he stops, to be kind.

Dom looks from the detective to the agents and other officials in the room. They’re not working as feverishly as before, he observes. Was it really possible that only an hour or so ago he’d thought they were well on their way to finding Billy?

I don’t want to ring Margaret. I don’t want to destroy her world, again, like mine’s just been.

So Dom just stands there, frozen in time, thankful that no one is making him move just yet. He doesn’t feel Elijah’s hand on his back, doesn’t know that Elijah isn’t just trying to comfort him, but is actually holding him up for the most part. His body feels numb again.

He wishes for the second time in the past couple of months for an outlet for his pain that’s purely physical. “And fuck you, Elijah, I would do it again and again until Billy forgives me for letting him die alone, or until I die, whichever came first. You’ve no fucking idea,” he thinks. He’s confident he hasn’t said this out loud because Elijah isn’t freaking out, but is still by his side, quiet.

Dom pushes these thoughts aside and tries to contemplate the words he has to say to Margaret when he hears a familiar ring tone. He doesn’t notice anyone frantically gesturing him towards his phone as he pushes his way completely in the room and picks it up off the table.

“Billy?!”

“Dommie-” Dom nods a signal to everyone.

“Keep him on the phone,” an agent mouths at him.

“Bill, where are you?”

Silence.

“Billy? Answer me! Where are you, love?”

“Dom…couldn’t remember the bloody emergency number here. What’s the number to 999 again?”

“It’s 911 here, Bill,” Dom says slowly. Something is very wrong with the way Billy is speaking to him. He shakes his head at Elijah who’s practically on top of him, giving him an anxious look.

“I’m with the police right now. Billy, do you know where you are?”

Silence.

“Bill!” He turns to Detective McNamara. “He’s not talking,” Dom practically pleads.

Detective McNamara looks over at an FBI agent who nods at him.

“The line’s still connected, Dom. Keep talking.”

Dom swallows hard and concentrates on the background noise on the phone, trying to figure out what’s going on. There’s nothing except a distant ragged breathing he hopes, and yet doesn’t, is Billy’s. It sounds laboured and faint.

“Billy, please talk to me.”

“So glad I dialled you before, Dommie. Couldn't remember your number now.”

“Why, Billy? What's happened?”

Silence.

“Billy can you hear me? The police are tracing this call and we’re going to find you, okay? Just stay on the phone-”

He vaguely hears one of the agents say something about a contact and address. Detective McNamara nods at him. “We’ve got it, Dom.”

“Billy, the police have traced where you’re calling from, love. Just hold on-”

“Dom, I love you, do you know?”

Dom’s tears stream down his face uncontrollably now. “I do. I love you too, so much Billy. We’re going to bring you home soon, I promise.”

“Hurts so bad.”

Billy’s words hit him like a punch to his stomach. Immediately Elijah knows something is wrong by Dom’s expression. He signals to the detective, who is getting ready to leave with the rest of the police and FBI.

Dom can’t keep the sob out of his voice. He knew Billy sounded so wrong, and this is his worst fear. “Where, Billy? Where does it hurt?” Detective McNamara says something about paramedics to someone but he’s too intent on listening to Billy.

“Dunno, Dommie. So dark. ’M cold.”

“It’s going to be okay, Billy. Listen to me, you have to hold on!” He’s practically screaming down the phone at Billy, afraid that he will lose consciousness. “Where are you hurting?”

Silence.

“Billy?”

“Dom, please hurry up.” Dom can hear the tears in Billy’s voice.

Dom feels desperate and so useless to him now. “Keep talking to me, love. Please? Bill?”

Several minutes of silence pass with Dom listening intently for Billy’s breathing, which still sounds uneven.

Detective McNamara stays by Dom’s side until he looks at him.

“He’s not talking. I can hear him breathing, but he sounds awful.”

Detective McNamara nods. “The FBI are on their way, Dom. I have to go too.”

“I’m coming with you,” Dom says, still pressing the phone to his ear.

“No, Dom, you can’t. It’s too dangerous, and we have no idea what to expect when we get there. You stay right here and someone will tell you what’s going on. An ambulance will be waiting at the scene. Just in case.” He pats Dom on the back before barking orders at some people standing around waiting, who also leave.

Dom’s emotions finally overwhelm him and he falls to his knees, still trying to get Billy’s attention. Luckily for him, Elijah is there to brace most of the impact from his fall.

He speaks louder into the phone once more. “Bill, are you alone? Can you hear me?”

“Think I’m bleeding, Dommie.”

Dom closes his eyes but a sob escapes that he can’t contain. “Where are you bleeding, love?” Elijah’s eyes widen with concern at the question Dom’s just asked.

“'M gonna close my eyes for a little bit. I love you, but I’m so sleepy. See you soon, love.”

“Billy, no! No, don’t go! Billy!” Dom cries. He listens to the complete silence on the other end, no longer mingling with Billy’s faint breathing.

“Dom, what is it?” Elijah’s eyes are full of tears.

But Dom can’t answer and before Elijah can ask again, Dom’s leaned over, forehead to the ground, retching.