Dom/Xander fic, part 24
Still no cable Internet. But there is Xom. Oh, there is Xom.
Part 24 of "A Critique of Pure Reason", previous parts here.
***
Viggo drives the crappiest cars and Dom can never understand it. This one has a broken radio and no AC, and what the hell is the point of that? Particularly when you're a goddamn movie star, your posters in the rooms of teenage girls throughout the world, and theoretically rolling in cash. Why have money if you're not spending it?
When Dom glances over, Viggo is driving with this intense kind of concentration, this unworldly calm, and Dom wonders, not for the first time, if Viggo's attained some kind of higher Zen consciousness or something, and this is why the lack of AC doesn't bother him.
But then Dom asks him why the fuck he drives this piece of shit and Viggo responds by saying, in all seriousness, "This car is a poem." And Dom remembers that it's not Zen. It's that Viggo is completely fucking insane.
Viggo doesn't ask any questions or say anything for the first twenty minutes of the drive, and Dom doesn't feel like talking. It's quiet without the radio. There's just the whirring of the wheels and the sounds of traffic and the wind rushing past the open windows. When Dom glances into the backseat, Hannah's fallen asleep, her face quiet and her breathing deep and even.
Dom turns back around to face the front and glances at Viggo. "You go to vampire law firms often?" he asks finally, breaking the silence.
"Nah," Viggo says. "Haven't had a spell go wrong for years."
"So if the antennae were by accident, what was the spell *supposed* to do?" Dom asks. Viggo opens his mouth to explain, but Dom interrupts. "No, wait, you know what? I don't want to know."
"The antennae are quite beautiful," Viggo muses. "Golden. And sensitive. Soft like flower petals."
"Really," Dom says flatly.
"I think he should keep them," Viggo continues. "But Orlando says they tickle."
"Well, make sure you take pictures," Dom says, turning to look out the window again.
Viggo is quiet for a few more minutes. "You've had a rough couple of days," he observes finally. Dom nods slowly without looking at him. Streetlights flicker by the car and the moon, nearly full, is dull and yellow over the city. "Does Billy know you met someone?" Viggo asks conversationally.
Dom shrugs slowly, feeling tired and listless and sad. "I doubt Billy would care," he says. He doesn't wait for Viggo to respond. "Besides, the guy's dead." Dom rests his head on the window frame, letting the breeze whip at his hair.
"Is anyone ever really dead?" Viggo asks softly.
"Yes," Dom says dully. He closes his eyes against the wind. "Sometimes people are really fucking dead."
***
The next morning Dom is woken by the ringing of the phone. Well, technically it's the next afternoon, but morning for Dom usually lasts until about 2 pm, so whatever. He knocks the cordless phone off its perch when he tries to grab it, and it takes him a minute to fumble it out of the pile of clothes on the floor, his eyes half closed and bleary.
"What?" he mumbles into the receiver.
It's Hannah. "I want to see this crater," she says, without prelude.
Dom sighs and lets his head drop back onto his pillow. "Why?" he asks, not much caring.
"Because I want to," Hannah says. "I'm coming over."
"I'm not going back to that f...." Dom starts, but Hannah's rung off. Dom drops the phone on the floor, rolls over and goes back to sleep. He's just so tired, and it doesn't seem worth getting up. Maybe ever again.
He staggers back to consciousness when someone starts pounding on the door. Groggy and out of it, Dom goes to answer it, just in his boxers. He rubs gunk out of his eye as he pulls the door open.
"You're not dressed," Hannah says.
Dom runs a hand through his hair, making it stand on end. "Did you wake me up just to give me shit?"
"No," Hannah says. "I woke you up to go to this Hellmouth place. Where they made all the Slayers." She pushes past him and into the house.
"I don't want to go there," Dom says, staring at her. His feet are cold on the wood floor, and he absently moves to scratch his left ankle with his right foot. "That place is dangerous."
"How can I be a Slayer if I've never been to a Hellmouth?" Hannah asks, like this is an obvious question.
"I don't know," Dom says. "Just... be one. Don't be stupid. And how do you know all this Hellmouth stuff anyway?"
