Yup, I'm on a roll. Another part for you, guys, because I love you ;D

Bluestar711: Thx and maybe this chapter answers some of your questions.

jenimik: It is, isn't it? D:

vampqueen440: Thx! When will the first part be up? I'm curious :-)

BrightAsNight: I'm a bad girl, I know… :3

Alonia187: Thx ;3 Glad you liked it and hey, I even managed to update soon ;D And no, nothing annoying about your advice. And since I have no interest in being kicked out, I changed the rating.

Guest: Not finished, it just started. And thx, too :-)

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Hot tears spilled from his eyes and he heard himself tell the doctor to leave him alone. And a second time when the man insisted to stay. Then he saw a nod from the corner of his eye and a moment later he saw him leave. The door closed with a somehow foreboding thud.

Quietness fell over the room and in that quietness it seemed that the echoes of his own thoughts came back to him.

Randy would die. He would die.

Sitting there, numb yet filled with screaming pain, he tried to wake up from this nightmare… Moments passed by… endless, painful moments… And when John eventually managed to get up from the chair, he had no idea how long he'd been sitting in the little room. Ten minutes? Twenty? To him it felt like an eternity, yet too soon to go back to the younger man. Anger, grief, despair, they were only broken bits… he had no words for what he felt.

Slowly he got up from the chair and left the room. His feet found their way to Randy's room on their own, carrying him ever so slowly but steadily further and further through the corridor until he reached the door he right now didn't want to pass. He simply wasn't sure if he had the strength to get through this. His heart raced, pounded heavily, painfully against his chest and stole his breath away. Closing his eyes for a brief moment he tried to gather at least a bit of self-control and with trembling hands he pushed the door open and stepped in.

Hesitantly he walked towards the table, avoiding Randy's gaze. He didn't want the younger man to see that he'd been crying. He sat down, folding his hands and tried to calm his heart down and to muster the strength to keep his voice steady.

"Where have you been?" Randy asked quietly, but John kept his eyes on his folded hands. "John?"

"Why..." John started, but his voice failed him and he had to clear his throat. "Why do you want to die?"

The question hung heavy in the sudden silence of the room and John didn't need to look up. He felt Randy's piercing eyes on him.

"What the hell do you mean?" Randy asked, but his voice sounded strained and betrayed the younger man, telling John that Randy exactly knew what he meant.

Bracing his elbows on the table, John buried his face in his hands and tried to take a breath he did not have to bite back the tears that threatened to fall again. John wanted to say something, but the words wouldn't pass his lips. Silence fell again for a minute or two before he finally managed to speak.

"The tumors, Randy," he whispered pained and at his words he heard the younger man's breathing become harsher.

"That's none of your business, Cena," Randy snapped suddenly.

Still not looking up, the older man replied quietly: "That's where you're wrong, Randy. You made it my business the second you let me in."

He heard Randy take a deep breath but he kept quiet otherwise.

"You're going die without a treatment and you know that. So why, Randy?" John asked and again his voice broke.

"I don't want to be a living vegetable, John!" the younger man hissed. "I'd rather die than end up like that!"

John jumped up from his chair as if it had burned him and with a few quick strides he was at the bedside, leaning close to Randy, his eyes burning with emotions.

"And I didn't pull you out of that damn wreck and saved your ass to watch you die now!" John shouted, not angry but full of despair.

Randy held his gaze, his face a careful blank mask.

"Maybe I would have been better if I'd died in that damn car…" Randy stated bitterly.

The way he said those words… so cold, resigned… it tore John apart and he had to sit down on the bed when he felt his knees go weak. Burying his face in his hands, he tried hard to breathe and hold back the tears that came back, tried to bite back a sob. But it escaped his lips. A single, wailing sound.

Avoiding to look at what he'd caused, Randy closed his eyes. His own eyes burned suspiciously. He hadn't intended to hurt John, but he'd been serious with what he'd said. And he still did not understand why John cared so much.

When he opened his eyes again he saw John look up to him, his eyes reddened. There were tears running down the older man's cheeks and Randy wanted to reach out to wipe them away, wanted to comfort him, but he didn't. Slowly it dawned on him that he started to care for John, more than he ever again wanted to care about someone else… and it scared him…

"No one would care if I died or not," he whispered, the blank mask wavering. "So why the hell do you care?"

