They boiled out into the hallway in varying states of undress, and milled about confusedly for a
few seconds.
"What the fuck happened?"
"Who screamed, dammit?"
"Where's the fire?"
Three pairs of bloodshot eyes swivelled toward Billy, and someone moaned.
"Fire..." Sean breathed raggedly. "There was fire - but it was a dream." He leaned against the
wall with his eyes shut, rubbing his arms absently. "It was a dream," he repeated, as if to
reassure himself.
Orlando stared at him in consternation. "I dreamt fire too! What the fuck's going on here?"
"Sean screamed," stated Billy. "Scared the crap right out of me. Right next door to me, he is,
and I heard him plain."
"Shhh - " Dom frowned, turning his head this way and that. "I thought I heard something. Quiet,
all of you!"
They fell silent obediently, and then Sean's head came up with a jerk, a wild look in his eyes.
"Elijah! It's Lijah!"
There was a concerted rush down the hallway, and they fetched up against the sturdy door.
Above the pounding of their fists on the wood rose a keening wail, queerly muffled, and so filled
with terror - it raised the hackles on the backs of their necks.
"Fuck - get the key!"
The door shook as Sean's shoulder thudded against it.
"Sean! You had it when - Sean! Don't try it, mate! You'll hurt yourself! Quick - where's the extra
key?"
"Key? Nightstand. My room..."
"Billy - "
" - - "
"Got it!"
~~~~~
He was caught in a loop that fed back on itself - a terror that had no end.
He was dying. The very air burned and seethed in his tortured lungs, and every breath was agony.
He could feel the heat searing his skin; he could feel the pain, bright, sharp and terrible. The
burning beam lay across his body, pinning him down. He lifted a heavy hand to push at it, and
his flesh charred and peeled off his bones; the blood boiled in his veins and his nostrils were
filled with the stench of burning meat.
He was dying. A vista of fire spread out above him, mocking his torment. He couldn't breathe,
he couldn't move, couldn't feel his body. Already darkness crept in from the corners of his vision,
mercifully obscuring the flames above. He could let go now; let it claim him; and leave...
He was dying...
~~~~~
The door rebounded off the wall with the force of Sean's shove, denting the plaster deeply where
it hit. He plunged into the darkness of the room, heading blindly in the direction of the bed and
Dom followed hard on his heels, while Billy paused to fumble for the switch. He found it and
sudden light flooded the room. A twitching bundle lay across the bed, wound tightly in the
blankets, featureless, frightening. As they rushed forward, the frantic writhing slowed, and the
moaning descended into a gasping struggle for breath. Sean found an edge, grasped it and
yanked hard. The bundle unrolled rapidly, spilling Elijah's sweat-soaked body out, splaying him
face down across the rumpled sheets. Sean scrambled after him, panting, and turned him over -
and found himself staring down at an ashen face still locked into a rictus of terror. He grabbed
Elijah's shoulders in desperation and shook him hard.
"Lij! Lij, goddamnit!" his voice wavered on the breaking edge. "Wake up - please!"
Billy disappeared into the bathroom for a glass of water, while Dom and Orli crowded around the
bed, adding their voices to Sean's pleas. Suddenly Lij's shallow breathing caught in an animal
moan of fear; his eyes flew open and a whirlwind of flailing limbs exploded in Sean's arms. An
elbow cracked him upside the jaw and for a moment Sean saw stars. He buried his head in the
crook of Elijah's neck and wrapped his arms around the thrashing body, while Orli and Dom
captured the kicking legs and held them down.
"Lijah, love - wake up!" he said, over and over. "You're only dreaming, Lij - wake up!"
Finally he felt the tense body relax, and he raised his head cautiously. Glazed blue eyes stared
up at him and focused. "Sean," Elijah whispered, his voice a thin thread of sound. "I - I died,
Seanie." Then frightened tears spilled over and the sobs that followed shook his slender frame.
Sean threw the damp blankets aside with a curse. "I'm taking him to my room. He can't stay
here." He shifted to the edge of the bed, his face a grim mask of anguish, and lifted Elijah,
cradling him against Sean's bare chest. Billy scooped a bathrobe off the floor and covered his
shivering friend, tucking the folds under Sean's arms, and the unlikely cavalcade started down
the hallway, moving as quickly as they could. When they reached the room, Sean laid his burden
on the bed and climbed in. Dom went around to the other side and got in too, his eyes daring
Sean to object. Sean nodded shortly, reached out to bring him closer, and together they spooned
Elijah, careful to not cover his face. Billy and Orli settled at the foot of the bed, each taking an
icy foot in hand, massaging and warming it. No one spoke.
