Chapter Sixteen - Light With Your Eyes Closed
"I think we've gone over these lines enough, Bill," he sighs, chucking his script pages onto the bed. "Not that these will be the ones we're going with anyway; Pete's likely to change them an hour before cameras start rolling."
"Darling," Billy chuckles and stretches out noisily on the other bed. "I seriously doubt that. He won't grant us the luxury of an hour. I say fifteen minutes. No more."
"I hate to say it, but you're probably right."
"That's because you don't like me to be right, right?"
"Exactly, sweetheart. I'm wearing the trousers in this relationship, so I should be the one who's always right."
"Are you implying anything less than flattering about my kilt here, Monaghan?"
"Apart from the fact that those tartan boxers of yours are hilarious? I wouldn't dream of it."
"Good, because otherwise I'd have to-" but Billy's interrupted by a loud knock on the door.
"Open up, Dom!" comes a voice from the corridor, and both men instantly realise it's Sean. There's another rap on the door and Dom is up from the bed and across his room in three large strides, reaching for the doorknob when a third knock is delivered.
"Hang on, man," he grumbles as he swings the door open. "What's wrong?"
Without waiting for an invitation, Sean crosses the threshold and exchanges glances with Billy, who has moved to sit on the edge of the bed. He more or less collapses on the couch and waves the mobile phone he's holding in front of Dom and Billy's stunned faces.
"Will you finally tell us what's going on?" Dom asks and grabs Sean's hand as if to stress his point.
"I can't reach them," the American finally says, then takes a large gulp of air and the words fall from his lips in rapid succession. "I have been trying to call them because I want to know where they are and tell them they really should return; that there is danger of new landslides because of the rain, you know, but I can't reach them. Either one of them. I'm worried sick and-"
"Just a minute," Billy interrupts, holding up a hand, clearly enunciating every word in an attempt to calm Sean down. "Who is it that you can't reach and why are you talking about landslides?"
"What have you guys been up to?" Sean asks irritably, standing up from the couch to part the curtains with a distinctive rip. "Haven't you noticed the amount of rain that is falling right now?"
Surprised, the two Brits watch how sheets of torrential rain are steadily lashing down on the cobbled streets outside their comfortable hotel and slowly turn their heads towards each other. They haven't looked out of their windows all day, busy as they were watching films and going over lines and ordering room service and basically trying to kill time. For all they know Weta technicians and set dressers are putting final touches to the locations where they will all commence filming tomorrow.
"I don't think I have ever seen this much rain in my entire life," Billy announces as he stares out of the window.
"Coming from a Scot, I find that a pretty worrying notion," Dom replies as he scans the streets outside, noticing that the pavements are no longer visible due to the incredible amounts of water falling from the sky.
"Okay," Billy says, clearing his throat. He turns around to face Sean. "I see your point. Now, why do you have your knickers in a twist like this - who have you been trying to get in touch with so desperately?"
"Orli first," Sean sighs and collapses again on one of the beds. "And his cell is not connecting. Nor is Elijah's."
Dom spins around and away from the window a little too fast and is just in time to notice how Billy is fixing him with a poignant stare.
"What do you mean, Elijah?" he asks slowly, trying to make his voice sound casual, well-aware of Billy's piercing green eyes boring holes in the side of his head. "What does Elijah have to do with this?"
"You guys weren�' there this morning as it was really early, but he decided to go with Orli," Sean mutters, not looking at Dom, pulling at the fabric of the bedspread. "One of his rare last-minute, spur-of-the-moment decisions. I doubt if these guys even brought raincoats or provisions or, God forbid, a simple bottle of water. And the weather forecast says it's going to be even worse by nightfall."
"Now calm down, Sean," Billy offers, instantly aware of the magnitude of Sean's anxiety. He sits down next to his friend. "They're not stupid, I'm sure they brought such essentials. They know the weather has been unreliable all week out here. And where was it again, that Orli wanted to go? He mentioned it on the flight over."
"Arrowtown," Sean fills in, staring at the hypnotising rain again and sighs dejectedly.
Suddenly, on hearing the name of the town, Dom remembers Orlando mentioning he'd like to visit the quaint little place a few miles south of their current location, and now he also remembers Elijah almost literally citing entire pages from his New Zealand edition of Places To Go. The way he knows Elijah, the boy probably jumped at the opportunity to go and see the place with his own eyes.
