Title: Living is Easy with Eyes Closed (7/?)
Author:
_living_is_easy
Rating: R for material Content
Disclaimer: I do not know/own Dominic Monaghan or Billy Boyd (How ever much I would like to). This story is fictional and for entertainment purposes only. Though some things could be based on fact, I have no proof whatsoever. Please enjoy and feedback is nice.
Warnings: Angst. If you do not like the whole idea of cutting, drinking, depression this isn’t for you. Even with a happy ending, the going gets tough.
Feedback: It fuels the fire, and anything is appreciated! There is always room to improve.
A/N: This has some Beatles in it… I was listening to the CD. *giggles*
Previous Chapters: .:1:. .:2:. .:3:. .:4:. .:5:. .:6:.
June 21st
I’m afraid… I’m still so fucking afraid. I don’t want him to leave again… I don’t want things to go back to normal. Normal means I am alone, means Billy’s gone. I don’t want to ‘get better’ because I don’t want Billy to go. I don’t want to watch him leave… again.
I spent the first night in my bed last night… Billy is out sleeping on the couch. I gave him a pillow and a blanket and he was out. I wish I could fall asleep like that… I laid in the darkness for what seemed like hours. The clock above the bureau practically screamed its ticks at me. It knew how I was feeling. It knew what I wanted to do. It knew I wanted to die.
I honestly don’t know why Billy saved me… why he called 9-1-1. Why he waited patiently for me to wake up, talked softly into my ear. Why he held me in his arms last night, as I clung to his chest feeling safe, begging for protection. I don’t know why he didn’t push me away then… I wish he had… I can’t face him now. He sat there, calming my sobs, letting me cry against him. I don’t know why he would do that… why he would listen… why he would tell me he was sorry when he’s just going to leave again. I wanted to tell him to leave… but I couldn’t let go of him never mind say the words. He held onto me like he cared, like he wanted to be there with me, like he wanted to help me. But you can’t help someone who is tied down in the middle of a lake. They’re going to drown no matter how hard you pull on their arm. He doesn’t realize that I’m tied down… I’m still sinking.
He could’ve left me. When he saw me on the ground, he didn’t have to run over and pick me up. He didn’t have to cradle my head, put pressure on my arm. He didn’t have to call the ambulance, or help me puke up those pills. He could’ve laughed, and turned right around. Or for the hell of it, he could’ve sat there and watched me die. That’s what he wanted anyways… isn’t it? He wanted me to die. He wanted to watch me suffer. He wanted to be sitting up in that boat on the lake, looking down on me and watching me drown. He was the one who tied that fucking sinker to my leg didn’t he?!
So why didn’t he let me? Why didn’t he let me drown?
He’s still sleeping out there… soundly… without a care in the world. Like it should be. I could just leave now. It would free him of babysitting me making sure I don’t do anything stupid. I could go into that bathroom, pull up the third tile from the right and take out the razor there. I could go into the upper cabinet above the toilet and get the knife that’s wrapped in the hand towel. Hell, I could be creative and prance right through the living room to the kitchen, and on the way back wave that knife right in his face, mocking him. Only… I wouldn’t be mocking… I would be pleasing. Deep down, he wants me to leave. I know he does. He wants me to die. He doesn’t care that I am around… I’m just a burden. I’m a best friend that never was… it was all a set up. I fell for it… I fell hard…
All of them. Elijah fuck…. Elijah only came in here and cleaned up for Billy’s sake. I’m sure Billy having to babysit me, would not like to also clean up the cans everywhere or the blood on the floor. I’m sure he just wanted to sit there, staring at me and watching me crack. But I won’t crack. Not again. He’s here now, and I’m not going to let him win. Maybe that’s why he save d me… he knew this wasn’t over. He knows that I still have something left in me. And he knows I will fight to the fucking end. I will not crack. I will not talk. I will not sit there and watch him smirk without one on my face too. I will not give him any more satisfaction beside the fact that I am still fighting. I am not giving up.
I will send him home. I will make him know he has not won. I will not let him. I will win… and then, I will be happy. When he is gone, I will be free of him. I will be able to leave this place, with a fucking smile on my face.
