Sacrifice

Mike finished before turning to Randy. "I-I finished... Can I go get breakfast?" He asked quietly, still very much starving from not having eaten last night. It was no wonder Mike was underweight.

"Fine, fine. Go," Randy dismissed, not bothering to open his eyes.

Mike left as quickly as he could, happy to get out of there. He went down to breakfast and ate by himself, not bothering with the other superstars.

Randy got up and got dressed, feeling as calm as he could being him, not knowing what would happen in the near future.

John saw Mike go down to breakfast, looking like a ghost. He frowned but shook his head and went up to Randy's room, hoping to grab some breakfast with his friend. He knocked on the door. "Randy, you ready yet?" He called.

Randy looked up when he heard John's voice. "Yeah, the door's open!" he called out to him, fixing his belt. He was relatively calm... For now. It was always the little things that made Randy snap.

John walked in. "Hey man. You know, I just saw Mike. He looked like shit, you know what happened to him?" He asked casually and sat down on a chair.

"No. Why do you care?" Randy asked, holding back his feelings. The last thing he needed was John to figure out what was going on. Though in Randy's eyes, he was doing nothing wrong.

John shurgged. "I don't know, the kid looked like he was almost beaten to death. I wonder what happened... You should look after you man." John said, leaning back in his chair,

"John, just stay out of it, okay?" Randy said, his anger beginning to grow. He didn't want to deal with anyone butting in.

John shrugged, pushing Randy unknowingly. "Anybody could see there's something wrong with the kid. You just check it out and pay more attention to him. Just sayin'." He said with a shrug.

Randy growled and snapped, tackling John and starting to beat the crap outta him.

John fell to the ground and tried to get5 Randy off. He was strong, but Randy was stronger, plus he was pissed off. Eventually, he was fighting for consciousness.

Randy didn't stop beating on John until he stopped moving. He stood up, breathing heavily, seething.

Mike returned to the room so he could get their bags and bring them downstairs to the lobby. His eyes widened when he saw Randy. The man looked beyond pissed.

Randy turned when the door closed, seeing Mike. The man looked so scared but that was beyond Randy's comprehension. He tackled Mike and began to beat him as well.

Mike cried out. This happened so much... everyday. He hated it. He hated himself for putting up with it. It hurt him everyday. "Randy, stop, please stop..." He cried as he tried to fend off the larger man. He never said anything when Randy did this, but this time he couldn't help but beg the man to stop.

For a moment, Randy didn't stop. But Mike's begging caused something in his head to go off and he slowed until he had stopped. He sit there, on top of Mike for God knows how long, staring down at him, his chest heaving, his eyes wild.

Mike was shaking, tears falling down his cheeks in steady streaks. He looked shakily up at Randy, wondering g why he had abruptly stopped. "R-Randy?" He whispered, his body still trembling.

Randy climbed off of Mike, sitting on the floor, staring down at it. For the first time in years, Randy was ashamed of what he had been doing, of how little control he had over himself.

Mike sat up and wiped his tears, pressing against the wall as he look dat Randy. He wasn't sure if his lover was calm or not. He sniffed his bit, his body aching from the beating.

Randy's head slowly turned and he looked over at John, who was still unconscious. He couldn't believe he had hit John. John, his best friend, who he had never even /thought/ about raising a hand to.

His head turned again, this time to Mike. His eyes scanned the man, seeing how scared and tense he was. He couldn't believe he had treated Mike so badly. Mike didn't deserve that. "Mike," he breathed.

Mike but his lip and looked down. He didn't know what to say, he was just scared. Scared that Randy would lash out again. He didn't know how much more of this he could take.

Randy took a deep breath. "I need help," he said softly, not looking at Mike or John. He did. He needed help. He needed major help. And he could finally admit it.

Mike nodded shakily. "Y-Yeah..." He whispered, slowly standing. He groaned a little, cradling his aching, bruised ribs.