~~~~~
Elijah felt the tendrils of heat curling through his body, warming him, loosening the hard knot of
terror in his chest and burning the phantoms from his memory. They came from all around him;
from Dom, whose bristly chin rested against his forehead, soothing fingers riffling through his
hair; from Bill and Orli, who pressed closely against his legs, warming them; from Sean, whose
soft breath he felt on the back of his neck, comforting arm holding him so gently against the
solid body. Tears rose in his throat again, the easy tears of raw emotion. He had never felt
anything like this, ever. It felt so right, this intimate sharing, uncoloured by any kind of sexual
overtone, profound, yet undemanding. He could feel the love, like a bath of blood-warm, silky
water. He luxuriated in it for a few minutes more, and then stirred slightly, sighing.
"Fuck - I love you, guys." His throat was raw and sore, but the tears were spent. "I'm sorry I woke
you. I screamed, didn't I?"
"Ye weren't the only one screaming, laddie." Billy raised his head, sighting up Elijah's body to his
face. "Near as I can tell - you, Sean and Orli - all three of you had the same dream. Now, how
weird is that?"
"Four," Dom muttered. "I dreamed of fire too."
"All four of you?" Billy echoed. "Shit."
Elijah struggled to sit up, and Sean leaned up against the headboard and pulled him back to rest
against Sean's chest. "I died," Elijah whispered. "Over and over, I died. Sometimes I burned,
sometimes I suffocated - on smoke, I think." He shuddered, and rubbed a trembling hand across
his face.
"You don't have to tell us, Lij. If it bothers you too much." Sean tried to soothe his friend. His
guts were in knots at the very thought of Elijah in pain - never mind dying. "I had much the same
dream, except - I just burned. It hurt a lot," he admitted reluctantly.
"I need to talk about it," Elijah insisted. "Sean - I can't deal with this alone. It fucking scares me
- I'll never look at fire the same way ever again." He shrank back against Sean's arms and they
wrapped around him protectively.
"I know what you mean." Orli had been silent until now, unusually for him. "Me, I dreamed of
fire too - but I remember most the sadness - oh my god - the sadness..." He shut his eyes for a
moment and swallowed hard.
"What about you, Dom?" Billy asked.
Dominic nodded towards Orli. "What he said," he answered tersely. "Bill, you didn't dream at
all?"
"Nooo..." Billy hesitated. "I don't usually remember my dreams, unless I'm rudely awakened - and
Sean here was horribly discourteous tonight." He shrugged and his lips twisted in a parody of a
smile. "I dreamed that I was doing Shakespeare or some period piece - anyway, all of you were
on stage too. Probably my subconscious telling me to lose the hairy feet and concentrate on real
acting for a change. But no - no fire at all."
"I think this is all a weird coincidence," Sean said. "Too much alcohol or something. We've got
an early start tomor - er, today. We really should get some more sleep."
"No!" Elijah's voice was tense and tight. "No," he said again, more calmly. "I - I don't think I can
sleep any more." He turned his head to look up at Sean pleadingly. "Can I stay here, Sean? I
won't bother you - I promise. You go to sleep - I'll be fine."
Sean flinched. Sleep? With Elijah only inches away, tousled and tempting - in his bed, in the
dark? Deeply buried dreams stirred fitfully in the depths of his memory, clamouring to be made
real. He stared down on Elijah's upturned face, and his vision seemed to blur. He saw the
parted lips take on a swollen fullness; saw the almond eyes grow dark and heavy with the
promise of passion; felt the weight of the slight body warm against his skin. He tore his eyes
away with an effort and glanced up, to meet Dominic's ironic gaze. Their eyes clung for a
moment, and then Dom looked away, his face unreadable. Sean's heart pounded like all the
drums of Africa and he eased away from Elijah, afraid that he would feel it.
"No," he agreed, his voice as steady as he could make it. "You're right, Lij. I don't think I could
sleep either. What about the rest of you?"
A chorus of negatives answered him. He glanced at the window, realizing that the darkness had
given way to the watery light of dawn. "It's almost time for our wake-up call anyway," he decided.
"Let's clean up and go grab a coffee, okay?"
This definitely wasn't the time, or the place. But for the presence of the others, he might have
surrendered to his need; taken his chances. And a tiny, buried piece of his mind wondered;
would there ever be a time and place for both of them - ever?
