Endgame

 

Author:  Kevswitchau

Pairing:  EW/DM

Genre:  RPS

Rating:  M

Warnings:  language, angst. 

Disclaimer:  This never happened.  I don’t own the actors.  I don’t know the people involved.  This is all a figment of my imagination.

 

 

“Dom.  Dommie, don’t...please don’t go, she didn’t mean it...really.  She doesn’t know anything about this.  About us.  Please...”

 

Dom slammed the door behind him. 

 

He loved Elijah.  Loved him.  But he couldn’t do it any more. 

 

He knew she wanted the best for Lij.  He was her son, and it was her job to protect him, Dom knew that. 

 

He knew that’s what made her say those things. 

 

But there was something else.  Something that made him stop and think...something that made him leave.

 

Perhaps she was right.  Just perhaps...

 

So he left.

 

It was the hardest thing he’d ever done.  But this time it was for real.  This time it was for good.  He’d see if Mack would put him up, then he’d find his own place.  Or he’d go home.  As far away from LA as possible. 

 

Home sounded great just about now.

 

It wasn’t Lij’s fault.  Dom knew that.  He was young, and it was all so huge.  He needed someone to look out for him.  To protect him.  To make sure that everything went right...went smoothly.

 

But he also needed someone to love him. 

 

Not because he was a star, not because he was Frodo Baggins, not because he was idol of hundreds of screaming teeny-boppers or the biggest thing since sliced bread....

 

But because if you caught him at the right moment when he didn’t know you were looking at him, his face looked a little weary.  And sad.  And lost. 

 

Because he whimpered just slightly in his sleep, and because when he hugged you, sometimes it felt like he was drowning, reaching for someone to save him. 

 

He needed someone to love him because his kisses tasted like smoke and cloves and laughter, and Dom had never kissed anyone who had tasted that good.  Never.

 

And perhaps Dom needed to love him.  Because together they were good.  It had all been good.

 

But that was finished now.

 

A lot had been said.  A lot had happened.  And Dom had reached breaking point.

 

And perhaps she was right.

 

The first time it happened, Dom knew that she had a hand in it...her and that publicist bitch.  He didn’t know what she said, but he had a pretty good idea.  He knew because Lij became distant.  Jittery.  He was distracted whenever they were together.  And Dom knew.  He knew that they’d read him the riot act.  And he was furious.  Furious at them for interfering.  Furious at Elijah for allowing them to manipulate him.  Furious at himself for not seeing this coming sooner.

 

Elijah had sobbed when Dom told him he was leaving.  When Dom had confronted him with his actions and told him to choose what was important.  To choose what mattered.

 

But it was hopeless.

 

Dom knew what Elijah would choose.  Lij had no choice.  He was confused and trapped.  He’d signed his soul away on that goddamn dotted line, and there was nothing...nothing he could do about it. 

 

For the next three to five years he was theirs.  Their puppet.  And that bitch pulled his strings any way she wanted...with his Mother’s blessing.

 

So Dom told Elijah he was leaving.  He felt evil.  He felt like scum.  He felt every tear that Elijah cried like a slap in the face.  But he had to pull back and think of himself for a moment.  Had to look at what this was doing to him.  At least that’s what he told himself.

 

This was a game he couldn’t play.  Not any more.

 

Elijah had sobbed and held Dom’s hand and begged him...pleaded with him not to go.  Not to leave.

 

Then Elijah had told Dom he loved him.  More than anything.  More than ever.  And that had been it.  Dom had stayed. 

 

The first time. 

 

That first time he’d decided to play their little games, confident that he’d win.  Love always won, didn’t it? That’s the way it was in the movies.

 

Then it had been Franka. 

 

It was all a ruse.  Another game.  A game set up because they had been too open with each other.  Too in love.  They let their guard down at some awards show and someone had caught it on camera.

 

Fucking cameras.

 

Oh man, Then the shit had hit the fan. 

 

It was simple, according to the Studio.  Elijah needed to find a girlfriend or they’d cut him loose before the damage got too bad.  They were adamant.  Immovable.  After all, they had millions invested here. That was all that mattered. The money.  What Elijah wanted, what he needed, didn’t exist.  He was no more than a commodity.

 

And then there was his mother. 