"It's in the pamphlet," Hannah says. "C'mon, Dom. I want to see this place."
"No," Dom says. "I'm not going."
"Fine," Hannah says. "I'll just go by myself."
"Fine," Dom shoots back. "No! Wait, you can't do that, that's way too dangerous." Hannah smirks at him. Dom sighs. "Fine. I'll go with you." Hannah smirks more. "But you're driving," Dom says, and goes to get dressed.
***
It's cloudy on the drive, and this makes Dom nervous. But the clouds aren't the dark black of the storm that had chased Xander, just the ordinary dull gray of an overcast day, extending far in either direction. Dom feels tired and dull and gray himself.
Hannah talks away as Dom leans his head back against the seat and closes his eyes. He lets her chatter wash over him like water, not quite paying attention.
"Your friend," she says. "The one who died. He was a Watcher, right?"
"Hmm?" Dom asks without opening his eyes.
"A Watcher," she says again.
"What's that?" he asks. Hannah gives an exasperated sigh. "I didn't get a pamphlet, okay, Hannah? God."
"Watchers train Slayers," she says. "And do research and stuff. Every Slayer gets her own Watcher to work with. Or they used to, anyway."
"Oh," Dom says. "Then yeah, I guess he probably was."
He hears Hannah shift in her seat. "Too bad he died," she says softly after a minute. "He could've been my Watcher."
"Yeah," Dom says dryly. "Too bad he died."
"You know what I mean," Hannah says. And then, after a moment, "Sorry."
"Yeah," Dom says shortly. He opens his eyes and looks out the window. They're taking a different road to the crater, a more roundabout route, since the way he and Xander had gone is still washed out. He doesn't recognize anything along this road, and that makes him sort of grateful. "What about that Slayer school they're starting?" Dom says. "You could go to that."
"Yeah," Hannah says sarcastically. "An all-girl's boarding school overseas. That's, like, my dream come true."
"I bet there'd be pillow fights in your underwear," Dom says. "At least, that's how I always imagine it." Hannah punches him. "OW! Fuck, don't *do* that." He grabs his arm, rubbing it. That fucking hurts.
"Stop giving me reasons to hit you, if you want me to stop," she says. Then points at the road ahead. "Look, there it is."
Dom looks ahead to see the crater, familiar now, gaping in front of them. He expects to feel all the hairs standing up on the back of his neck, goose bumps breaking out on his arms, but nothing happens. He stares at the giant hole in the ground, thinking about how eerie it had been, but this time he feels nothing at all. He shakes his head slightly, looks down at his arm, rubs the back of his neck, but still doesn't feel anything. Disneyland would be creepier. Strange.
Hannah opens her door and gets out of the car, dust kicking up under her feet. He follows her, walking to the edge of the crater.
"I thought you said it'd feel creepy," Hannah says, staring down into the rubble.
Dom shrugs. "I don't know. It did before."
As they stand on the edge of the crater, the sun sinks below the level of the gray clouds that still stretch overhead. They are suddenly awash in the orange-red light of late afternoon, the sun in the space between the clouds and ocean, transforming the dull of the afternoon into golden color.
Dom blinks in the light. "We should get out of here before the sun sets."
Hannah glances over at him. "We've still got, like, an hour. I want to look around." She starts to walk off, circling around the crater. Dom follows her, kicking at some of the rocks underfoot.
They've been walking for about fifteen minutes when Hannah suddenly grabs Dom's arm and stops walking abruptly, freezing in place. "What?" Dom says, looking up to follow her gaze.
There is a big rock beside the crater, a boulder about half Dom's height. It is right between them and the sun, black and silhouetted against the horizon. And someone is sitting on it, a man. The sunlight is bright around the edges of his body, catching in his dark hair, making a halo around his shoulders and head. He is black within this halo, a shadow whose features Dom cannot make out.
The figure is casually throwing pebbles into the crater, with the lazy motions of someone putting in time on a Sunday afternoon. He throws one and pauses, turning towards them, his movements still calm and sure, relaxed. Hannah's fingers clench painfully on Dom's arm, tensing up. Dom's heart is racing.