~~~~~
By mid-morning, the entire fellowship knew about the nightmares. The five of them were seated
around a table in craft services, downing innumerable cups of coffee, when Viggo joined them.
He tossed a small notebook on the table and looked round at the haggard faces.
"You look like death warmed over," he said, in that light, breathy voice of his.
Dom groaned. "Vig, lose the clichés, will you? My head's just about falling off here."
Viggo ignored him pointedly. "That was very intriguing - what happened to the lot of you last
night." he began. Elijah raised his head from his folded arms and stared at him blearily.
"I remember most of my dreams." Viggo continued. "It's something I've trained myself to do.
Never know when I might need them, you see. As soon as I wake up, I write them down - here."
He prodded at the notebook with a calloused finger. "I had a dream last night, and it woke me. I
seemed to be on stage - in period costume. You were all in the dream with me - that is, you were
and you weren't. Everyone was slightly off - Lij, for example, was a girl," he paused to grin at
Elijah's indignant yelp. "You made a very lovely girl, little hobbit. Anyway, I find the whole thing
passing strange. Especially since I am on the floor right above yours, and my room is right above
Sean's. What's more, my dream parallels Billy's - and I have never acted on-stage since my stint
at drama school."
"What are you saying, Vig?" Elijah gnawed at his fingernail nervously. "I mean - seriously - you
sound like an episode of 'The Outer Limits' or something."
Viggo shrugged and replied, "I don't know, Lij. Haven't got any answers for you either. Just
thought I'd complicate things a bit."
Elijah hunched his shoulders. "All I know is I've suddenly gotten a fuckin' phobia where I didn't
have one before. Jesus - even my bitty lighter flame freaks me out now. What's that one called,
Seanie?" Viggo and the rest looked their puzzlement at the apparent non sequitur.
"Arsonphobia," Sean replied automatically.
"Huh. It figures." Elijah propped his chin on his hand and stared across the table at his best
friend. He admired the quickness of Sean's mind, the way it seized upon words and owned them.
He loved to watch Sean think; loved the subtle play of thought across his face, the bright spark
of his intelligence, his boundless curiosity and infectious enthusiasm.
Elijah had always had this problem. His mind ran like quicksilver, often way ahead of plodding
words. Used to drive his mom crazy when he was younger. She never knew what he was going to
say next, and oftentimes couldn't see the connection with words that came before. He'd learned
to slow himself down since then. With Sean, he never had that difficulty; Sean always
understood what he meant, always kept pace with him, interpreting his meanderings with
effortless ease. They didn't even need words, anymore. Elijah sighed morosely. He was going to
fucking miss Sean when this was all over. More than he thought he could stand.
Then the break was over, and the AD came over to call them back to the set. Elijah felt so
frigging tired. He had to get some real sleep tonight. Sean had to be right - last night had been
a fluke, a weird coincidence. And the dream was starting to fade from his memory; trying to
remember it was like grasping at smoke. He shuddered. Bad choice of metaphor, Elijah, he
thought grimly. But the terror remained.
That night, they all went to bed early, desperate for rest. And against all rational experience, the
nightmares returned. Dawn found them huddled together on Sean's king-sized bed, all five of
them. Viggo knocked on the door, and then they were six. He and Billy admitted that they were
beginning to dream of the flames too, although not as intensely as the others did; they could still
find respite in sleep. Elijah lay curled up on his side, his head on Sean's shoulder, exhaustion in
every line of his thin body. For some reason, he was having a harder time of it than any of them,
and it showed.
"I'm taking you to Doc Irwin in the morning, Lij." Sean was determined. "Get her to prescribe a
sedative for you, because you can't go on like this! And your schedule is crazy for the..."
Elijah pushed himself away from Sean, shaking his head violently. "No! I can't - the dreams'll
come back - and what if I can't wake up? No, Sean - no!"
Sean gathered him back, holding Elijah close against his body. "Shhh. . . it's okay, Lij - I won't if
you don't want to. Look, try to nap now. We don't have an early call today, so you have time."
He raised his head and looked around at the others. "Dom, Orli, Bill - try and get some sleep too.
I'll stay awake - Viggo will too, won't you, Vig?" Viggo nodded his assent from the room's only
armchair. "Good - if anyone starts to dream, we'll wake you, okay?"
He felt Elijah begin to relax and buried his nose in the soft hair under his chin. His friend
smelled of sweat, and a fragrant scent that was indescribably Elijah. Sean closed his eyes and
sighed. Every cell in his body ached to protect the lovely man-child sleeping so trustingly in his
arms, and he wept inside at the knowledge that this time, he couldn't - didn't even know what to
protect him from. He ached too, with the strain of remaining calm for all of them - when all he
wanted to do was run screaming into the night.
