Scorpion Pinches and Butterfly Kisses, Part 5/6

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Title: Scorpion Pinches and Butterfly Kisses, Part 5/6
Author: Laura -- silentnumbsmoke
Pairing: DM/BB, DM/EW
Rating: R -- language and a sensitive topic
Feedback: Oh, I'm so addicted to feedback, you wouldn't believe it. It's... *bows head in shame* Rather sad, actually. *puppy-dog eyes* Please, contribute to the 'Keep-Laura-Sane' Foundation?
Disclaimer: I don't believe any of this ever occurred.
Notes: *huggles beta, red_moon_rising*

Sorry it was so long after I posted Part 4! I spent two weeks in Europe (if you're interested, if I ever get off my lazy arse and write it, I'll be posting a trip recap, with pictures, in my journal), so I use that as my excuse.

Warning: Touchy subject.

Previous parts:
1
2
3
4





Part V

There he is. There's the fucker. He's clueless about so much. He doesn't know that I know his dirty little secret, that Dom's been living with me for the past week (I love Billy so much. After spilling everything, he took me under his wing, and nearly demanded PJ that I have a day off before I convinced him otherwise.) or that I'm planning to help Dom escape and show him what real love is.

(The more I think about Billy's definition of love, the more positive I am that I am in love.) Because I'm in love with him, (With Billy.) the love I described to him, the definition he's asked to hear again numerous times this past week, as if it were some sort of 'Once Upon A Time' fairy tale. I only hope I can be Dom's personal Prince Charming, save him from the evil tower of despair, and make sure his own tale ends with 'Happily Ever After.'

It's difficult, but I have to hold back an arrow-shooting glare at Elijah as he walks toward me, grinning. I can't start anything here, I know. There are too many people with cameras, and although the film is meant for their departing loved ones, I'm sure some would make an exception if they spotted two famous hobbits battling it out. Besides, Sean, who's, of course, dragging the latest fashion of rolling luggage, would be amazingly confused. After all, he doesn't know that our supposedly 'innocent' Frodo is a fucking sadistic bastard.

This morning, my newly-formed hatred for Elijah grew as I woke up to Dominic, sobbing in the guest bedroom. "He's coming today," he shook as I embraced him, "and he'll hate me if he knows I don't want to see him!" (It's not so much that I care what he thinks, but rather, I'm scared of what he'll do. If he does these kinds of things to me when he says he loves me, what would he do if he hated me?) It took me forever to calm him down. (I can't go back to him, not now, not when I know there's a love that so much better than the love I receive from him… a love that doesn't hurt - that's pure.) I had to assure him that he wouldn't have to come to the airport, that he wouldn't have to see Elijah today. He finally fell to a restless sleep, clinging to me helplessly.

I grin and laugh as I hug my fellow hobbits - that's when I realize that I must be a good actor if Elijah thinks that we're still friends. His eyes narrow as he glances around curiously. "Where's Dom?" (He always has to keep tabs on me. When we're apart it seems like he doesn't really care - he hasn't called me once since I left LA, though I know I'll get crap for not ringing him.)

I grind my teeth. Somewhere safe, namely away from you, fucker! "Oh, I told him to rest." I sling one of Sean's bags over my shoulder, leaving Elijah to drag his along as we make for the baggage claim. "He must've gotten a brutal orc beating; he's covered in bruises." Bloody bastard, he doesn't even flinch.

"Is Treebeard being rough with him again?" Sean chuckles, but I ignore him, my eyes on Elijah, who merely smirks, adjusting the bag on his back.

"I'll have to give him a massage when we get to the hotel."

Fucker, you keep your paws off him, you've given him enough 'love' to last him a month, when his bruises of affection will finally fade.

I'm this close to voicing my fury of thoughts when we're stopped to sign some autographs. Good thing, too. I give the young women even larger grins than usual for keeping me from punching Elijah's fucking alien eyes out.

