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[cera-lari.livejournal.com]

Title: The Wind (13/18)

Author: cera_lari

Dedication: To my friend ‘Cassie!’ Love ya!

Pairing: Billy/Dom, or else I wouldn’t be posting here, would I?

Rating: PG

Warnings: Mild language, angst.

Thanks: Much thanks tonessa_felagund  for being the best beta in the world! <3 ya!

Disclaimer: This is fiction for the fans, thus the name ‘fan-fiction.’ It is not real.

Feedback: If you will be kind enough to give me some, yes. It helps me get better.

Summary: It never was...but will it be?

Notes: hope you like it. Oh, yes, and the title will come into play later. I know it is odd, but so am I, so I suggest...getting used to it. :-)

 

 

 

Dominic stared out the window of his apartment in L.A., watching the cars drive by. It was three in the afternoon, but he didn’t care about time anymore. He was still in his pajamas and had yet to eat anything. But that was basically how his life rolled by now. After all, it seemed as though there was nothing worth living for.

Not since Billy had announced that he was engaged to Allie. 

Dom closed his eyes and took several deep, cleansing breaths, wishing that the pain inside of him would disappear. He remembered the last time he had felt like this. Back then he had foolishly slit his wrists in hope to chase the pain away. All that had done was cause everyone around him to feel pain, though. It was but a permanent solution to at temporary problem.

He shifted in the chair he was sitting in, and his foot caught on one of the piles of clothes that was lying on his floor. He idly thought that maybe he should clean up. But he didn’t have the energy, it seemed. All he could do was sit and watch the cars go by, hoping against all hope that maybe Billy would be in one of them, coming to tell him that he was wrong, that he wasn’t going to marry Allie. That Billy was coming to hold him and assure him that everything would be alright.

But that never happened. Billy never came. He had stopped calling, too.

It seemed like Billy didn’t care about Dom anymore. Not for Dom or for his well-being. Had Billy been here, he would have went around the house in a flourish of activity, cleaning the dirty house in a frenzy. But Billy didn’t care anymore.

His kitchen was a mess, with dishes piled in the sink, gathering dust. The mess on them was getting hard, and soon it’d be hard to get them back to their sparkling clean state. The floor needed sweeping, and table needed to be washed.

His living room was full of bags from chips and other junk food that he had ate to try to forget. Also, beer bottles were spewed everywhere that showed his attempts to get drunk. The carpet needed cleaning, and the couch was a sticky mess. The remote was getting too gross to touch.

And that was just some of the rooms that he spent his time in when he could actually drag himself out of his room.

His room, though. That was going to be quite a project to clean up if he ever got around to it. Clothes were everywhere, with magazines, newspapers, and random letters spilled all over the floor. His bed was basically torn, and he found it was getting harder and harder to sleep in it. His alarm clock had long since been thrown against the far wall, where it lay in a pile of wires. He wasn’t sure if it’d work anymore. The floor didn’t seem to be visible anywhere, and he knew that under his bed hid a foul mess. His garbage can was overflowing onto the floor, proving that he rarely moved. There were darts in the wall beside the door, where he had recently posted a picture of Billy and had shot darts at it in an attempt to relieve his anger at his so-called best mate. One happened to land right in between those deep green eyes. Alcohol bottles were once again spewed all over.

Alcohol didn’t do him any good now. It seemed no matter how much he drank, he was still stone-cold sober. He just couldn’t chase away reality. He couldn’t hid from it. But he couldn’t stand up to it right now, either. He just didn’t have the strength or the will.

Dom stirred in his seat once again, and placed his chin in the palm of his hand, watching the cars zoom by. He saw an accident almost happen, and nonchalantly thought that people needed to be more careful while driving. Not that it mattered to him, since he wouldn’t be driving any time soon.

Billy had betrayed him. Billy had said that he’d never leave Dom, and that he wasn’t planning to marry Allie just for that reason. Billy had lied, and now Dom was alone again. And he couldn’t stand it.

He was getting wrapped up in his self-pitying thoughts when the front door opened slowly. He didn’t notice it, and didn’t even care if anyone was in the house. If a robber came in, let him be. Nothing worse stealing anymore, anyway.

Only when the a shadow fell across the room and someone exclaimed a syllable of surprise did he realise that he had a visitor. He looked up to see Aimee, who was looking at him with a mixture of pity, anger, and desperation.

He sighed; of all the people to see him like this, she was the last one he wanted to do so. She acted tough, but on the inside she cared too much for her own good. He didn’t want to hurt her. He knew that keeping himself in this state would make her more worried than she already had been.

She shook her head. "Dominic, how could you let yourself fall apart like this?" Her voice quivered; it seemed to have a hint of anger in it.