That day, they filmed on the Rivendell and Bag End interior sets. The make-up people had an
easy time of it; the dark circles under Frodo's eyes owed nothing to artifice and his skin was
impossibly paler than it usually was. They were all frankly subdued today, and Sean fell asleep in
his make-up chair. Strong emotion used up a lot of energy, energy that they could ill afford to
lose.
There was concern in Ian Mckellen's eyes as he watched his young co-star climb wearily into the
huge elven bed. "Are you all right, m'boy?" he asked as Elijah subsided into the soft pillows. He
had heard of the nightmares too, and he felt a frisson of unease as he stared at the pallid face.
"I'm fine, Ian," Elijah lied. "Just tired. If I take a nap, will you wake me up before Pete comes
in?"
"All right," Ian nodded. And added, "Elijah, you need help. Why don't..."
"Later, Ian, okay?" he murmured, and his eyes closed.
~~~~~
That night, Elijah didn't go to bed. He ordered up the horror movies he was so fond of on the
hotel's equivalent of pay-per-view, and watched them until his eyes ached with tiredness. Then
he went over his rewrites and tried to commit them to memory. The others didn't have his
stamina or his determination, and one by one they fell by the wayside, the need to sleep winning
over the fear of dreams. Dawn found them all awake again - for the fires had returned.
Filming that day was an unmitigated disaster. Frodo's pillow saw an awful lot of use - and they
dropped where they stopped, like puppets with their strings cut short. Peter called them
together on the set and they felt the iron hand beneath the velvet glove.
"Look, guys," he growled. "We're not filming 'Dead Alive 2' here - and I didn't hire you to be a
cast of zombies. Someone tell me what's going on - and it had better be good."
They didn't even have the energy to be properly scared. Finally Elijah spoke up - of them all, he
was the closest to Peter. "Can't sleep," he said simply. "Keep on having these dreams." The
dam broke after that, and they all chimed in, the words tumbling over each other in their haste to
get out.
Peter listened without comment, his eyes going from one actor's face to another. For all he
knew, the wankers could've been indulging in group orgies or drinking parties for the past week.
If it wasn't for Elijah's haunted eyes and Viggo's flat gaze as he stood on the fringes of the group,
he might have dismissed the whole thing as an elaborate attempt to get out of trouble.
"You're all going to Ian's tonight, aren't you?" he said neutrally. They nodded, and he continued,
"Okay. I'm calling Doc Irwin in to the set tomorrow, and you'll see her. You will," he promised, at
Elijah's mutinous glare. "And you go straight back to the hotel and to bed - no side trips. I'll be
checking, okay?" his voice softened. "I'm in loco parentis to all of you - and I take my job
seriously."
~~~~~
Ian handed Sean a drink as soon as he stepped through the door. He quirked his eyebrow
questioningly and Ian winked. "I wanted to try self-medication in the form of excessive alcohol
consumption, " he dead-panned. "But Peter said no. So your drinks are rationed tonight and
you're all leaving after supper. It seemed best to start immediately."
Sean gave him an answering grin and looked around the room. "Where's Lij?" he asked.
Everyone else was present.
"He ran out of smokes," Dominic replied, his eyes on the tube.
Sean felt an unreasoning panic rise in his throat at the words, and tamped it down ruthlessly. He
could carry this 'safety hobbit' persona a little too far, he decided - and no one would thank him
for it.
They got down to the enjoyable business of forging a real fellowship. Laughter and teasing
anecdote filled the living room of Ian's rented house, but Sean couldn't shake off the feeling that
something wasn't quite right. Elijah's absence was very like the gap left by a freshly pulled tooth,
palpable and aching. Finally he got up and started to pace.
He glanced at his watch. It's been three-quarters of an hour - where is he? The store isn't very
far; he should've been back by now!
The phone rang and Ian excused himself to answer it. Sean stopped pacing and watched him
hopefully. It's gotta be Elijah, he thought. Probably got caught up with fans and autograph
hounds again. He saw Ian's back stiffen, saw the blue eyes flick to him and away, and heard the
resonant voice soften into a near whisper. Then the old actor replaced the receiver and reached
for his keys.
"That was Peter." he said calmly. "He wants us to meet him at the hospital. Elijah's been in an
accident, and - Billy! Stop him! Don't let him drive!" he yelled as Sean dived toward the door.
