Monday post and I'm still sick... Anyway, a short chapter for the beginning of the week.

The boys are making progress ;-)

Well, there's not much to say except wow! XD for plenty of reviews for the last part and that I hope you'll enjoy this one, too!

Hugs!

Resolute steps left the room, leaving a shaken Randy amidst of a too empty room behind. No… no, not empty. Crowded. It was… it was crowded by the words which had been said. Crushing words. His brows furrowed as he slowly pushed himself up into a sitting position, while his mind still tried to wrap around what Phil just had hurled at him. A threat. It had been a bloody threat.

One week. I'm serious. Do something. Or I'll do something!

If it had been someone else saying those words to him he probably wouldn't have given a shit about it but Phil had a real interest in John and if he really would try it… But no, no… John had told him that he loved him and he had promised to stay at his side. John wouldn't change his mind, right? He wouldn't do that.

Yet Phil wasn't the type of guy who backed down so easily…

"Punk," he whispered harshly, the small sound being swallowed by the thick quietness. "Punk," he repeated, the whisper becoming a hiss and then a growl as he said the name a third time.

With a muttered fuck Randy settled back again, feeling sour jealousy and seething possessiveness surge up. No way would this man get a piece of John again.

No. Fucking. Way.

Downstairs John sat unmoving, failing as he tried to blank his mind while staring at the TV. He blinked, once, twice, before he scrubbed his hands through his face, wincing and hissing as he opened the scratches on his cheek again with this unmindful move, bringing back the burning pain.

At least it'll keep me awake, he thought as his gazed at his again slightly blood-smeared fingertips.

Three times he had been close to drifting off now and only the sudden and jerky movement of his dipping head had prevented him from falling asleep and every single time his headache had exploded in a wave of agony for a few seconds. He would have gotten up to walk around a bit but that would most likely make things only worse.

The sound of steps caught John's attention and he gazed over to the door, watching as Phil made a beeline from the stairs to the kitchen, where he rummaged around for a moment. The sound of running water followed and then the younger man came back to him. He was holding a bowl, an icepack and a glass of water as he walked up and sat down close to John, handing the glass over to him, before he produced the pain meds and a band-aid from his pocket.

"Here, Sunshine, take some and then we'll get you fixed," Phil murmured as he handed the meds over to him, reaching out then for the bowl and the washcloth in it and the older man followed his order.

"You've been away for a while," John noticed as he set the glass aside. "Is Randy okay?"

Very-very cautiously Phil began to clean the scratches, apologizing with a crooked little smile for making the older man wince.

"He is as okay as he can be under the circumstances," Phil assured. "We only talked a bit, so don't worry."

But John did worry and how could he not? Being worried had become a habit in a way and although he believed Phil's words that Randy was okay, the thought of the two of them… talking… gave him somehow a strange feeling. Phil and Randy, talking like in only exchanging a few words? No.

Once the scratches were cleaned and the dried blood was wiped away Phil gently placed the band-aid over the wounds and done with his task he scrutinized his work with mild worry, prodding it gingerly. John was pale, if possible paler than he'd been before he went to see after Randy.

"You okay?" he asked softly, his fingers trailing over the sore cheek in a fond caress, reaching out for the icepack to hand it to him.

"Yeah, I'm fine," John replied absentmindedly while carefully pressing the icepack onto the shiner. "And thanks for staying."

"Sure thing," Phil assured and placed a gentle hand on John's good cheek.

Involuntary John leaned into the touch, closing his eyes with a weary sigh and he never saw the heavy sadness flashing up in those green eyes and while he again savored the comfort this touch provided, Phil did his best to ignore the first stabs of regret. Every single word he'd said to Randy was supposed to make him finally do something to make John happy. And he was already beginning to regret his attempt of being a saint a bit and a small and mean part of him hoped that Randy wouldn't get his shit together so that maybe, just maybe, if John fell again he could be there to catch him. For good.

With a rueful smile he brushed a thumb over the good cheek and pulled back then, only to crawl onto the couch behind John, nestling into the corner. John's eyes snapped open again as he was being pulled back against the younger man whose arms sneaked around his chest to hold him close.

"But Randy…" he began but Phil hushed him.

