This one isn't all too long but more is on its way. Any kind of comment is highly appreciated and loved ;D

Song to this chapter: Send me an angel – Scorpions

Utter silence fell, grave and accusing. Defeated. It was so thick that Randy couldn't breathe, that it almost swallowed the small, choked sounds John couldn't stifle as he cried. Almost. But not completely and those sounds clasped around Randy's heart like a painful grip. John wanted to stop the tears from falling and he tried to wipe his face dry, but without success. The tears kept coming, unstoppable, even as he closed his eyes as tightly as possible.

Randy was still too shocked to think straight or say a word but when he heard John laugh suddenly, a single, mirthless and unbearably bitter sound, he felt freezing cold reality seeped into him. It silenced his own inner battle, that nagging voice which had kept pushing John away. And it made him realize what he needed to say. That he needed to say it. The… truth. He didn't want to go… to leave John. It was what he wanted to say and panic accompanied shock. It was the pure panic that it could be too late because this time it seemed that John was serious

And then, like so many times before, it was John who made the first step, who spoke although he had every damn right to wait for him to speak… and to apologize…

"We're going in circles here, Ran. For days it's been the same. I love you and you love me, but you want me to live my life without you and you know I don't want to live my life without you being part of it. I understand you, Ran, I told you this already. I know I'll get hurt. As will you. But together we can be strong and we'll get through this. And we can be happy. Together. I don't want to give us up, you hear me?" John spoke then hushed, his voice trembling for a second and Randy's heart lurched as he heard it. And although John was barely able to breathe he coughed it away and swallowed hard, the tears still running down his face as he continued: "We fought death and we won, so why should we back down now? We can do this, we can win again. Don't let me down, Ran. Please… please, don't. I need you, dammit… I don't want to lose you…"

They hung heavy in the thickness between them… those words.

Unseen by him Randy opened his mouth but no words came over his lips. His lips twitched. And unseen by Randy… John shook his head in utter defeat, desperation and disappointment as Randy man didn't say a word. Bracing his elbows on his knees he hung his head, cradling it in his hands.

"I don't know what to do or say anymore, Randy," he sobbed then. "You know what I think, what I feel… you are my life, so don't… don't go… don't leave me…"

And finally Randy could move again. He pushed the bag from his legs and heard a thud as it fell to the floor. He noticed that he was starting to tremble as turned the wheelchair around, facing the hallway, and there was a tickling on his cheeks. When had he started to cry…? It didn't matter, did it? But John cried and that did matter and it was Randy's fault. Again. Like every single time since that first day after his coma. John mattered… ever since the first moment he'd allowed him to sneak back into his life.

"I… I don't want to go… I never wanted to leave you, John… never…" Randy said hollow. "I just… I wanted to protect you…"

For an unbearable long moment the silence lingered as John slowly lifted his head, staring at Randy with wide eyes and the expression he found on the beloved face made John's heart speed up. Vulnerability. Helplessness. And love…

He watched as the walls the younger man had so stubbornly kept up crumbled and he got up from the stairs, struggling to stand on unsteady legs and for a brief moment he had to hold on to handrail before he approached Randy almost carefully as if the moment could shatter if he walked too fast. This sudden twist seemed so very unreal that he couldn't believe this was really happening.

"John?" Randy asked haltingly, turning his head left and right to hear because he heard John's uneven breathing, his faltering steps but he couldn't make out if he was coming towards him… or if he left.

And then suddenly John was there, kneeling in front of him. Strong arms wrapped around him, pulling him tightly against his chest and the trembling subsided in John's embrace. Just… like that. His arms came up, circling John's waist and suddenly his whole body was inflamed by a longing so intensive that his heart stopped beating for long second. He buried his face against a broad shoulder, clung to the man in his arms as a flood of everything he'd caged in the depths of his heart rolled through him.

