I haven't written anything in quite a while, especially nothing English and no Slash, so forgive me for any mistakes (and please point them out to me). This was supposed to be a simple, short One-Shot, but after 3000 words or so, I realized that there wasn't a good way to end it that soon. So, yeah, it turned out to be a two-chaptered story.
Pairing: Roman(Joe)/Randy - you find a good name for them, tell me :)
Rated: Uhmmm... T
Warning: Angst, Fluff, and obviously Slash (no SMUT though, sorry :-P)
He was standing there, the third day in a row. Standing right there in the cold, white-painted floor that smelled so much like sterility. Standing right in front of his door, staring through the small window. From eight to eight every day. Each day. Not moving. Only now and then when a nurse or a doctor passed him to open the door that he couldn't open. Wasn't capable of opening. Was so scared of opening. But even when doctors and nurses were checking on him, his precious sunshine, the man he loved so much, the man that held his heart and soul, even then his eyes only ever focused on the man lying in the sterile room, covered with white linen, tubes and wires sticking out of him, keeping him alive.
Three days and he still couldn't face him. His unconscious lover. Because facing him would make this dream stop, turn into reality. And he wasn't ready for that.
"He's stable. Still unconscious, but stable. His vitals have improved a little. The EEG showed strong signs of activity. Outside the damage seems mind numbing, but his organs seem okay. We don't know why he didn't wake up yet, but he will. The doctors are quite sure of that."
The words reached his ears only partly, blurry, but that didn't really matter. He'd heard them a good 20 times in those past days already. Knew Joe's condition. Knew that he'd wake up. That his brain was working. His heart was steadily beating. That his mental strength was still there. But he also knew that their lives would change dramatically. That their future wouldn't be what they'd imagined it to be. That this accident would maybe break Joe. Break them. Because his physical injuries were severe.
A concussion in the ring was one thing. A broken ankle. A dislocated shoulder. One thing at a time was easy to focus on. To recover from. But this. All the bandages, the bruises, the cuts, they showed what a hard path lay ahead of Joe. Ahead of them. It scared the shit out of him. Because besides his daughter, he'd never loved anyone that much. He'd never been afraid of losing someone that much. Never wanted and NEEDED anyone in his life so much. He'd never had to care for someone besides his daughter. And that had already been a tough task. But taking care of Joe, too? He didn't know if he was capable of that. If he was able to be strong not only for his little girl but also for the love of his life.
"You still haven't been in?"
He wasn't the least bit shocked about the low rumble that appeared suddenly right next to his ear, fully aware of the presence of the other man for a minute already before he'd spoken up. A thing between best friends. A thing Joe had often made jokes about. The after-shave the other man wore, the sound of his footsteps, the unusual calm, yet cheery aura the other held. He just knew when Cody was near. And it wasn't the first time in those 3 days that his best friend had shown up. Nor was it the first time that he shook his head at the younger man's question in a silent 'No'.
With a sigh, Cody lowered his head to his friends shoulder. It wasn't a sigh of weariness, or defeat, it was a sigh that held mostly understanding. But also disappointment. Something he was well aware of.
"Randy, you gotta go in there before he wakes up. You know that. How do you think he'll feel when he finally opens his eyes and you aren't there?"
He knew those words all too well, had heard him not only from Cody but also numerous of his friends and family-members over the past days. And he also knew the answer to Cody's question. Joe would be scared shitless. Just like him right now.
"Cody…"
He didn't need to argue with his friend, the other understood wordlessly, knew what was going through Randy's head maybe even better than the man himself. However, it didn't stop him from verbally nudging him into the right direction. While wrapping his arms around the motionless torso of his mentor, Cody spoke on…
"He's injured, Randy, but he's still the same. He's still Joe. He still loves you. And you still love him. The accident didn't change that. His injuries won't change that. You've overcome so much shit together that this here will be like a bed of roses for you. And if it becomes too much, you know you have friends and family that will help."
He squeezed his friend a little tighter to his chest, drowning out the sound of protest that wanted to rise from the older man's throat.
"You're one of the strongest people I know. And Joe, too. He'll need your help, Randy. And he needs you to be there when he wakes up. Make sure he won't flip. Reassure him that it's not the end of the world. That even if he won't be able to wrestle again or maybe even walk, that you will be there. That you two will make it. Sure, you're allowed to be scared, too, but you gotta be in there. Right by his side. Be scared with him."
Sometimes Randy really doubted Cody's age. The boy was wiser than many other of his colleagues, many of his older colleagues. He knew the Georgia-native was right. He almost always was. But that didn't help him this time.
Though he and Joe had only been together for a little less than a year, this year had been the most turbulent, most emotional, craziest and happiest in his life. They'd gone through so many ups and down in those few months that it had often left them dizzy, drained and completely exhausted, but together they had managed everything. Until now. Now was the first time, Randy really worried. For Joe and for them.
