*sighs* stubborn boys are stubborn. And Randy… obviously can't stop being irrational.
Ô_Ó
Now, it's been quite a way we walked together and yeah, there will some more chaps (I know, I'm repeating myself but as a matter of fact I have no real idea how many of them are still to come ;-) and I want to thank my faithful readers for coming back!
Have fun :D
Randy heard it. A sickening thud that made his heart stop beating and for an excruciating moment long there was nothing. Not the tiniest sound of a movement… not even the sound of breathing. The very moment he'd realized what he was doing it had already been too late and although his fingers tried to get a hold on John's shirt, he'd felt the fabric slip out of his grasp. Too late…
"John?" he choked out, feeling around, feeling nothing but the cool tiles.
He wanted to crawl forward, find John, but his goddamn legs glued him to the spot and no matter how much he willed his eyes to see, there was nothing but blackness and blinding flashes. Panic was bubbling in his chest, threating to spill over and consume him. And then... there was a small moan.
"John? Johnny…?"
It was his name being called, the hesitant and scared, tearstained voice that urged John back to consciousness and then he remembered what just had happened. John's eyes flew open and he sat up with a gasp… a little too quickly and the gasp became a low groan as his head exploded in blunt and pounding agony and with the influx of pain came sickness. Trying to breathe through it he screwed his eyes shut. Faintly he heard Randy call his name, again and again, pure worry lacing into his voice and John wanted to say something, calm him down but all he managed was another groan. The sickness subsided only slowly, giving way to a new kind of pain, a biting, sharp one that set the left side of his face in flames and when he reached up and touched his cheek, he felt a warm wetness there. John opened his eyes, blinking against the brightness of the room which made the pounding in his head only worse and found his fingertips red with his own blood. And again a pained groan slipped past his lips…
"Please say something… Johnny, please… "
Randy's voice had become a mere whisper, so very small and far beyond being scared. John's gaze drifted over to his friend, finding him still on the same spot, sitting there hunched with one arm wrapped around himself and his free hand searching blindly… The blind eyes wide open, puffy and reddened, the stubbled cheeks wet from tears and his unsteady breathing sounded much too choked.
"…'s okay, Ran… calm down…" John slurred as unsteady as Randy's breathing was as he reached out for a towel, pressing it onto his cheek while crawling over to him and he had to fight against the urge to retch as the sickness came back.
A sudden wave of dizziness rolled through him and he had to stop moving for a few seconds to prevent his arm from giving out under him. From the corner of his eyes he saw Randy reach out again, searching for him and John let go of the towel, meeting Randy's hand. The very moment their fingers touched he felt the younger man's fingers close around his in a painful and so desperate hold that he shoved sickness and dizziness aside, closing the remaining distance between them. Wrapping his arms around Randy's trembling frame he pulled him tightly against his chest and felt him sag against him, felt arms circle his neck in an equally tight hold.
"I didn't want that, I'm sorry…" Randy said, deepest guilt coating the words. "You okay?"
John was still feeling sick and dizzy, a little disorientated even and his head was threatening to burst. Signs of a concussion but he wouldn't tell Randy. No need to upset him even more. He reached for the towel, pressing it on the scratches on his cheek.
"I'm fine, I just hit my head, don't worry," he replied and did his best to keep his voice steady. "What happened, Babe?"
Randy didn't believe him. He felt John sway a bit and his voice… He winced as another flash of light and pain ripped through the darkness and he moaned quietly. John whispered his name, worried, repeating his question.
"I tried to find the electric razor and I… suddenly there were flashes of light and my head hurt," Randy whispered, knowing that it would worry John even more. "I fell and… I couldn't get up and I couldn't see and I… I wanted to call you but… John, I didn't want to hurt you…"
Putting the towel aside John smoothed a hand over Randy's hair. He understood. Randy had felt trapped in his own body, not able to do anything. And the headache and the light flashes…
"I know," he whispered back, scared of what those flashes and the headache could mean. "The headache and the flashes still there?" A nod against his shoulder. "Okay. I'm gonna call Dr. Green and maybe we have to go to the hospital."
The arms around John's neck tightened their hold. Randy didn't want to go back there. This headache was different from the one he had all those months but he was terrified that the doctors would… would find a tumor again. What if they found a metastasis?