"Johnny…"

Turning his face against the short hair John whispered: "It's okay, I'm here… I've got you…"

Repeating the words over and over again while his confused mind tried to comprehend… this. This very moment. He was holding Randy. No hard words, no being pushed away. And his hold on Randy tightened while one hand brushed up, cradling the head that was buried against his shoulder lovingly.

When John eventually leaned back a bit, settling a tender hand on Randy's damp cheek, he had no idea how much time had passed but it was almost dark outside. Randy's arms stayed locked around his waist, still holding him close and the way he leaned into his touch…

Could it be…?

John hoped it. He hoped so much that this had been the moment, yet he feared that tomorrow it would like the past days. That the Randy would push him away again. Thinking of his lately all too sudden mood changes it was possible, wasn't it?

It's gonna be alright, he told himself as his eyes roamed his friend's face. We're gonna be alright.

It had to be, because this now had been so entirely different from the moments Randy had let him come loser… yesterday or this morning. He felt Randy tug him closer again and he leaned in, resting his forehead against his friend's. His hand smoothed down to Randy's nape, fingers playing lightly with the short but soft hair there and he received a shuddering sigh in response. Maybe it would take time until they were back at being an item and it would be awkward sometimes, painful, that there would be tough times. But yeah, it would be alright… eventually…

Twisting his fingers into John's shirt Randy tried to anchor himself somehow as the current of his feelings pulled him down. He didn't have the breath and the strength to fight his way out. He had lost it long ago… And so he let go, hoping that it was the right decision. Goosebumps flared all over his body under John's soft caress, that touch he'd missed so very much that it made his heart cry out under the ache which grew in his chest.

His mind narrowed on the feeling of holding John so close… finally… on the strong heartbeat under his touch, on the well-known scent and the tickling of John's breath against his still damp cheeks. This moment now, it was the oddest way of perfection. Somehow. And although he still had a whole life to live… it wouldn't be enough to make up for all John had gone through.

God, how he wished he could see him…

"I guess it's been enough for one day," John murmured then as he pulled back again and after a brief moment of hesitation he breathed a kiss to Randy's forehead, the fondness it carried making warmth bloom in his chest. "Let's go to bed, Ran."

"I'm so sorry, John, I…" Randy replied whispering and as he felt John pull back again he tried to hold on to him.

Randy was clinging to him and that drew a small smile from John as his hands wandered down the younger man's arms.

"Ssh, don't, Babe. It's alright," the older man hushed him as he gently freed himself from the desperate hold.

And then Randy felt him slip out of his arms and his fingers closing around… nothing. He heard as John closed the front door, as he stepped up beside him and only a second later he was being lifted out of the wheelchair. His arms found their way around John's neck in a blink, resuming their place and he pulled himself close enough against the broad frame to bury his face against his neck as he was carried up to his room.

Happy relief was what Randy felt because he could do it again, be this close to his friend without having to fight with himself and it was what John felt, because Randy had opened up to him again. It banished all the bad feelings and the thick silence, the awkwardness which had lingered around them.

Placing the younger man gently on the bed, he made sure Randy was lying comfortably and fussed about the blanket until he had tucked him in warm and safe, before he sat on the edge of the bed and smoothed a hand over the blanketed chest, stopping right above his heart. His gaze wandered over Randy's face, taking in the slightly reddened and puffy eyes, the slightly parted and even softly quivering lips and he noticed that the tenseness which had carved lines into those handsome features was gone. And with it most of the lines. Some of them would stay as a memory of what had been, just like the scars. And his hand moved on its own accord, moving from its spot over Randy's heart up to his cheek and hesitantly John leaned in, kissing the scar on Randy's forehead, his heart jumping in joy as he felt his friend turn into that small kiss.

There was a warm tingling spreading through Randy's chest as he felt the fond touch on his cheek and those soft lips touching his forehead and it ended much too soon. He knew John would go now in an attempt to keep his promise not to push him, to give him room and time to think. It wasn't what Randy wanted though. No. He wanted him to act for once instead of thinking too much, to crawl into bed with him and hold him. Somehow spending the night without John beside him wasn't an option. And while he was silently wishing it, he felt his friend get up from his place.

