monaboyd | (no subject)

Title: Broken Things

Pairing: Well.... It’s actually kind of difficult. Um. Well. It starts out as a Domlijah, and there is no true Monaboyd, but Dom is pining for the relationship with Billy he turned down. Yeah. I think that explains it. Jeezus, just read it and figure it out yourself!

Rating: PG, if even that. And defiantly NOT light or fluffy. It’s angsty. Probably so thick you could cut and serve it. Really, I do need to learn to write happy stuff.

Disclaimer: This is not true. They have their own lives, and I’m sure that this is nothing like what happens to them.

Summary: Dominic is looking back, regretting the past. Wishing he were with Billy.

Feedback: I needs it. I wants it. Gimme! If you don’t, I will surely curl up and die in a fetal position, for I am addicted to it like a kiwi on heroin. Let me live, please!

Warning: Elijah is portrayed VERY badly. Very negatively. Forgive me, please. To the best of my knowledge, he’s not like this. Don’t be angry with me for it.

Notes: Bold Italics indicate song written by me! Yay! *claps* Title is *fake trumpet noise* Broken Things. Yes, I know it says in here that Dom wrote it, but he didn’t. I DID. I claim all rights to this song. *gathers them up* Meep! Oh, and this has nothiing to do with my TDAT fic. Just so you know.

I was always told that I was strong. I would laugh and reply, "Or so it seems."

The offending person would then laugh with me for a while, before turning serious and saying, "No, Dominic, it’s true. You are strong. I wish I had your physical strength; no one would ever stand in my way. You do realise that you are so very strong for your size?"

I’d simply nod, letting them continue on their spiel about me and my supposed ‘strength.’

"And you are so strong emotionally; I never see you cry. It seems like nothing can get to you. You are always happy, cheerful, joking. I wish I were that strong."

I’d shake my head, telling them they are stronger than they think. And not to believe everything they see. Not to judge every book by its cover.

But they never listened. They continued to say I was strong. Everyone thought I was. How wrong they were.

I never was that strong. At least, not emotionally. Why would I have a journal if I were strong? Strong men don’t need to write it all down. Strong men don’t need reassurance on the tiniest things. Strong men don’t cry.

Sure, when I get out in front of people, I always seem happy. But can’t they see all of it is a facade brought on by the fear of rejection? I don’t want to seem like a sniveling wimp, so I pretend it doesn’t hurt. I pretend nothing hurts.

The almighty Dominic Monaghan. So strong. So brave. So smart.

So...useless.

I learned early on that I couldn’t talk to most people about my true feelings. I was always told that I was being a drama king, taking things way out of proportion. And I learned that I couldn’t keep it all inside, either. I was liable to explode and cause everyone around me to feel awkward. So I began keeping a journal. There, no one would tell me I was being over-dramatic, and I didn’t have to keep my feelings bottled up, either. It was wonderful.

But it led people to believe that I was strong.

There was one person who knew that wasn’t true, though.

There was a time when you wanted me

You knew I was not as strong as I seemed. You knew that without that journal, I would’ve gone insane. And you allowed me, no, forced me at the beginning to tell you my feelings.

You never said I was a drama king. You always held me when I needed it, told me what I wanted to hear.

I loved you.

There was another rumour that circulated about me. I was supposed to be smart, one of the smartest people in the LOTR cast. Sure, I could do complicated math in my head. Sure, I could correct someone’s essay like no other. I could do all those things. But there was one thing I lacked.

But I turned you down so carelessly

The ability to see through lies, deceit. The strength to walk away before it was too late.

I remember the first day I arrived at the filming site. Peter had thrown a party so that we could all get to know each other. I had gotten horribly drunk, probably drunker than I had ever been. But that wasn’t what caused me to remember the night. No, that definitely wasn’t it. In fact, it’s a miracle I do remember it because I was so drunk.

But it’s hard to forget those piercing blue eyes that cleared away all the fog.

The owner of those eyes had walked up to me straight away, grabbing my hand and saying, "Hello, I’m Elijah. The guy who’s playing Frodo. And I take it that you are Dominic?"

I had stared at him, marveling at how perfect his face was. It was so pale, like white porcelain, and it looked as though angels had carved it. His eyes were so bright, so beautiful... I was quickly pulled into an abyss that I could not crawl out of.