He swallows hard. He had noticed Orli and Elijah's absence at the breakfast table, but simply assumed they were either sleeping in or not hungry. That last notion especially seems incredibly stupid to Dom all of a sudden, and, knees buckling, he sits down quickly, wondering why he hadn't been aware of the fact Elijah had left the hotel so early that morning; why he hadn't actually missed him yet...
With a wry smile creeping around his mouth, he wonders if Elijah had actually managed to do something without him knowing anything about it. Had he actually given up on the private investigator act now that he was a little more secure about Elijah's friendship and maybe even his love interest? Had he finally lightened up a bit about his obsession with the diminutive American?
Well, fuck, Dom thinks to himself and grabs the armrests with both hands to force himself to remain seated. Just look where that fucking got you, Monaghan. Now he's out there somewhere and you can't fucking reach him and you didn't even miss him until now. You wanker, you didn't even say 'goodbye' or 'be careful' or some other random shit like a hug or... or...
"Dom," Billy's voice snaps him out of his trance. "Focus here, okay?"
Dom blinks a couple of times, ignoring the sudden frown on Sean's face, and looks at his hands, at his white knuckles, and guiltily rests them in his lap.
"Try them once more," Billy suggests, and wraps an arm around Sean's shoulder, offering his most reassuring smile as Sean taps Orli's number into his phone.
On the other side of the room, Dom can't help but jump up from his chair by the window and starts pacing up and down the room, casting nervous looks at Sean pressing his mobile to his ear.
Last night... It was last night. Downstairs in the bar, drinking beer. You had been sitting so close to me, all giggles and smiles, cheeks flushed. Because you're a lightweight. A beautiful fucking lightweight. I can still feel your warmth - your heat - and I know some of those brilliant smiles were for me and for me alone - and where the fuck are you now? Why didn't you even tell me you were going? I could have come too - I would have. I'd go anywhere with you.
And that just sounded bloody pathetic, Monaghan.
Snap out of it.
"Damn," Sean hisses suddenly, switching off his phone and throwing it on the bed angrily, where it disappears between the pillows.
"Damn!" he calls out again and stands up, bending over the bed to snatch up his phone. He turns around and starts making his way to the door.
"Where are you going?" Billy asks, quickly jumping up to follow Sean.
Both men look at each other for a second.
"This is getting out of hand," Sean mutters, turning around again and walking out into the corridor. "I've been letting this hang for way too long. I'm going to find Barry, or Mark, or Pete if I have to. They have to start a search or something." He turns around once more and looks at Billy, just in time to see Dom step up behind the Scot, eyes wide with worry.
"I have a really bad feeling about this, guys, especially after what happened to Orli and Bean last week..." Sean turns around one last time and starts walking down the corridor. "I'll be in touch when I know more!" he calls out without looking back, then disappears around the corner.
Dom closes the door and walks back into the hotel room, which suddenly feels cramped and oppressive. He moves to stand in front of the large windows and stares at the rain that is still lashing down incessantly. Quietly, Billy moves to stand beside him, resting a hand on his back, and Dom turns his head slightly to look at his friend's face. He notices the skin around Billy's eyes is creased with small worry lines that he had never spotted before, and it tugs at his heart to realise that it makes Billy look a solid ten years older than he actually is.
"It's going to be okay, Bill," he whispers, wrapping an arm around Billy's shoulders. "You'll see. Those two won't run into all kinds of trouble just because of a little rain..."
"This is not a little rain, Dom," Billy scowls, straightening his back. "This is a bloody flood, look at the streets." He turns around, refusing to look at the constant flow of water beating down on the hotel's small, cobbled courtyard down below.
"I know, I'm sorry - I wasn't trying to play it down or anything-" Dom starts, frowning, but Billy turns his head around and the usual kindness in his eyes has already returned.
"Och, Dom" he says quickly, looking at his friend for a second before hugging him tightly. "I'm sorry. I really am." He keeps his arms around Dom's body, squeezing a bit before letting go. "If there's anyone here who needs to apologise, it's me."
Billy turns away from the window and sits down on the bed again, stretching out on the mattress and closing his eyes.
"So what do we do now?" Dom asks, and can't help but pace.
"There's not much we can do, mate, we'd only be in people's way, probably," Billy mutters, his eyes still closed. "So whether it's for Sean with some news or for Orli and Lij actually showing up - really all we can do is wait."
"Dom?"
Dom looks up from his slouched position on the floor. He had been pacing up and down the room for a while longer, until Billy had started clearing his throat a little too loudly. In the end he had just slid down the wall opposite the bathroom and had been staring at the narrow slit of light coming from behind the door, trying to follow the minute specks of dust dancing in the lamplight every time he moved his hand or his foot.