~~~~~
few seconds.
"What the fuck happened?"
"Who screamed, dammit?"
"Where's the fire?"
Three pairs of bloodshot eyes swivelled toward Billy, and someone moaned.
"Fire..." Sean breathed raggedly. "There was fire - but it was a dream." He leaned against the
wall with his eyes shut, rubbing his arms absently. "It was a dream," he repeated, as if to
reassure himself.
Orlando stared at him in consternation. "I dreamt fire too! What the fuck's going on here?"
"Sean screamed," stated Billy. "Scared the crap right out of me. Right next door to me, he is,
and I heard him plain."
"Shhh - " Dom frowned, turning his head this way and that. "I thought I heard something. Quiet,
all of you!"
They fell silent obediently, and then Sean's head came up with a jerk, a wild look in his eyes.
"Elijah! It's Lijah!"
There was a concerted rush down the hallway, and they fetched up against the sturdy door.
Above the pounding of their fists on the wood rose a keening wail, queerly muffled, and so filled
with terror - it raised the hackles on the backs of their necks.
"Fuck - get the key!"
The door shook as Sean's shoulder thudded against it.
"Sean! You had it when - Sean! Don't try it, mate! You'll hurt yourself! Quick - where's the extra
key?"
"Key? Nightstand. My room..."
"Billy - "
" - - "
"Got it!"
~~~~~
He was caught in a loop that fed back on itself - a terror that had no end.
He was dying. The very air burned and seethed in his tortured lungs, and every breath was agony.
He could feel the heat searing his skin; he could feel the pain, bright, sharp and terrible. The
burning beam lay across his body, pinning him down. He lifted a heavy hand to push at it, and
his flesh charred and peeled off his bones; the blood boiled in his veins and his nostrils were
filled with the stench of burning meat.
He was dying. A vista of fire spread out above him, mocking his torment. He couldn't breathe,
he couldn't move, couldn't feel his body. Already darkness crept in from the corners of his vision,
mercifully obscuring the flames above. He could let go now; let it claim him; and leave...
He was dying...
~~~~~
The door rebounded off the wall with the force of Sean's shove, denting the plaster deeply where
it hit. He plunged into the darkness of the room, heading blindly in the direction of the bed and
Dom followed hard on his heels, while Billy paused to fumble for the switch. He found it and
sudden light flooded the room. A twitching bundle lay across the bed, wound tightly in the
blankets, featureless, frightening. As they rushed forward, the frantic writhing slowed, and the
moaning descended into a gasping struggle for breath. Sean found an edge, grasped it and
yanked hard. The bundle unrolled rapidly, spilling Elijah's sweat-soaked body out, splaying him
face down across the rumpled sheets. Sean scrambled after him, panting, and turned him over -
and found himself staring down at an ashen face still locked into a rictus of terror. He grabbed
Elijah's shoulders in desperation and shook him hard.
"Lij! Lij, goddamnit!" his voice wavered on the breaking edge. "Wake up - please!"
Billy disappeared into the bathroom for a glass of water, while Dom and Orli crowded around the
bed, adding their voices to Sean's pleas. Suddenly Lij's shallow breathing caught in an animal
moan of fear; his eyes flew open and a whirlwind of flailing limbs exploded in Sean's arms. An
elbow cracked him upside the jaw and for a moment Sean saw stars. He buried his head in the
crook of Elijah's neck and wrapped his arms around the thrashing body, while Orli and Dom
captured the kicking legs and held them down.
"Lijah, love - wake up!" he said, over and over. "You're only dreaming, Lij - wake up!"
Finally he felt the tense body relax, and he raised his head cautiously. Glazed blue eyes stared
up at him and focused. "Sean," Elijah whispered, his voice a thin thread of sound. "I - I died,
Seanie." Then frightened tears spilled over and the sobs that followed shook his slender frame.
Sean threw the damp blankets aside with a curse. "I'm taking him to my room. He can't stay
here." He shifted to the edge of the bed, his face a grim mask of anguish, and lifted Elijah,
cradling him against Sean's bare chest. Billy scooped a bathrobe off the floor and covered his
shivering friend, tucking the folds under Sean's arms, and the unlikely cavalcade started down
the hallway, moving as quickly as they could. When they reached the room, Sean laid his burden
on the bed and climbed in. Dom went around to the other side and got in too, his eyes daring
Sean to object. Sean nodded shortly, reached out to bring him closer, and together they spooned
Elijah, careful to not cover his face. Billy and Orli settled at the foot of the bed, each taking an
icy foot in hand, massaging and warming it. No one spoke.