"I don't want to go to the hospital."
"I know, Randy, I know. But this isn't a question of wanting or not," John said and a shaky sigh was the answer. "Come on, let's get you back to your room."
John had the same thoughts. What if they found another tumor? Yet he hoped that it was something less severe. It had to be. They deserved some peace after all they had gone through. Randy had suffered more than enough.
He stood up to get the wheelchair, holding on to the sink as he swayed dangerously. A few seconds later he felt safe to let go of it. The strain of helping Randy get into the wheelchair almost made him throw up and he bit back a moan. John tried his best to hide that he wasn't feeling okay but Randy noticed it nevertheless. He knew John by now. The way the older man's breath caught and he moved very slowly, carefully and he seemed to be… weak. John was never weak.
Not much later Randy was back in his bed and John thought that he should just lay down with him but he knew better. Instead he only sat on the edge of the bed, covering the younger man and closing his eyes he gave himself a minute to slow down the spinning world around him. Resting his hand on Randy's chest he felt a much too fast heartbeat, a much too fast rising and falling of the chest beneath his touch.
It's okay, calm down, calm down. It's okay, Babe…
If he said those words aloud or if he only was saying them in his mind… he wasn't sure but he felt a hand grabble for his, threading their fingers together. He took a collecting breath and opened his eyes again. Randy had his face turned towards him, the blind eyes searching.
"I need to call Dr. Green," he said, charily pulling his hand from reluctant fingers. "I'll be right back, okay?"
Randy shook his head no, rasping: "No, nothing's okay, don't go. Please."
"You know I have to, Ran," John breathed as he wrenched himself away from his side.
Randy's tears had stopped falling in the meantime but now John watched the grey eyes watering up again and a single tear fell. But John caught it with tender fingers, wiping it away.
"Don't," he hushed the younger man. "Don't. There's no need to anymore." And then, without the slightest idea how often he'd already said it before, he said it again and he would repeat it as often as he needed to: "It's gonna be alright. Come on, Babe, I want you to say it…"
Brief hesitation. A deep breath.
"It's… it's gonna be… alright…"
Breathing a kiss to Randy's forehead John whispered a good and left him with a heavy heart to go and call Dr. Green. To John's relief the doctor answered the call and he began to explain what had happened and when he ended his report there was a short pause as he waited for Dr. Green to say something. When the medic spoke he sounded thoughtfully.
"So, he says it doesn't feel like the headache before and that he sees flashes," Dr. Green said and John muttered a yeah. "And he has no neurological deficits?"
"No," John acknowledged, leaning back against the backrest as he wiped a hand down his face.
His head was spinning and his body demanded some rest, but he couldn't sleep now. He had to be there when Randy needed him.
"Well, I suggest you give him some painkillers and then he should try to sleep. I know it worries you, but from what you told me it's nothing alarming," the doctor explained.
John sighed and asked quietly: "Are you sure?"
A confident yeah was the answer and John sighed again, heavy with relief.
"But what's causing it? I mean, there has to be a reason for his headache and the light he sees," he added then, noticing how his voice was becoming unsteady again.
"The symptoms are not unusual," Dr. Green replied then. "Some patients even report that they suddenly can differentiate between light and dark and even see shapes, but in most cases it's just some kind of a memory. The brain remembers things, creates pictures out of it and the person concerned believes to be able to see again."
It wasn't that John had hoped or even thought that those symptoms could mean that Randy's sight returned, but now that the doctor mentioned it and also said that it most likely didn't have to mean anything at all… those words struck him.
But almost as if the man heard his thoughts he added: "Randy is still in the state of healing. Even minimally invasive surgeries leave damage and the nerves and brain tissue is still recovering from it. I already told you that I'm quite confident that Randy will regain his sight and this kind of flashed he sees can actually be a good sign. I just don't want you to put too much hope into it right now. I know waiting for signs of progress can be very straining but hoping too much and being disappointed will make you feel like you've just taken ten steps back."
The voice coming through the line was soft as he explained yet even a bit warningly and John muttered a yeah. It was hard not to hope too much, now that Dr. Green brought the focus on the idea that those flashes could also be a good sign.
"Is he still taking the cortisone and the vitamin B complex I prescribed him?"
