Devil to PayPart 23Elijah has to tell this part - I just wasn't there, mate. Nope...not until the end, and I'm buggered if I can remember that. I remember Lighe, and the look on his face - I'll remember that 'til the day I die. So, here he is... Elijah A hand touched my arm; a voice spoke gently in my ear - not for the first time. "Let me in there, son. Let me have him, now." I turned to the sound of the voice and looked into the soldier's face. What did he see in mine? God knows, because he said -- "Mr Wood?" What happened to "son"? I licked my lips. "I can't." I said. "I can't let go." All around me was suddenly quiet. No more urgent yelling, no scuffling, no shit like that. "Why?" - very softly "Because my hand is all that's stopping Sblom's guts from spilling out over the fucking floor", I whispered, louder than a scream. A hand pressed down over mine on Dom's belly. Huge hand, the size of a catcher's mitt. "I've got him", the voice said. "It's okay, now." I pulled my hand slowly out from under his, and moved back. A blanket came round my shoulders, and someone - fuck knows who - tried to guide me away. I resisted. "Stop it! I'm not moving without him, so fuck off!" The hands stopped. We stood there. I watched the three men working on Dom - putting lines in, sticking dressings on, cutting his clothes off. His jeans came off last. The seat of them was covered in blood and pus. "What happened here?" A medic asked, without turning round. "He was raped", I said. The medic's hands paused momentarily in their appointed task. "I see. When?" I told him. He stood up. He turned to look at me. His face was a mask of impassivity; his hands, encased in latex gloves, were red. "Okay, men, we can move him now. Stat!" We moved. *** We were sitting in the helicopter. I held Sblom's hand. Fuck it - they had to work around me. I was a fucking limpet - but this was my Sblom. No fucking way was I moving. A soldier came and put a pair of combat pants, a shirt and some boots next to me on the floor. "Put these on, sir", she said. I looked up at her. She smiled. A friendly, kind smile. "We're landing in a few minutes, sir - fuck, I liked "son" better! - and the press will be there. You'll look better with these on. Can't have your family and friends seeing the first TV pictures of you in weeks buck naked, now, can we?" Shit, I'd forgotten. I stood and pulled them on. They were all too big, of course. She took off her belt, and I buckled it on. The sleeves of the shirt dangled round my knees. I rolled them up. I got blood all over them, but who fucking cared? I didn't. Dom lay there, a mask over his face, lines in his arms, a dressing on his belly. He looked - shit, what do they say when you ring to find out how they're doing? - comfortable. At least he was out of it, for now. Oh, God! How I wished I was. I was shaking like a leaf, but had refused to be attended to while Dom was... Dom was... The bird landed, and I took a deep breath. Fuck! This was going to be fun. The cameras flashed, but no-one was allowed near us. We piled into the ambulance, raced for the emergency room, and the doors shut behind us. I breathed again. They were taking Dom - wheeling him away on a gurney. "No!" I screamed "Don't take him..." A pair of arms enveloped me. Crushed me like a vise. "Take him", the voice said. "I've got him. Lijah?..." Viggo. Oh, thank God! "C'mon, let's get you seen to, now." "But I'm not hurt, dude. Really - this is Dom's blood..." Dom's blood. Dom's...I hardly felt the needle go in my arm. *** I woke up in bed. I felt pissed. Probably was medicated up to my eyeballs. Viggo was sitting beside me reading a book. I tried to sit up, then fell back. "Steady!", he growled. Fuck, he's great at growling. "You're still in shock." "Fuck off, man. I'm going to find Sblom!" Viggo stopped me by taking my hand and walking around the bed. He put my hand on another. Sblom's. "Go back to sleep, you stubborn bastard." I looked at Sblom. He was in a bed right next to mine - asleep. "Okay", I said. I slept. *** I stayed by Dom's side. I didn't want to move. The extra bed was gone, and I had to make my own arrangements. So I did. Couldn't find a nurse who spoke English - not surprisingly - and I couldn't find a doctor when I thought Dom needed one. This was not good enough for my Sblom, so I got mad. Controlled, but mad. Fuck this Third World healthcare! I had Dom moved by private plane to a clinic in Lausanne. I wanted out of the place. I didn't want him to wake to the accent. Nor to fear. Nor to anything that would scare him. He traveled well...like a fine wine. Asleep, but well. The staff there spoke German, French and - thank fuck - English. Most civilized. When he came round, Dom would be able to communicate his wishes to them in three languages, while I managed on just the one. I felt tired. Bruised. As Dom would say - "totally buggered up". But I had the room next to his to sleep in, Cordon Bleu cuisine if I so desired - I didn't - and efficient staff leaping to attend to Dom's every need. My needs? I hadn't any. All I needed was to see Sblom open his eyes, and look at me. The boys, after a thorough medical, were recuperating in a nearby hotel, refusing to fly home. Not until they found out how Dom was going to be. Not until they knew. I sat by his bed, holding his hand, willing him to wake the fuck up. The surgery had gone well. The damage repaired. The infection responding to the finest medication money could buy. He would be fine. Everything would be fine...when he woke up. I had meals delivered to my - our - room. The boys came with clothing, books, music, candy - stuff like that. I ate, I bathed, I smiled, I signed a few autographs. I knew how to behave for fuck's sake - I'd been doing it long enough. I sat there, and looked at him. His beautiful eyes shut, his hair grown long and feathery straggled over his face. His skin was pale as silk. His hands motionless on the bedding. Time dragged on. The doctors said it wouldn't be long, now. They were the best. Clever dudes, clinical, impersonal. Okay, they wanted him to get well, but no fucker knows how I felt as I sat there, holding his hand, whispering "I love you, Sblom" into his unheeding ears, kissing his hand when no one was looking. Wiping my tears off of it when it got too wet. They wanted me to speak for Andy - the authorities, I mean. They wanted me to corroborate what he'd told them. I said I couldn't do that until I knew what he'd said. They faxed in his statement. I called Viggo and the guys in, we read it, and held a conference. Viggo flew out with our instructions and came back, smiling. I waited, watching the IV in Dom's arms deliver nutriments and liquid. I decided to read The Lord of the Rings right through while I waited. The days were long. I read quickly. When I got to the place where Merry says to Pippin � "Are you going to bury me?" my breath caught. I thought, No, thank God. I went to the little chapel at the clinic. It was simple, just a cross and a few seats. I sat there and thanked the Powers That Be for my Dom's life. For answering my prayers. For letting him live. Anything else we have together is a bonus. I went back to him, and as I sat down in the seat by his bed, a thin voice said..."that you, Lighe? Wanna piss!" My God! No angel voice out of heaven would have sounded more sweet to my ears. "Sblom!" I said, swallowing my tears. "You're awake!" " Lighe - I really want to piss." I smiled at him, and kissed his dry lips. "Well, carry on, dufus! There's a tube in!" He finally focused on my face. And smiled. " Is there any water... parched." There was water. I gave him a few sips. "Hello", I said, smoothing the hair off of his face. He leant his head into my hand. "What day is it, Lighe?" I thought about it. "Tuesday, I think, Sblom. Why?" He smiled at me, again, tears gathering in his eyes. "You know that old saying...Today Is The First Day of the Rest of My Life?" "Our Life, my Sblom", I said, trembling a bit, holding myself steady for him. "Our Life, love." He closed his eyes again, and reached for my hand. "Yeah", he whispered, as he drifted back to sleep. "Yeah." |