title: lullaby
author: annie oates
fandom: lotr|rpsf
pairing: dominic monaghan/elijah wood friendship.
rating: g
archive: ask.
disclaimers: not real. not mine. deny everything.
warnings: rpf, gen, death.
notes: The book lij is reading is lullaby: a novel by chuck palahniuk.]
summery: dom gets a sign.
feedback: always welcome.



Elijah is at the counter, drinking Dr. Pepper and trying to figure out what makes Carl Streator tick. He doesn't understand why Carl isn't terrified... Lij can barely breathe. And Helen is so very sharp. He rereads her last comment and can almost feel her words cutting through this fog of fear that's wrapped around his mind. He knows he's missing something, something integral to the plot, and thinks about a woman's soft voice murmuring the poem to him. Carefully giving time to the words and taking away his own. Dom stalks into the kitchen, smelling at the air and Lij jumps... bangs his knee on the counter-top and swears.

Dom doesn't stop sniffing. He rummages through cabinets, opens the fridge up. Frowns and pulls the unit out, sticking his head in the space behind it. Elijah lays the book on the counter, words spread open on the tile. He knows in ten years the pages will fall out because of that, but he doesn't care.

"Dom?"

"Hmm?" Dom doesn't bother looking at him, concentrating on the contents of the junk drawer.

"What are you looking for?"

"Cookie dough."

Elijah isn't sure he heard that right. "In the drawer?"

"I can smell it." He pauses then and looks up. "Can't you smell it, 'lijah?"

Elijah closes his eyes and breathes through his nose. A faint smell of scrambled eggs and new book comes to him, but nothing else.

He shakes his head. "Sorry."

Dom grumbles. "It's got to be here somewhere. No matter where I'm at, I can smell it."

He keeps pulling open drawers and doors. "It's funny... it doesn't even really smell like cookie dough. It smells like what I remember cookie dough smelling like."

Dom sniffs again, it's mostly vanilla extract and the promise of chocolate chips. "It smells like my childhood, Lij. Like my..."

Dom drops the box of trash bags and grabs at the phone. He has to hang up three times before he gets the long string of numbers right. He looks at the clock, he'll be waking people up but he has to. Has to know.

"Da? Sorry to be calling so late, I need to talk to Mum."

Elijah watches Dom. Watches his worried face. Is looking at his eyes and thinking they look like they've been polished when the light fades from them. Lij doesn't get up until Dom's legs fold under him and he's leaning crookedly against the cabinets.

Elijah doesn't know how he knows, but he does. He takes the phone from Dom's cold hand and says, "I'm sorry, he'll call you back. Don't worry, I'll take care of him. I'm so sorry, sir." Before pressing the 'end' button with his thumb.

Dom is quiet and Elijah wishes he knew the words to the poem.