Now, now, here is part 4. A Johnny-POV.

Sorry, I don't have much time to write lately but I hope it'll get better soon :3

Anyway, hope you'll like it!

I pulled into the driveway and shut the motor off. For a moment I stared at my hands on the steering wheel, before looking to my left at Randy's car. So he was already there. Or still.

Ever since the moment Stephen had told me he would come with me… because Randy had asked him to… ever since then I felt a mixture of nervousness, fear and anger simmer in my guts because in a way I wanted to see him, yet I did not. I missed him but I was still pissed and I was scared that he might make a final cut. The fact that he wanted Stephen here wasn't helping.

I got out of my car with my eyes still on Randy's and they caught a glimpse of his bag. So he hadn't taken his stuff back in and I wondered if that meant that he was afraid I would kick him out… or if he didn't plan on staying.

On my way to the front door I saw Stephen's car stop in front of the house and although he had asked me to wait for him, I couldn't. I needed to go in there, needed to see him and the door jumped open under my hands. My heart began to race, pounding hard against my chest, making it difficult to breath and the knot in my guts grew as I stepped in, leaving the door open for Stephen.

I didn't have to go far before my eyes caught sight of him, standing at the counter with our family portrait in his hands. The man I saw there standing wasn't the man who told me we should take a break. He looked at it with such a longing that it tugged painfully at my heart and my determinedness.

"John…" he said quietly, breathless almost.

Somehow it made my skin crawl. He sounded scared and it made me feel goddamn torn because a part of me wanted to go over and comfort him while the other hissed that he deserved it. He had been the one who destroyed all we had. But then he turned his face slightly towards me and the expression I found there shook me to the core. He wasn't scared… he was terrified. His eyes were big and glassy, puffy and red. He'd cried. And this very second I saw new tears spill from his eyes, running down his face. A sight I had never been able to bear because although Randy was caring, warm-hearted, loving and utterly attached to those he loved, he seldom cried so openly, not even in my presence. And I knew he only cried when something was really baldy wrong. To all the bad feelings which were already coiling up in my stomach added a misgiving.

Yeah, I was pissed and it should have been his fucking turn to make the first step this time… but I loved him and pushing aside what had happened I wanted to go over to him and gather him in my arms.

But something in his eyes shifted, giving way to… guilt, deepest, bitterest guilt… and he stopped me with a pained don't that made my skin crawl again.

Behind me I heard the door being closed and quiet steps, coming to stop beside me and for the first time Stephen had told me he would come home with me I was grateful that he was here. From the corner of my eye I saw him nod. And then I watched as Randy's brows furrowed in pure sorrow. Turning his face away from me again he gazed back at the picture he still held in his hands.

"I'm so sorry, John," he whispered as if his voice refused to work and I found myself unable to say even one word, paralyzed by the bad feelings in my guts as they got heavier. I heard how his breath hitched as he trailed his fingertips lovingly over the picture and then, so very quietly, he continued: "I'm sorry for what I said to you. I never meant it, I was just… so fucking scared that I could lose Ally and… I don't know why I snapped. You were right, there was no reason to. You were so goddamn right with everything you said and I should have trusted you because… shit, I know you would have found a way because you always do. You always do…"

Maybe I could have expected a better apology from him. Maybe. But I wouldn't even have given a fucking shit if he would just have settled for a simple sorry, because fuck, it was highly visible that he really was sorry. I knew him, knew that he wasn't good at talking and I simply loved this goddamn bastard too much to not accept even his lousiest attempt to say sorry. Yet… this hadn't been all he wanted to say. The feeling that there was more to come hung heavy in the air between us. Very carefully he placed the picture back down and braced his hands on the edge of the counter, hanging his head in defeat and I couldn't recall that I had ever seen him so small, so lost. Maybe I was weak but who cared? I for sure as hell not. Not anymore. Every fiber of my body screamed to comfort him, feel him.

Again I wanted to go over to him, wanted to show him that it would we would be okay again when I felt Stephen's hand on my shoulder, holding me back and surprised I tried to shake it off, but his hold got firmer and he curtly shook his head no. What really stopped me though was the expression on his face. Like he knew that there was more, that there was something worse than what had already happened. Gazing back to Randy I found him still bracing on the counter, trembling. He was breathing fast and shallow, close to hyperventilating. And suddenly I felt like throwing up.

"Randy?" was all I managed to say, the single word choked, with so many questions lying in it.

But it was the one question that lay smothering on my mind. What the fuck happened?

He lifted a trembling hand, wiping the wetness from his face before he hesitantly looked at me again, adding in a voice so desperate my heart ached: "I never wanted to break up. I love you, John, so much it hurts, that it tears me apart. I love you so damn much like never before anyone else and I don't know how to live without you."

His voice trailed off at the last words, dropping to a begging whisper, while the tears kept running down his face. The knot of all those bad feelings in my stomach was slowly becoming unbearable although it should have been otherwise. Randy was apologizing but his words were thick with something I couldn't put my fingers on and the way he stood there…

Wrenching my shoulder free I slowly walked over to him, stopping as he flinched hard. It sent a cold shiver down my spine and made the hair on my neck stand on end. A lump formed in my throat and I had to swallow hard to clear it.

