Slashababy 2004 Stories

  FANFICTION: This story depicts real-life public figures engaged in completely fictional, false and untrue activities. It never happened, it never will happen. This story is a work of fantasy and satire which in no way professes to express the truth about the life, thoughts, feelings, desires, opinions, beliefs, activities or sexual orientation of any person mentioned herein.

Untitled Story

for a slashababy dropout
by chimerablack

A/N: Now, I haven't the slightest idea why a dung beetle would be in California, but apparently, neither does Billy. And also, if you don't know, Wichitar was Dom's black widow. And yes, he actually did die while Dom was filming Lost. I just changed it a bit for the story.

"Dom? Dom, are you home?" Billy pushes his way through the front door, luggage in tow. He sees a light on down the hall in Dom's kitchen.

He kicks off his shoes near the sofa and pads his way quietly down the hall. "Dom?" he calls again. There's still no answer. The door is halfway open, and he pushes it the rest of the way. And there's Dom, all red-nosed and teary-eyed. He walks up behind Dom, placing his head on Dom's shoulder.

"He's gone, Billy. He's gone."

"Who's gone, Dommie?"

"Witchitar. He's died. Happened last night while I was sleeping."

"Last night? Don't tell me that's how long you've been standing here!"

"No, I just found him at around two."

"Two?" Billy stares up at the clock. "Dom, that's nearly four hours! ... Poor, lad. It's okay you know. Animals, I mean insects... "

"Arachnids, Bill. Eight legs, not six."

"Sorry. Arachnids die all the time. They don't have naturally long lives, you know. Who knows how long he'd even been alive before you caught him? Could have been months, years even."

"I know, but... I just thought that... If only I hadn't... I left him here, Bills. I went off to Hawaii to film, and I then I come back for the short amount of time that I can, and this happens. I didn't take care of him properly. He was neglected for so long. Poor thing. Might have gone days without food.

"He wasn't acting like himself when I got here, you know? Usually he and Gizmo would be up against their tanks, tap-tap-tapping at the glass, challenging each other. Then they'd both go off, have a bit to eat, then they come back and start tapping again. He wasn't tapping, Bills. He would just sit in his little web in the corner and do nothing. He was so sad. He wouldn't even eat. I tried giving him flies several times, but he just wouldn't eat.

"He was so sad without me. So sad. I mean, Wichitar was my baby. I was his daddy, Billy. His daddy. I didn't see to him enough. Didn't care for him properly. I'm a bad, bad father... "

Billy wraps his arms around Dom's middle. "No, Dom, no. You haven't been a horrible father. You haven't even been a father. I know you cared for your, er, animals a lot, but they're not humans. They're creatures. Pets. And you can't be father to a creature. You can care for it. You can give it food and watch after it, but you can't treat it like a child.

"You can't teach a spider right or wrong. It'll never ask you about the birds and the bees. It'll never go out for the rugby team. You don't have to pay for it to go to university. You don't have to change its nappy. Though, you do have to clean out the tank every now and again. Couldn't have the lad go running around in his own spidery filth, now could you?"

Dom wipes his nose on the back of his sleeve. "No. Couldn't have that."

"Dom, use a tissue. That's disgusting."

He sniffles a bit more. "Sorry."

"It's alright, Dommie. Come on now, into the other room with you." He leads Dom by the small of his back to the sofa and sits down.

Dom curls alongside Billy and places his head in his lap. "I'm glad you're here, Billy. I need this right now."

"Hmm," Billy hums softly as he strokes Dom's hair. "I'm glad I could be here too. What's a best mate for, anyway? Besides, someone had to come and make sure you didn't rot, standing over the sink the way you were. If it weren't for me, you'd probably still be there. Your argent would come looking for you, wondering why you weren't taking any calls, and there you would be, smelly and sticking to the countertop."

"That would be rather pathetic, wouldn't it?"

"Only slightly."

Dom sits up in his seat and stares at Billy. "Bugger! I'm so sorry, Billy. I haven't even given you a proper hello yet. So, uh, hello."

"Hello, yourself."

"So, how are things in Glasgow? Good, yeah?"

"Great. Everything's fine. Saw Margaret before I left. She says hello, too, by the way."

"She's a sweet girl, that one. Remind me to send her some nice flowers before you go."

"Aye, that I will. So, is there anything else on your mind, Monaghan? You know, other than insects?"

Dom opens his mouth slightly, but before he can say anything, Billy answers, "I know. I know. Arachnids. You told me already. But really, is there anything else?"

"No, not much. But I am glad you decided to show up on my doorstep. As we've already established, you saved me from quite a nasty death." He buries his face in Billy's neck and kisses him softly. "I missed you so much... "

Still stroking his hair, Billy kisses him on the top of his head. "Missed you, too. You wanker."

"You know what I think. I think we should drink. We should honor the death of our dear friend, Wichitar, by getting completely sloshed. How about it, Bills?"

"Now that, my dear Dommie, sounds like a plan. We can drown your sorrows in liquor. Not that it's the best thing in the world to do, but it's always worked for us, right?"

"That's right! Now, c'mon. Help me get our provisions."

The two amble into the kitchen, arms linked, and silly grins plastered on their faces. If one didn't know any better, you'd think they were drunk already.

"Alright, Bills. I'm on alcohol duty. You procure us some glasses."

"I'm on it, sir." Billy salutes and does an about face toward the cupboards.

Rifling through every bottle on the shelf, Dom decides that some vodka would do nicely for this evening.

"What in the world... ? Dommie... Uh, this isn't your doing is it?" Billy calls from just across the kitchen island.

"Is what?"

"It would appear that someone has taken up residence in one of your shot glasses."

"Taken up residence? What? Let me see."

Dom walks up behind Billy and peers over his shoulder. "Well, would you have a look at that... "

"I just have, thank you. Mind telling me why there's a dung beetle in your cupboard, Monaghan?"

"Hello, there," Dom coos as he lifts the down-turned glass and ushers the beetle into his hand. "Honestly, Bill, I don't know what he's doing there. Aw, look at him. Innit cute?"

"Cute? Dom, it's a dung beetle, as in dung. Meaning he eats... You know! I do not find that cute."

"Aw, but look at him. He's so small. And he's been trapped under that glass for... Well, I don't know how long, but I'll bet it's been a while. Poor thing. Probably hasn't eaten in days. C'mon, little fella. Dom's gonna take care of you now." Dom cups his hand over the tiny insect and pads his way around to the kitchen door. "Coming, Bill?"

"Coming where?"

"We're going to find Eggen, here, some food."

"Eggen? Food? Dom, you don't mean... "

"C'mon, Billy. Lots of people in this neighborhood have dogs." He hands Billy a plastic bag, and he picks up a garden trowel laying just outside the door. "Let's go! We've got doodie duty!"

Slashababy 2004 Stories