Sighing silently John hung his head and regretted it immediately as his headache threatened to burst his head. The meds… Randy had taken them yesterday. But today? Most probably not. He knew Randy didn't want to take them, but they were important against swelling, inflammation and as important, those meds helped the regeneration of the nerves.
"Yeah, he does," he replied then and his voice mirrored that he wasn't feeling all too good right now.
There was a moment of pondering silence before the medic spoke again.
"John? You okay? You're sounding as if you're not feeling well?"
John puffed a tired little laughter.
"I, uhm… I had a tiny accident today. I fell and hit my head a little."
Another moment of silence.
Then: "Dizziness, sickness, tiredness, a headache? Any of those symptoms?"
"All of them and I know, it's a concussion. It isn't the first and it won't be the last. I'll live through it."
This time it wasn't silence but a displeased huff John got in response.
"You're taking this a bit too lightly. However, I want you to come to the hospital if it's getting worse and I mean both of you," he said then insistently. "When did you hit you head?"
"About half an hour ago," John murmured, noticing that speaking was somehow becoming harder and that he knew that the doc heard it, too, and it was pretty much clear what was about to come.
"Okay then, give Randy the painkillers and he should try to sleep," Dr. Green instructed. "And you take some painkillers and make sure you stay awake for at least the next two hours. No bodily straining activities for the next five days. And I want to see you both at the hospital tomorrow at 1 p.m. for a check-up."
"Yeah, 's okay, Doc."
The call ended, leaving John indecisive what to tell Randy. Tell him that those flashed could be a sign that his sight might come back? Tell him not? Well, it was probably better not to say anything because Randy was confused and scared enough at the moment, no need to add a maybe false hope.
Slowly making his way back up he went to the bathroom, getting the meds and a wet washcloth and then to the younger man's room, thinking that he had to find a way to stay awake, because he felt like falling asleep any second. He found Randy awake and his whole posture much too tense and the moment he walked in, he sat bolt upright, eyes wide.
John being away so long had added to the nagging fear and guilt which were smothering him and only the fact that he'd heard John's dimmed voice had kept him from freaking again. The older man's steps were slow and shuffling, almost as if walking was difficult. His breathing was still unsteady and then the suddenly dipped and he heard John sigh. A weary sigh…
"Hey, Babe. How are you feeling?" John asked although he clearly saw that Randy wasn't feeling good and he sent a silent prayer to whatever higher entity there was… that they would finally be allowed to find peace and live the life they wanted.
"Not good…" Randy whispered guiltily. "I'm worried about you, Johnny. You don't sound okay… I'm so sorry…"
Smoothing a tender hand over Randy's cheek he smiled as his friend leaned into the touch, placing his own hand over it to keep it there.
"I just need some rest, don't worry. As do you. Doc's orders. He said you should take painkillers and sleep," John said, leaning in to breathe a small kiss close to the corner of Randy's mouth. "Did you take you meds this morning?"
Shaking his head no Randy let go of John's hand and the older man used the chance, beginning to clean Randy's hands from the dried blood, very carefully. A caress almost. When he was finished he continued his task at the thighs and he winced as he saw the bruises there.
"Don't hurt yourself again, Babe. Please," he said strained as he put the washcloth aside.
Randy felt John place some pills in one of his hands and the bottle of water from the bedstand in the other and being a good boy he swallowed them. The bottle was being taken from his hand again and a broad hand settled on his chest, pushing him gently back and his own hand came up, fisting in the front of the older man's shirt to pull him in.
That kiss John had given him, that tiny symbol of fondness had sent a tingle down his spine. It was almost like they were repeating every step, back from the moment he had John step into his life. The hard words he'd hauled at John, the back and forth, first touches and growing closeness… little kisses. Only in fast motion… Was it too fast? Did it matter if? He wanted John close. He wanted to kiss him. He'd wanted it all the time and denying himself and John this had only made it… worse. Just as he tugged John even closer to make him crawl into bed with him the doorbell rang.
"Don't go," he whispered, tightening his hold on the tee. "Please, don't go."
"I have to," John sighed as the doorbell kept on ringing insistently. "And I know you just woke up, but at least try to rest. Okay? I'll leave the door open."