"Randy will be fine for a while. Okay? We're gonna stay awake together and later you can sleep a bit," he murmured right beside John's ear. "And now relax, I've got you, Sunshine."

After another hesitant moment he settled back against Phil and the arms holding him tightened a little and then a little more. Legs stretched out beside him, framing him and he allowed himself to let go, and while one hand held the ice on place, the other held on to the arms around his chest. It made him feel sheltered.

For about two hours they kept sitting like that, talking a bit every now and then, both gazing at the running TV. John's mind though was with Randy the whole time yet ease settled over him more and more with every minute and while in the beginning Phil had prevented him from falling asleep every time his eyes drooped, he now began to murmur calming, lulling words. It didn't take long until his body decided that it was time to take a break, giving in to a blissful nothing…

x

About three hours later John woke up again, gently carried towards consciousness by dimmed sounds and warmth which was engulfing him. He was faintly aware of a hand holding his own and for a while he floated between falling asleep again and waking up fully. Then the memory of what had happened returned and it ripped him out of the peaceful calmness but Phil was there, soothing him, easing his newly flaring worries by telling him that Randy was fine, that he was sleeping, that it was okay.

It was okay.

Things hadn't gotten better in those hours, yet they also hadn't become worse and it was enough for the moment.

Now John was standing at the front door, watching Phil get into his car and as he gazed back at him through the windshield there was briefly a thoughtful expression on the younger man's face before he pulled up a smile that wasn't quite convincing. John smiled back at him and when the car pulled out of the driveway, he watched a little longer until it had disappeared.

Phil's departure had been very quiet and somehow… strange. A oddly sharp, determined expression had been there in the younger man's eyes and the embrace… possessive in a way, yet his bye had been sounding soft and defeated. He'd looked… torn.

Shaking himself out of his thoughts John closed the door and headed up to Randy's room, needing to see that he was okay. For a moment his eyes roamed the motionless form in the bed before he sneaked over, kneeling beside the bed and cautiously he took one of the younger man's hand into his. Fingers curled around his in a light squeeze immediately.

"Hey, Babe," John murmured, returning the light squeeze. "Sorry if I woke you."

"You haven't," the younger man yawned. "Been awake for a while already."

A low, acknowledging hum.

"How do you feel, Ran? How's the head?"

Randy opened his eyes and turned his head in the direction of John's voice, managing a tiny smile and although he wanted to banish the guilt he knew that John would see it nevertheless. Sometimes it seemed that there was nothing he could hide from him. Maybe he would never again reach a point in his life when he wouldn't feel guilty anymore but right now he just wanted to be with John, without bad feelings, without sorrow, sadness.

"The painkillers are doing their magic, my head doesn't hurt that bad anymore. But the flashes are still there," Randy said, brushing his thumb over the back of John's hand. "How are you feeling? Punk said I caught you pretty nicely? And he said that you've got a concussion..."

Sighing John frowned, muttering: "I should have known that he would tell you… The shiner isn't all too bad, the scratches will be gone soon and it's a mild concussion. My head still hurts a bit and I feel a little dizzy but nothing serious, Ran. No need to worry, I'll be as good as new in a few days."

John watched as Randy's brows furrowed in sorrow as he whispered, not able to keep those bad feelings at bay despite his efforts: "I'm sorry, John. I'm so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you."

Although only a whisper, the younger man's voice was rich with guilt and sorrow and John's heart stumbled a bit, because somehow the way Randy sounded, the way he said those words made it clear that he didn't only mean what happened today. John understood and he also understood that his friend felt the urge to apologize again and again. He would feel the same.

"Don't be," he replied gently, willing a light tone into his voice as he ran a fond hand over a stubbled cheek and again his heart stumbled as his friend leaned into his touch.

Everything was going to be alright and he hoped Randy believed it, too. There was a glint in the depths of those misty grey eyes. Confidence? And for the third time within a minute his heart stumbled.

But because Randy was still much too pale for his taste he asked worried: "You feeling okay apart from the headache and the flashes?"

"I feel like a whole-body cramp but it'll pass," Randy mumbled, nestling his face deeper into the hand that still cupped his cheek and he breathed a tiny kiss to the palm.

This time it didn't make John's heart stumble but jump and Randy felt the hold on his hand become firmer.