He quailed, and burst out in tears. Her eyes widened in surprise, and she maneuvered her way around the room to hug him silently. "I didn’t mean it like that, Dom. I am sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you."

He pulled away from her, shrill laugh erupting from his lips. "You, hurt me? You did nothing of the sort. It’s Billy that hurt me. You couldn’t ever hurt me."

She backed away, a shocked at how bitter his voice sounded. After a moment she recovered and said in a commanding sort of voice, "Now see here, Dominic Monaghan. I will not let you waste away if it is the last thing I do. I am going to clean up this house, and you are going to go for a walk. God knows both need it. No," she stated firmly when he opened his mouth to protest. "You are NOT going to object. You are going to do this. It is the only way to bring you back from the dark abyss you seem to have fallen into."

With that she opened his drawers and threw some clean clothes at him. "Dress," she said, and left his room, closing the door.

He watched her leave in silence, then put his clothes on. There was no use protesting with her; he had learned long ago that when she told you to do something, it was best to do it. After looking longingly out the window for a couple more seconds, he meandered out to the kitchen where she was busily scrubbing at the dishes in the sink.

"Good," she said, giving a once-over. "Now get outside and go for a walk. It’ll do you good."

He nodded and obediently walked out the door. Time to go for that all-healing walk. He took a deep breath, and plunged into the street.

~~~~~

"My god, what has he done for the last week? Completely ignore this whole house?" Aimee muttered under her breath as she surveyed the living room in immense distaste. It seemed that Dom had indeed forgot how to live without Billy. Aimee made up her mind to come over at least once every three days to make sure he was still able to find his way out of his collection of junk.

She reached out to grab the remote, planning to watch some television while doing the cleaning, but winced when she saw how gross the remote was. Having a second thought, she retreated and turned on the TV. the old fashioned way. After flipping through some channels to try to find something good, she stopped on a promising-looking movie called "Selena." She remembered having watched part of it, and was hoping to get to finish it now.

She grabbed the nearest trash bag and started throwing the empty bags into it. She decided that he must have had quite an appetite, for the whole floor seemed covered in bags. After she finished that task, she went to work collecting all of the beer bottles. With each one she picked up, she shook her head sadly. He really shouldn’t drink like this. It’s bad for his health. Too bad he didn’t seemed concerned about himself anymore.

She moved on to the couch, and grimaced as she found more and more old and sticky candy in it. Eventually she managed to get the couch back to looking like it was semi-new, and she hoped that maybe it would actually stay that way. She stood up, brushing off her jeans, hoping that she was done. Then her eye caught the gross remote again.

No way was she going to clean THAT. She was just going to have to buy a new one. She made a memo to herself to buy one right after she cleaned his room.

She stepped back into it, and the first thought she had was to do laundry. When she had opened his drawer to get him clothes, it had almost been empty. The man needed to get hold of himself if he wanted to live. She shook her head and slowly gathered up the clothes, planning what to do with the rest of the room. Maybe, once he got back, he’d be willing to help keep this house clean for at least a little while.

She finally finished the project of cleaning the house, and looked at the clock. Wow, time flies, for it had been nearly four hours. She walked over to the window and looked out. All she could see was white. She bit her lip, wondering why Dom wasn’t back yet. Maybe I shouldn’t have sent him out in this weather, she thought. Maybe I should have let him mope for a while longer.

She waited a half hour to see if he’d come home, her thoughts getting more and more worried as each minute passed. Finally, she couldn’t take it anymore. She put on her coat, and ventured out of the house to find Dominic.

~~~

Dom stepped onto the sidewalk, and took a breath of the fresh air. He gingerly took a step forward, then another, and another. It felt the same. It smelt the same. But it wasn’t the same. He wasn’t happy for once.

After five minutes of walking, he started to jog, then to run. It was cold outside, and it was starting to snow. The delicate white flakes surrounded him, but he kept on running.

He was running from everything. Running to get away from the pain, the hurt. Running to get away from his life.

He ran and ran, not caring as the storm slowly built up to a blizzard around him. The snow drifts got deeper and deeper, but he kept on running, plowing through them.

It seemed like he had nowhere to go, no place to hide. And he didn’t want to return to the familiarity of his house, now clean. Even though it had been Aimee who had cleaned it, it would remind him of Billy’s cleanliness. He couldn’t handle it.

He kept running, taking random turns and not caring where he ended up. Finally, he pushed himself too far and fell to the ground, his breathing shallow and pained. He closed his eyes, tears running down his cheeks in streaks. He couldn’t take it anymore. He just couldn’t.

He had run so hard to get away from his life that he had pushed himself to the limit. His knee had popped out, and he couldn’t get up.

Now he was stuck in a winter wonderland, and it seemed like no one was going to find him.