My acting begins to fade as we near the hotel. We've been making small talk this entire time, and I've had to keep myself from speeding to get to our destination, when I can finally let loose. Elijah is, of course, oblivious, but Sean's noticing the glares I keep casting into the rearview mirror at the jabbering fool.

Pocketing the car keys and stepping from the parked vehicle, I turn to Elijah, who's struggling to pull his bags from the boot, with no help from me. "Lij, here are the keys to your hotel room."

He takes them with a grateful smile, and I can't help but wonder how someone who looks so innocent can be so… evil. (Some days, I think I dreamt the abuse. I can recall the yelling and the pain all too vividly, but when he looks at me, his eyes so clear and sweet, it just doesn't seem possible.) "Is Dom already up there?" Taking a quick glance at the keycard and the paper holding it, he memorizes the first number - 5, which informs him of his floor number.

"No, actually…" Finally, what I've been waiting for. I hold the door open for the Americans and try my hand at my own look of feigned innocence.

The young man looks confused, moving his bag from hand to hand in an attempt to distribute the weight. "Pete's not making him work, is he? I was hoping to see him!"

Yeah, I bet you were, you devil. "No, he's not working…" This should feel good… letting him know that I know what an arse he is to Dom, but I just keep seeing the side of him that looks half his age, the Elijah that can do no wrong. (Another reason why I could never tell anyone. Not only would I be humiliated by the fact, but, looking at Elijah, who the fuck would believe me?)

"Then where is he?" I almost feel sorry for him - the poor bastard, he's completely flummoxed. (So many times, I wonder what I did wrong, if there was something I could have done differently to keep this entire thing from starting, to keep Elijah loving me.)

I glance over at Sean, who's watching with wide, observant eyes. It's obvious he's figured out something's wrong here. "Lij, can I talk to you alone?"

"Sure," he starts, confused. "What is it? Where's Dom?" On my way to the airport, I'd stopped by the hotel to arrange to have the conference room at this time. Nodding at the desk clerk, I motion for Elijah to follow me.

"What's this?" He asks as I calmly close the solid door behind us. I'm glad there's no window - if there was, I wouldn't be able to say and do what I've been waiting a week to do. "What's going on, Billy?"

"Dom's staying with me," I state, taking in a deep breath as I turn and face him.

"Well," he sends me an uneasy smile, "I'm here now and he won't be getting lonely, so he can come back to the hotel."

"No," I shake my head. "You misunderstand. Dom's staying with me for the length of the pickup shots." (I feel bad thinking this, but I'd be perfectly content if I never have to see Elijah again.)

Elijah looks awfully pissed now, and that only makes me pleased. "Don't you think it'd make more sense for him to stay with his boyfriend?"

"No," I repeat, leaning calmly against the door. "Not in this case, Elijah." My voice is low, cool… dangerous. I feel somewhat like one of the greasers from The Outsiders… It seems like they're always in control. I've always wanted that feeling, to know I was in control of the situation… and I feel it now. (Elijah's always in control.)

"What the fuck does that mean?" He's getting angrier and angrier by the moment - he obviously doesn't like to have his position threatened. (For a person who gives out threats by the minute, Elijah sure can't take them.)

"Do you love him?" The words are sudden and unexpected. Perfect. (There's only one way to get Elijah flustered - catch him with his guard down, his trousers caught around his ankles.)

Elijah's eyes are wide, incredulous and angry. "What?!?"

"Well, I do." I stride toward him, stopping a foot away, though I'm sure my clenched fists make up for the distance. "Keep your hands off him. Or," I cock my head, "to be more literal, keep your fists off him."

Dropping his traveling pack to the ground, Elijah crosses his arms and stares, his eyes narrowed. "What the fuck are you suggesting, Billy?"

"It's not a suggestion, Elijah." I speak as if nothing had ever been more simple. "It's a fact. I saw the bruises." His entire body tenses and the blood drains from his cheeks. "Yes, Elijah, I know what you've done to him. So," I crack my knuckles, watching in pleasure as he flinches, "unless you want to lose some teeth and have people find Frodo's extra-large gap not quite so adorable, then my suggestion is that, unless we're working, you stay the fuck away from Dom."

