The point of the story is revealed here.
There are religious opinions and propositions that many may find offensive.
Quote from chapter:
He startled her with another reference to that first awakening.
"You are an angel," he said.
She smiled a sad-sweet smile. "I told you that."
"Yeah, but I mean it more than you did." Then, with a look of almost
comical earnestness he added, "I want to be an angel."
Laughing, she chucked him under the chin, looked directly into his
eyes. "Sweet Elijah. You never had a choice about that."
Rated: Series: NC-17 or E, Chapter 18: G
Series: 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.
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, who has taken a middling story and made it, well, as excellant as it can be.
A DomLijah Story
Back to the Future
She could almost hear a voice in her head saying, "It is finished." She felt like she had participated in something which had needed doing, completed a circle. Egotistical bullshit, of course. But whether she had a purpose here other than pure lifesaving, it was over now. Time to let go. Time to push them back into their own destinies without her.
Dawn was breaking, the window was lightening; Elijah was snoring softly - probably what had wakened her. She propped up on an elbow and looked at him. It was somehow strange to see him doing something so human as snoring, his mouth open, lower lip lightly trembling, a glimpse of pink within. She squelched a sudden impulse to kiss him - let him sleep. She studied again the lines of his face as an artist would, the cheek hollow was like this from this angle; the straight nose had just the slightest rise on the tip. The height of the forehead had exactly this relationship to the rest of his face. His hair had just that tiny touch of red to it. Her hand had reached out to stroke down his neck before she thought about it, and again she stopped herself.
She looked across at Dom, who was turned facing them, his hand on Elijah's arm. Such a
sweet gesture, like a child reaching out to a parent for love, or conversely like a parent making reassuring contact with a timorous child. His face, too, was relaxed and peaceful. May they always be so, she thought. Something so precious between them that was vibrantly alive even as they slept. She wondered how many couples (how few?) ever achieved that. 'Who wouldn't want to be loved like that?' A comment someone else had made. An example to the rest of us.
While still drinking in the tender beauty in front of her, her brain began to work on preparing the morning. Call the lawyer, call the ambulance - no. Considering how much they had been up and active already, there was no reason not to simply drive them in to the hospital. Breakfast, baths, clothes. Should she send them in to the bathtub or insist on another bed-bath? Hmm ... No question which was more fun. Also, should she call the hospital and try to get things prepared? The advantage to that would be beds ready sooner, but she would have more difficulty insisting on certain things over the phone than in person. Things like having the same room.
Elijah woke to feel his arm being lifted, a warm wet caress stroking it. He opened his eyes to see Ellen with washcloth in hand and a basin of water beside her. Clean freak, he thought, indulgently. He smiled at her and her face softened, warming his heart in return. He felt a stirring on the other side and turned his head to see Dom reaching for the washcloth.
"Let me," Dom said, casually, as though he expected no resistance. Elijah turned back to Ellen, fearing another power struggle, but Ellen just smiled and turned over the cloth, then picked up a towel and dried his arm. Being loved by both of them. He relaxed, closed his eyes and enjoyed it. When they were done he would wash Dom. But he didn't keep his eyes closed. Watching their hands on his body, all their attention centered on him while working together as a team, was just as enjoyable as the physical sensations.
Dom's caresses were like promises of more to come later. But something about that thought combined with the sun shining brightly in the window made him remember. She means for us to go to the hospital now! He looked up at her in sudden awareness of the immediacy of leaving, parting, waking from a dream which had given him refuge. "What's the point in going now?" he asked.
Ellen stroked his cheek, and he could see his own reluctance reflected in her face. "Have you been hearing Dom cough?" she asked reprovingly. "You both need to be thoroughly checked over." She smiled sadly, "And to answer your other question, Now is the right time."
He could feel the gift fading, like a delicate flower with which he had been endowed; its time past, the bloom withered, petals falling. It was about to be gone. But somewhere from inside his mind a voice seemed to say, "The seed is forming. It will flourish." Cold comfort, but comfort nevertheless.