~~~~~
Elijah felt the tendrils of heat curling through his body, warming him, loosening the hard knot of
terror in his chest and burning the phantoms from his memory. They came from all around him;
from Dom, whose bristly chin rested against his forehead, soothing fingers riffling through his
hair; from Bill and Orli, who pressed closely against his legs, warming them; from Sean, whose
soft breath he felt on the back of his neck, comforting arm holding him so gently against the
solid body. Tears rose in his throat again, the easy tears of raw emotion. He had never felt
anything like this, ever. It felt so right, this intimate sharing, uncoloured by any kind of sexual
overtone, profound, yet undemanding. He could feel the love, like a bath of blood-warm, silky
water. He luxuriated in it for a few minutes more, and then stirred slightly, sighing.
"Fuck - I love you, guys." His throat was raw and sore, but the tears were spent. "I'm sorry I woke
you. I screamed, didn't I?"
"Ye weren't the only one screaming, laddie." Billy raised his head, sighting up Elijah's body to his
face. "Near as I can tell - you, Sean and Orli - all three of you had the same dream. Now, how
weird is that?"
"Four," Dom muttered. "I dreamed of fire too."
"All four of you?" Billy echoed. "Shit."
Elijah struggled to sit up, and Sean leaned up against the headboard and pulled him back to rest
against Sean's chest. "I died," Elijah whispered. "Over and over, I died. Sometimes I burned,
sometimes I suffocated - on smoke, I think." He shuddered, and rubbed a trembling hand across
his face.
"You don't have to tell us, Lij. If it bothers you too much." Sean tried to soothe his friend. His
guts were in knots at the very thought of Elijah in pain - never mind dying. "I had much the same
dream, except - I just burned. It hurt a lot," he admitted reluctantly.
"I need to talk about it," Elijah insisted. "Sean - I can't deal with this alone. It fucking scares me
- I'll never look at fire the same way ever again." He shrank back against Sean's arms and they
wrapped around him protectively.
"I know what you mean." Orli had been silent until now, unusually for him. "Me, I dreamed of
fire too - but I remember most the sadness - oh my god - the sadness..." He shut his eyes for a
moment and swallowed hard.
"What about you, Dom?" Billy asked.
Dominic nodded towards Orli. "What he said," he answered tersely. "Bill, you didn't dream at
all?"
"Nooo..." Billy hesitated. "I don't usually remember my dreams, unless I'm rudely awakened - and
Sean here was horribly discourteous tonight." He shrugged and his lips twisted in a parody of a
smile. "I dreamed that I was doing Shakespeare or some period piece - anyway, all of you were
on stage too. Probably my subconscious telling me to lose the hairy feet and concentrate on real
acting for a change. But no - no fire at all."
"I think this is all a weird coincidence," Sean said. "Too much alcohol or something. We've got
an early start tomor - er, today. We really should get some more sleep."
"No!" Elijah's voice was tense and tight. "No," he said again, more calmly. "I - I don't think I can
sleep any more." He turned his head to look up at Sean pleadingly. "Can I stay here, Sean? I
won't bother you - I promise. You go to sleep - I'll be fine."
Sean flinched. Sleep? With Elijah only inches away, tousled and tempting - in his bed, in the
dark? Deeply buried dreams stirred fitfully in the depths of his memory, clamouring to be made
real. He stared down on Elijah's upturned face, and his vision seemed to blur. He saw the
parted lips take on a swollen fullness; saw the almond eyes grow dark and heavy with the
promise of passion; felt the weight of the slight body warm against his skin. He tore his eyes
away with an effort and glanced up, to meet Dominic's ironic gaze. Their eyes clung for a
moment, and then Dom looked away, his face unreadable. Sean's heart pounded like all the
drums of Africa and he eased away from Elijah, afraid that he would feel it.
"No," he agreed, his voice as steady as he could make it. "You're right, Lij. I don't think I could
sleep either. What about the rest of you?"
A chorus of negatives answered him. He glanced at the window, realizing that the darkness had
given way to the watery light of dawn. "It's almost time for our wake-up call anyway," he decided.
"Let's clean up and go grab a coffee, okay?"
This definitely wasn't the time, or the place. But for the presence of the others, he might have
surrendered to his need; taken his chances. And a tiny, buried piece of his mind wondered;
would there ever be a time and place for both of them - ever?
