Work Text:
Ten minutes.
Ten minutes a day was the longest Randy could go without thinking about Jeff. His image lived in the young man’s head. Ever since they had met that one unfortunate day at the bus stop in middle school, Jeff and seemingly made permanent arrangements to stay on Randy’s mind. Woods was like a disease, an illness that ate as deep as it could into his brain. He rotted everything he touched. It was stupid how much Randy thought about the other man considering Jeff couldn’t give a damn about him. Though it seemed that things had become worse given the recent series of events in their small coastal town.
Peter Woods was dead. The news detailed the grizzly justified homicide that had taken place in the small, suburban neighborhood the Woods family lived in. The most sickening part was that Jeff had been the one to kill him. Randy wasn’t even sure if he wanted to stick his nose in the other man’s business. He had heard from Keith that both of the Woods twins were in the hospital. Never in a million years had Randy ever thought Jeff was capable of killing his own father. Perhaps that was a lie Randy was trying to tell himself though. It made him feel more empathy towards the other. It allowed Randy to set aside his own petty feelings towards the other.
Deep down Randy had always known there was something wrong with Jeffrey Woods. He saw it in his eyes when they had first encountered one another. There wasn’t anything behind them. Jeff’s eyes were dull, they didn’t hold any warmth. He stared through people instead of at them and Randy would be a liar if he said that didn’t freak him the fuck out. He hated to admit it, but the other man had made appearances in his nightmares as the slasher star of the show. Now he was getting a dreadful feeling of deja vu. Randy knew for a fact Jeff was capable of killing someone. Sure, it was to defend himself, but Randy had a feeling that once Jeff had gotten the feeling of blood on his hands that he would go into a frenzy.
Now he had to ask himself why he was in his car on the way to the local trauma center with a plan to visit him. Randy gripped the steering wheel of his dodge viper as he pushed his way through the busy lunch rush traffic. His jaw was tight and cold sweat stained his shirt. He pressed the breaks softly at the stop light, using his turn signal. He glances off to the left. The signs outside the trauma center point to the visitor parking. Randy bites the inside of his cheek and lets off the break as the light turns green. He cuts the wheel to the left and skims the parking lot for a free spot closest to the doors.
Now Randy stood in the lobby of the trauma center. He turned his head from left to right. The floor was remarkably clean and medical staff were constantly in a hurry to be in and out of the room. He turned to the front desk and walked towards it. Behind the front desk was a brunette receptionist lady with thick tortoiseshell glasses and pencil thin brows.
“Excuse me, ma’am?” Randy cleared his throat.
The woman looks up from her computer. Her rapid typing stops as she sits up. “Hello, how can I help you?”
He pauses. “I uh, want to visit a friend.”
The woman's sharp eyes rake him for a moment. She raises a brow at his awkward body language. “What’s this friend’s name?”
“Jeffrey Woods,” the name rolls off his tongue without a moment of hesitation. Randy had never answered something quite as quickly.
The receptionist looks back to the screen of her computer. Her computer mouse clicked as her glasses reflected the screen. She takes a long pause.
“He’s on the fourth floor in the recovery ward in room 420. Please wash your hands before you see him,” she replies. The woman’s tone is dismissive.
Randy takes a step back. “Okay, thanks ma’am,”
He swiftly walks towards the nearest bathroom. There Randy washes his hands thoroughly. He flicks the excess water off of his fingers before ripping off two brown paper towels to dry off his hands with. Without a second thought he balled up the paper towels and tossed them into the nearby trash. Randy leaves the bathroom and walks down the hall. He slows his steps as he spots the gift shop. He finds it odd for a trauma center of all places, but considering the place was big enough to have an entire floor dedicated to recovery he wasn’t going to dwell on it hard.
He stares through the window at the display of cards and the small stuffed animals. Randy pursed his lips. Would it be gay to give the guy he hated a get well soon card and a stuffed animal? He bit the inside of his cheek and looked down at his reflection in the tile floors. Randy figured anyone who survived almost getting killed by their own father would like at least a little gift for not dying. Even if that person who almost got murdered happened to be Jeffrey Woods.