I was in love with him, and I hadn’t even known him for five whole minutes.

I had finally been able to look away from his eyes. "Yeah, that’s me. But please, call me Dom."

"And call me Lij."

See, I had someone else when you asked

We had spent the rest of the night drunk as hell, laughing and dancing and flirting like no one else. But I believe had I not met Elijah right then, I probably would’ve ended up with you.

The first day into filming, Peter discovered that I hadn’t met the person I’d be spending most of my time with.

"Dominic, come over here. There’s someone you have to meet. I’m actually surprised that you didn’t meet him last night. But you need to know him in order for this film to work." Peter had walked me over to someone was standing, his back facing us. Peter tapped that someone on the shoulder, and when he turned around, I had been frozen solid again, like the night before.

That person was you.

You, with your beautiful green eyes. You, with your perfect lips. You, the epitome of love. You, in your hobbit outfit. I had seen you in the trailer this morning, but had been too sleepy to care. I do remember, though, that in the trailer you had tried to introduce yourself, but Lij had interrupted. He had started talking to me, and you seemed to get the hint.

But it turns out he was wearing a mask

So this was the first time I actually talked to you.

"Dominic, this is Billy, who’s playing Pippin. Billy, meet Dom, who’s playing Merry. Since you two get to be the troublemakers of the film, I thought I should let you get to know each other for a while. You have five minutes. Go." Peter had then walked away, shouting something at the cameramen. You had looked at me, and we both burst out laughing. Five minutes to get to know each other. Well, weren’t we lucky?

We had clicked right away. We were like Yin and Yang; compliments to each other. You were what I wanted to be, and I seemed to be what you wanted to be. It worked.

It wasn’t long before we became best mates, much to a certain someone’s dismay. He had jumped on his chance before he had lost it, and soon I had a boyfriend. It was a secret; no one was to know. But that was okay. We were in love.

Well, one day you had decided you wanted more in a relationship with me. You loved me. You didn’t know that I was dating Lij, though. Had you, you probably would’ve kept your mouth shut.

So I had to turn you down. Had I known how it’d turn out, I wouldn’t’ve. I would’ve broken up with him straight away, and ran into your arms. But no. I didn’t.

I was too stupid to see what he really was.

He’s not as wonderful as he seemed

Filming was over, and, finally, so were the awards shows. Lij and I had been separated for a while, so you and I went everywhere together. This led to rumours, rumours that we were "together." Rumours of Monaboyd.

Naturally, this enraged my lover.

When I went back to him, he was angry. Frustrated. Irate. He yelled at me, bruised me. Asked me what it was about. I told him that it was simply rumours, nothing had happened. That the fans were just having their bit of fun. He didn’t believe me.

From then on, our relationship went downhill. He beat me, he hurt me, he put me down. It hurt. I hurt.

All my happiness he did glean

Before I knew it, I was depressed. It seemed I could never be happy again. The bruises tried to show, but I wore long-sleeve shirts and pants all year round to cover them. On my face, I simply went farther and applied light makeup to hide them. After all, I already wore eyeliner; what difference would a little more make?

I should’ve left then. Before it got too bad for me to handle.

But no. I was weak. I couldn’t leave him.

Soon, we weren’t making love anymore. He was fucking me, raping me. It became more and more painful as time went on. I often ended up with bruises. It hurt so badly.

I began to wish that I had never met him. That I had never been in Lord of the Rings, albeit it was the best experience I’d ever had.

I began to wish I was with you.

Now I wish I hadn’t thrown you away

Maybe you would’ve given me the strength to walk away, but it was too late for that. After all, you couldn’t wait around me for all your life, could you? You had to move on. Sure, your heart had been broken, and sure, you were still in love with me, but what was the use of sitting around, pining?

Then you met her. Ali. You fell in love again. And this time, the person you loved was single. It worked. It seemed as though everything was okay again.

For you, it was.

For me, it just kept getting worse.

I needed someone there to help me through what happened, someone to give me support. But when the time came that I really needed you, I was too scared to ask. You had a wonderful life, a possible family in front of you. I didn’t want to ruin it for you. Not for me.

Especially since I need you today...

During that time, I would sit around and wonder about how it could’ve been had I not turned you down. I’d daydream, wish, think about you nonstop. I wanted you so badly, but I couldn’t leave him. Not yet. I was still in love with him.