"Try to sleep, Babe. Okay? I'm leaving the doors open, so just call if…" John said softly, letting his hand brush over a tattooed arm as he straightened up but just as his hand reached Randy's, the long fingers closed around his in an almost painfully tight grip, stopping him mid-sentence.

"Don't go, John..." Randy whispered, the grey eyes drifting close as he found the strength to voice what he wished for. "I don't want to be without you tonight. So… stay. Please?"

Slowly John sat back down, blinking once. This… he had waited, wished to hear these words… and now he almost couldn't believe that Randy really had said it. And strangely enough he was even a bit anxious to… stay. But he wanted it and Randy wanted it and John laughed softly about himself for being anxious for no apparent reason. The hold on his hand tightened even more, making the laughter die in his throat as he saw the confusion on the younger man's face.

"John…?"

"I'm sorry, Ran… I'm just laughing about myself, you know? All the time I've prayed to hear you say that and now I'm sitting here and can't believe that you did say it… and the really silly thing about it is that I'm… I'm afraid. Huh."

Brows furrowed over closed eyes in sadness.

"It's my fault," Randy whispered thickly, his words coated with bitter guilt. "I'm so sorry."

"Yeah, you're right, it's your fault," the older man agreed quietly, making Randy wince with it. "But that's a thing of the past and I don't want to think about the past right now."

With a light tug John tried to free his hand but instead of letting go Randy kept his fingers closed around John's.

"You need to let go if you want me to get into your bed, you know?"

Our bed… this is our bed… Randy thought and reluctantly he released the older man's hand, listening to the soft rustling of clothes being taken off and dropped to the floor.

John stripped to his boxers and climbed into the bed, getting over to the other side and with a silent sigh he switched the lights off and slipped under the blanket, fussing and tugging until they both were tucked in comfortably. Then he settled back, his head sinking into the soft pillow and his whole body settled down on to the comfortable mattress and the warm blanket and the soft pillow were doing a perfect job, making him feel framed in snugness.

His hand moved practically on its own accord, inching closer to the man beside him and… Randy met him half-way. A shy touch of fingers at first, familiar yet new, tingling and because John didn't dare to take Randy's hand, still too anxious to destroy something so fragile like the step they'd just made, Randy slipped his fingers between John's, closing around them in a firm hold. A hold that brought alleviation. For the first time since what felt like an eternity the darkness was soothing to both of them and for a while they lingered in the comfort it offered.

John had lost track of time and he was about to doze off, lulled by this little piece of contentment, when a thing came to his mind and with a certain hesitation he said: "Promise you'll still be here when I wake up."

Randy was about to reply that he meant it when he said that he'd never wanted to go… when he understood what John meant and it bestowed him a pang of pure sadness. He had to swallow hard against the lump in his throat and it took him a few tries before he got his voice to obey.

"I'm gonna be here, John. Promise."

With a soft sigh John inched closer to him until their shoulders and arms touched lightly and the warmth emanating from him seeped right into the younger man's body, making him shudder a tiny bit.

"Good. Because I missed you, Ran. So very much."

I missed you. My Randy. The man who told me he couldn't wait to start our life. Don't take that Randy away from me again. It was the message behind those words and Randy heard that message.

Squeezing John's hand a gently he whispered: "Missed you, too..."

With a happy little smile dancing on his lips John turned his head towards his friend, letting his gaze roam the barely visible features and almost as if Randy knew that he did, the younger man turned his face towards John. The room fell quiet and it didn't take long until a peaceful sleep caught up with them…

x

It had been a night full of restful sleep when the phone woke them around 9 a.m. and the first thing they both became aware of was familiar closeness. Their hands were still joined and at some point during the night John had turned onto his side, chest pressing against Randy's shoulder and his free arm was wrapped around the younger man's waist. There was warmth and the ever calming sound of soft breathing, breath that flowed over skin…

It was good… perfect, almost.