"Hey, Dom," Xander's voice says.
***
TBC...
Part 24 of "A Critique of Pure Reason", previous parts here.
***
Viggo drives the crappiest cars and Dom can never understand it. This one has a broken radio and no AC, and what the hell is the point of that? Particularly when you're a goddamn movie star, your posters in the rooms of teenage girls throughout the world, and theoretically rolling in cash. Why have money if you're not spending it?
When Dom glances over, Viggo is driving with this intense kind of concentration, this unworldly calm, and Dom wonders, not for the first time, if Viggo's attained some kind of higher Zen consciousness or something, and this is why the lack of AC doesn't bother him.
But then Dom asks him why the fuck he drives this piece of shit and Viggo responds by saying, in all seriousness, "This car is a poem." And Dom remembers that it's not Zen. It's that Viggo is completely fucking insane.
Viggo doesn't ask any questions or say anything for the first twenty minutes of the drive, and Dom doesn't feel like talking. It's quiet without the radio. There's just the whirring of the wheels and the sounds of traffic and the wind rushing past the open windows. When Dom glances into the backseat, Hannah's fallen asleep, her face quiet and her breathing deep and even.
Dom turns back around to face the front and glances at Viggo. "You go to vampire law firms often?" he asks finally, breaking the silence.
"Nah," Viggo says. "Haven't had a spell go wrong for years."
"So if the antennae were by accident, what was the spell *supposed* to do?" Dom asks. Viggo opens his mouth to explain, but Dom interrupts. "No, wait, you know what? I don't want to know."
"The antennae are quite beautiful," Viggo muses. "Golden. And sensitive. Soft like flower petals."
"Really," Dom says flatly.
"I think he should keep them," Viggo continues. "But Orlando says they tickle."
"Well, make sure you take pictures," Dom says, turning to look out the window again.
Viggo is quiet for a few more minutes. "You've had a rough couple of days," he observes finally. Dom nods slowly without looking at him. Streetlights flicker by the car and the moon, nearly full, is dull and yellow over the city. "Does Billy know you met someone?" Viggo asks conversationally.
Dom shrugs slowly, feeling tired and listless and sad. "I doubt Billy would care," he says. He doesn't wait for Viggo to respond. "Besides, the guy's dead." Dom rests his head on the window frame, letting the breeze whip at his hair.
"Is anyone ever really dead?" Viggo asks softly.
"Yes," Dom says dully. He closes his eyes against the wind. "Sometimes people are really fucking dead."
***
The next morning Dom is woken by the ringing of the phone. Well, technically it's the next afternoon, but morning for Dom usually lasts until about 2 pm, so whatever. He knocks the cordless phone off its perch when he tries to grab it, and it takes him a minute to fumble it out of the pile of clothes on the floor, his eyes half closed and bleary.
"What?" he mumbles into the receiver.
It's Hannah. "I want to see this crater," she says, without prelude.
Dom sighs and lets his head drop back onto his pillow. "Why?" he asks, not much caring.
"Because I want to," Hannah says. "I'm coming over."
"I'm not going back to that f...." Dom starts, but Hannah's rung off. Dom drops the phone on the floor, rolls over and goes back to sleep. He's just so tired, and it doesn't seem worth getting up. Maybe ever again.
He staggers back to consciousness when someone starts pounding on the door. Groggy and out of it, Dom goes to answer it, just in his boxers. He rubs gunk out of his eye as he pulls the door open.
"You're not dressed," Hannah says.
Dom runs a hand through his hair, making it stand on end. "Did you wake me up just to give me shit?"
"No," Hannah says. "I woke you up to go to this Hellmouth place. Where they made all the Slayers." She pushes past him and into the house.
"I don't want to go there," Dom says, staring at her. His feet are cold on the wood floor, and he absently moves to scratch his left ankle with his right foot. "That place is dangerous."
"How can I be a Slayer if I've never been to a Hellmouth?" Hannah asks, like this is an obvious question.
"I don't know," Dom says. "Just... be one. Don't be stupid. And how do you know all this Hellmouth stuff anyway?"
"It's in the pamphlet," Hannah says. "C'mon, Dom. I want to see this place."