Don't ever let go, Johnny…

In a way their joined hands were symbolical, reflecting their relationship. A bond, still growing and fragile because all it took to tear it apart was… to let go. A ceasing hold. A hand pulled out of loving fingers. Yet it was strong because the hand which threatened to slip away never really wanted to let go, just like those loving fingers which held on tight, no matter what.

The past hour Randy had spent thinking of a way what to do, how to start. He couldn't snap his fingers and make undone what he'd caused and he couldn't smile the bad feelings away. He knew that they wouldn't wake up tomorrow and everything was fine. His brooding had come to nothing.

And then John helped him out.

A hot bath was always good, could ease any kind of tension and so clearing his throat the older man asked: "How about a nice hot bath? It'll do you good."

Randy hadn't even breathed his yeah when he felt his friend's hand glide out of his and he heard him leave the room, followed by the sound of running water. A grin spread on his lips because a bath was a perfect start. John would be close the whole time… and doubtlessly a reason could be found to get him even closer.

Encouraged he crawled to the edge of the bed, fishing for the wheelchair and with careful hurry he climbed in and followed John to the bathroom. He made his way slowly yet without hesitation. The mental map thing worked, at least for this short passage. But the moment he reached the door hesitation caught up with him and with it very vividly what had happened only a few hours before.

Don't go there, Randy warned himself, softly shaking his head as if he wanted to shake the memories off.

John obviously hadn't noticed him yet since the busy sounds continued and so Randy called his name quietly. A surprised gasp was the answer. Slowly he moved the wheelchair in the direction the gasp had come from but he didn't come far as hands settled on his, stopping him.

"You surprised me," John said close to his ear.

"That was the plan," the younger man replied.

For a second or two his friend's presence lingered this close before John pulled back, giving the younger man room to slip out of his boxers. Randy seemed to slowly arrange himself with his situation, John noticed. Get dressed, undressed, moving about the house. And silently John did exactly what Dr. Green had warned him about – he hoped more and more that Randy's sight would return soon.

When Randy was done he picked him up bridal-style, cautiously letting him slip into the hot water. His reward was a contented sigh. John though couldn't stop the groan that escaped his throat. Randy had lost weight, but he still wasn't quite a lightweight and his own back was complaining about the strain of the last days and weeks and his head and the dizziness chimed in. Randy's head snapped around to him at the sound, the blind eyes looking through him, past him and it was a thing he'd seen so often by now, yet at some moments it was still a bit disturbing.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

The low rumble carried tender concern and warmth, tugging at John's heart.

"Nothing," he lied and got a skeptically arched eyebrow in response.

After all that had happened today Randy didn't buy that and John was aware how poor his attempt of lying was, but he just didn't want to evoke even more worry.

"Yeah, sure. Spill it, Cena," Randy demanded.

"Really, it's nothing. Now, do you need anything else?" John asked, trying to change the subject.

"John…" Randy said warningly and got a sigh in response.

"Yeah, okay. Okay. My head hurts and my back… hurts too," the older man explained defeated. "But it's nothing serious. So? Need anything?"

John's hurting back was the perfect reason to talk him into getting into the tub with him.

"Yeah. I need you to get in here and give yourself a break," Randy stated, the arched eyebrow perfectly in place.

"Uhm… no," John muttered. "Thanks, really, but I have to fix dinner and the tub's not big enough…"

"We won't die from meals on wheels for once, so get into the tub, man!" Randy snapped and the eyebrow dropped, his gaze becoming a glare, but it was rather worried one.

"But…"

"No, John! The tub is big enough. Get. In."

John's mouth snapped shut. And then he sighed again. It wasn't that he wouldn't have wanted to climb into that tub and the hot water with Randy in it. After all the time it would be heaven to be so close to him this way. He would have loved to, really really loved to. But… truth to be told, he didn't trust his own body not to embarrass him… and he didn't want to push his luck. Randy's hand settled on his and the long fingers closed around it, gently tugging him closer. And then his name was spoken so softly that he couldn't help but give in.

"Okay," John agreed finally, a bit nervous also. "Wait a second."

As he straightened up it seemed that Randy didn't really want to let go of his hand but there was an honest and light smile on his face, a smile that made John smile, too, and while he got rid of his clothes he hoped that he wouldn't screw things up.