"It's okay, Randy," I replied, trying to sound as calming as possible although I was far from being calm. "Calm down. We're gonna be okay."

There was a slight catch in his movement as he finally straightened up, stifling a sob.

"No, we're not. I've ruined it," he said then unsteady, his voice close to breaking as he turned to face me.

"No, you didn't…" I began, wanting to tell him that he should stop worrying but the words died in my throat.

I froze and my world stopped turning as my eyes found a purple mark on his neck. A mark that hadn't been there the last time I had seen him. It hadn't… it hadn't been there…

No, nonono, please no, someone tell me it's not true…

Reaching blindly for the couch as I felt my knees go weak my fingers found it and I sat down on the armrest, my eyes still fixed on that fucking mark. The knot in my guts uncurled. I couldn't breathe. My blood was buzzing in my ears… I opened my mouth to ask why but I had no breath left to speak. Yet he seemed to understand and I watched him pale even more.

"After you left, I… I wanted to see Ally," he began to explain monotone, guilty… beaten… "She was with her grandparents. Sam… she offered me to stay at the guest room and…"

I heard his words through the buzzing in my ears and it was her name that hit me like a blow, the meaning of what he was telling me causing my body to go numb.

"Sam?" I breathed, refusing to accept it but it was the fucking reality. "Sam," I hissed and saw Randy flinch and back off.

I wanted to be angry but I couldn't. All there was… was utter and cold disappointment. First he had to freak out and then he had nothing better to do than going to his ex-wife and… It was a hickey, a goddamn fucking hickey!

"I didn't want that, I… I was drunk and I can't remember how it happened. I can't even remember what happened at all," he whispered as he took a hesitant step towards me. "When I woke up this morning it was there. John, I know that being drunk isn't an excuse but…"

"You're damn right, being drunk is no bloody excuse for fucking your ex-wife!" I spat, the feeling of disappointment and betrayal burning a hole in my heart. "You know what can happen when you get drunk and you've got nothing better to do than to boozing your brains out with her around?! But hey, you broke up with me, so it wasn't even cheating, was it?"

With slow steps he approached me but I saw him flinch again as my words hit home. As much as I had wanted to have him close a few minutes ago, right now I couldn't stand the mere thought right now, so I got up, bringing some distance between us again.

"I love you, not her, Johnny," he begged as he gingerly followed me.

He was holding a hand out to me. My eyes dropped to it for a brief moment, noticing that it was trembling, that Randy was still trembling and when I looked back up to him instead of taking it, it dropped lifelessly to his side.

"Yeah, Randy, and I love you but that doesn't change anything. I came here, hoping we could talk and just forget the shit that happened. You know, I stopped counting how often you pulled bullshit on me but it has never been something I couldn't get over but this is something I can't forget."

Scrubbing my face with my hands I groaned quietly in defeat as my life broke to pieces. I could cope with his usual messing things up but betrayal and disloyalty were things I couldn't live with and he knew that. He knew that very well and if possible he paled even more, shaking his head slightly no. He swayed lightly and from the corner of my eye I saw Stephen step up to him, steadying him.

"I'm done with this," I added quietly, my voice trembling for a second before I coughed it away. "I want you out here today. I'm gonna ask Vince for a few days off and visit my parents. You can get the rest your stuff when I'm away."

With that I turned away from him and walked over to the stairs in an attempt to escape the here and now. It hurt. My heart, my body, my soul, it fucking hurt. My name was being called, tearstained, begging, but I willed my feet to move forward and just when I reached the stairs there were quick steps behind me and fingers that closed around my wrist to hold me back.

"Please, John, please, don't do that," he whispered right beside me. "I'm gonna do anything you want me to, just… just give me a last chance. I beg you."

I couldn't look him in the eyes because I knew it might break me if I did, so instead I gazed down at his hand holding on to my wrist and hissed as a sudden urge to get away crawled up my back: "Let go!"

A moment of hesitation. Another whispered, begging please. And then his fingers slipped from my arm. I went up to our… my bedroom without another word, without another glance back. Closing the door behind me I let my eyes roam the room that only three days ago had been filled with perfect happiness. Just like the whole house. And now? It seemed like the happiness had been absorbed by a leaden void.

My eyes roamed further and on their way through the room they found the he had been reading lately, the CD he'd been hearing. On the bed lay the tank he'd been wearing that last night before our world came crushing down. And then my gaze fell on the closet. My feet carried me over to it and my hands opened the doors, blindly feeling between my old sweaters. The situation was somehow… surreal. My fingers found what they'd been looking for, closing around the small item between the clothes… retrieving what should have been the next step in our already perfect life. Only that it had never really been perfect. In a perfect life there wouldn't have been the need to hide… us. No keeping what we had a secret, no fear of losing the custody for Ally… nothing of it would have happened.

Just when the small box snapped open between my fingers I heard the door behind me click and swing open, hoping it wasn't Randy, yet I didn't take a look who it was, keeping my eyes fixed on the ring. It was so achingly reminding me of him that after a few long seconds I had to flip the box shut again.

