Bullet To The Heart

New, Like a Beginning

New Like a Beginning "Here" Randy said and walked a bowl of soup over to the couch where Elliot's friend had moved him from the wheelchair to the couch. He set the bowel on the side table next to him and looked at him.

He was the definition of a wreck, not that Randy expected anything less. Abe, the black man, told him they had been in a caravan and the car he was in was bombed, his left calf and shin were in pieces, hanging off his bone in shambles. Scrap metal slashed his torso open, and he doesn't have complete use of his right hand.

"Elliot, I know we aren't in the best place right now but I'm here to help, okay?"

Nothing. He hadn't said a single word since Randy showed up.

Randy sighed, picking up the bowl and blowing on it, "Ellie, face me, please"

He looked at Randy, his eyes clouded with disposition and the younger man lifted the spoon to his lips. At first, he kept his mouth closed tight but after a few soft –pleading- words he opened and began to eat.

"Do you?" he whispered, his voice rough, like he hadn't spoken in a long time.

"What?" Randy asked, not sure what he was asking.

"Do you still love me, or at least care?" he mumbled, looking down again, not wanting to see Randy’s face after he asked.

Randy nodded putting the bowl down on the coffee table and resting his hand on his, "yes, I care about you, I still love you, but I knew that this can't just go back to the way it was"

"We are both kind of f****d Elliot, you need help recovering from this and I am happy to help, hell I'm a little bit excited to sleep next to you again, but we really need to take this slow, alright? I'm working through some things—"

"That are my fault" he interrupted, self-loathing so clear in his voice.

"I spent that last half a year hating you Elliot, despising your very being, I can't do that anymore. I am so broken because I did nothing but hate you and myself. So never say that again, yes, you hurt me, but I am willing to move past that"

He looked at Randy again, tears welling in his eyes, Randy ran his hand over his hair and smiled softly, reaching over and placing the bowl on a towel in his lap, asking him to finish it. Randy stood when he agreed and walked to the kitchen. Randy placed his shaking hands on the white quartz counter tops and sighed, his breath coming out in gasps. What the hell am I going to do?

How am I going to help myself and heal him, can I deal with this? I mean right now all I really want to get high, this is way too much.

He opened his eyes, looking at the tile in the back splash that Elliot had handmade, it said 'Honey we're home'. No. Randy needed to stop thinking so negatively. This was going to work out, it was going to be okay.

He stood up straight quickly, grabbing a small glass and the bottle of Whisky he’d stashed in here. He threw back a violent gulp and breathed out. Just one drink, that's it, I swear.

He set the glass down as quietly as he could, Elliot knew Randy fell apart when he called, and Randy was drunk and high, but Randy didn't need him knowing he was still a wreck, he needed me to be strong for both of us. Randy walked out, and Elliot had finished the soup.

"When's the last time you took a shower?" he asked.

"The hospital" he said, and Randy nodded, placing his hands firmly on his hips and sighing.

"Well let's see if we can get you cleaned up, no offense but you stink like sweat"

"I can't get my wheelchair through the bathroom door" he spat, not mad at Randy but mad at himself, Randy was sure he hated being confined to the chair.

"Then I'll carry you" Randy snuffed, "or you can wrap your arm around my neck and you can hop, no self-pity mister, the Sterling’s don't handle that, and you said you'd become part of our family, so come on sir"

He looked at Randy, shocked but huffed and nodded. Randy helped him into his chair and he shook with annoyance. Randy wheeled him to the bathroom door, thankfully the house he decided to fix up for Randy wasn't a two story. They got to the door and Elliot reached up, wrapping a large and warm arm around Randy’s neck. Randy curled an arm around his waist and helped him stand. He groaned, pain very clear.

"How bad does it hurt Ellie?" Randy asked softly.

"Feels like knives in my legs" he hissed through clenched teeth.

"We will sleep after this, I promise" Randy pleaded, and Elliot nodded, taking a deep breath and he hopped forwards, resting his weight on Randy. Elliot was larger than the younger man, especially since Randy’s frame had been degraded by drug use.

Once Randy managed to set Elliot on the edge of the tub, he gulped, "I need to take your clothes off” Randy said, partially to himself.

"I have bandages too, it's bad if they get wet, I've learned"

"Abe mentioned that, he left a bag of your medical supplies" Randy said and nodded to himself, he ran his fingers over Elliot’s hip bones, sliding his hands under Elliot’s shirt. He shivered, eyes finally lighting up as he breathed shallowly. Randy held Elliot’s arms up, making it easy for Randy to rid him of his sweaty shirt.

Randy told him to hold onto him with his bad arm and support himself with his good arm. Once hovering slightly over the edge of the tub Randy quickly yanked his shorts and briefs down. Randy’s cheeks turned red once he came face to face with his limp member. Randy gulped and tried to ignore it as he sat in front of Elliot and unraveled his bandages. You'd be surprised how a body part could distract you from the huge gashes that covered his ex-lovers’ body.

He lowered himself in. Randy set the water to very hot, remembering how Elliot liked his water. He watched Randy while Randy let the tub fill and trotted around grabbing shampoo, conditioner, soap, and the ointment for his wounds.

"Hey Elliot" Randy said, massaging his shoulders.

"Hm?" he looked at Randy, hands covering his stump, as if ashamed to show his ex, "welcome home,” Randy pressed a chaste kiss to his temple.