"No," Dom says. "I'm not going."
"Fine," Hannah says. "I'll just go by myself."
"Fine," Dom shoots back. "No! Wait, you can't do that, that's way too dangerous." Hannah smirks at him. Dom sighs. "Fine. I'll go with you." Hannah smirks more. "But you're driving," Dom says, and goes to get dressed.
***
It's cloudy on the drive, and this makes Dom nervous. But the clouds aren't the dark black of the storm that had chased Xander, just the ordinary dull gray of an overcast day, extending far in either direction. Dom feels tired and dull and gray himself.
Hannah talks away as Dom leans his head back against the seat and closes his eyes. He lets her chatter wash over him like water, not quite paying attention.
"Your friend," she says. "The one who died. He was a Watcher, right?"
"Hmm?" Dom asks without opening his eyes.
"A Watcher," she says again.
"What's that?" he asks. Hannah gives an exasperated sigh. "I didn't get a pamphlet, okay, Hannah? God."
"Watchers train Slayers," she says. "And do research and stuff. Every Slayer gets her own Watcher to work with. Or they used to, anyway."
"Oh," Dom says. "Then yeah, I guess he probably was."
He hears Hannah shift in her seat. "Too bad he died," she says softly after a minute. "He could've been my Watcher."
"Yeah," Dom says dryly. "Too bad he died."
"You know what I mean," Hannah says. And then, after a moment, "Sorry."
"Yeah," Dom says shortly. He opens his eyes and looks out the window. They're taking a different road to the crater, a more roundabout route, since the way he and Xander had gone is still washed out. He doesn't recognize anything along this road, and that makes him sort of grateful. "What about that Slayer school they're starting?" Dom says. "You could go to that."
"Yeah," Hannah says sarcastically. "An all-girl's boarding school overseas. That's, like, my dream come true."
"I bet there'd be pillow fights in your underwear," Dom says. "At least, that's how I always imagine it." Hannah punches him. "OW! Fuck, don't *do* that." He grabs his arm, rubbing it. That fucking hurts.
"Stop giving me reasons to hit you, if you want me to stop," she says. Then points at the road ahead. "Look, there it is."
Dom looks ahead to see the crater, familiar now, gaping in front of them. He expects to feel all the hairs standing up on the back of his neck, goose bumps breaking out on his arms, but nothing happens. He stares at the giant hole in the ground, thinking about how eerie it had been, but this time he feels nothing at all. He shakes his head slightly, looks down at his arm, rubs the back of his neck, but still doesn't feel anything. Disneyland would be creepier. Strange.
Hannah opens her door and gets out of the car, dust kicking up under her feet. He follows her, walking to the edge of the crater.
"I thought you said it'd feel creepy," Hannah says, staring down into the rubble.
Dom shrugs. "I don't know. It did before."
As they stand on the edge of the crater, the sun sinks below the level of the gray clouds that still stretch overhead. They are suddenly awash in the orange-red light of late afternoon, the sun in the space between the clouds and ocean, transforming the dull of the afternoon into golden color.
Dom blinks in the light. "We should get out of here before the sun sets."
Hannah glances over at him. "We've still got, like, an hour. I want to look around." She starts to walk off, circling around the crater. Dom follows her, kicking at some of the rocks underfoot.
They've been walking for about fifteen minutes when Hannah suddenly grabs Dom's arm and stops walking abruptly, freezing in place. "What?" Dom says, looking up to follow her gaze.
There is a big rock beside the crater, a boulder about half Dom's height. It is right between them and the sun, black and silhouetted against the horizon. And someone is sitting on it, a man. The sunlight is bright around the edges of his body, catching in his dark hair, making a halo around his shoulders and head. He is black within this halo, a shadow whose features Dom cannot make out.
The figure is casually throwing pebbles into the crater, with the lazy motions of someone putting in time on a Sunday afternoon. He throws one and pauses, turning towards them, his movements still calm and sure, relaxed. Hannah's fingers clench painfully on Dom's arm, tensing up. Dom's heart is racing.
"Hey, Dom," Xander's voice says.
***
TBC...