 

His Mother manipulated him like she always did, pulling every fucking trick in the book.  She played the ‘Family shame’ card.  She played the ‘Religion’ card.  Finally she had played the ‘Ungrateful brat- look at everything I sacrificed to get you where you are’ card, and that had been it. 

 

Lij couldn’t handle the guilt.  Lij could never handle guilt.

 

Good old Catholic guilt.  Won out every time.  And she knew just how to use it.

 

And so it had been Franka...who had agreed happily.  After all, she was after an agent and a break in the US.  Sweet deal for her really, get the guy, get the publicity, get the agent.  Simple.

 

Dom knew it was fake.  He knew from the beginning.  But he couldn’t help but be hurt by the photos.  The interviews.  The stolen kisses and ass-gropes that just happened to be caught by an ever watchful  pet photographer and leaked to a voracious press. 

But then it went too far.

 

These things always go too far.

 

And one night Elijah didn’t come home.  He just didn’t come home at all.  And Dom had sat there, in the darkness, crying into his tenth beer, telling himself it was all for show.  It was just a game.  But the next morning when Lij had come home, with last night’s clothes on, reeking of stale booze and her perfume, a hickey on his shoulder blade, Dom had known that the game had gone too far.  All he had to do was look into Elijah’s eyes, and he knew. 

 

And so he’d left. 

 

For the second time.

 

That time he actually made it out the door and to a motel.  He’d spent one night tossing and turning .  But when he’d opened the door the next morning, expecting room service, and had seen Lij standing there, his hair in disarray, his eyes red and tears still fresh on his cheeks, his resolve crumbled. 

 

Elijah was lost. 

 

He was lost. 

 

And Dom held him and loved him and showed him the way home.  And he thought that if they stayed down and lay low, there would be no more games.  No more reasons for them to jerk on the puppet’s strings.  Perhaps he would win this time. Quietly.  Without fanfare.  What the studio didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them, right?

 

Wrong.

 

Well, not technically wrong, because the studio had nothing to do with this morning.  The studio had nothing to do with why he was hailing a cab and tearfully giving the driver Mack’s address.

 

This was all her doing.

 

Mommy Dearest.

 

Bitch.

 

It amazed Dom how a Mother could have such a hold over her child.  Her adult child.  And how she clutched onto him like a Rottweiler with a bone.  Couldn’t let her meal ticket get away now, could we? 

 

Sitting in the cab, he wiped at the tears on his cheeks and laughed bitterly.

 

He’d left without turning around.  Because he knew if he’d taken one look at Lij’s face, he’d have to stay, and this would never end.  He’d spend the rest of his life apologising for being in love, and he just couldn’t do that.  He shouldn’t have to do that.

 

What a difference a few minutes makes to your life.

 

This morning they’d woken up in each other’s arms.  Dom never got sick of the feeling of Elijah pressed against his body. The little boy smell of his tousled hair.  The tiny sigh of contentment he made when he felt Dom kiss the back of his neck.

 

Dom had leaned over and whispered ‘Good Morning’ in Lij’s ear.

 

Elijah had sighed Dom’s name as he turned towards him, and kissed him.  They’d made slow, languid, lazy love, both still half asleep, each so familiar with the other’s body that they knew where and how to touch and stroke and kiss, and when the came together, they’d stayed locked in eachother’s arms, breathing in time, waking up slowly.

 

Until the door had flown open, and Elijah’s Mother had stalked in.

 

She’d glared at them, and Dom felt a brief silvery flash of fear wash over him.  He had never seen such powerful hatred, such disgust on anyone’s face before.  Elijah had struggled to disentangle himself from Dom,  before sitting upright and protesting that she had no right to barge into his room.

 

She’d rounded on him, screaming that as long as he was under her roof, he’d shut up and do what she said, no questions, no arguments.  Dom had been tempted for a moment to ask her whose money had actually paid for ‘her roof’, but the look of fear and shock on Elijah’s face had shut him up.  It wouldn’t do Lij any good for Dom to get into it with his Mother- especially when she was being this unreasonable.

 

Elijah’s mouth had shut like a trap, and he’d glared at her, his eyes filling with tears.  Then she’d turned on Dom.

 

“And get your filthy limey faggot ass out of my son’s bed and out of my house.”

 

For a moment, Dom had been speechless.  He’d known she didn’t like him.  They’d  never exchanged more than a few words in the past, his polite and friendly, hers terse.  Cold.  But he’d never experienced her fury.  He never thought she’d...

