Non-con sex. Unconsciousness. Threesome, het and slash sex.
Toward the end there's some philosophy.
Contains opinions, assumptions and situations that some might find offensive.
Medical issues are based on my experience with frostbite, information from the internet, and common
sense. They are pretty much correct, but I have ignored a thing or two. It is, however, a whole lot more accurate than "Forever Young."
This is entirely written, so you don't need to worry about whether it gets finished. However, while I certainly appreciate that not everyone gives feedback to every chapter (including me), if I don't get much of any positive feedback, I will probably lose interest in posting.
Rated: Series: NC-17 or E, Chapter 9: G
Type: RP het/slash
Disclaimer: This is fiction. And not intended even to be wise. While some of these characters may be based on real people, I don't personally know them. I made it all up out of my perverted little head.
No, I don't make any money at this.
Archive: No, please.
Feedback: Please feed me. Praise is lovely. Constructive criticism is valued. If you find nothing of value in it, though, please don't bother telling me. You wouldn't be the first person.
Beta: The wonderful elfellon111, whose attention to detail has inspired me to be a better writer.
A DomLijah Story
"Okay, according to Cleo, you're half God."
"Oh. I'm glad she straightened you out on that one."
He turned a serious blue gaze on her. "I'd already figured that out." Why did he care so much what she thought of him? Why did he - still - want her to put her arms around him, hold him, assure him that things were okay? She seemed a paragon, a goddess - Athena, perhaps, the grey-eyed huntress, whose virtue lay in her skill rather than her beauty. "Why didn't you tell me ... everything you've done?"
"Don't like to blow my own horn." Grin. "So I thought I'd let Su ... Cleo do it."
He laughed, delighted. She had been so serious. He was glad to see she had a sense of humor. He didn't question why, but it was important to him that she be as good personally as she was for a nurse.
"You saved my life," he said.
"Yes I did." Another grin. "Payment terms to be arranged later."
That one didn't strike him as funny. What kind of payment terms? Did she know? Did she realize he had money? He had asked Cleo, but she wasn't sure. "I don't think so," Cleo had said, but also she had told him that their benefactor had commented on the expensive car.
"I was kidding," she prompted.
He looked down at his hand, embarrassed. Fingernail suddenly between his teeth, he muttered, "Well, I don't really know you."
She sat down on the bed, took his other hand between hers. "You know everything you need to know about me," she said. "You know that I stopped for a car in a snowstorm, and offered strangers my car and my friend's home. You know that I have a friend who took you in without question. You know that I have some common sense, and that I know how to look things up on the internet." She cocked her head, grinned questioningly. "You know I take angels seriously. You may or may not know that I have a daughter who has also stayed up all night to help take care of you." He glanced up, startled. Did her daughter know?
She read his thoughts, right there on the surface of his face. Pretended that she had seen something else. "You'll see her later. She's sleeping.
"Right now, since you're here on this bed for the duration, what do you want to do? I can bring the little TV in here, we could play cards. Maybe you want to just go back to sleep. Oh, hey, I have Magic cards with me."
That was unexpected. Few older women play Magic. "Yes. Let's play Magic!"
"Okay. I don't have any new decks. But I have some nicely balanced ones. Older cards. I always play white with some blue. What do you play?" Ellen was rummaging through her luggage.
"Green, maybe? Everything is Artifacts, now."
"Umhum, spoils it. This deck is primarily green. That's what Becky plays. Go ahead and look at it."
Elijah fanned out the cards. "Hey. This one's rare!"
"Yeah. These are old. I don't buy them any more, but I started getting them when they first came out."
They played for a couple hours. Talking. Enjoying each other.
"You like science fiction?" she asked, thinking it a natural area to explore when playing Magic.
"Not particularly. I like all kinds of genre."
She smiled at his use of the word. Very educated, she thought. "I used to read more widely," she said. "Romances and historical fiction and mysteries. But I discovered that what brought me the most satisfaction was science fiction, and there's enough of it that I'm not likely to ever run out."
"I'm really more interested in psychological romances."
"Like Jane Eyre and Pride and Prejudice?"
"Yes," he grinned. "Exactly."
"I do like those, too, actually. Things that were written around the turn of the century. The twentieth century," she amended. "What about this kind of thing?" she pointed to a card. "Magic and witchcraft type of story."
"No, not much into that. Too unreal. Just seems to me like a waste of time."
"Mmm. I can see that. I used to like it but I got tired of it. All began to seem alike. Young girl discovers she has a talent for magic. After narrowly escaping being burned at the stake by pseudo-catholics, she turns out to be the key to righting some injustice."
He giggled. "That's about right. Don't forget the big battle with decadent knights who just want to get in her pants."
She laughed, and sternly repressed a blush that wanted to start on her cheeks. Pants around here I'd like to get into, she thought.
"Actually," she said, "I don't much care for the way they paint religion. I know a lot of people do like it, but to me religion is both more serious and much bigger than that."
He looked up, studied her face for a moment, while she resolutely kept her eyes on her cards. She didn't want to force a discussion of religion if he didn't want to. "Maybe that's what I don't like about it," he said finally.
"Go," she said. "Your turn."
He drew a card, played a land. "Go." Then as she played, he said, "My friend is into Buddhism. He meditates a lot."
"I personally think that everyone of any belief should meditate. Even if they just do it for their health. Go."
Grinning like a Cheshire cat, he played a Wild Growth, tapped nine mana-worth of land and played a Vitalizing Wind. "Stop me now, if you can!"
"Ew, I can't. Play again?"