"Don't you get it? I care because I know that you are worth all the trouble it takes to get closer to you," John whispered back because he didn't trust his voice not to break, willing all his feelings into those words to make Randy finally and really understand that he was serious. "I saw you back then. The real, amiable Randy and I like him, very much. I know he's still there, because in the past two days I saw him here…" John reached out, letting his hand hover over Randy's heart. "And I'm willed to take every damn insult, every damn offending word you want to throw at me, every shiner... I… I'm willed to do anything... just... don't die."

His words had been barely audible, but he could see in Randy's eyes that he'd heard them and that he finally really got through to him. The mask fell. For once those grey eyes weren't guarded while they watched him. They were wide open and vulnerable, revealing depths that spoke of disappointment in the past, loneliness, sadness and… hope? In that very second John saw… felt the remains of the well-built walls around the younger man's heart finally crumble.

"You are not alone. I'm gonna be at your side if you let me, Randy," he promised and it was a promise he would keep, at all costs.

Randy gazed out of the window, his eyes distant.

"They all promised to stay at my side and in the end I was on my own..." he choked. "I don't want an agonizing chemo and I don't want a surgery. My parents, Sam… they all left me because they couldn't accept that…"

A single tear rolled down the younger man's cheek and without losing a thought about it, John wiped it away with the gentlest of touches. The grey eyes closed when his fingers brushed over Randy's cheek. For the first time Randy didn't only tolerate his touch… he seemed to welcome it and John felt a warm feeling grow in his chest despite Randy's bitter words.

He couldn't accept this decision either and he was determined to make Randy fight for his life… but in the end he would stand by him, no matter which way he would choose. He had to be strong for both of them. Cupping the younger man's face with his hands, he made him look at him again.

"I don't want you to die, Randy," he whispered, "but I'm not them. I'm not gonna let you down, whatever comes. I'm not gonna let you down."

Carefully he crawled onto the bed and settled beside Randy, wrapping his arms around the younger man. He wanted to hold him as close as possible, wanted to pull him out of his own personal hell and shield him from everything that could harm him. Randy turned his face into the broad chest, holding onto John for dear life… and broke down in silent sobs. John rested his cheek against the short hair, mumbling soothing words.

And while he held Randy, a realization found him and he closed his eyes, trying hard to shut it out. But he failed and with every single beat of his heart it felt like it was being ripped out…

x

The night was as dark as it could be while John walked up the stairs to Phil's house. The bottle of Southern Comfort he'd emptied during his taxis drive sat accusingly on top of the trash can beside the house. The alcohol didn't have the effect John had hoped it would have. It didn't numb the pain a bit. Ever since the doctor had revealed him the truth the pain threatened to devour him.

Randy had cried in his arms for more than an hour, clinging to him before exhaustion took its toll and he fell asleep. Even then John had kept holding him tight until a nurse told him that it was time to go. And when he finally left, it felt like he was letting Randy down. Like the younger man's life was slipping through John's fingers.

With a breathless sob John leaned against the frame of the massive front door and hesitantly he knocked, the dull sound disturbing the quietness of the night. Only a moment later he heard steps and then door was opened by a frowning Phil.

"Sunshine? What are you doing here at such a godless hour?" he asked slowly.

John walked in, like a zombie. Phil closed the door and turned around to him just to see him collapse to the floor, sitting there, hunched over. With two quick strides he was at John's side but John didn't react. Only when gentle hands cupped his face he looked up, though he didn't even realize the touch. His eyes were distant, dazed.

"John… good God, what happened?"

And John began to tremble ever so slightly, his breath hitching. His eyes drifted away from Phil's, becoming more and more distant.

"John?" Phil whispered, worried like he'd never been before in his entire life. "Hey, look at me…"

Those blue eyes, wide, pained, empty, locked with his.

"Talk to me," Phil urged to finally tell him what was wrong, letting his hands slip a little further down. "Come on, you're really scaring me…"

This time John felt a light touch… on his neck. Phil's hands… and his thumbs were tenderly brushing over the skin there. His first impulse was to jerk away from the touch. His second was to lay his own hands on Phil's and hold them there. Warmth and a feeling of safeness radiated from the touch. It was the first kind of real comfort he felt in… in a very long time.