Gently but insistently John peeled the younger man's hand off his shirt, kissing the palm before pulling the blanket up to Randy's shoulders. When he reached the door he turned around, his gaze sweeping over the lying form.
"It's gonna be alright, Ran," he said softly and it was still there, that tiny hope that those flashes were a good thing. "I love you."
"And I love you, Johnny…"
He listened to John's steps as he made his way down the stairs, reminding himself that John wasn't leaving…
Downstairs John halted for a moment when he reached the door and he leaning heavily against the wall beside the door he tried to come up with something to get rid of whoever was standing behind that door as soon as possible. He dismissed the idea the second he opened the door and saw who was standing there. It was Phil, the ever worried expression on his face and if possible the worry grew the very moment his eyes fell on John.
"What happened?" Phil breathed dismayed when his gaze fell on the nasty gash on John's cheek… and the black eye which was forming just above the cheekbone.
John shrugged his shoulders and padded to the living room with Phil following him. Somehow he was glad that Phil had shown up unannounced. Maybe it wasn't a bad thing that someone else was around, just in case. In fact… it felt like a mountain had just dropped from his shoulders.
Stepping up to him Phil's eyes roamed his face. He was pale as a ghost and his eyes seemed somewhat hollow, tired, with dark circles around them and he seemed too tired to even hold himself on his feet, but somehow he managed to stay upright. But he swayed alarmingly. And then there were those three nasty scratches on his cheek… and there was trickling blood down his cheek.
"Randy had some kind of a breakdown. When I found him he was hitting his legs and when I tried to calm him he caught me and I fell and hit my head," he explained monotone, slurring a bit, the swaying even more visible in his steps as he walked over to the couch, sitting down carefully. "It wasn't on purpose… he wasn't himself that moment…"
Phil walked over to John and kneeled down in front of him, retrieving a hanky from his pocket and very gently he dabbed the blood away, before wrapping his arms around him in a firm hold. Slowly John mirrored the embrace and leaned heavily against his friend, sagging a bit and Phil tightened his hold on him.
Furrowing his brows Phil noticed: "You lost weight."
"I know," John sighed against his shoulder, sounding utterly exhausted. "Phil, I'm so tired."
The words, the way John looked and sounded… it made Phil's heart clench painfully and he lifted a hand to the older man's nape, smoothing over the short hair. Goosebumps flared all over John's body and he wished so much this would be Randy touching him.
"Oh Sunshine, why didn't you call me?" the younger man murmured and out of habit he breathed a kiss onto the broad shoulder. "You know I would have come.
"I didn't want to burden you, Phil. You've already done so much for me and…"
"Don't be silly, you're not a burden," Phil hushed him as he lifted his hand to cradle the older man's head, frowning as he felt the bump there. It went with the slurring, the swaying and the exhaustion, it all indicating a concussion and he murmured: "Shall I take you to a doc? Pretty much seems like you got yourself a concussion with your trip to the floor."
"Yeah, I know, I know. I already talked to Dr. Green and Randy and I have an appointment tomorrow…"
John trailed off and for a minute quietness reigned as he enjoyed not having to be the strong one for a while. With Phil it was always easy because he could let go, could be… weak. Oh, he had often enough been weak when Randy was around. Because of him. Yet he had also been the strong one, so damn often. He hoped that the time would come that he could show the kind of weakness he allowed himself while being with Phil… that he could show it while being with Randy.
Phil shifted his hold on him, leaning back a bit and carefully he framed the older man's face with his hands. Those blue eyes weren't sparkling but dull and they weren't supposed to be like this.
"Why does he always leave you devastated? Why do I always have to find you shattered to pieces? Sunshine… I know you love him and he said that he loves you, but… this, he is not good for you. You put everything you have into that weird and sick relationship and all you get in return is pain and even more pain and tears."
"That's not true, Phil, he…"
"Yeah, sure," Phil cut him off. "And that's why you're all happy smiling dimples every time I see you, because he makes you that happy. I can't even remember the last time I've seen you smile, and I mean really smile, with sparkling eyes and those beautiful dimples of yours and all. But I do remember those three times I saw you break down, when I was the one who caught and held you. Did he do that for you? No. No, he did that to you. And that's the difference. Stop fooling yourself. I know I was the one who told you to hang in there, but maybe I was wrong. I really don't doubt that he loves you, still he's not the right one for you. It's more than obvious that he can't make you happy and maybe you should listen to what he said and walk away from him."