Gripping the edge of the journal, Dom wiped his eyes on his shoulder and slid it under the mattress. Getting out from under the covers he moved to the mirror and wiped his cheeks. Inhaling sharply, he leaned his head against his reflection. He was going to win this time. Going to the dresser he pulled out a pair of sweatpants and stared at them. Shaking his head to himself, he threw them onto the ground and pulled out a pair of jeans and then a Beatles T-shirt. It had been a long time since he had even thought about the Beatles. Moving to the other side of the room, he opened up the closet door. Hanging on the back, was a rack of CD’s. Finding the Greatest Hits CD, he grabbed the small radio at the bottom of the closet and went into the bathroom. Putting it on low, he popped his head out the door to make sure he hadn’t woken up Billy. Not that it matters…
Closing the door again, he pulled off his boxers and turned on the shower to a warm temperature. Stepping inside, he stood still, feeling the water running down his back, the Beatles lyrics to ‘Hard Days Night’ surrounding him. Soon, he found himself singing quietly along, a smile on his face. He felt strange… not in a bad way… just different then he had been feeling for god knows how long. Each passing song, he grew louder, singing the words out stronger, making his voice more dramatic, almost… laughing at himself. Turning off the spray, he shook his head quickly letting water from his hair hit the walls. Smiling at himself he grabbed a towel and ruffled it through his hair before placing it at his waist. Clearing mist from the mirror, he wrinkled his nose at himself. Opening up the mirror cabinet, he took a breath. His hand shaking slightly, he reached out to pick up the razor. Placing it on the side of the sink, he stared at is as he turned on the faucet. Splashing his cheeks, he looked away from it and found the shaving cream can.
Lathering the cream onto his cheek, he picked up the razor again and begun to remove the small beard he had accumulated over the past 4 days. As he finished and rinsed the razor he paused as he listened to the song playing.
‘Help, I need somebody. Help, not just anybody. Help, you know I need someone… Help! When I was younger, so much younger then today. I never needed anybody’s help in any way. But now these days are gone and I’m not so self assured and now I find I’ve changed my mind, I’ve opened up the doors. Help me if you can I’m feeling down, and I do appreciate you being around. Help me get my feet back on the ground. Won’t you please, plea-’
Dom jumped away from the sink quickly, and flicked the switch on the radio, killing the music. “I don’t need anybody! Nobody! I don’t need help!” He hissed at the radio, stumbling back away from it. “No one okay? There is nothing wrong with me. I don’t need Billy. Or Elijah. Or the people in London, or from the cast, or my parents or anyone fuck!” Dom said voice panicky. He didn’t know why the song affected him like it did, but he found the razor was being pulled apart in his hand. “I’ll show you… I don’t need anyone…” He said more quietly, slamming the plastic down onto the counter and holding the small metal blade in his hand.
Ripping off the bandage, Dom ignored the sight of the yellowish color of his skin. The cream they had him putting on, was soaking in around the cuts, making his skin look slimy, yellowish… He placed the blade down and pressed lightly.
“Dom?!” Billy banged on the door, making Dom jump and the blade fall to the floor. He had completely forgotten anyone else was in the house with him. “Dom! Are you alright? I heard you yelling... or well, singing and then yelling and the radio was off…”
“Yeah Billy I am fine.” Dom replied shortly bending over to pick up the blade.
“Are you sure? What are you doing?” Billy said quickly and Dom knew he was standing against the door. Sighing, Dom grabbed the plastic and the blade and threw it under the sink.
“Yes. I am sure.” Dom said opening up the door and shrugging his shoulders. Billy looked at him for a second and glanced over his shoulder at the sink, tub, floor.
“Sorry.” He said half smiling.
“It’s alright. Can I get dressed now?” Dom replied moving to shut the door.
“Yeah but what do you want… pancakes or eggs?” Billy asked putting his hand at the door to stop Dom from closing it in his face.
“What?”