~~~~~
By mid-morning, the entire fellowship knew about the nightmares. The five of them were seated
around a table in craft services, downing innumerable cups of coffee, when Viggo joined them.
He tossed a small notebook on the table and looked round at the haggard faces.
"You look like death warmed over," he said, in that light, breathy voice of his.
Dom groaned. "Vig, lose the clichés, will you? My head's just about falling off here."
Viggo ignored him pointedly. "That was very intriguing - what happened to the lot of you last
night." he began. Elijah raised his head from his folded arms and stared at him blearily.
"I remember most of my dreams." Viggo continued. "It's something I've trained myself to do.
Never know when I might need them, you see. As soon as I wake up, I write them down - here."
He prodded at the notebook with a calloused finger. "I had a dream last night, and it woke me. I
seemed to be on stage - in period costume. You were all in the dream with me - that is, you were
and you weren't. Everyone was slightly off - Lij, for example, was a girl," he paused to grin at
Elijah's indignant yelp. "You made a very lovely girl, little hobbit. Anyway, I find the whole thing
passing strange. Especially since I am on the floor right above yours, and my room is right above
Sean's. What's more, my dream parallels Billy's - and I have never acted on-stage since my stint
at drama school."
"What are you saying, Vig?" Elijah gnawed at his fingernail nervously. "I mean - seriously - you
sound like an episode of 'The Outer Limits' or something."
Viggo shrugged and replied, "I don't know, Lij. Haven't got any answers for you either. Just
thought I'd complicate things a bit."
Elijah hunched his shoulders. "All I know is I've suddenly gotten a fuckin' phobia where I didn't
have one before. Jesus - even my bitty lighter flame freaks me out now. What's that one called,
Seanie?" Viggo and the rest looked their puzzlement at the apparent non sequitur.
"Arsonphobia," Sean replied automatically.
"Huh. It figures." Elijah propped his chin on his hand and stared across the table at his best
friend. He admired the quickness of Sean's mind, the way it seized upon words and owned them.
He loved to watch Sean think; loved the subtle play of thought across his face, the bright spark
of his intelligence, his boundless curiosity and infectious enthusiasm.
Elijah had always had this problem. His mind ran like quicksilver, often way ahead of plodding
words. Used to drive his mom crazy when he was younger. She never knew what he was going to
say next, and oftentimes couldn't see the connection with words that came before. He'd learned
to slow himself down since then. With Sean, he never had that difficulty; Sean always
understood what he meant, always kept pace with him, interpreting his meanderings with
effortless ease. They didn't even need words, anymore. Elijah sighed morosely. He was going to
fucking miss Sean when this was all over. More than he thought he could stand.
Then the break was over, and the AD came over to call them back to the set. Elijah felt so
frigging tired. He had to get some real sleep tonight. Sean had to be right - last night had been
a fluke, a weird coincidence. And the dream was starting to fade from his memory; trying to
remember it was like grasping at smoke. He shuddered. Bad choice of metaphor, Elijah, he
thought grimly. But the terror remained.
That night, they all went to bed early, desperate for rest. And against all rational experience, the
nightmares returned. Dawn found them huddled together on Sean's king-sized bed, all five of
them. Viggo knocked on the door, and then they were six. He and Billy admitted that they were
beginning to dream of the flames too, although not as intensely as the others did; they could still
find respite in sleep. Elijah lay curled up on his side, his head on Sean's shoulder, exhaustion in
every line of his thin body. For some reason, he was having a harder time of it than any of them,
and it showed.
"I'm taking you to Doc Irwin in the morning, Lij." Sean was determined. "Get her to prescribe a
sedative for you, because you can't go on like this! And your schedule is crazy for the..."
Elijah pushed himself away from Sean, shaking his head violently. "No! I can't - the dreams'll
come back - and what if I can't wake up? No, Sean - no!"
Sean gathered him back, holding Elijah close against his body. "Shhh. . . it's okay, Lij - I won't if
you don't want to. Look, try to nap now. We don't have an early call today, so you have time."
He raised his head and looked around at the others. "Dom, Orli, Bill - try and get some sleep too.
I'll stay awake - Viggo will too, won't you, Vig?" Viggo nodded his assent from the room's only
armchair. "Good - if anyone starts to dream, we'll wake you, okay?"
He felt Elijah begin to relax and buried his nose in the soft hair under his chin. His friend
smelled of sweat, and a fragrant scent that was indescribably Elijah. Sean closed his eyes and
sighed. Every cell in his body ached to protect the lovely man-child sleeping so trustingly in his
arms, and he wept inside at the knowledge that this time, he couldn't - didn't even know what to
protect him from. He ached too, with the strain of remaining calm for all of them - when all he
wanted to do was run screaming into the night.