"I'm not fooling myself, Phil. It just needs some time. He needs time and I'm willed to give him as much time as it takes. And you're wrong, he makes me happy," John murmured. "I made it, Phil. I got through to him again. I know it's gonna be alright. I know it."
"Oh? Really? You got through to him, with holding him and kissing him and stuff? The happily ever after finally?" Phil asked and he couldn't help the sarcasm coating his words because no, this didn't look like a happily ever after.
Instead of giving an answer to this John buried his face in the crook of Phil's neck and exhaled a shuddering breath into the familiar cavern and he was tempted to just let go and fall, right into those arms he knew, arms which had held him safe so often and sleep. But he had to stay awake…
"Yeah, and I see how oh so very-very happy you are…" Phil sighed, rather worried than anything else and his voice was infinitely tender as he spoke again. "I know you're not gonna give him up and god knows I hope for you that the day will come when the two of you can finally be happy together. Really happy. And I'm not gonna put any hope into it, but if you ever decide to live your life without him… I'll be there, Sunshine."
The words tugged at his heart, creating a nameless craving deep inside him, a sweet ache and alleviation. Phil's words and voice, his touch, his mere presence… he wondered if Phil had the slightest idea how precious he was and once again John thought that if he hadn't lost his heart to Randy… he would doubtlessly lost it to Phil. Nuzzling his face against Phil's neck was John's only reply to this but it was enough. Phil knew. But only a moment later the younger man pushed him back cautiously, just enough to seek his eyes again, before he leaned in and breathed a chaste kiss to John's lips, almost as if he wanted to seal his promise.
"Listen, I'm gonna go upstairs, get you some pain meds and something to clean the scratches," Phil murmured as he reached back for the remote, switching the TV on. "And in the meantime I want you to sit here, watch TV and stay awake, okay? I want you to rest a bit and I'm gonna stay and have an eye on your Baby."
John wasn't going to argue with the younger man on this point and he tried himself on a small smile as Phil got up, pressing the remote into his hand. And while he heard Phil leave the room and go upstairs, he willed himself not to get too comfortable and hence fall asleep in the end…
A soft sound of cautious steps stirred Randy out of his doze and after a second of trying to blink the darkness away he remembered that it was a useless attempt. With a sigh he turned his head in the general direction of the door.
"John?"
Phil pushed away from the doorframe and walked up to the bed.
"No, John is in the living room and rests a bit."
He'd heard that the visitor was Phil but he hadn't expected Phil to come up here and after a moment of surprise, Randy uttered: "Punk. What are you still doing here?"
Phil sat down on the bed and searched Randy's face. The younger man had obviously lost weight, too and his face looked drawn. And although he'd heard about that the eyes of blind people were incessantly moving, it was creepy to see it. It seemed like Randy was looking for something he couldn't find. Well, in the broadest sense he did look for something… And somehow something else seemed to bother him…
"John has a concussion and he really needs to give himself a rest."
Although he'd suspected that John wasn't okay… he wouldn't have assumed a concussion. He should have though. He'd heard the thud and John had been out for a moment.
Randy shook his head no in disbelief, more to himself than to Phil, whispering guiltily: "A concussion…?
"Yup and a nice black eye and three neat scratches over his cheek. Who are you, Freddy Krueger?"
"That's not funny, Punk," Randy snapped but it lacked intensity since he was much too exhausted and worried about John.
Shrugging his shoulders Phil replied sharply: "No, you're right, it's not. He has a black eye, nasty scratches and a concussion because of you and that's far from being funny, Randal." He saw Randy flinch and felt a certain amount of satisfaction as the blow hit home. "Anyway, I promised to have an eye on you, just in case you need anything. So?"
"I…" Randy began but he didn't dare say what was on his mind.
I want to be at John's side right now and apologize for what I did. I want to lie beside him and hold him, goddammit…
"No. I don't need anything. I'll be fine until John… feels better," he said instead very quietly.
The only thing he needed was John. He needed him here, right now, because he wanted to apologize over and over again, wanted to soothe the damage he'd caused. And goddamn, he should say it to John every damn day how much he needed him.