But then John realized what he was doing and was about to move away as Randy's free hand closed around his wrist, holding his arm right where it was.

"Stay," he whispered sleepily and John relaxed against him.

John's eyes roamed his friend's face and found a small smile there, as sleepy as his voice.

"You're still here," he replied, undisguised relief tingeing his voice.

The hold on his wrist loosened as Randy's hand trailed up and down John's arm in a soft caress and he turned his face a bit towards him. It felt good to feel John. His John…

"Yeah," he said quietly. "And I'm not gonna leave again."

Hum dropped from John's lips. He still couldn't believe that those days of hell were over now… finally… and that this was real. And because Randy was okay with him being plastered along his side John tightened his hold on the slim waist.

They fell silent again and only the insistently ringing of the phone disturbed the peaceful moment and with a grumbled curse John wrenched himself away from Randy, his arm and hand slipping out of reluctant fingers. Just as he had thrown some clothes on the phone stopped ringing and he cursed again because he could still be lying in bed with the man he loved in his arms, if whoever had been calling just would have decided sooner to stop bothering people. But now that he was up he would go down and see who had been calling and maybe he could go for a run again. Sitting back on to the bed he took Randy's hand, breathing a kiss to the palm.

"I'm gonna go down and see who it was and I think I'll go for a run," he said softly, his thumb brushing over the back of the younger man's hand. "You wanna sleep a little longer?"

"Yeah," Randy yawned and pulled the blanket up to his nose.

Leaning in John placed a kiss on his cheek and murmured a sleep against the skin under his lips, his heart jumping in joy because he was allowed again to just do this. With a happy grin on his face he headed down, thinking that the day had started out… good.

Randy was drifting off again as he listened to John's muted voice coming from downstairs. He still felt John's lips on his cheek. And he prayed that giving in to John and his own longing hadn't been a mistake. But… something that felt so good couldn't be a mistake, could it? Faintly he heard the front door being opened and closed again.

"Love you, Johnny…" he breathed and snuggled deeper into the softness which was surrounding him, slipping back into the land of dreams.

x

The first thing John did after coming home from his run was hitting the shower since the call this morning had been from the building firm, giving notice that a team would drop in around 11 a.m. to make the planning. And because he was late he skipped his breakfast and managed to be ready just in time. Randy was still sound asleep and John didn't want to wake him until those guys would be gone again.

While a team of four men ran around the first floor and the yard, John was commuting between the first floor and Randy's room, making sure the younger man was okay. Once again the run had worked freeing on him and he felt a sparkling joy swell in his chest, caused by the progress of the planning and… seeing Randy sleeping peacefully, knowing he could just walk in there and touch his friend, even give him innocent little kisses or crawl under the blanket and hold him. And when one of the guys asked him to stay downstairs to settle the last details, he left the door to Randy's room a crack open and although he got lost in planning the details of their new and improved home, his mind listened the whole time for the tiniest sound coming from upstairs…

When Randy emerged from a calm sleep up again there was an odd feeling of an absence and his hand roamed the space beside him, finding it empty. And then he remembered that John had been out for a run. With a pout he grabbed John's pillow and hugged it to his chest, sighing pleased as the older man's scent filled his nostrils. It was now that he realized how much he'd really missed being close to John. A stinging pain caused by what he had missed the past days mingled with the sweet ache of having all of it back.

His ears caught dimmed sounds from downstairs. John's voice. He didn't know the other voices and he guessed those men were from the building firm John had mentioned. Randy smiled happily as he thought about the new rooms downstairs. A new bathroom, two new bedrooms… or maybe even only one new bedroom… eventually. And he was sure there would be a waterbed and a Jacuzzi…

God… the prospect of falling asleep and waking up beside John, or even in his arms… he wanted it, every fiber in his body yearned for it. Maybe leaving John would have been the right thing to do but… the right thing wasn't always the good thing, was it? But this… this was good. He buried his face into the pillow he hugged to his chest and inhaled deeply, exhaling the older man's name wrapped in a content sigh.