That day, they filmed on the Rivendell and Bag End interior sets. The make-up people had an
easy time of it; the dark circles under Frodo's eyes owed nothing to artifice and his skin was
impossibly paler than it usually was. They were all frankly subdued today, and Sean fell asleep in
his make-up chair. Strong emotion used up a lot of energy, energy that they could ill afford to
lose.
There was concern in Ian Mckellen's eyes as he watched his young co-star climb wearily into the
huge elven bed. "Are you all right, m'boy?" he asked as Elijah subsided into the soft pillows. He
had heard of the nightmares too, and he felt a frisson of unease as he stared at the pallid face.
"I'm fine, Ian," Elijah lied. "Just tired. If I take a nap, will you wake me up before Pete comes
in?"
"All right," Ian nodded. And added, "Elijah, you need help. Why don't..."
"Later, Ian, okay?" he murmured, and his eyes closed.
~~~~~
That night, Elijah didn't go to bed. He ordered up the horror movies he was so fond of on the
hotel's equivalent of pay-per-view, and watched them until his eyes ached with tiredness. Then
he went over his rewrites and tried to commit them to memory. The others didn't have his
stamina or his determination, and one by one they fell by the wayside, the need to sleep winning
over the fear of dreams. Dawn found them all awake again - for the fires had returned.
Filming that day was an unmitigated disaster. Frodo's pillow saw an awful lot of use - and they
dropped where they stopped, like puppets with their strings cut short. Peter called them
together on the set and they felt the iron hand beneath the velvet glove.
"Look, guys," he growled. "We're not filming 'Dead Alive 2' here - and I didn't hire you to be a
cast of zombies. Someone tell me what's going on - and it had better be good."
They didn't even have the energy to be properly scared. Finally Elijah spoke up - of them all, he
was the closest to Peter. "Can't sleep," he said simply. "Keep on having these dreams." The
dam broke after that, and they all chimed in, the words tumbling over each other in their haste to
get out.
Peter listened without comment, his eyes going from one actor's face to another. For all he
knew, the wankers could've been indulging in group orgies or drinking parties for the past week.
If it wasn't for Elijah's haunted eyes and Viggo's flat gaze as he stood on the fringes of the group,
he might have dismissed the whole thing as an elaborate attempt to get out of trouble.
"You're all going to Ian's tonight, aren't you?" he said neutrally. They nodded, and he continued,
"Okay. I'm calling Doc Irwin in to the set tomorrow, and you'll see her. You will," he promised, at
Elijah's mutinous glare. "And you go straight back to the hotel and to bed - no side trips. I'll be
checking, okay?" his voice softened. "I'm in loco parentis to all of you - and I take my job
seriously."
~~~~~
Ian handed Sean a drink as soon as he stepped through the door. He quirked his eyebrow
questioningly and Ian winked. "I wanted to try self-medication in the form of excessive alcohol
consumption, " he dead-panned. "But Peter said no. So your drinks are rationed tonight and
you're all leaving after supper. It seemed best to start immediately."
Sean gave him an answering grin and looked around the room. "Where's Lij?" he asked.
Everyone else was present.
"He ran out of smokes," Dominic replied, his eyes on the tube.
Sean felt an unreasoning panic rise in his throat at the words, and tamped it down ruthlessly. He
could carry this 'safety hobbit' persona a little too far, he decided - and no one would thank him
for it.
They got down to the enjoyable business of forging a real fellowship. Laughter and teasing
anecdote filled the living room of Ian's rented house, but Sean couldn't shake off the feeling that
something wasn't quite right. Elijah's absence was very like the gap left by a freshly pulled tooth,
palpable and aching. Finally he got up and started to pace.
He glanced at his watch. It's been three-quarters of an hour - where is he? The store isn't very
far; he should've been back by now!
The phone rang and Ian excused himself to answer it. Sean stopped pacing and watched him
hopefully. It's gotta be Elijah, he thought. Probably got caught up with fans and autograph
hounds again. He saw Ian's back stiffen, saw the blue eyes flick to him and away, and heard the
resonant voice soften into a near whisper. Then the old actor replaced the receiver and reached
for his keys.
"That was Peter." he said calmly. "He wants us to meet him at the hospital. Elijah's been in an
accident, and - Billy! Stop him! Don't let him drive!" he yelled as Sean dived toward the door.
~~~~~