“Well don’t look at me like I’ve got four fucking heads!” Billy said laughing lightly. Dom stared at him, almost like he was confused at the question. “For breakfast. What would you like?” Billy clarified after another minute.
“Breakfast…?” Dom asked, scrunching up his face and shaking his head. “No.. nothing.”
“Well you’re getting something. You’re going to eat and you’re going to like it. I’ll make some eggs… its been a while.” Billy replied smiling quickly at Dom before walking away from the door and out into the kitchen. Dom watched him, open the fridge and pull out a carton of eggs and a package of bacon. His stomach churned, growling at him. He placed a hand over it and looked down.
“Bowls are on the right of the stove.” He said looking up to see Billy searching above the sink.
“Thanks.”
“Yeah.”
***
“It’s good, yeah?” Billy asked, his mouthful of eggs. He cocked his head at Dom and took another bite.
“’S not bad.” Dom replied, truthfully, taking a small bite. Billy had made a big bowl of scrambled eggs, with a plate of bacon, and toast. Billy slowed down his pace and watched Dom as he ate.
“You alright?” He asked softly. Dom looked up to meet his eyes, anger suddenly slashing through them.
“Do you think I am alright?” He said harshly, dropping his fork to the table. He stared hard at Billy, who looked like he had just been slapped. “Sorry…” Dom mumbled after a moment, feeling ashamed. If he didn’t want Billy to win… then he couldn’t let Billy get to him. “Ignore me…” He said picking up his fork and taking another bite.
“No. I’m not going to ‘ignore’ you.” Billy said taking a small bite, never looking away from Dom’s face. “I want to help you.”
“You can’t.” Dom replied, taking the last piece of bacon from his plate before leaving the table and putting t he plate into the sink. “You can’t save me.” He said, a tear falling down his cheek as he paused at Billy’s chair.
“Or so you think.” Billy whispered closing his eyes and letting go of the fork. He placed his head into his hands and bit down on his lower lip. He was going to save Dom. He was going to make sure things got better. He was not going to let his Merry fall down into any sort of deep hole. He was there once, and he would not put Dom through that pain.
No one, deserved that.
Chapter Eight
Author:
_living_is_easyRating: R for material Content
Disclaimer: I do not know/own Dominic Monaghan or Billy Boyd (How ever much I would like to). This story is fictional and for entertainment purposes only. Though some things could be based on fact, I have no proof whatsoever. Please enjoy and feedback is nice.
Warnings: Angst. If you do not like the whole idea of cutting, drinking, depression this isn’t for you. Even with a happy ending, the going gets tough.
Feedback: It fuels the fire, and anything is appreciated! There is always room to improve.
A/N: This has some Beatles in it… I was listening to the CD. *giggles*
Previous Chapters: .:1:. .:2:. .:3:. .:4:. .:5:. .:6:.
June 21st
I’m afraid… I’m still so fucking afraid. I don’t want him to leave again… I don’t want things to go back to normal. Normal means I am alone, means Billy’s gone. I don’t want to ‘get better’ because I don’t want Billy to go. I don’t want to watch him leave… again.
I spent the first night in my bed last night… Billy is out sleeping on the couch. I gave him a pillow and a blanket and he was out. I wish I could fall asleep like that… I laid in the darkness for what seemed like hours. The clock above the bureau practically screamed its ticks at me. It knew how I was feeling. It knew what I wanted to do. It knew I wanted to die.
I honestly don’t know why Billy saved me… why he called 9-1-1. Why he waited patiently for me to wake up, talked softly into my ear. Why he held me in his arms last night, as I clung to his chest feeling safe, begging for protection. I don’t know why he didn’t push me away then… I wish he had… I can’t face him now. He sat there, calming my sobs, letting me cry against him. I don’t know why he would do that… why he would listen… why he would tell me he was sorry when he’s just going to leave again. I wanted to tell him to leave… but I couldn’t let go of him never mind say the words. He held onto me like he cared, like he wanted to be there with me, like he wanted to help me. But you can’t help someone who is tied down in the middle of a lake. They’re going to drown no matter how hard you pull on their arm. He doesn’t realize that I’m tied down… I’m still sinking.