"Yes. Why do you think that everyone should meditate?"
Ellen hesitated while she shuffled her cards. How strong were his Catholic beliefs at this point in his life? How much had he been influenced by Dom's Buddhism? And what direction did that take, anyway? With a deep breath, she plunged in.
"I believe that everyone is connected to the universe - to God, if you will - at all times, but that our brains are too busy to hear the incoming information. Call it inspiration. It takes meditation to teach us to hear and use that input."
His hands stilled for a long moment as he thought about it. Finally, he just said, "Interesting," and finished shuffling his cards. She decided not to pursue that at all. They played in silence a few minutes, except for the challenges of the game, but he wanted to connect more with her. He wanted to know this woman who made him feel soft and safe and warm. She was enigmatic still, and he wanted to bring her down off the pedestal a little. Dammit, what he wanted was for her to wrap her arms around him! He knew he was good at conversation, making others feel at ease, but at the moment he felt awkward and ... and, well, young. What would he say to a stranger? Talk about what you know. "Know anything about music?"
"Oh, not much. I like just about anything except jazz. My daughter has some that I like and some that I hate. Let's see, I like John Denver and the Kingston Trio". She knew he was an expert at all kinds of music. "Why don't you educate me?"
They talked about music for awhile. Then philosophy, then movies. He slyly questioned her about various movie stars, to see how familiar she was with famous names.
"How about Jack Nicholson?"
"Gag," she said. "Prejudiced old goat. I recognize a lot of names, but off the top of my head," she hesitated, looking through her limited repertoire, "I could name Harrison Ford and Mark Hamill."
Have you seen Lord of the Rings? But he didn't ask it. If she didn't recognize him, he didn't want her to.
Finally, he laid back. "I think I'll sleep now," he said, closing his eyes, realizing as he did so the deep fatigue he had been ignoring.
"Turn over, I'll rub your back 'till you're asleep." He complied willingly, turning his back and snuggling into the bedclothes, the 'safe' feeling returning strongly.
She dug gently into his neck and shoulders, caressing the muscle, amazed by the trusting way he seemed to melt into her touch. After a minute she just gently stroked up and down his back, softly and fondly, feeling the skin, loving him, until he slept.
"How are things in here?" Ellen asked, taking in the spread-eagled form on Mary's bed.
"Progressing nicely. He's moving around more."
"What do you estimate his temperature?"
"Yeah. That's just about when Guestroom slugged me."
"How's your shoulder, by the way?"
Ellen smiled sheepishly. Souvenir, she thought. "It's all right. He's asleep again now."
Mary reached out to touch Dom's face, brushing his hair back. "I still say he looks terribly familiar. I just can't place where I've seen him."
Ellen considered for a moment, rather than distracting the thought immediately. At this point she didn't care if the whole thing came out. Her goal of interacting with Elijah without his being 'onstage' had already been accomplished. Was that what my goal was? I thought it was for objectivity. "He is cute," she commented. "If you like the type."
"Yeah. You and your good-looking boy over there."
"Mm." Ellen didn't put too much emotion into that. Did she? "I do begin to see some reason for detachment between nurse and patient.
"Has this one been awake at all?" she asked.
"Oh, didn't I tell you that he sat right up straight hours ago?" At Ellen's shake of the head she said, "That's probably what brought on the fibrillation. He hasn't tried to sit up since then, but he's had his eyes open some. I'm not sure whether it qualifies as 'awake'."
Perhaps awareness of voices roused him. Dom stirred, his hand tugging against the restraint, and suddenly he was looking at them. Mary went all ga-ga and motherly. Or something. Started making inane soothing noises. "It's okay. You're safe now." Etcetera. Ellen laughed to herself and went back to the guestroom.
Elijah was still sleeping. He was so beautiful; long eyelashes against perfect cheek. She went around the bed and lay down beside him. Very gently so as not to wake him, she curled her arm around him and propped up on her other arm to just enjoy watching his face; little lip twitches, eye movements under the lids as he dreamed.
After a while, Mary came in. "Bedroom's gone back to sleep," she said. And then, emphatically, "Where have I seen him before?"
Elijah had been sleeping lightly, was wakened by the door and voice, and registered the question. Quite evidently she didn't know. He opened his eyes to look at this person.
Mary just stopped, caught in that blue charisma. Ellen grunted.
"Startling, isn't it?" she couldn't resist commenting.
Mary put a hand on the dresser to steady herself. Ellen saw her eyes shift to the right, collecting up loose facts from her unconscious. She looked down at Ellen accusingly.
"You knew," Elijah said, deadpan. He wasn't sure how he felt about that. Kind of exposed, kind of sad, and yet there was a warm gladness that she knew who he was.
"So why didn't you tell me?" Mary demanded.
"I needed to make sure somebody around here was thinking clearly."
Suddenly Mary started laughing. Threw her head back and whooped. Ellen knew immediately what she was thinking. "It isn't funny!" she cried, dismayed.
Gales of laughter from Mary, tears rolling down her cheeks. "You knew all along!" she gasped out. "No wonder ..." She was laughing too hard to think of anything more to say.
Then Ellen was laughing too, while continuing to protest, "It wasn't funny!"
Elijah asked, "What wasn't funny?" Ellen bit a finger to try to stop the rather hysterical laughter. Mary just went with it. "I should have been here!" She guffawed.
"No, you really shouldn't! Go away."
Mary regained her balance, wobbled toward the door. "Yes, I'll go away." She opened the door but turned back for a parting shot. "You gonna tell him?" she asked. She didn't wait for an answer, just went out, closing the door behind her.