Dom felt like a pincushion. He figured that they must have run every test that existed, drawn his blood until there wasn't enough left to keep his skin pink, poured him full of every medication, from that which was necessary to that which wouldn't hurt. Even now he could hear Ellen's voice in the hall, discussing possibilities with some doctor. "I hope she loses this one," he commented to Elijah.
"Huh?" Elijah wasn't following his train of thought.
"I hope that whatever they're discussing now it doesn't result in another needle."
"Oh." Elijah's laugh in response was so sweet, full of humor and kindness. No bitterness. No bitterness at all. He realized abruptly that there was a bitterness in himself, and he didn't know what it was from. Not really over the needles, not really with Ellen, who had fought with determination and patience to get them a room together, nor with her intrusion into their lives. He was glad it was almost over, that it would return to being just him and Elijah. Yet he felt somehow that the honeymoon was over, on several levels. That it was back to work now, with their relationship merely the foundation of their lives, on which they built and from which they lived. And there was something sad about it, as though he had missed something, hadn't fully embraced it while it was alive and now it existed only in memory.
"I think they're just talking about test results." Elijah was closer to the door, and could catch some of the conversation.
"I love you," Dom replied fiercely, irrelevantly.
Elijah, as always, heard what wasn't spoken and he smiled at Dom. Just for Dom. Just the two of them existing in the light of Elijah's eyes. It warmed his blood, what little I've got left. Whatever turn life would take now, they would walk the path together. And something clicked in his head, the answer to a question he didn't know he had. But suddenly Ellen outside the door was a symbol of something, like a guard. He wrestled with the image, wanting to puzzle out the intuitive vision. It was as though, for one thing, that she fended off the unwelcome elements, the intrusions on privacy. Just as she had told Cleo on no uncertain terms that the doctors would know just who they were dealing with, and then had fought equally hard to keep anyone else from knowing. He couldn't regret signing the Power of Attorney at Elijah's urging, even though it had probably resulted in more needles. She stands outside the door like a filter, letting in what is good and keeping out potential harm. Was that his own thought? He suddenly saw her as representative of the fans, Elijah's and his own. No doubt there were many, possibly hundreds, who would do exactly as she had done, if they could - gladly and somewhat innocently take the physical and emotional pleasure which was offered, but stand to defend them with all of her strength. I honestly think she would defend us with her life. It was a surprising and humbling thought.
So Dom had pneumonia and Elijah had mono. Strain on other systems expected to correct themselves with bed rest. It could be worse, by a lot. She had insisted that they be kept at the hospital for at least a week. They needed the rest; if they went home they surely wouldn't get it. Dom's family was insisting that he be sent home to recover and she really felt that they needed to stay together right now. Once she had that settled, the next question was whether her own affairs could be put on hold for a week so that she could stay here. Even if they could, should she stay? She wanted to protect them, but did they require it? In fact, the feeling of finality was becoming stronger and stronger, and to tell the truth she felt, more and more, that it was time to let go. Except for a need to wrap things up, somehow. Find the meaning in it all.
It was Elijah who found the key. She was sitting in the chair between the beds, Elijah sleeping, she and Dom reading. She looked up at Elijah just as he opened his eyes. He studied her for a minute, very much as he had done the first time, and like the first time he said, "You're beautiful."
Tears sprang unexpectedly to her eyes. She thought of saying, "It's nothing compared to you," but knew he would be hurt if she diluted his compliment like that. Then she thought of the radiance of the love he shared with Dom, and knew that nothing was more beautiful than that.
He startled her with another reference to that first awakening. "You are an angel," he said.
She smiled a sad-sweet smile. "I told you that."
"Yeah, but I mean it more than you did." Then, with a look of almost comical earnestness he added, "I want to be an angel."
Laughing, she chucked him under the chin, looked directly into his eyes. "Sweet Elijah. You never had a choice about that."
He cocked his head to the side. "What do you mean?"
"Well, I did say we're all angels." She was hedging, and she knew it. There was something to be said here, and she wasn't sure what.
"But I mean more than that," he insisted, "and so did you."