He could’ve left me. When he saw me on the ground, he didn’t have to run over and pick me up. He didn’t have to cradle my head, put pressure on my arm. He didn’t have to call the ambulance, or help me puke up those pills. He could’ve laughed, and turned right around. Or for the hell of it, he could’ve sat there and watched me die. That’s what he wanted anyways… isn’t it? He wanted me to die. He wanted to watch me suffer. He wanted to be sitting up in that boat on the lake, looking down on me and watching me drown. He was the one who tied that fucking sinker to my leg didn’t he?!
So why didn’t he let me? Why didn’t he let me drown?
He’s still sleeping out there… soundly… without a care in the world. Like it should be. I could just leave now. It would free him of babysitting me making sure I don’t do anything stupid. I could go into that bathroom, pull up the third tile from the right and take out the razor there. I could go into the upper cabinet above the toilet and get the knife that’s wrapped in the hand towel. Hell, I could be creative and prance right through the living room to the kitchen, and on the way back wave that knife right in his face, mocking him. Only… I wouldn’t be mocking… I would be pleasing. Deep down, he wants me to leave. I know he does. He wants me to die. He doesn’t care that I am around… I’m just a burden. I’m a best friend that never was… it was all a set up. I fell for it… I fell hard…
All of them. Elijah fuck…. Elijah only came in here and cleaned up for Billy’s sake. I’m sure Billy having to babysit me, would not like to also clean up the cans everywhere or the blood on the floor. I’m sure he just wanted to sit there, staring at me and watching me crack. But I won’t crack. Not again. He’s here now, and I’m not going to let him win. Maybe that’s why he save d me… he knew this wasn’t over. He knows that I still have something left in me. And he knows I will fight to the fucking end. I will not crack. I will not talk. I will not sit there and watch him smirk without one on my face too. I will not give him any more satisfaction beside the fact that I am still fighting. I am not giving up.
I will send him home. I will make him know he has not won. I will not let him. I will win… and then, I will be happy. When he is gone, I will be free of him. I will be able to leave this place, with a fucking smile on my face.
Gripping the edge of the journal, Dom wiped his eyes on his shoulder and slid it under the mattress. Getting out from under the covers he moved to the mirror and wiped his cheeks. Inhaling sharply, he leaned his head against his reflection. He was going to win this time. Going to the dresser he pulled out a pair of sweatpants and stared at them. Shaking his head to himself, he threw them onto the ground and pulled out a pair of jeans and then a Beatles T-shirt. It had been a long time since he had even thought about the Beatles. Moving to the other side of the room, he opened up the closet door. Hanging on the back, was a rack of CD’s. Finding the Greatest Hits CD, he grabbed the small radio at the bottom of the closet and went into the bathroom. Putting it on low, he popped his head out the door to make sure he hadn’t woken up Billy. Not that it matters…
Closing the door again, he pulled off his boxers and turned on the shower to a warm temperature. Stepping inside, he stood still, feeling the water running down his back, the Beatles lyrics to ‘Hard Days Night’ surrounding him. Soon, he found himself singing quietly along, a smile on his face. He felt strange… not in a bad way… just different then he had been feeling for god knows how long. Each passing song, he grew louder, singing the words out stronger, making his voice more dramatic, almost… laughing at himself. Turning off the spray, he shook his head quickly letting water from his hair hit the walls. Smiling at himself he grabbed a towel and ruffled it through his hair before placing it at his waist. Clearing mist from the mirror, he wrinkled his nose at himself. Opening up the mirror cabinet, he took a breath. His hand shaking slightly, he reached out to pick up the razor. Placing it on the side of the sink, he stared at is as he turned on the faucet. Splashing his cheeks, he looked away from it and found the shaving cream can.
Lathering the cream onto his cheek, he picked up the razor again and begun to remove the small beard he had accumulated over the past 4 days. As he finished and rinsed the razor he paused as he listened to the song playing.