The tub was wedge-shaped and it was big enough for two persons. Admittedly big enough for two normal-sized persons, not for two slightly over-sized persons like John and Randy. It led to more or less bumping shoulders and legs and it took John a moment to find a good position. Finally he sat slightly turned towards Randy, his arm behind Randy's back, resting on the rim.

"That okay for you?" he asked quietly, carefully testing the waters.

"Sure," Randy murmured, the small smile remaining on his lips at the almost shy way John behaved and it took the older man all of his self-control not to jump out of his skin when his friend's hand settled on his thigh. And again Randy murmured: "Enough room for you?"

The hand remained on his thigh and John tried hard to think of something off-putting enough to stop his blood to flow to southern regions and was more or less successful, but a slightly tortured groan made its way past his lips nevertheless.

Randy squeezed John's thigh lightly, feeling it twitch a little, before he pulled his hand back and suggested: "If you sit in front of me I can give you a back-rub."

"No, no. It's fine, I…"

"Cena, will you stop that? Your back hurts and a back-rub will do you good. I may be blind and okay, I can't move my legs, but my arms and hands are working pretty good and if you're not into back-rubs with feet, I'm very capable of giving you a damn back-rub! So will you finally sit in front of me and let me do this for you?"

With another defeated sigh John obeyed, climbing in front of his friend to sit between his legs, yet keeping enough distance to avoid embarrassing contacts. They were on their way and it was a good way but they weren't back at being an item and he didn't want Randy to feel pushed in a direction he maybe wasn't ready for. And then John smiled a sad little smile as his mind drifted back. It had been the shortest relationship of his whole life. One single night. Hopefully that one night would turn out to be a whole life together…

Somehow Randy sensed that John was brooding and when he settled his hands on the older man's shoulders, very cautiously, soothingly, and he felt how tense he was as he began to run his hands over his shoulders, his back, over soft skin. Goose bumps flared under his touch… and he felt tense muscles melt slowly as he kept the caress up. And John couldn't help the way his breath caught in his throat because his heart stumbled in his chest, again and again. He couldn't believe that this was happening. This… he prayed that this wasn't just a dream… this was more… it had to be more…

Gentle fingers found their way to the base of John's skull… and fingertips were gingerly brushing over sensitive skin before Randy began to work on the older man's neck with the gentlest of touches and so very cautious… working his way back down to his shoulders in slow circles which became soft digging, tugging… at the right points with just the right pressure… perfect… Warmth spread throughout John's body, sparkling, tingling and he felt like he could breathe again. Finally.

A few tears of relief spilled from his eyes and with a faltering sigh he dipped his head a little forward and watched as the droplets fell to the foamy surface. The relief brought a smile to his face and a strange lightness along and when skilled fingers moved down to the small of his back it was a moan that escaped his throat.

It was a moan so needy that it made the hair on Randy's neck stand on end. Although closing his eyes shouldn't have made much difference… it did make a difference. Maybe it was more of a habit but when he did it, it seemed that his other senses centered somehow… scents became more present, sounds more clear and touches… more vivid. Like now…

The softness of John's skin under his fingers made his heart to run a little faster and the goose bumps under his touch caused goose bumps to flare on his own skin and he shivered in unison with John as he drew another moan from the older man and gods, it was stirring the need for more.

… addictive…

This man was… his life. His life. John belonged to him. He was graced with being allowed to love him and be loved by him.

It was time…

Hesitantly he smoothed his hands along John's sides, to his abs, fingers tracing the patterns of picture perfect muscles, trailing up then to the broad chest and he felt his friend become stock-still, felt his breathing die away, the heartbeat under his touch speed up a bit and very gently he pulled John back against him. John didn't give any resistance, too afraid to break the spell which was lying on the moment, that it would shatter to a thousand of pieces if he did and he hoped that maybe, if this spell would just linger long enough, that this moment could, would change the horror of the past days to a happily ever after. And because John let himself being pulled back, Randy wrapped his arms around him in a tentative embrace, resting his cheek against the short hair.

"Thank you…" he said hushed.

The little words made John's heart flutter and for a second or two he closed his eyes. Hoping. Wishing, praying, begging…

"Randy, what…?" he asked hoarsely, carefully, but somehow he couldn't end his sentence, couldn't bring the words to leave his lips but he didn't need to anyway, because his unspoken question hung very graspable in the air.