"Yeah?"
From the corner of his eyes he watches how Billy is slowly sitting up, trying to locate Dom's exact position and decides he's going to watch the specks of dust again, rather than look at Billy and his worry lines.
"You okay?"
No. "Yeah."
"You sure?"
It hasn't stopped raining, Bill, and it's only been twenty-five minutes since Sean left. "Yeah."
Billy stands up from the bed and walks over to where Dom is sitting, legs pulled up tight against his chest, arms by his sides, fingers plucking compulsively at the carpet. When he crouches down and reaches out a hand to touch Dom's wrist and still it, Dom's gaze drops and Billy exhales a shaky breath.
"Dom?"
Dom doesn't look up but stares at his hand in Billy's, warm and secure.
"Yeah?"
"Can I ask you something?"
"Just did."
"About Elijah?"
Here we go-
Here we go. Now I have to tell him, explain to him why I freaked out earlier when Sean was here. Now he wants to know the score and I don't want to tell him. I'm not ready to tell him. Or anyone. Not now. Not just yet. Not without talking to you about this...
"Dom?" Billy's voice sounds like he is on the other side of the bathroom door. Or maybe three bathroom doors. Or outside. In that bloody rain.
I just can't believe we never talked about this. Together, I mean. About those kisses. Because blokes just don't share kisses without them meaning something, right? Or do they? We both liked the kisses, right? We both wanted them - fuck, you even asked for one the other day on the beach...
"Dom."
Billy. "Billy."
"Elijah... Are you... I mean," Billy falters for a few seconds. "Are you two..."
"Can't tell," Dom mumbles as he tries to swallow, his mouth suddenly parchment-dry, his stomach doing flip-flops.
Billy moves to sit on the floor as well, slowly letting go of the hand he had been holding all the time, and lifts Dom's head with a finger under his stubbly chin.
"Why not?" he asks gently and peers into the wild blue-grey of Dominic's eyes.
"I..." and this time it's Dom's turn to waver. "I wouldn't really know what to say. I'm not sure if there's anything to say..."
Billy stares at him, possibly weighing his words. Maybe Billy's willing to let it go.
Dom knows Billy's no fool. He knows Billy caught his reaction when Sean mentioned Elijah's name just now. He knows that Billy sees much more than he generally lets on. He clearly remembers the many hours he had been awake the night after they'd gone surfing, worrying about what Billy might have seen of their brief but intense kiss on the beach that day. And maybe that's the reason why, in fact, Billy's not so willing to let it go.
"Dom..."
It's just that, last night, you spilled beer all over the table when you returned with that new round, and you slid into the booth and pressed your thigh against mine and you were just so warm, and you drank your beer and giggled all the way through Viggo trying to explain the finer points of fly fishing, and you mumbled something about fish wearing pants-
"Dom."
-and you were still giggling when you tumbled sideways, swaying a little, your head lolling against the back of the booth and then you just rested it on my shoulder. And I know I must have been drunk too because I stroked your cheek right there, in front of everyone, and you just giggled again and said something about my fingers and it had the whole table in laughter but I can't remember what it was you said because you were staring at me with those blue eyes of yours and I almost couldn't handle it when you closed them, too tired and wasted to keep them open any longer, and Billy made this cooing noise on the other side of the table and-
Billy. Fuck.
"Billy," Dom gulps, opening his eyes, secretly wondering how far away he had been. "S-sorry, you were saying?"
"Nothing yet," Billy smiles and Dom feels a violent blush breaking out on his face.
"It's just," Billy gestures randomly, "you know," more waving of his hands between the two of them, "I wonder why we're not connecting here."
"We kissed," Dom suddenly blurts out, immediately clapping a hand over his lips as if he could undo the damage and stuff the words right back into his mouth. He stares at the Scot and wonders why he just told him something he actually never meant to tell him. Or at least not yet.
But Billy only smiles that soft smile of his, which makes his face so much gentler than it already is. There's some sort of indefinable quality in his eyes, something Dom can't quite place but which takes away this gripping fear of having done something really stupid. He swallows.
"I-I didn't mean to tell you, Bill..." he starts, staring at the floor between his feet. "Nothing personal, you know, but... It's just that..." He takes a deep breath. "Elijah and I haven't talked about it yet. And yes, I know that sounds totally str-"
"Hush, Dominic," Billy interrupts, grabbing one of Dom's hands again. "It doesn't sound strange at all.