Pursing his lips Phil nodded, though the other man couldn't see it and got up, musing on how much those two were fixated on one another. Squeezing between the two of them was probably the most impossible thing in the world and he should simply stop trying it.
"Okay, so… I'm gonna leave the door open. I'm downstairs, just call if you need anything."
Letting his gaze roam Randy's face again he just couldn't get rid of the feeling that there was something else… something different bothering him. Something Randy wanted to say. To him, not to John. But he knew it would be lost time to ask him about it. The air between them had always been heavy with animosity and this very moment it wasn't much different.
Shrugging his shoulders, Phil turned to leave the room but he hadn't even reached the door when Randy called his name. Surprised he halted, glanced suspiciously back for a brief moment, before returning to the bed.
"Yeah?" he asked carefully.
The blind eyes were closed and Randy's expression was strained. His lips were pressed together in a thin line. Pure tenseness because he didn't like the mere idea of the two of them being alone down there. He trusted John, but he didn't trust Phil.
I should be at John's side, he thought bitterly, once more hating his useless legs and eyes which kept him from being there for John the way he deserved.
Even if Phil had promised John to have an eye on him, Phil had also an eye on John at the same time, so maybe he should be thankful that the other man was here, shouldn't he? And then he heard Phil make an impatient little noise that brought him back from his thoughts.
"You… you like John, don't you?" Randy asked then, quietly.
It wasn't that he didn't know it already. He'd seen it, that night when John had taken him home from Sam. Still he had to ask him. Phil cocked an eyebrow.
"Sure, I wouldn't be here if I didn't. We're friends. Remember?"
"I didn't mean that…"
Randy's voice was laced with something Phil couldn't quite put his finger on, something heavy, crushing.
"Okay? So, what exactly did you mean then?" he asked slowly.
"I know that you two are very close…"
It wasn't a question but a statement and although Phil knew Randy couldn't see it, he shot him a wary look.
Swallowing hard, Randy added: "John told me about… it."
"Yeah, I know, Randal. What are you getting at?"
Randy fought. With himself and the words he wanted to push past his lips. And for these moments the room was awfully quiet.
"You're in love with him," Randy said and again it was a statement, not a question and the words were more choked out than anything else.
And Phil saw no reason to hide it from Randy and so he just replied: "Yeah."
Having a thing for someone was one thing, but being in love… like Phil was being in love with John… was dangerous. Phil could give John everything he needed. Everything. And the ridiculous thing now was… all the time Randy had wanted John to go, to Phil even, and now he was afraid that it could really happen.
"Just… don't take him away from me," Randy whispered. "Please…"
The question Phil wanted to ask was: are you really afraid that could happen? He didn't need to speak it out. Randy was afraid. Very clearly so. He fisted the sheets and tried hard to keep his breathing even and slow, but it didn't work. The brows furrowed over the closed eyes, not in anger but in sorrow. It was a heart wrenching sight.
He didn't like Randy much, really, but despite all that had happened in the past and the lingering hostility between them he felt the urge to calm the other man. Even more so because this wasn't the Randy Orton he knew, this arrogant, biting, sometimes even threatening man Phil could so easily not like. And then something he'd never really expected could happen… happened. He felt honest compassion for him. Sitting back onto the bed with a silent sigh on his lips he reached out to lay a soothing hand on Randy's arm, but the other man jerked it away from the touch. A frown appeared on Phil's face.
"I know that you want him to leave me," Randy pressed out through gritted teeth. "All the time you wanted that…"
For a moment Phil stared at Randy tilting his head to the side, his eyes once again roamed Randy's face, trying to figure out on which emotions his worries based upon. He knew that Randy loved John, but the way he'd acted all the time was more than confusing… in fact it was absolutely irrational and weird and so many more things and he wasn't sure anymore what Randy was… thinking. If he was thinking at all. Feeling. Whatever. Randy loved John yet he'd told him to go, tried with everything he had to push him out of his orbit. And now this was the pure fear of losing the man he loved? Or what? Did he still want John to go or did he want him back? The be-the-love-of-my-life kind of back?
"Randy, as far as I know you wanted him to go… are you telling me now that you suddenly changed your mind?"
Phil's voice was hushed as he asked this question that made Randy's eyes snap open, gazing into nothing.