‘Help, I need somebody. Help, not just anybody. Help, you know I need someone… Help! When I was younger, so much younger then today. I never needed anybody’s help in any way. But now these days are gone and I’m not so self assured and now I find I’ve changed my mind, I’ve opened up the doors. Help me if you can I’m feeling down, and I do appreciate you being around. Help me get my feet back on the ground. Won’t you please, plea-’
Dom jumped away from the sink quickly, and flicked the switch on the radio, killing the music. “I don’t need anybody! Nobody! I don’t need help!” He hissed at the radio, stumbling back away from it. “No one okay? There is nothing wrong with me. I don’t need Billy. Or Elijah. Or the people in London, or from the cast, or my parents or anyone fuck!” Dom said voice panicky. He didn’t know why the song affected him like it did, but he found the razor was being pulled apart in his hand. “I’ll show you… I don’t need anyone…” He said more quietly, slamming the plastic down onto the counter and holding the small metal blade in his hand.
Ripping off the bandage, Dom ignored the sight of the yellowish color of his skin. The cream they had him putting on, was soaking in around the cuts, making his skin look slimy, yellowish… He placed the blade down and pressed lightly.
“Dom?!” Billy banged on the door, making Dom jump and the blade fall to the floor. He had completely forgotten anyone else was in the house with him. “Dom! Are you alright? I heard you yelling... or well, singing and then yelling and the radio was off…”
“Yeah Billy I am fine.” Dom replied shortly bending over to pick up the blade.
“Are you sure? What are you doing?” Billy said quickly and Dom knew he was standing against the door. Sighing, Dom grabbed the plastic and the blade and threw it under the sink.
“Yes. I am sure.” Dom said opening up the door and shrugging his shoulders. Billy looked at him for a second and glanced over his shoulder at the sink, tub, floor.
“Sorry.” He said half smiling.
“It’s alright. Can I get dressed now?” Dom replied moving to shut the door.
“Yeah but what do you want… pancakes or eggs?” Billy asked putting his hand at the door to stop Dom from closing it in his face.
“What?”
“Well don’t look at me like I’ve got four fucking heads!” Billy said laughing lightly. Dom stared at him, almost like he was confused at the question. “For breakfast. What would you like?” Billy clarified after another minute.
“Breakfast…?” Dom asked, scrunching up his face and shaking his head. “No.. nothing.”
“Well you’re getting something. You’re going to eat and you’re going to like it. I’ll make some eggs… its been a while.” Billy replied smiling quickly at Dom before walking away from the door and out into the kitchen. Dom watched him, open the fridge and pull out a carton of eggs and a package of bacon. His stomach churned, growling at him. He placed a hand over it and looked down.
“Bowls are on the right of the stove.” He said looking up to see Billy searching above the sink.
“Thanks.”
“Yeah.”
***
“It’s good, yeah?” Billy asked, his mouthful of eggs. He cocked his head at Dom and took another bite.
“’S not bad.” Dom replied, truthfully, taking a small bite. Billy had made a big bowl of scrambled eggs, with a plate of bacon, and toast. Billy slowed down his pace and watched Dom as he ate.
“You alright?” He asked softly. Dom looked up to meet his eyes, anger suddenly slashing through them.
“Do you think I am alright?” He said harshly, dropping his fork to the table. He stared hard at Billy, who looked like he had just been slapped. “Sorry…” Dom mumbled after a moment, feeling ashamed. If he didn’t want Billy to win… then he couldn’t let Billy get to him. “Ignore me…” He said picking up his fork and taking another bite.
“No. I’m not going to ‘ignore’ you.” Billy said taking a small bite, never looking away from Dom’s face. “I want to help you.”
“You can’t.” Dom replied, taking the last piece of bacon from his plate before leaving the table and putting t he plate into the sink. “You can’t save me.” He said, a tear falling down his cheek as he paused at Billy’s chair.
“Or so you think.” Billy whispered closing his eyes and letting go of the fork. He placed his head into his hands and bit down on his lower lip. He was going to save Dom. He was going to make sure things got better. He was not going to let his Merry fall down into any sort of deep hole. He was there once, and he would not put Dom through that pain.
No one, deserved that.
Chapter Eight
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