Until Joe, he always had to be the strong one in his relationships, the one to take care of his partners, male or female. Nevertheless, with the Samoan man that had changed completely. He'd finally been able to let go. To feel save instead of giving safety. To show weakness. One of the major reasons he'd fallen so hard and so fast for the younger man. But now that was going to change. He'd have to be the strong one again. Take care of the other. Make him feel worth, safe, comfortable. Take away his fears. Take away their fears. A task that seemed almost impossible now.
"Randy… You'll make it."
He'd closed his eyes a while ago, just feeling, enjoying the bit of comfort his friend's embrace provided him with. His breathing and his heart-beat had calmed down to a normal rate again until he opened his eyes and looked straight at the unconscious man lying inside the hospital-bed. Eventually he'd have to go in there, take Joe's hand, kiss his cold lips, and speak encouraging words to him. Eventually he'd have to face reality. But he wasn't ready yet.
His head was resting on Joe's chest as it so often had before. His left hand was laying on top of Joe's, his other hand lazily drawing circles on the unconscious man's stomach. His eyes were closed, the heavy rings underneath showing his exhaustion, a sign of the many sleepless nights. Six days now and the younger man still wouldn't wake up.
"Sometimes it takes a while. People stay in a coma for weeks, months, before they wake up. It's suspected that they have some sort of memory, some sort of dream that needs to be finished dreaming that keeps them unconscious. I'm sure he'll be waking up soon."
He didn't even respond to the doctor, too often now had he heard that excuse, all kind of excuses, weak explanations, attempts to make him feel better. Joe's bruises had already faded to a dark yellow, the color slightly returned to his still cold, soft skin. His features looked neither strained nor pained. He looked almost peaceful. If it weren't for all the wires and tubes, someone might think he was sleeping. And maybe he was. Sleeping off the drama, the action, and the draining events from the past months.
One more day and they'd have their first anniversary.
"You know, the first night I stayed over at yours…" His lips involuntarily twitched into a tiny smile as he spoke, dreaming of better times, "… The morning after I woke up, just like now. I lay exactly like now. You were still sound asleep. I woke up, a little disoriented at first, but as soon as your steady heartbeat reached my ears… I felt safe. Home. At ease. I've never told you before, but I watched you that morning. Same position as now. I turned my head as soon as I'd opened my eyes and looked at you. Your peaceful features. The tiny smile on your lips. You looked so relaxed. At ease. So content with yourself and the world." A little sound leaves Randy's lips, something that sounds almost like a chuckle; though full of sadness and despair. "I think that was exactly the moment that I knew I wanted you. And no one else ever. Watching you made me become aware of how good it felt to let loose. To let go. Show weakness. To let someone else take care of you for a change." His voice drifted off as his eyes fluttered open and followed the movement of his fingers, drawing circles on Joe's hospital-gown-covered abs. "I promise I'm gonna take care of you. I'm there for you whenever you need me. But… I'm scared, ya know? Scared that it's getting too much for me. Or maybe even for you. Scared that I can't give you what you want. Or need."
A laugh left his lips, a sarcastic, dry one as he raised his head and looked at the relaxed features of his lover. He can't help but smile a little at how peaceful the other looks despite the situation.
"It's ridiculous, I know. Then again, my ridiculous thinking is what made you fall for me, right? My over-dramatic, always doubting over thinking of even the smallest things. My stubbornness."
He lifted himself up enough to place a kiss to Joe's temple, his eyes not leaving the younger man's features, scanning them for a reaction, any sign that the other was awake, heard him, and would open his eyes any second. But he got nothing. Not that he had expected anything different.
"I'm not gonna give up on you that easily. I told you often enough that you're stuck with me forever. No chance you'll get rid of me. I'm gonna fight for us. You know that, right?"
He had said that after their first big fight, remembering how Joe hadn't said a word, had just watched him, intensely, for many, many seconds, before he'd kissed the breath out of him. Through every crisis they'd had, they'd come out even stronger, and Randy hoped that this situation would end just the same. If they managed to overcome that accident and its consequences, they'd be indestructible.
"I know you can hear me, you big goof. So, stop being selfish and wake up." His voice was firm as he said that, his eyes scanning Joe's face, his eyes, his lips, every tiny bit of the other's features, waiting, agonizingly long seconds, minutes, before he sighed and lay his head down on Joe's chest again. Just wake up, baby. I miss you so fucking much."
Another three days lay behind him, another three days of little to no sleep, another three days of waiting and hoping. He hadn't woken. He hadn't moved. Their anniversary had gone by in a blur. Just like the other days. His parents had been there, Cody, John, Jon and Colby. Joe's brothers. They'd all visited, brought flowers, talked to him, talked to Joe. But the other hadn't even blinked. His lids hadn't moved. His fingers hadn't twitched. His breathing hadn't hitched.