"What happened?" the younger man asked. "Is something wrong with Randy?"

Again a sob escaped John's lips and Phil knew he was right. His brows furrowed in grief as he searched John's face. He knew the older man wouldn't tell him what was wrong. At least not now.

For a heartbeat John closed his eyes, whispering: "I love him…"

Words like these were supposed to warm a heart, to lighten up a life, to heal, to save… to be the purest of joy. Words like these shouldn't be filled with so much despair, pain, guilt and fear, the way they sounded the very moment they had left John's lips. Admitting your feelings for someone shouldn't be like that…

"I know," Phil said, gently wiping away the tears that ran down John's cheeks.

"Phil, I don't know how to carry on…" John whispered again, his voice cracking, failing him.

"Just be there for him," the younger man replied and he scooted closer to John, pulling him into a tender embrace.

"I'm not sure anymore if I am strong enough…"

The words sounded so hollow, so lost, that Phil had to blink back tears, which suddenly stung in his eyes.

"You are strong enough, John. You are probably the strongest person I've ever met. Look at all the shit you already went through. If there's someone who can do this, it's you," Phil said softly, resting his cheek against the older man's temple. "He can count himself lucky that you are at his side. I would. And you are not alone, John. I'm there for you, okay?"

Maybe the alcohol finally kicked in the way it was supposed to, maybe his body started to shut down… or maybe it was because of Phil's words… but for the first time since he'd left the hospital the pain seemed to lessen a bit. He watched as his friend took one of his hands, got up and urged him to get up, too. He did, coming to stand on shaky legs and without giving the slightest resistance, he let himself being pulled over to the living-room and to the couch, where Phil signaled him to sit down.

"Wait here, I'll be back in a minute, okay?"

Nodding slowly, he watched Phil leave and then he heard busy sounds coming from the next room. A short while later the younger man came back in, wearing boxers and a shirt. He carried a blanket and a pillow.

"You can have the bed," Phil said, throwing the bedding on the couch. "I'm staying here on the couch."

"No, your couch is comfy," John murmured, his eyes fixed on Phil who stood waiting in front of him. "Gonna stay here. I don't think that I can sleep anyway."

"No way, John. I bet if you close your eyes you'll be asleep in a second. You're drunk as a newt and you gotta sleep that off. In a bed, not on a couch. Period," Phil replied decidedly and held out a hand to help John up, whose eyes snapped to the hand.

After a moment John let his gaze wander from Phil's hand to his face. Tilting his head a little to the side as he searched his friend's face, making Phil frown in confusion. Again he wondered why was it that he'd never before noticed that Phil was such a good friend? What a loss…

Phil was about to ask what was wrong, when John reached out to take his hand. But instead of pulling John up he found himself being pulled down with an unexpected and forceful tug from John, ending up lying half on top of him, their noses almost touching.

"I'm staying on your couch," John said quietly. "Period."

"Uhm… okay," Phil gave in, too surprised to do otherwise.

Too surprised and too close to John…

It was the way Phil's voice sounded, a little breathless, a little shaken, that made John pause. His eyes roamed the other man's face, stopped at his eyes. They were widened a little and of an interesting color. Green? And brown… Suddenly he felt very aware of the warmth radiating from Phil, who was still laying half on top of him. An inviting, comforting warmth… His eyes flicked to the lip-piercing. That ring… it glistened in the dim light, asking for attention.

And when Phil eventually tried to get off of him, John didn't let him, kept holding the other man's hand in a vice-grip.

He would just need to lean forward a little to close the gap… no one would ever know about it… He would find out how it felt to kiss a man. It was so damn tempting… Phil was so damn tempting… the way he cared… the fact that he was there for him, anytime… the unconditional friendship he provided…

… or more?

Why not? He felt more for Randy than he should and he couldn't stop the feelings he was developing for the younger man. Feelings which would forever be one-sided. It wasn't even cheating… Was it wrong to crave a little comfort? Did it make a difference? He was screwed anyway.