Randy entered the small gift shop and took a moment to wander through the aisles. He decided to grab one of those cheesy cards and a little Beanie Baby that was a horse. He vaguely remembered that Jeff liked horses. He always smelled like hay, leather, and dirty horse. Randy’s heart thumped faster as he thought of Jeff’s smell. The redhead was quick to scoff at himself and walk to the cashier in order to pay for what he had picked out. He carelessly handed the cashier his credit card and mumbled a brief thanks as he took a pen from the cup on the counter to quickly scribble a note inside of the card.
Randy slapped the pen back down on the counter and hurried out of the store and towards the elevator. He awkwardly shuffled inside next to a nurse.
“What floor?” the nurse asked.
“Uh-” he stuttered. “Four.”
The nurse would push the button and turn to him. “Are you visiting someone?” her eyes lift from behind her medical mask.
Randy ran his hand through his curls. “Yeah, seeing a friend.”
“That’s nice of you,” the nurse nods.
The elevator stops at the third floor and she steps off with a polite wave. Randy gave her a lopsided smile before the elevator doors closed once more and began to take him to floor four.
The doors open again to reveal the quiet hall of the recovery ward. Randy held his breath for a moment as he stared down the long hallway. He blinked as he realized the doors of the elevator were about to close one more. He quickly stepped forwards and pushed the button to open them back up. Now he stepped out of the elevator and began to walk down the hallway. Randy kept his eyes on the side of the wall that had the even numbers on it. In his head he steadily counted from 400, and all the way up to 420.
He came to a full stop outside of room 420. A deep pit opened inside of Randy’s stomach as he stared at the wooden door. That sick, sinking feeling began to take over him. He sucked in deep breaths. Why was he hesitating? It wasn’t like Jeff was going to kill him next, at least Randy hoped.
He raised his hand and knocked as if he’s at Death’s Door. Randy waits.
A groan echoed from inside the room. Randy leaned his ear closer.
“Come in,” is what Randy decides is being said.
Randy opened the door slowly and inched his way in. His eyes are on the floor as he moves inside. The door falls shut with a thud as his hand lets go of the handle. Silence weighs the air.
“Warren?” A muffled, rough voice asks.
Randy picks his head up. He can’t help but gasp at what he sees.
Jeff was laid back on the hospital bed. He had at least three different machines hooked into his arms. His face was swollen red and bruised a dark plum color. His left eye was almost completely swollen shut.
The worst of it was the stitches. From the edges of Jeff’s lips to his ears his face had been stitched back together. The skin was pulled and taught to try and keep the skin together. Jeff looked like he had just survived the Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Randy felt the sinking feeling turn into something else. Now his chest throbbed with an unfamiliar sensation he couldn’t remember the name of.
“I saw the news. I-” Randy stammered as he walked over, card and beanie baby in hand.
Jeff stared at him with a sleepy gaze. He looked like some sort of grotesque angel sitting in that hospital bed. Jeff’s long black hair sprawled against the pillow like ink. His bloodshot blue eyes stared at Randy now. The redhead felt his chest tighten for a moment.
“I got you these, I’m sorry,” Randy blurted out as he presented the card and beanie baby to Jeff.
The shorter man slowly took both of the items. He turned the beanie baby in his hands. Jeff thought it was cute. He had no idea that Randy even remembered what his favorite animal was. He was the last person Jeff had expected a visit from, and he was the second visitor next to his mother. He set the beanie baby aside and took the card in his hands. He squinted at the goofy cover. It made Jeff want to roll his eyes, of course Randy would hand him the most hideous get well soon card there was. He opened it up and squinted through his good eye to read.
“I know we hate each other. I don’t hate you enough to not send you a card though. I’m really glad you’re alive, even though you’re a dick. I’m sorry for what happened to you and Liu. I hope you get better fast. You’re still kind of funny and the only person who really puts up with my bullshit.