A deeply bitter smile tugged at Randy's lips as a certain thought flashed through his mind, leaving again thick guilt behind.

I could have spared you so much pain…

It was the second time this thought made a visit to his mind. Just like back then at the hospital as he'd realized that he wanted to fight and live.

Fight and live… for you… for us…

"Thank you for not giving up on me, for being there for me. Again and again. Thank you for believing in… in us. Thank you for being who you are. God, there are so many more things I have to thank you for that I don't even know where to begin or how to make up to you for all you've done," Randy whispered, not trusting his voice. He leaned in and dropped a kiss to a broad shoulder, a second and a third, inching closer to the older man's neck, causing a heavy shiver to run through John and he murmured against the soft skin: "I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Every day, every minute. I want to fall asleep in your arms every night and I want to wake up to the feeling that you are right there, at my side. I love you and I need you and I want… I want our life. That is… if you still want me?"

Silence. Utter silence and for a horrible moment Randy feared that he had said too much, too soon… or that he was too late. And for that moment John could only stare, eyes wide in wonder as the words sunk in. They echoed in his mind, beautiful words with the strength to save a life.

Time stopped. And then it started again.

It was a dull burning in his lung that made him realize that he'd stopped breathing. Drawing precious air into his lung he dipped his head back, resting it against Randy's shoulder as he settled back heavily against him.

"Do you even have to ask, you goddamn idiot?" he exhaled in a shuddering breath but it held no blame, only the undisguised joy which exploded in his chest this very second.

His arms came up and his fingers wrapped around Randy's wrists in an almost painful grip, loving the feeling how his friend's arms wrapped even tighter around his chest. He wanted to say so much… but all that left his lips was a sob and he felt hot tears spill from his eyes again and he hated it, hated that he was crying again because he was sick of it, even if it was out of happiness and relief. He had cried more than enough for one life.

The words failed Randy, too. The few seconds of waiting for John's reaction had felt like a little eternity and now something deep in him uncurled and oddly enough… it brought calmness. It flooded him, bright and agleam and it illuminated every dim corner of his soul. His eyes burned but no tears followed and he wished he could take the tears away from John. Turning his face a tad towards him, he placed a kiss right under the older man's ear.

"Don't," he whispered, again placing a kiss there. "Don't cry, Johnny."

A soft nibbling on the shell of John's ear, a soothing kiss to his temple and John pressed back against him, breathing his name still tearstained but lightness was lacing into it. A broad arm came up, the hand settling on Randy's nape in a firm yet gentle hold in an attempt to get even closer somehow and nuzzling his face against the younger man's neck he whispered his name again. And again.

Randy…

They remained like this, savoring the pure feeling of just being close. Tears stopped falling, ease settled over them and after long minutes John gently tried to loosen the arms around his chest and Randy let go, although only reluctantly and when the older man turned in his friend's embrace he felt hands slowly smooth down his back to his backside, where eager fingers dug into firm flesh, pulling him closer and there was a glint in those beloved eyes, a sparkling, enthralling him as it became stronger, more visible… alive, that beautiful grey turning to silver.

With a hum on his lips the older man braced his hands beside Randy's hips, half kneeling, half lying between his legs as he wrenched his eyes away from Randy's, searching the handsome features, coming to stop at invitingly parted lips, beautiful, perfect and addictive and because those lips belonged to him now… he claimed them in an innocent and infinitely sweet kiss, all soft stroking of tongues, slow and begging and breathtakingly tender. A kiss that made their bodies tingle in love and anticipation and sparked a colorful firework of all kinds of good.

It was goddamn perfect in its simplicity, golden and pristine, tasting of love and promises.

The kiss lasted long moments, graced with contented little moans and hums, until they finally had to come up for air and when John leaned back in for more, Randy's hands left their place on his backside to trail back up to his shoulders, gently stopping him.

"Wait."

The word wasn't actually a question, but the tone it was spoken in was kind of asking. John obeyed, noticing that Randy's breathing was somewhat shallow all of sudden. And then his hands settled on his face.

"Let me see you," Randy whispered, desperately almost, the blind eyes closing in concentration. "Please, John, I want to see you."