They locked eyes for a moment, searched each other's faces as if answers could be read from sheer intensity. Finally, Ellen broke off, looked down at her hands in her lap, and began talking.
"I think you were meant to play Frodo long before you can imagine. I think there was never any chance that movie wouldn't be made, or that you wouldn't get the part."
She looked up at him again, this time her eyes held the authority with which she counseled clients during a card reading. "You are the ringbearer, you know. And perhaps the Ring, too, though not in an evil way. Or at least, the evil isn't in you."
He was shaking his head, his eyebrows arched in a cross between annoyance and amusement.
"It's just a part," he said. "I'm not Frodo. I'm not all that much like Frodo. And I certainly...."
She interrupted him. "That's not what I mean."
"Okay, what do you mean?"
"First, like the ring, there are a tremendous number of people who desire you." She stopped to change tracks, made a face. "This makes perfect sense in my head but how to say it so that you understand what I see?" She blew out her breath, exasperated. "I would suppose that you see me as a good person. In general I see myself as a good person. But there is a wicked corner of my heart that would have me kidnap you and carry you off to some secret place and keep you prisoner. I guess what I mean is that you bring out the best and the worst in people. We desire you."
"Ellen..." His interruption was tentative and shy and brought her up short.
"Am I just a pretty face?"
"God, no!" She was surprised that he could think that. "Again the Ring, Sweetheart. A pretty enough thing, but it wasn't for the simple beauty of it that it was desired. There's something that shines out of you - your personality, your kindness, everything that you are is right there." Again she reached to touch him, laid the back of her fingers against his cheek. "You're fun, you're clever, you're sweet, and ... something else. And it makes people just want to touch you, to somehow be a part of that."
He smiled, able to accept that, at least tentatively, because he liked her wanting to touch him. But then he frowned, thinking of broader consequences. "I can't just have everybody touch me," he declared, a little petulantly.
"No, you can't. And that's part of where 'ringbearer' comes in. You're going to have to put up with a lot of people wanting what they can't have." And wanting to fulfill them, to give to them what they want. But she didn't say that aloud. Had he learned that lesson? "That's part of life, of course. But having ridden that horse myself ..." She shook her head, sympathizing with all the people who craved the intimacy that she was enjoying.
"Many years ago, there was a tree I drove by on the way to work every day. And in the spring it was so pretty. It had pink blossoms, if I remember right. Sometimes I would stop the car and just look at it; and I wished so much that it were my tree, growing in my yard. One day though, when I stopped to look at it I realized something." She looked over at him. "I wouldn't have enjoyed that tree any more if it was in my yard. It was mine to look at just as it was. Maybe that's the lesson to be learned by people who love you all over the world. You belong to all of us. We all enjoy you." She grinned. "Just so long as no one tries to cut down the tree and drag it home with them."
"They'd have to go through me," Dom growled behind her. She turned, startled. Dominic had put aside his magazine and was listening to their conversation. "Tell him about Buddha," he said.
Ellen checked her e-mail. Two letters, one from Dom, one from Lij. She smiled, just looked at the listing, waiting to be opened. What were they up to now? What would they have to tell her? There had been daily exchanges at first, when Elijah told her everything about his projects and plans. While he was still in the hospital, they had talked on the phone three times a day. The phone conversations gave way to more profound written thoughts exchanged by internet, love deepening into friendship, mutual respect growing. Dom had told him about their Buddha/Christ conversation, and the three of them had discussed the ins and outs of it until, quite suddenly, Elijah understood it, and then didn't want to discuss it anymore. Bit by bit, the exchanges became more mundane, a mere exchange of information, not understanding. And month by month, the letters thinned out. She hadn't heard from him in a while. She missed him; bitterly at times. But the growing infrequency of his letters meant that he was going forward. That he had learned what she had to teach and was moving on. And now, hearing from both of them in one day?
Musing, she clicked first on Dom's letter.
It's been a hell of a year. I think I miss you more and more. I was so mad at you then, and had no appreciation of the sheer fuckin' simplicity of it. I wish we could just go back to that day, and stay there. I really thought when we came out to the public it would solve all the problems. Jesus was I stupid.
