Time
Title: Time
Rating: T
Summary: You never see it coming, it just hurts when it's gone.
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: I own nothing and no harm is meant. Seriously people, this is FICTION.
Beta: None, all mistakes are mine.
A/N: Alright so I do realize it's been a while since I've written anything plus if there is still anyone wanting to read Bittersweet Hero, have no fear. I haven't forgotten about it, school has just been a bitch. Thanks to two impromptu snow days, I may be able to get another chapter of it up by the weekend.
As for this right here, well be forewarned, If your looking for a happy uplifting story, you might want to backtrack.
Tears he would never admit to crying silently slid down his cheeks as he clutched that infamous purple baseball cap to his chest.
They said time healed all, whether it be wounds of a physical, emotional or mental kind. Time was supposed to be the peacemaker for all. He wasn't quite sure who 'they' were but Randy would give just about anything to find out.
He'd like to ask them if they'd ever really been in love. You know the kind that took your breath away every time you walked in the room, or where just one dimpled grin flashed your way could erase all thoughts about how shitty your day was going or how badly your shoulder's were acting up.
He'd ask them if they'd ever experienced the kind of love where you wanted to know everything about a person, what made them laugh without inhibition; unconcealed joy, love and trust shining through in those perfect baby blues. What made them upset or pissed them off royally so you could be sure to never cross that line unless it meant there was a greater gain waiting on the other side. A new understanding about each other or proof that their bond was as strong as they proclaimed it to be, family's careless words and thoughtless actions be damned.
He was absolutely positive they had never thrown caution to the wind and put the best damn thing that had ever happened to them on line, their future happiness dependent upon the others answer. Acceptance and reciprocation preferred but knowing the risk of rejection was just as likely.
Time was fleeting, judgmental and waited for no man. Randy just couldn't see how it healed anything let alone a broken heart.
He shifted just ever so slightly at the end of the bed so as not to disturb the boy resting peacefully, unaware of his lover's turmoil. Standing, Randy quietly made his way across the room, stopping only to pull on some sweats and slip an old shirt over his shorn head. The orange fabric may not have been as long as his torso but it was wide enough to probably fit another half person alongside him. His actions were hindered somewhat by the fact that he hadn't let go of the cap.
Randy sluggishly, albeit carefully maneuvered his way down the empty hallway and old wooden stair case. The problem with falling in love with the charm of an old home was having to adjust to all the sounds it made, creaking floorboards probably one of the most annoying and though he'd closed the bedroom door behind him, Randy really didn't want to chance waking his partner.
He wasn't prepared for another fight, hadn't yet built back up his wall from their last. The pain those questioning eyes held was too much of a reminder of how he'd settled when it came to the matters of his heart. Though Randy may have never said anything, the kid knew he wasn't 'the one' and could never be but a drunken confession, comfort offered and accepted, a burning touch and an air of familiarity led them to where they were now. If Randy sometimes called out a name that was nowhere near his name even in syllable, he pretended not to notice while the older man pretended not to remember.
Randy came to a sudden stop, not remembering climbing down that second set to stairs to reach the basement level nor creating the fire that was currently blazing away in the old hearth. Forgoing the urge to drink himself into oblivion, Randy sank down onto the edge of his favorite lazy-boy, allowing his face to nestle into the perfect 'v' of his tattooed arms, cap resting on the arm of the chair.
He never saw it coming, but wasn't that how these situations always turned out. Never miss a good thing till it's gone, hind sight's 20/20 and all the other old cliche's he'd heard growing up or late at night on the road traveling by car to the next city when it was close enough. Stolen glances at the man sitting next to him gone unnoticed for years each time one of those sentimental songs started playing.
To tell you the truth, Randy actually did see it coming but ignored the subtle signs just like everyone else. It was just so hard to believe that everyone's good ole' Johnny boy was ...depressed. The man could go from 0 to 60 in less than tenths of a second, could stand to be in Randy's presence, and could make any annoying hollering baby shut up in no time with silly faces, dimples on full display.
Nope, depression just didn't fit the bill, so Randy ignored the way his smile dimmed just ever so slightly with each passing month. He ignored the pure worn out exhaustion he seen one day on the older man's face when he thought no one was looking, ignored that nagging voice in the back of his mind that said something was wrong and ignored the first time his buddy turned him down to go hang out since their OVW days.
It wasn't until he caught sight of the first bruise marring the back of the older man's right thigh while they were changing one night after another grueling show that Randy made a conscious decision to pay closer attention to the older man cause he was pretty damn sure that bruise didn't come from a low baseball thrown by his younger brother Matt. Matt had said as much plus told Randy the family hadn't seen Johnny boy in months.
It wasn't until workouts were missed that Randy voiced his concern but was promptly told everything was fine and that he was still getting enough exercise. It wasn't until John slipped out of kayfabe on screen one night that Randy and everyone else for that matter truly realized something was wrong and starting paying attention, demanding answers from the self-proclaimed Superman. By then though, it was too late.
His walls were built firmly in place, one excuse after another for each question until phone calls were ignored or doors were left unanswered.
The one time Randy had been able to get through John's front door, he'd done the unthinkable or what most believed impossible. The talking had turned into raised voices then a full out shouting match before the punches were thrown. His fist had barely clipped the older man's face but it was enough. John was down for the count, split lip spilling blood all over plush white carpet. That's when Randy noticed just how weak and exhausted the older man looked with dark circles and bag surrounding his eyes, the way his clothes suddenly seemed a hell of a lot larger on his frame.
The quietly croaked "Get out" a welcome excuse for Randy to get the hell out of dodge. He was shocked and scared shitless he may have just caused more damage to his best friend. Now he wishes he would have stayed.
Creaking floor boards somewhere upstairs brought Randy back to the present. His partner was up and probably looking for him.
He swiped at his cheeks, trying to erase all evidence he'd been crying though he knew his eyes would be red as hell. Stuffing out the fire, he took one last look around the room, eyes landing on a picture of him and the overgrown kid about six months before things started changing.
Their smiles mocking, making him ache for just one more chance. Maybe the older man didn't realize just how much Randy had loved him or maybe that was the problem. Love wasn't patient nor kind. Love had sat there and watched him die.
Severe depression and self-harm where no one would notice at least not right away, mainly his thighs. Randy still didn't know the reasons why and it killed him inside each time he thought about it. Time was doing nothing for him, a year had gone by and Randy could still feel the pain as fresh as the day he'd received that phone call.
Flicking off the lights, he made his way back upstairs, bracing himself for another fight.
A/N2: Thoughts, questions, criticism? It's all welcome.