- Randy Warren.”
Jeff would have smiled if the nerves in his face hadn’t been hacked up. The most he could do was softly squint his eyes and raise his brows. He takes the card and sets it on the nightstand by his hospital bed.
He looked up at Randy. He saw the redhead staring at the bandages packed into his neck. Jeff quietly waited as the other man slowly processed this image of him. Randy looked as if he was seeing some kind of supernatural phenomena.
“He cut my throat,” the words came hoarsely from Jeff’s lips.
“He what?” Randy asked out loud.
Jeff raised his arm and made a slicing motion over his neck. Randy’s mouth was left agape as he watched this. Jeff rested his hands in his lap again as he watched Randy slowly sink into the chair on his bedside. They sit in a stiff silence. Randy stared at Jeff with a mixture of horror and disbelief on his face. The chair legs screeched as Randy pulled himself closer to Jeff.
“Why didn’t you tell me it was that bad?..” Randy asks.
Jeff takes a few moments to figure out hwo to articulate his speech.
“You don’t need to worry about me,” his hoarse words were spoken through gritted teeth.
Randy leaned forwards and reached out. Jeff flinched instinctively.
“Sorry- just, let me see your teeth,” he demands.
With a grimace Jeff forces his lips back. His eyes watered as the scabs on the Glasgow smile moved and cracked slightly. His jaw was wired shut.
“Holy shit dude you look like that guy from Silence of the Lambs,” Randy gasped.
Jeff stopped pulling back his lips and whacked Randy upside the head with a quickness. The redhead grunted and held the spot Jeff had struck him in. “Okay shit my bad!” He exclaimed.
Randy rubbed the side of his head that was left throbbing from Jeff’s quick strike. He now noted to not underestimate the fucker even when he was under the influence of oxycodone. He sat up again and looked at Jeff. Seeing him so fucked up and unable to barely speak made Randy sick to his stomach. He hadn’t even cared if Jeff had killed his father if this was what the man had done to him. Some stupid part of Randy urged him to hold the other, but he didn’t want to risk being next.
“I-” he pauses. “I don’t hate you,” Randy blurts out.
Jeff stares at him with a wide wide eye, the other barely able to open thanks to being bruised. He looked at Randy to see if he was fidgeting or looking away, but he wasn’t. He didn’t ramble on either. Randy meant it, and that made Jeff's heartbeat pick up. The monitor started to beep at a faster frequency.
“You know- I just, I realize just how much you mean to me,” Randy admits.
Jeff can feel the aching of his throat and the salty sting in his eyes that tears bring.
“I’m so sorry I -” Randy takes a deep inhale.
Jeff quickly snatched Randy’s hand into his calloused palm. He feels the pale redhead flinch before he returns the firm hold.
“Don’t say sorry. It ain’t your fault,” Jeff is able to wheeze. “There was nothing you could have done. But- I’m still here, so is Liu.”
Randy let out a shaky breath as he nodded. He continued to squeeze Jeff’s hand in his own. He sniffled and looked at the other. He didn’t even know what he could call Jeff. What were they? They had beaten the shit out of each other, drank together, smoked together, plotted against one another since they were kids, and at one point, there was that kiss they shared. Now he had almost lost all of that. Most people would have been happy to see the person they hated so deeply almost die, but Randy was hit with a cold wave of dread when the news came. Now that he had seen Jeff in the aftermath, he was shaken to his core.
He had never seen Jeff so out of it. He still looked so wounded even on pain killers. In a way it was kind of like seeing a father cry. The strong, invincible image he had built up of jeff had been ripped to shreds. Randy slowly leaned himself against Jeff’s shoulder, and he wasn’t pushed away. He felt Jeff’s head gently press on top of his as they remained there in silence, hand on hand.
Ten minutes.
It took only ten minutes for Randy to realize just how much jeff meant to him.