"It sounds like the two of you are acting on how you feel but haven't really found words for it yet. Really - not strange at all."
Dom releases the breath he had been holding and offers his friend a shy smile, looking up.
"I for one," Billy continues conversationally, in his typical lilt, "am just very happy that Elijah hasn't rejected you. Remember you were so scared of that? How you were so absolutely certain that he was straight?"
Dom starts to grin, remembering his words outside on the deck of his house in Wellington, one of those first nights Billy came over for dinner. It suddenly hits him that he hadn't planned on telling Billy anything about his obsession with Elijah that night either, but had done it anyway. Somehow, it seems, he can't keep his mouth shut when that Scot is asking questions.
"So..." the Scot in question starts once more, slowly. "He likes you then?"
It makes Dom blush again, and he wonders how it's possible that the terrible uncertainty of the moment - the not knowing where Orlando and Elijah are right now - the nerves he had been trying to keep at bay for the last hour ever since Sean had come barging in with his bad tidings - seem to have disappeared for the moment. Maybe Billy really is a fucking genius...
"I guess he does..." Dom answers softly, realising all of a sudden how much that fact amazes him and how he hadn't really given the notion any proper thought.
"He likes to talk music with me, Bill - he's like this walking encyclopaedia, I'm bloody serious. And the CDs he has back at his house...
"And he's a really clever guy, you know... I asked him about the film sets he's been on and he told me about the people he's worked with, and about filming in general and he knows so much about it, Bill, it's really incredible for a guy his age - but he's really modest about it too, which is very Elijah, now that I think of it...
"He told me he feels like I'm his best friend here, and I can't even begin to tell you what that means to me, you know, because he has Sean, and I know they're close, a-and he is so well-loved by the cast and the crew, and he is so generous and easy with his affection for everyone. Sometimes I just can't understand why he would choose me, of all the people around him, to be so close to."
Suddenly, he is quiet and just stares ahead of him, past Billy's shoulder, eyes fixed again on the narrow strip of soft yellow light coming from the bathroom.
"Well..." Billy starts and scoots forwards a little to rest his hands on Dom's knees, dragging his attention back to the here and now. "Maybe he thinks you're a good kisser."
"Right," Dom grimaces. "That must be it"
"You must have done something right, Dom," Billy smiles and starts getting to his feet, offering his hand. "Because I noticed the way he looks at you, drunk or not."
He walks the three steps to the hotel room door and opens it, looking over his shoulder. "Let's find Sean"
Dom finds himself in a corner of Pete's spacious hotel room and stares at the incessant rain again. Around him, there are people, there are voices; Pete and Barry hunched over a computer screen, Sean and Billy in a discussion over the route Orli and Lij must have taken, a hotel staff member trying to get through to a local police in town, and Viggo pacing the room like he himself did just minutes before.
Suddenly, Fran bursts from the adjoining room, disconnecting a call on her mobile, and when she looks around, watching so many people trying to find out what's going on, she decides to walk over to the window and stands next to Dom.
"You okay?" she asks, and Dom smiles inwardly, thinking of Billy's exact same words earlier that evening. He glances sideways, looking at the woman with the raven black hair who had cared for him so lovingly when he had fallen ill some two weeks ago.
"I'm okay," he whispers, not daring to speak out loud for fear his voice will break, and accepts the hand she's reaching out for him to hold.
He knows she is worried. It had been almost painfully obvious, from the earliest days onwards, how emotionally connected she is to Elijah. He noticed quickly that Elijah always got that extra touch or squeeze when she was around, that she always had this smile for him that no one else was ever given, and that she hugged him much more often than any of the others, rubbing his back and telling him that Frodo was doing a wonderful job.
Fran had been the only person in the entire production that Dom hadn't been jealous of in those early days, when everyone who seemed to be in better contact with Elijah than him, was subjected to his eternal envy. He had always thought of Fran as Elijah's surrogate mother in New Zealand, and he knew for a fact that Pete's wife would make sporadic phone calls to California, to inform Elijah's mother of her son's well being.
Dom wishes he could get one of her hugs now, but quickly forgets the idea and looks at her, smiling timidly.
"I'm worried," he whispers and squeezes her hand a little. "They should have been back by now..." He turns to the window again and peers into the dark. "They should have been back for hours."
It's the dead of night and Dom is sitting on the floor in the lobby with his back against an enormous potted plant. The girl behind the desk keeps throwing him curious glances, but remembers her instructions to leave him alone and so she does, probably wondering why he won't just sit in a chair.