 

“What?”  The word had tumbled from his mouth involuntarily.

 

“You heard me.  Get the hell out.”

 

Dom had looked over at Elijah.  The colour had drained completely from his face, and he was staring at her, open mouthed. 

 

“Mom?”

 

She never took her eyes off  Dom, even when she’d told Elijah to shut up.  Dom had reached out for Elijah’s shaking hand..

 

“Don’t look at him.  Don’t touch him. Get up, get dressed and get out.”

 

“Now hang on a minute...” Dom had managed to pull his boxer shorts on under the sheets, and he’d climbed from the bed.

 

“You think he really loves you? “ She’d laughed, a harsh, humourless sound. “He doesn’t love you, he doesn’t know what love is.  He had a nice girl.  But you ruined that.  You think that he’d even look at you twice if he wasn’t trying to piss me off?  You think he knows what he wants?  What he needs?”

 

Dom had tried to think of something to say, but couldn’t.  He couldn’t answer her.  This was so unexpected.

 

“And you? You’re nothing without him! You think you have the career ahead of you that he does? Look at you. Of  course you don’t.  He’s got something.  Something special.  He could go all the way to the top, and you know what’s stopping him?”

 

She had walked right up to Dom so she was standing face to face with him.

 

“You.  You’re the millstone that’s going to drag him to the bottom where all the other Hollywood wannabe faggots are.  And you know what?  I’m not going to let you.  I invested my life in his career.  I sacrificed.  I struggled.  To get him to where he is now.  And he owes me.  So if you think he’s going to choose you...you have another thing coming.”

 

Dom had realised at that point that tears were streaming down his cheeks.  His hands had been shaking.  And all he could think was that Elijah should be saying something. Anything.  But he wasn’t.

 

“Lij?” he turned towards the bed, but Elijah wouldn’t look at him.  Wouldn’t meet his eye.  Couldn’t stop crying.

 

“Don’t talk to him.  He’s got nothing to say because he knows I’m right.   It’s over, Dominic, do you hear me?  If you loved him, if you really loved him, you’d walk away.  You’re nothing good for him.  You’ll ruin his career...do you think he’ll thank you? Do you think when all he can get are bit-parts in B-Grade TV shows because he’s that fag that used to be a big star so they hire him for the novelty value,  Do you think that he’ll come home to you every night and thank you for ruining his life?”

 

Dom hadn’t been able to hear her anymore.  Not all of what she was saying anyway. 

 

Was she right? 

 

Was he being selfish ? 

 

He knew what the Industry was like.  Despite the few Sir Ian’s out there, there were thousands more who came out and disappeared into the Hollywood wasteland.  Gay was not good business for the big studios.  If Lij couldn’t stand up to his Mother, how could he stand up to the studios and the backers?

 

“You know I’m right, don’t you?”  The question had cut through the fog, and he’d looked up at her again.

 

“Don’t you?”

 

Dom had looked back at Elijah crouched on the bed, curled into a ball.  All he’d wanted to do was go to him and hold him and stroke his hair until he stopped crying.  All he’d wanted to do was grab him and shake him and scream at him to stand up for himself.  To stand up for them.

 

But he hadn’t done any of that.

 

“Lij?”  It had been a whisper.  A plea.  But he’d received no answer.

 

He’d silently dressed, packed his bag, and walked to the door.  She watched him like a prison guard.

 

“You’re doing the right thing for him, Dominic.”  He’d heard the satisfaction in her words.  He still couldn’t find his own voice.  Couldn’t say anything.  Couldn’t say goodbye.

 

She’d turned to Elijah and ordered him to get dressed.  There was no emotion in her voice.  She could have been talking to the television.  She reminded him that they’d arranged a meeting today to discuss a script.  She’d read it and approved.  Always in control. Elijah had stumbled from the bed and pulled his jeans on.

 

Dom had walked to the door.

 

“Wait!”  It had been Elijah, but Dom hadn’t turned.  Even when he heard her order Elijah to stay where he was.  It was too late.  It was all too late.  Dom felt empty and cold.  He felt like he might throw up.

 

“Dom. Dommie, don’t...Please don’t go,  She didn’t mean it...really.  She doesn’t know anything about this.  About us.  Please...”

 

Dom slammed the door behind him.

 

‘Game over.’ he thought dully. ‘You win.’

 

 

-Kevswitchau 2002

 

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