A/N: This is the final chapter of this story. It's the sequel to chapter twelve. Thank you, all of you, for your support and reviews. You really do help me make it through my writing. I hope you enjoy this sequel and the final chapter of the story. R&R. Enjoy!

Wake Up

Twenty-Five: Wake Up

Groaning and not wanting to wake up but having no other choice, John opened his eyes. Light, bright and glaring, assaulted his vision and he groaned again and closed them, shaking his head.

The noises around him were strange and foreign. Beeping of monitors; a machine pump of some kind; the electrical buzz that all machines gave off; they all confused him. He really didn't know where he was and he didn't want to open his eyes again because he didn't want to face the blaring lights. Instead, he tried to think about what had happened, although his mind was such a jumbled mess that it hurt to think about it too much.

He had been driving home from the store. Cody and Ted had come over to his and Randy's place and John decided to cook, so he left to get some ingredients. On his way back, a car in the other lane was coming towards him and John knew right off the bat that the driver was wasted. The car could stay in its lane; it kept swerving and stopping at random moments, so he drove a little under the speed limit, trying to keep it safe and get past the moron. However, the drunk driver sped up and the last thing he could remember was bright lights coming towards him head on and a loud, ear-piercing scream of metal against metal, car against car.

And then, nothing.

After that, everything was a blank. A large blank full of blackness and darkness and pain and confusion. But John had a feeling in his gut and he knew where he was and what had happened. The drunk driver hit him and he was in the hospital. Oh God…

Opening his eyes, John blinked several times to adjust his bright blues to the room. He tried to sit up and had to suppress the scream of pain that resulted from his actions. Since it was obvious that he wouldn't be able to sit up, at least not yet, he opted to look around the room. The right side showed a bunch of monitors and machines that did who knows what, as well as a white wall with a tanned door in the middle of it. A bathroom? Perhaps, but as it was closed he really couldn't tell. Looking over to the right, he gasped as he saw an exhausted and sorrow ridden Randy asleep in the one and only chair in the room.

Oh God, Randy looked awful. He hated thinking that, but it was true. John's heart squeezed as he gazed at his husband. It was obvious that Randy had been crying a lot: his eyes, although closed, still looked red and puffy, his cheeks were stained with old tears, and his face was all around puffy and red. This was a first time for him; sure, he had seen Randy tear up, but he had never seen the younger man flat out snot cry. That frightened him and he realized that the state he was in must have been far worse than he originally thought.

Randy must have felt John's eyes on him because he stirred and started waking up. When his icy blues meet John's bright ones, it was as though time had stopped. There was nothing else in the room, nothing to stand between them and keep them separated anymore. It was just the two of them. Nothing else mattered, not at that moment.

"John…" Randy's voice sounded strained, tired, and hoarse. John felt tears sting his eyes. He was the cause of Randy's current state, because he didn't just pull over and wait for that damned driver to pass him.

"R-Randy…" John's voice sounded much like Randy's, but he didn't care. The tears that had built up were falling freely now and, before he could even blink, Randy was up and at his side.

"Baby…Why…why are you crying?" John bit his lip and silently cursed to himself as he had bit down on a cut that he didn't realize was there. Looking up at his husband, who looked so relieved and tremendously happy, John knew that his accident was far worse than he thought.

"I… You…you were crying…" Randy nodded and, very gently, as though he were afraid that John would break, he stroked John's cheek. Subconsciously, John leaned into the caress and Randy's smile widened.

"Yeah….You worried me to death, Johnny…" More guilt flooded him and John looked away.

"I…I'm sorry… I shouldn't have…have gone out. If I would have just…stayed home or…or pulled over, I wouldn't have… I'm sorry…"

"John. This is not your fault. You wanted to do something for me. For Ted and Cody. Because you care about us and you wanted to show us that. Whoever that drunk drive is, they're a fucking idiot and they will pay when I found out who they are. Look at me, John-John." Reluctantly, John looked up at Randy and he felt a jolt of electricity surge throughout his body when their gazes connected.

"This. Is. Not. Your. Fault. Got it?" John nodded and then winced at the pain it caused him.

"Got it." Randy smiled and leaned down to place a tender, loving kiss to John's cheek, careful not to hit his burns or bruises.

"Good. Now, I'm going to go and tell the doctor you're awake. I love you, John. So much. I'm glad you came back to me." John smiled up at his husband.

"I love you too, Randy. And I'll always come back to you. No matter what."