An idea came to his mind while he breathed John's scent and heard his voice floating up to him. John did everything to make things easier for him, make him happy. So… he could surprise John and try to manage his morning routine on his own. Getting a grip on his life was something he owed his friend anyway. With a last John-scented breath he put the pillow aside and inched closer to the edge of the bed where he sat up and positioned the wheelchair.

The moment he lowered himself into the chair the headache that kept him company since the day before increased and with a low groan he pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes, waiting for the pain subside. The fact that the headache wouldn't fade would have unsettled him if it wasn't another kind of a headache as the one the rumors had brought along. It wasn't making it less painful though.

As the pain lessened a bit again he made his way to the bathroom, slow but confident because he knew the way. He knew it and he could make it and show John that his effort of pulling him out of the hole of self-pity he was hiding in wasn't in vain. On his way to the bathroom he let his fingers brush over the wall, finding the light switches which told him how close he was to the small table, how close he was to the bathroom as he focused on the metal image he'd painted as John and he had made the ways through the house again and again. And as he finally reached the door he stopped for a brief moment, listening to John, letting the full and warm voice wash over him, before he got into the room.

After a little bit of searching he found his toothbrush and although the sink and the cabinet closet underneath weren't made for people in wheelchairs, he managed to rinse his mouth and give himself a catlick without flooding the whole room. Again he began to feel around, searching for the electric razor, remembering that it had to be somewhere on a shelf and so he pushed himself a bit up, out of the wheelchair and hissed as the pain became stronger again. He muttered a curse as braced on the rim of the sink, stretching up even more, determined to find the fucking razor.

The sudden flash of glaring light in his world of darkness impacted on him like a blow, bringing a pain along as glaring as that light. His hand slipped off the sink as he doubled over with a breathless moan, losing his balance and he fell. For painful seconds he kept lying on the floor, moaning, his breathing fast and shallow… and then he pushed himself up, tried to get back into the wheelchair but he failed…

Randy groaned, cradling his head in his hands as the flashes kept coming, every flash aggravating the pain in his head and he wanted to get up, get up and find John, but he couldn't… as weak hands didn't find a hold on the sink, as trembling arms failed to pull him up… as dead legs refused to obey and blind eyes kept him prisoner in darkness and much too bright light…

John…

John was lost in his thoughts, his mind still busy with the upcoming home remodelling as he closed the door behind the men. It was a loud sound coming from upstairs that caught his attention and made him snap out of his thoughts.

"Randy?" he called while making his way up the stairs, but there was no answer... except…

There was a dull thudding. And… stifled crying. Taking two steps at once John made his way up and followed the sounds which came from the bathroom.

"Randy?" he called again, heavy worry lacing into his voice. "Ran…!"

He froze in his tracks, the word dying in his throat as he pushed the door open. Randy was sitting on the floor, weeping… hitting his legs over and over again with his clenched fists while desperate little sounds were dropping from his lips, accompanied by harsh and fast breathing. Things were lying scattered around the floor and the wheelchair was lying on its side about three meters away from him, almost as if he had pushed it away with all his might. There were stains on the floor, red and smeared and it was then that he realized that Randy's knuckles were bloody, as if he had hit the floor, too, and there was also blood on his legs…

John called his name again, a mere croak as his voice failed him but there was no reaction. Randy was so caught up in his misery that he didn't seem to notice John being there as he kept on hitting his legs. Bruises were already forming on them under the thin film of drying blood and finally John was able to move again and he made the short distance between them with a few quick strides.

"Randy!" he called, his voice rising now as he tried to get through to the younger man as he dropped to his knees beside him.

In an attempt to stop Randy and shake him out of whatever held him prisoner, he reached out to get a hold on his friend's wrist. He never saw it coming. At the first touch Randy lashed out with a surprised and shocked cry, his hand colliding with John's face… sending him backwards. Too surprised to catch himself John fell on to his back, hitting his head hard on the tiles… and the world around him went black…