Phil shifted against him, placed his free hand on John's chest and John's own free arm wrapped around Phil's waist to stop him from bringing more space between them. After a moment Phil stopped pushing away from him and hesitantly settled against him. He would never hold Randy the way he held Phil this very moment…

"I'm not gay," John whispered, more to himself than to Phil.

"I know," Phil whispered back nevertheless.

When John finally let go of Phil's hand, he buried his fingers in Phil's shirt and closed his eyes when the other man's hands found their way back to the spots on his neck where they had been minutes before. He felt tender fingers brush the skin there and he couldn't help but pull the body in his arms closer and when he opened his eyes again he looked straight into Phil's, those open depths drawing him in…

He didn't know who kissed whom first. A gentle touch of soft lips… leaving a wonderful tingle in its wake… A low hum escaped his throat and he felt Phil smile against his lips. He found himself wanting more and he pulled the man in his arms even closer, onto his lap, letting his hands crawl under the shirt where they found surprisingly soft skin. Fingertips brushed over that tempting skin, mapping the muscled back, eliciting a gasp from Phil and John used the chance to deepen the kiss.

It felt good… so very good… Offending shirts were disposed and then Phil started to kiss his way down to his jaw, to his neck, nipping and biting and then he found that spot under his ear, sending jolts straight to Johns groin, making his dick stir.

Not enough…

Without a warning he rolled over until Phil was lying under him and he kissed him hard, while his hands roamed the body underneath him, drawing out little moans and gasps from the other man. And then John pressed his hips down, feeling a matching hardness that made him lightheaded…

"Stop," Phil panted suddenly. "Stop…"

John didn't want this to stop and he claimed the other man's mouth again, but then he felt himself being pushed away.

"John, stop."

Closing his eyes he tried to calm down. The room was filled with their heavy breathing and for a while neither of them moved. After cooling down a little he opened his eyes again, searching Phil's. They seemed almost completely black due to the dilated pupils, his face was flushed and he was trembling a little.

"Why?" John rasped.

"Because you're going to regret this tomorrow…"

"No, I'm not," he growled and leaned down.

"Yes, you are," Phil said breathless, pushing him back up. "You are, believe me."

John exhaled audibly and Phil gave him a rueful smile, framing his face with his hands.

"John, under different circumstances I would be a very happy man right now. I like you, very, very much and that's why I can't let this happen. You are drunk and I don't know what happened today, but this isn't a solution."

John closed his eyes and whispered: "But I want this."

"No, no. Open your eyes and look at me," Phil commanded and John obeyed. "You tell me that tomorrow when you're sober and I'll have you flat on your back in a blink. Okay?"

"No…" John whispered again. "Please, I need this… I…"

Phil shook his head.

"No, John," he cut him off. "This is not what you need. It's going to make everything worse. You love Randy and you're going to hate yourself tomorrow if we don't stop right now."

John remained where he was and when Phil began to crawl out from under him he held him back, casting his eyes down.

"Can you… stay here? Please, I don't want to be alone right now. I promise not to try anything."

Phil brushed his hands through his face. He wasn't sure if it was a good idea… but couldn't let him stay alone down here to cope with his feelings, could he? No, he couldn't…

"Sure…" he murmured, lay back down and smiled when John settled beside him, with his head on Phil's shoulder and an arm wrapping around his waist. "I'm not gonna go anywhere."

He pulled the blanket up and almost missed the whispered thanks from John.

"Sleep," he replied quietly and let his fingers brush over John's arm.

The soft caress calmed him, yet it gave the events of the day the chance to invade his mind again and the pain flared up to its full force. Randy would die… Searing it cut through him, making his whole body go numb, yet it burned, white hot and devouring.

"It'll be alright, Sunshine," Phil whispered and breathed a kiss on John's forehead. "You're not alone."

With that Phil turned a little towards John to pull him even closer, entangling their legs and tucking John's head under his chin. Damp warmth on his shoulder told him that John had started to cry again, silently, and seeing a man like John being so devastated, seeing him cry and so lost, was crushing.

"Phil…"

The name left John's lips as a shaky breath and he held onto him for dear life, trying to hide from reality and as Phil started to whisper comforting words to him, he tried to wrap them around himself like a shield. But reality knew where he was and it stayed at his side until sleep found him eventually…