Here's the next chapter. Took me long enough. :P
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Breathe Again
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John thinks that Randy doesn't know how to breathe anymore as Randy presses the cell phone harder to his ear to listen to the words more carefully and his heart beats with pain and pulses with vanity and he doesn't know if he's breathing or if he's dead and nothing seems to matter anymore than the words that are flowing so easily out of Sam's mouth and he just wants to be suffocated as she hangs up on him and the phone just seems to slip out of his hand your whole world's crashing and spinning out of control and you're spinning in it and you just want to stop the dizziness and the nausea and you just want to be better but you're not.
Nausea and acid knots and queasiness twists and turns and burns inside of Randy's empty stomach and he doesn't even care and his head's spinning and spinning and spinning with pain and bubbling agony and anguish and he doesn't even care and he tries to remember that he's alive and standing and John's right in front of him but he can't you think that your heart's just stopped beating.
Randy twists and turns away from a confused, concerned, disturbed John Cena and he doesn't say another word and he thinks he's lost the ability to speak because every time he tries to say "bye, John" turns into an attempt of trying to take a quick swift deep breath that'll last forever into his lungs but every breath just makes him feel emptier inside you had an angel in your arms and now, you're in Hell's gates and you're hoping that she's safe and tucked away and healthy and perfect but she isn't.
"Randy?"
John's voice is so muffled that Randy thinks that it's a so far away from his reach and he just continues to walk away and he doesn't think he can hear anymore and he's just so desolated and so very hurt and so very distressed into his own little world and he doesn't think that anyone can make anything better anymore at all and his eyes are dilating and his veins are cutting themselves to pieces and his arteries are popping out of their position.
And his entire world's spinning and spinning and spinning out of control and it's crashing and crashing and crashing down.
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John steps into Randy's room and he notices that the boy isn't even sleeping and he's staring into space and there's that look of pain and agony and desolation twisting and burning and plastered on his face and his eyes are two pools of depression and they're ice that's melted and they're filled with languish and need and want and John doesn't think that Randy's alive anymore but his lips are slightly parted and his eyes are twinkling and he wants that star in the sky back but he knows he can't have her.
Randy's fading and fading and fading away from reality you've never even been in reality, John…do you want him to lose his? And as words of affection "Randy? What's wrong?" pour of John's mouth, Randy still seems to not notice his words at all as he tries to speak a word but he doesn't even whisper and Randy doesn't look like he's breathing and John's heart twists with agony and pain and distress seeing Randy's terrified eyes replay horror into his head.
And John spends the night with Randy, holding him but Randy doesn't even seem to be alive, he's so lost into the darkness that he's in that he's creating his own little world of horror and terror and fear in his head you're not in his mind anymore, John and John finds himself, squeezing onto Randy's body, tightening his grips and whispering sweet words into his ear from "it's going to be alright" to "please, talk to me" every few moments, Randy doesn't even utter a word under his breath and John's so very scared for Randy's behalf.
He'd never see Randy fall apart like this.
And John doesn't know if he can pick up the pieces because Randy seems to be using those pieces to cut himself even deeper inside because in Randy's blue eyes, all that seems to be there is words that horrify John…
I deserve to bleed.
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Randy doesn't eat.
Nothing can feel me up anymore.
His mouth doesn't open up anymore and he's just so frozen in time that I don't know if I can bring him back to life. I think I'm lost in frozen time too now.
Randy doesn't sleep.
Corpses don't sleep.
He's always been so very asleep on the inside and he's waiting for someone to wake him up from the casket sleep he's been in.
Randy doesn't even look at John anymore.
I can't look at him without seeing pain in his eyes. I hate seeing John sad.
I don't know if it's my fault but I'm starting to suspect that it's my fault. Did I do something, Randy? Is it my fault? I'm sorry—is it really my fault?
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John steps into the room and he's expected to see Randy's body draped over the bed, staring at the pure nothingness of the world but when he sees that the bed's empty and that Randy's not even in the room, both relief and panic flushes over him and he doesn't know if Randy's hurt himself and he doesn't know if Randy's just taking a walk and he's so very scared of the options that are barreling through his head right now.
John hears the sound of a needle dropping in the bathroom and panic hits him in the more a needle to sink in your flesh and John realizes that it's a possibility as he races and runs and rushes to the bathroom door and realizes that it's locked. Panic and fear and terror burns through him as John knocks onto the door and John doesn't think that he can breathe and he steps back, letting his sneakers harshly step onto the door but it's still locked.
And John slams his foot harsher into the door, stopping so evenly to take short and sharp breaths and he finally breaks the door open and as the door's cracked open, he finds Randy on the bathroom floor, clad in shorts and a ripped black top, with bloodshot eyes having blood run from his eye sockets and his mouth's cut and the exposed flesh of his chest has white bloodied stitches on it and Randy looks at John without a word but the silence talks for them inside.
Randy, breathe.
I can't.
Randy, breathe with me.
And as John's hands entangled and wrap around Randy's body and he lets Randy's blood soak John's body and they don't care about anything anymore as John lets the tears run down his eyes from the distress and pain that's swallowing him whole and Randy sits there, a corpse, staring and he doesn't know how to wake up from this nightmare.
Breathe…breathe again for me, Randy.
D—dead people don't breathe.
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I have a thing for stitches and puppets.
:P Sam
Next chapter is 'Memory'.
Summary: One-shot song-fic of "Lonely Nights" by Scorpions. John wants to hold onto every moment of his and Randy's memories and replay it in his head because with every steady heartbeat they spend together, every memory—it lasts forever.
It's all angst, yes but there are bits of romance in it.