I know you always want to know How's the relationship? It's fine. Nothing's gonna ever shake that. And we get a lot of support from places I wouldn't have expected it. But then there's the death threats. Has he told you about that? I know he hasn't written to you a lot lately. He's afraid of something, I don't know what. But he thinks about you. Just this morning he said, "I just wanted to be an angel, not a Buddha." I asked him what in hell that was supposed to mean and he said he just wanted to help people, not be an example. I don't think I want to know what that means. He's sad all the time lately.
We're living in New Zealand now, did you know? We got the house and we're talking about having a big Commitment Ceremony. It seemed kind of sappy at first, but Lighe is really excited about it, and I'll do anything that makes him happy. I hope you come. I really would like to see you.
Write to him, will you? Something, I don't know, positive. Get him out of himself. See you here for our CC, oh, within a year I think.
Have I made a mistake? Should I have intruded on their lives more? Should I have given up my own comfortable-but-dull life (huge sacrifice that would have been) and gone with them?
She remembered when she left the hospital, she and Elijah both with tears running down their cheeks. Elijah had said one last time, "Don't go. Stay with us, be part of our family."
She held his head between her hands, their faces close and said, "If you want to be a trio, find some young girl who can give you kids. God knows, I wish it could be me, but it can't." She grinned self-derisively. "The only thing I'm really good for is my great wisdom and experience. And you don't need that."
"I'd like that," he replied quietly.
"No. Whether I'm all that wise or not, you need to make your own mistakes, and acquire your own wisdom.
Dom shook his head wonderingly. "I couldn't do that," he said.
She went over to Dom's bed, held his head in her hands as she had Elijah's. "I love him
enough to let him go," she said very seriously. "Promise me that you'll love him enough to never let him go."
Suddenly uncomfortable with her intensity, he dropped his eyes. "I'll never let him go," he said.
Dom will keep him safe if anyone can.
You scared me(Elijah's letter began). When you started talking about me that way. You know, the Buddha and Christ stuff and the 'make each day count' lectures. I didn't know how to tell you, or even what I was afraid of. Maybe I'm beginning to understand. Anyway, once you're confronted with what you fear, face it down and live through it, it's less frightening. At least I feel like I can talk to you again, so I must be understanding something, right? I haven't told Dom this yet. I'm going to.
He knows about the death threats, how could he not? I didn't tell you because ... well, it's hard to say why. I didn't want to worry you? That would be true, but it wasn't the reason. Maybe I just didn't want you to come here, and I think you would have. My Goddess who walks on water. I need to deal with this myself. No, *we* need to deal with it, Dom and me. I'm going to tell him. I realized that if something happened to me it would kill him, not having known. We're together. What happens to one happens to both. You knew that, didn't you?
I guess I'm not making much sense. Someone tried to kill me last month. I was out, looking in store windows, and this car came right at me, as though it was out of control. But I saw the driver's face. He meant to get me. I got away (obviously) and nobody knows about it but you. I was afraid to tell Dom, but I've decided he needs to know.
Don't worry about me. Please. We'll be all right.
This is what you meant, isn't it? About wisdom and experience? I've never forgotten that. I couldn't understand why you didn't stay with me, when I could see that you wanted to. But I think I understand now. I've learned a lot this year, most of it I didn't want to know, but I guess I'm glad.
The thing I've really learned is this: Take each day for the joy it can give. And hold on to the memories of joys past, but leave them in the past. Don't put any faith in tomorrow. Plan for it, prepare for it, but don't count on it for happiness.
I have everything I need. I have Sbloms and the hope of a life together, that we're planning and building. And I have that one wonderful day that I met you, engraved in my heart. There may be fame ahead, there may be death. I can face either one now, knowing that all I have to do is live today the best way I know how.
Ellen sat back, the tears on her cheeks unheeded. She would always love him, always worry over him. But as she hit 'reply', her mind composing a response that was woman to man, adult to adult, rather than teacher to student, she was proud of making that teacher obsolete.