What had happened though was a slight change in his heart rate when his friends had been there. The monitor had shown. And Randy had heard, head -like always- resting on Joe's chest. The bickering between Colby and Jon had led to a faster heartbeat. Randy had smiled then. He'd come to get used to the two guys. It had taken a while, a few months, after all, they'd started as nothing more than colleagues, but somehow Joe had managed to make them get close to each other. Make them become friends. And now he wouldn't want to miss them in his life anymore. Just like Cody and John. Just like Joe.
He sighed as he leaned back in his chair, rolling his head to loosen up the stiffness in his neck a little. Someone might think that after a week, they'd give him something more comfortable to sit on or maybe even lay on, but then again he was lucky enough to be allowed to stay over night. They weren't married after all. Engaged, yes, freshly, but not married.
A smile crossed his lips as he thought back to the moment, a few weeks ago, so unlike them, so unlike their whole relationship. Nothing rocky, nothing complicated, nothing stressful. Raw had been over, they'd left the usual after-show party early, after only an hour, to snuggle up in bed together, Randy watching TV, Joe checking football results on his iPhone. He remembered thinking about how at ease he had felt that moment, how natural, how he wanted that for the rest of his life. Just that. Having someone to go to bed with, to wake up with, and to watch TV with; having someone who made him feel comfortable and safe, who he didn't have to constantly please by acting; someone who accepted him the way he was.
He'd smirked then, rolling over so he'd been on top of Joe. "Marry me!" Joe'd looked up from his phone and raised an eyebrow, a low-rumbled "Hm?" had left his plush lips and he'd repeated the words. "Marry me!" Joe had studied his face for a long time, probably to find out if he'd been serious about it, before he'd claimed Randy's lips with his and murmured only one single word. "Sure." Simple. Easy. Just the way Joe was. The reason why he loved him so much.
"I love you." He whispered the words against Joe's lips before he trailed his thumb over them, smiling a little as Joe's lips twitched. His gaze traveled to the hazel-eyes lying behind closed lids, watching closely, intensely as they fluttered a little. But sadly, it was the only movement he got. Joe was still far away.
His phone vibrated in his jeans, and though he was reluctant to break the contact with his lover, he fumbled for it and read the caller-ID quickly before getting out of his chair and answering it.
"Hey, Paul."
"Randy. How are you?"
Sighing, he turned to Joe again, cracking a sad smile.
"Tired."
"Yeah, I guessed that. How is Joe?"
He sat down again on the chair, reaching his other hand out to place it in his lover's.
"Still not awake. But he's stable. The doctor said he might just be sleeping judging by all his results."
He heard the acknowledging hum on the other side, eyes fixated on Joe's peaceful features; somewhat wishing that he could get that kind of rest, too. He almost envied his lover, because he already knew what would come.
"I'm sorry for that. But… You know we need you here. Joe being out is already bad enough. I can't give you another week off."
Exactly what he had suspected. For days already. That's why he already had his answer ready.
"Paul, I'm not gonna come back until Joe is alright again. I think you know that already. You can threaten me, you can suspend me, do whatever you want. It won't change anything. I can't and won't leave him alone."
The sigh on the other end told him that the son of his boss wasn't happy with the answer, but that didn't really matter. Neither Paul nor Vince could do anything to make him leave Joe's side for the next weeks.
"Write me out of the storyline. You told fans I'm injured anyways. Make it a bigger injury. It lets Ambrose look even stronger and more badass. Seriously, Paul, you'll find a way. It isn't the first time one of the guys needs time off."
The man on the other end was dead silent, probably at a loss for words, not knowing how to argue his points. Thankfully, because he didn't have the strength to argue. Not after the straining past days.
"No pay as long as you're gone, Orton. Your share of the merchandise will be the only money you'll get. And when you're back, I want you at 150% percent. One small mistake and you'll be off the paylist again."
For anyone who didn't know Paul -fans, media, strangers- that would've sounded cruel, like an absolute overreaction, but to Randy -and even Joe if he'd heard it- it sounded nothing more but fair. Him and his lover had enough money on the bank to get them over many, many months anyways. That was going to be their smallest problem.
"Thanks, Paul."
He was tired, very tired, resting his head on Joe's chest again and closing his eyes. The past days and the less than joyful perspective had worn him out. All he wanted was some rest.
"I hope he wakes up, soon, Orton. And I hope you take care of yourself, too."
The line went dead after Paul's words and he managed to somehow stack away his phone in his pants again without moving too much. It was late already, dark outside and the only lights in the room came from the monitor surveiling Joe and the small bedside lamp. It was time for a little rest.
TBC
The next (and last) chapter will be there next week. Maybe sooner, maybe later. I'm thankful for any feedback I get. :)