"He is… he is all I have," Randy whispered, his voice cracking. "And if you take him away from me, I… I…"
Phil's frown deepened. This answer could mean everything and nothing.
"Okay, Randy, let me put it this way: Do you want him to stay because you need someone or do you want him to stay because you need him?"
I need him. Goddammit, I need him. I love him, I want him, I… It was what Randy wanted to scream. He wanted to, but he didn't. Again he wasn't capable of opening his goddamn mouth and spill it.
And so all Phil got was silence. And the silence was answer enough for him. Randy's lips were quivering and Phil guessed that he fought with himself, wanting to give an answer. Phil knew that it wasn't easy for Randy to admit something like that in front of someone he didn't like, someone who he probably even hated. And so he waited a little longer, not to torture the other man, but to give him the chance to say it. And after moments, which felt like a little eternity, he did answer.
"I… I need John."
Phil nodded, not all too surprised by those words. It was time to lift some weight off Randy's poor heart.
"Listen, uhm... yeah, you're right, I love John and for a while we've been friends with benefits. That was until you told him that you love him. Believe me, he's not in love with me," Phil explained softly. "You're the only one he loves."
Randy kept silent and Phil sighed as he started to peel Randy's clenched fists away from the sheets and this time the younger man didn't avoid his touch.
"Randy, I need you to answer me the following question and it's very, very important, okay?"
Reluctantly Randy nodded.
"Do you really want him to be more again than just a friend?"
Silence fell again and Phil was almost sure that he wouldn't get an answer. But then…
"… yeah..."
The answer was so very quiet that Phil almost missed it. But then a genuine smile spread over his face when he realized what the Randy had just told him and ignoring the ache in his chest this answer brought with. He grabbed one of Randy's hands and squeezed it lightly.
"How can one single person be so irrational?" Phil muttered and shook his head lightly. "Okay, what I don't understand now is… why is John sitting downstairs, still waiting for you to give the go?"
Randy kept silent. Maybe he should have simply answered: it hadn't been the right moment to give the go. But Phil was right, John was the one who was tentatively testing the waters, but he wouldn't force Randy into anything. John was waiting for his permission for more.
"You know, I don't know if I could cope with the shit you're dishing out if I was John," Phil said gruffly as the other man refused to speak.
But then Randy did speak, his tone dry and distant: "Huh… if I was John I would have left me long ago…"
Sighing exasperated Phil shook his head. Pigheaded. Both. Very. And annoying. Again, very.
"Randy… John lost weight, he is utterly exhausted, bodily and mentally, but like the stubborn mule he is he won't give himself a break until he reaches the point where he's not gonna be able to pick himself up. Just because you are too stubborn. Believe me, that you want him back is exactly what he needs to hear. It's killing him, this whole thing, but he would never admit it to you, because he's scared that you send him away again. Okay? So… do the right thing and talk to him, tell him what you really feel. He saved you, now it's up to you to save him."
For a moment silence fell over the room as Phil watched various emotions cross Randy's face. And then Randy turned his face towards him and the blind eyes seemed to roam his face. But there was no other reaction and to make sure John would get his happy ending, Phil went for broke, knowing that the following words were a low-down threat. Yet they were as true.
"Okay Randal, I tried it the nice and caring way, but it obviously doesn't work," he said then and his voice took on a tart note. "John is the most precious being I've ever come to know and god knows I love him with all I am. This man is worth it to fight for him and he deserves to be loved, goddammit! John deserves to be happy. One week, Randal. I give you one week. Make him happy or I'll find a way to take him away from you and make sure he will be happy. I'm serious. Do something. Or I'll do something!"
With that he got up and left the room without waiting for a reaction, making his way down the stairs after getting the stuff from the bathroom. He didn't need to wait and see if he got through that ridiculous stubbornness. Or better idiocy. He was sure his words would have the wanted effect, namely to make Randy talk to John. Finally. On his face spread a happy yet sad smile. The chances were good that those two King's Children would finally find to one another. For good. He was happy for John, really. But it hurt. It goddamn hurt…
A/N spoiler-footer for you!
Despite what I had planned it took me and the boys a tad longer to get to the real happy-time. Now, after 24 chaps of dwelling between light and dark we'll see the sun again... Happiness is on its way ;D