"John? Yer okay?"

Stephen's voice was low and worried and I had to puff a mirthless chuckle because was really asking me that.

"Oh, the love of my life just revealed me that he cheated on me with his ex. Wait, let me think… yeah, I feel goddamn amazing."

A sigh. Steps coming closer and then he was standing beside me while I still stared on the closed box.

"Sure yer doing the right thing?"

He'd asked me that once before and he had been right to ask me.

"No, I'm not," I answered, just like the last time.

Down there it had felt like the right thing to do and now, standing here with the ring in my hand, there was something nagging deep in me, telling me that maybe, just maybe I wasn't so sure anymore. But that something was barely there…

"I think yer overreacted."

Silence. He hadn't said that, had he?

"I what? Overreacted?!" I snapped, meeting his gaze. His always worried eyes met mine and what irked me the most was that he was probably right with it, that I overreacted, just like right now and I wanted to apologize but what came out was: "He just told me that he cheated on me! So I guess, no, I'm not overreacting!"

Folding his arms he replied: "He doesn't even know what happened. Cheating requires tha yer are aware of what yer are doing. Whatever happened, he didn't want it."

"Oh yeah, right, he was so drunk that he can't remember. My bad, the poor thing!" I snapped. "I beg to differ, Stephen, being drunk isn't a fucking complimentary ticket!" I watched him tighten his lips to a thin and wry line and then it dawned on me. "You knew it."

Scratching the back of his head Stephen nodded ruefully.

"Yeah, he told me when he called me this morning," he admitted softly. "Tha's why he wanted me to come with you. He wanted to make sure yer are not alone after… well, after yer kicked him out."

Averting my eyes I whispered: "You knew it…"

… after you kicked him out…

And Randy had known, too. He'd know how I would react, still he had chosen to tell me the truth instead of waiting a few days until the hickey was gone. At least I could be sure now that he would never lie to me.

"Why didn't you say a word?" I wanted to know, noticing how hoarse my voice suddenly sounded.

Stephen shrugged his shoulders and ran his fingers through his hair.

"And what exactly should I have told yer? I'm caught between two stools here, John. Yer are my friends, you and tha idiot down there, but I think I'm not the right person to tell yer tha he maybe has cheated on yer."

He had a point there. I breathed deeply, trying to get my head free but it was a vain attempt. Stepping even closer he put a hand on my shoulder, rubbing and squeezing it soothingly.

"He loves yer, John. He really loves yer."

I blinked once. Yeah, Randy did love me…

"I never doubted that, Stephen," I whispered harshly and added much softer: "And god knows I love him."

Another squeeze.

"Then why can't yer go down there and give the two of yer a last chance?"

As calm as his voice was, however he managed to keep it like this, it was insistently, dunning almost and then he rested his forehead against my temple. The innocent act of friendship sent a jolt through me, making my heart drop painfully because this kind of touch… it reminded me of Randy. Back then in my kitchen after I had revealed him my love and in my living-room before I kissed him for the first time. I could still feel his hands on my belly, remembered his voice close to my ear, his scent…

Randy…

A pained little sigh that was more of a sob fell from my lips.

"I… can't just go down there and ignore what happened. Not now. I need time," I rasped.

"I know it's hard and yer I can understand tha you need time, but I'm telling yer the same thing I told him: don't wait too long," he murmured as his hand brushed up to my nape, lingering there. "The two of yer are perfect together, so don't throw tha away. He did something very stupid, if he did it, but yer shouldn't let it destroy what the two of yer have. John, you even wanted to propose to him."

My fingers closed around the small box and my hand dropped to my side as I realized a bitter truth.

"He wouldn't have said yes," I exhaled, tipping my head back while closing my eyes as tears stung in them.

"How can yer know tha?" Stephen asked quietly. "This man loves yer, why shouldn't he have said yes?"

"Because he would know that I'm not proposing to him proforma and that sooner or later I would want to make it official," I replied then, swallowing hard on the nasty taste the words left in my mouth. "I really thought we were ready to take the next step and stop hiding but… jesus, I was so wrong. I was so damn wrong… I didn't have the faintest idea that he was so afraid about people finding out about us, he never said a fucking word. But maybe I should have known it. Huh, and here I was gloating about knowing Randy better than he knows himself and now it feels like I don't know him at all…"

I had held the box in my hand uncountable times since I had bought the ring but I couldn't remember that it had ever felt so heavy on my palm like it did now. A beautiful piece of jewelry… so useless.

"It's not yer fault, he should have talked to yer sooner but I'm sure he would have…" he began but trailed off when I turned around, making my way to the door because I didn't want the ring here any longer. "Wait, where are yer going?"

"I don't need it anymore," I muttered.

He followed me, his hand landing heavily on my shoulder to stop me but I shook it off and I heard him ask me not to do that. I ignored him. And with every step the small box weighed heavier and heavier…

A/N

Yeah, I know, all drama and stuff, but really, you now me, I can't go without it :3

It's not gonna be drama forever, promise ;D

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