How foolish I was. How naive. How...me.

I had a chance at a good life with you

But I turned it down; I was such a fool

Even when he pushed me down stairs. Even when he shoved me to the ground and kicked me repeatedly. Even when he stabbed me because he though I had cheated on him when I hadn’t. Even when I ended up in the hospital because I had slit my wrists because he had told me I should die.

I still couldn’t leave.

I began to contemplate asking you to leave her, to come get me, to rescue me. But I wondered if you still would want me. After all, my body was now riddled with cuts and bruises. And I was emotionally wounded.

Why would you want me now?

Is it too late to ask for you to take me?

Does it matter that I’m not as new as I seem?

I wrote a song about my stupidity. I wrote it because he took my journal. He read it. He tore it apart, threw it in the fire. He went crazy when he read my thoughts about you, and how I was thinking about leaving him for you. How I wished I had done that earlier. How I did love you.

He threatened to kill me, to shoot me, but didn’t go through with it. He was angry, yes, but also hurt. He knew he was the cause of my feelings, but he didn’t change. He said he’d go to therapy, but he didn’t. He just kept lying to me. Oh, what a wicked web we weave when first we learn to deceive.

I learned that I was addicted to him. That was why I couldn’t leave. On the occasion when he was nice, he was so nice that it was like the old days. It was like getting a bite of good chocolate in box, and then having to go through the rest of the box and you could only find the good chocolate again by trying everything else. I was addicted to that chocolate. Or maybe it’d be more accurate to say that I was addicted to him like I was to alcohol. Or like my character on Lost was to drugs. Maybe heroin.

I let him take me/And break me/And put me down

I let him bruise me/and use me/I was such a clown.

He battered me/And shattered me/told me I’m worth nothing

He tore me/Said it was for me/Lied to my face, saying it was all for the good of me....

Finally, I left him. After he shot me and almost killed me, I left. I was in the hospital for a week, the doctors trying to fix what was wrong. They told me to report him, but I was still addicted to him, I still loved him. Even though he deserved it, I couldn’t bring myself do it. I just let it be.

When I was released, he came up to me, crying. Asked me to come home. He’d try to change, he said, but I couldn’t trust him. He was homicidal, and I didn’t want to live with him anymore.

I lie. I did want to live with him, but I knew I couldn’t. Next time, I might not be so lucky. Next time, he might not be drunk when he shoots me. Next time, he might actually aim right and kill me.

But there will be no next time.

I left.

I know there isn’t much left to see of me

I know I’m no longer new, but would you still take me?

Now all my scars are gone, my bruises healed. My shoulder still hurts where he shot me, but it’s slowly getting better. I’m almost able to move without any pain.

And now I regret my decision not to take you more than ever. I am all alone now. And you are getting married soon. Asked me to be the best man. I agreed. Once again, I’m stupid. I am going to cause myself more pain by being your best man than I have ever suffered at the hands of Elijah.

I know I’m asking the impossible of you now with your wonderful life

But would you consider taking me, healing me, rescuing me from this strife...?

And I bet it’s too late for me to ask you to take me back. But even if I did, would you? Probably not.

You liked me when I was new. Before this happened.

Before he took me and broke me.

Broken things don’t always mend

Well, if you were willing to wait a little while, maybe I could become as good as new. The scars are fading from my skin, after all. Maybe they will eventually fade from my heart.

Time won’t always heal what’s been

Or maybe they won’t. But I can hope. I can dream. Will you?

I know I’m hurt, broken, crying, useless

I’m no longer the perfect man I was supposed to be. It shows in everything I do. My face is no longer always happy. My movements are slow, depressed. I haven’t healed yet from the emotional damage.

But I could try again, if you’d help me clean up this mess

But it’s too late for me to try again with you. You do love her. I see it in your eyes. And I don’t want to dig up the past. It’s my cause anyway. I need to learn to live with the consequences of my own actions.

I shattered our relationship, after all. It’s my fault.

Sometimes shattered things can’t be glued together

I guess I get to be your best man. I guess I get to try to live again. But I don’t think I’ll ever love again. It’s too painful. And don’t try to help me. I’m fine on my own.

It’s too late for me; I’m gone forever...

I’m broken. Used.

And it’s true, you know. Broken things won’t always mend.