His jaw tenses and he stares at me. I can see the wheels turning, the fire in his eyes (I never thought Elijah could look angry… I always thought the deep blue would put out any dangerous fires, but… as I quickly found out, I was wrong.) that lets me know I'm in the danger zone, that I should see bright lights flashing, alarms going off… That he wants desperately to have the control he does with Dom… Seeing his hands clench into the same fists I told him to keep away from Dom, I know he wants to achieve the control in the same fashion, as well.

How the hell he thinks he can do that, I don't know. Does he really think I'm going to stand here and let him hurt me? (I always look back and wonder why I never hit him back. Because I'm a good person, I want to tell myself. Because I'm a pacifist. But I know it's all a lie. I know the reason is because each time I cry out in pain at Elijah's hand, I tell myself that he won't do it again, that he doesn't know what he's doing, so why hurt an already confused mind? And there's that tiny rule I have about not hurting people I love…)

"He's my boyfriend." His words are sharp, piercing. I don't even flinch. (As painful as the bruises and cuts are, I think his words are really what hurts me the most. The mutterings of anger, the punches to my gut letting me know that I deserve everything I'm getting. I used to believe all of it, too, but now, after a week of discussions - or, shall I say, sob sessions - with Billy, I'm trying to get it through my skull that this isn't love. That I don't deserve those hard raps to the base of my neck - the raps I always thought meant love, meant caring… meant 'I love you, and I wish I didn't have to do this, but if you keep gazing at Bill the way that you are, then you deserve it.' But I don't deserve it. Really, I… I wish I could believe that.) "He's my boyfriend," Elijah repeats.

Yeah, as if that fact eluded me, Elijah. He's nearly shaking with anger, and, glancing down, I see his knuckles are white from the pressure, from the urge to sock me one. "He won't be for long if I have anything do with it, Elijah." I pull back. The conversation is nearly over, and although I hide it well, I'm desperate to get out of here and away from those fists, because I've seen what they can do.

(If I had any pride left after what Lij's been doing to me, it jumped the coop when Billy made me undress for him, made me show him all my bruises, parade as if in a fashion show. Of course, he's Billy, so he didn't let it seem quite so degrading at the time, but still… it was so humiliating, admitting that I'd even let Elijah do what he's done! Billy merely stared, his eyes sympathetic and so wise I wondered if he'd known as soon as Elijah hit me that first night, when I picked up my mobile to ring him… but instead ordered Chinese for whenever Elijah returned… an apology for whatever it was I'd done. I stood there for Billy for what felt like forever, fidgeting like the nervous, hyperactive child I was… until he opened his arms up and I crawled into them, falling asleep in the first loving embrace I had for nearly half a year.)

I turn to leave, but I'm stopped short as Elijah launches himself at me, his eyes desperate. "How… how d'you plan to do that, Bill? I… I need him!"

I've heard of this. Abusive boyfriends growing so dependent on the consistency of their lovers… Staring at his crumbling face, I have to keep my gaze from softening. I also feel sorry for the poor bastard. "A relationship takes two people, Lij," I tell him, "and love. And I'm working to make sure Dom knows the truth."

"And what's that?" He gulps, and I want the frightening, angry Elijah back. It's so hard to be stern to the Elijah I thought I knew!

I watch him and realize that I do feel sorry for him. Not in the way that I think Dom should forgive him and return to those fists, but in the way that I'm sure all this started with a momentary lapse of control, spiraling downwards until he fell into this deep, dark pit he can't escape from. I curse Elijah's eyes for being so damned expressive, and I continue. "That you don't deserve him, Elijah."

Without another word, I turn from his upset gaze and escape from the conference room, the door shut tightly behind me. I let out a tired smile at Sean's sudden, inquiring, concerned expression.

"Don't worry, Sean. He's still alive." Lifting my hand in a wave, I nod my appreciation to the desk clerk and return home.