Dom is trying to breathe. He is not just sitting here, hanging against this potted plant; he is actually trying to straighten his spine so that the necessary air can flow in and out, so that he can clear his mind and stop himself from going insane. He's trying to be logical, reasonable, practical. He doesn't want to play and replay one after the other horrific scenario in his head - all ending in death and despair. He wants to believe it's going to be all right.
Two hours ago, Barry's phone had rung and the local police who had been asked to scout the area had actually found a man, some fifteen miles west of Arrowtown, who claimed he had seen two boys in a four-wheel-drive somewhere in the early afternoon.
They had asked him for directions to a well-known nature reserve a few miles west of Arrowtown and, sure - I can give descriptions of them both. They weren't from �round here, sir, if you'd ask me. They looked kinda foreign to me. The one who was driving had barely any hair - I think he had shaved it off, sir - and the other was smaller, with dark, almost black hair, standing in all directions. And he had blue eyes. Yes, blue - I remember those eyes quite distinctly. And he called his friend "Orli", but what kind of name is that, right? I doubt I heard correctly.
As the road they were driving on was in fact both the only way into and out of the rugged, even treacherous area, they should have passed him on their return, but they hadn't been spotted again. As he hadn't seen any camping equipment in their car, he had then decided to call the police.
Cars had left the hotel in the pouring rain, to catch up with the police already gathered in the designated area. Barry and Mark had both gone off to help find their two actors, and Dom, much to his anger, had been ordered to stay put. They didn't want any more people out there in the darkness and the rain, they said. Dom knew there was no point in arguing, as their reasoning made perfect sense, but he hated being left behind, hated not being able to do anything.
You sort of fell asleep in my lap last night, you know... I had to catch your beer bottle from slipping out of your fingers and crashing to the floor. I finished it for you. It was tepid, but it was yours. I saw Billy looking at me downing your last drops of beer, and he winked at me. That silly Scot just winked at me... I think he knows exactly what is going on, Lij, but he won't tell anyone. He asked today, quickly, and I spilled the beans a bit, but I think that's going to be okay. Billy is okay.
Dom turns his head around to look at the enormous clock on the lobby wall and notices it is half past three. He inhales again, audibly, and turns back, closing his eyes, allowing the air to escape in slow, rhythmic bursts.
I walked you to your room, Lij, and you kept leaning on me, and you giggled so close to my ear about how you were never going to get up in time the next day, and that made so little sense to me then, but, God, now I understand. I didn't think you were going anywhere; I just assumed you were going to sleep in and nurse your hangover. I left you on your bed last night, Lijah; I tried talking you into using your toothbrush, but it was pointless.
Dom briefly wonders how much light you can actually see when you have your eyes closed. Because it isn't pitch dark anymore in his head... The light is turning slightly pink, maybe red.
I'll admit it, I wanted to stay. It was bloody difficult to leave you alone there, to not crawl under those covers and hold you in my arms and fall asleep with you. I knew you wouldn't have objected, you were too far gone and that was the only reason why I managed to walk out of there. If I ever stay the night with you, I want it to be a conscious decision for both of us.
Dom knows he just heard a sound. It may have been the rain picking up again, or someone walking outside on the gravel of the driveway, or perhaps it's the girl on her nightshift behind the reception desk turning a page in her cheap romance novel. All Dom knows is that he isn't going to open his eyes to look, because the light inside his head has just turned bright yellow - and it reminds him of Elijah.
I kept saying goodnight and you just wrapped your arms around my neck and refused to let me go. Those twenty minutes on your bed, pressed up against your warmth... those were incredible. We kissed for a bit, and they were such sloppy kisses, like we were too tired to make a real effort, and too drunk to mind. You licked my nose, and it tickled, but you had such a serious look on your face, as if trying to establish the flavour of my nose was one of your life's missions.
Before you could tell me if you'd ever want to lick my nose again, you simply fell asleep on me, and it made me smile and untangle myself from your wiry limbs. I made sure you were covered by the duvet, and I pushed you onto your side, in case you had to puke, and then I walked out of the room, without looking back, or I doubt I would have left you at all.
He opens his eyes. There are lights outside.
Headlights.
Cars.
A/N: In reality, Dom went with Elijah and Orli to visit this place called Arrowtown, and there were no reports of any problems (even though they went there right after the flooding of Queenstown). The real scare had been for Orli and Bean when they were caught between two landslides on their way to Queenstown days earlier.
Chapter Seventeen
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