orbis terrarum in cinis cineris

Silver optics constrict his already shut lids tighter, a sensation of a cold burning press against his forehead urging a reaction to pull away, inadvertently, his body refuses motion. Slowly opening one at a time, half-lidded in pain as he sees the beautiful figure of the raven haired Cody Rhodes looking at him with trepidation. He is desperate to speak even when his mouth will not open to form the vocals that sound so faint in the back of his mind.

He cannot register their voices, and is unable to ask the suddenly silent voices in his head for help. He is sure they are not even existent now. He glances around the room, attempting to grasp hold of material he can remember. Registering that it is his own bedroom, he recognizes everyone, and everything... nothing has changed, and yet, his cognition has failed.

The Million Dollar Son enters the room inaudibly, stepping as if he was avoiding glass. His cobalt oculars an ocean of concern; by this, and the reflecting countenance within Cody's, and the understanding that something has gone wrong is prominent. He is handing the other man a bottle, its pungent smell reveals what he had not realized was the scent of his own blood; now replaced with familiar peroxide. The Viper's eyes clamp once more to the cloth pat and the liquid searing his foaming flesh. He can only assume he is pulling away from it.

Pining for answers, his whispers to DiBiase turn into a furious hiss. The cloth pressing against his wounds being too harsh as Cody's distraction leads to a slip of the hand. Orton's movement finally comes to reality, shoving his lover from the bed. Apologetic, he tries again, his dashing looks being an easy give to regain The Legend Killer's trust. The two naughty nurses refuse to listen to the exhausted protests coming from their patient, and are quick to hold him down to finish their task.

Randy reluctantly employs himself to relax and sinks into the sticky, wet pillow.

He tunes out their whispers that he doesn't reasonably grasp - and is convinced that he is not as severely injured as they're discussing; but had in all probability walked in to a door… or something similarly ridiculous. Interjecting, he demands they stop touching and cease their commotion like the medics backstage that he just cannot stand. Dissimilar to the fussing that he did enjoy, the kind that involved their fingertips running over his muscular form and their hips crashing against his own… in that case, they could have stayed as long as they wanted.

It is only when he feels the additional peroxide ooze from his forehead, with a blend of blood; dripping down the bridge of his nose that he realizes the excruciating pain. Cody is quick to wipe it away, and the metallic and medic smell is replaced with dryer fresh towels.

The pain, however, is no valid signal to the state that he has left in until his eyes encounter the blood-drenched towels resting on the floor. Orton is well accustomed to going through these motions; he has seen the familiar scene and situation before. Realizing the reality was never something he wanted, or chose to do; but a fantasy was always a fantastic replacement. The distraction? Being able to picture a whore- Halloween nurse costume on his younger lovers…

His lips curl into a grin as Cody tells him he will be back, picking up the towels from the floor, and giving his rear a shake because he always knows everyone is looking. The sets of gray and blue optics watch as Rhodes' sultry figure exits, an embodiment of faultlessness… even if he himself wishes to look more like his father.

The silver gaze into DiBiase's marine optics hold a wordless conversation as they meet, his wrists being released from their bolted position on the mattress. He does not have to say anything to find out what had taken place, and the younger man does not have to voice a response. Momentarily, he looks away from the Legacy's leader; a heavy, heartfelt sigh escapes the lips he has been biting down on before he turns back, quietly apologizing for the man that meant everything to The Legend Killer.

Without delay, they look away, just to catch every burning hot second of Cody's hips swaying as they carry the rest of his splendid body back. He places the fresh towels on the bed, searching through the walk-in closet for something to dress his personal Ken doll in, that had not been bloodied, or stained with. They find it amusing that he can always be caught humming the tune of his father's "American Dream" song.

His eyes shift among the duo individually as they sit beside his helpless form. The moment he attempts to sit up, they gently push him back down. Looking over their disheartened expressions, he quietly thanks them for taking care of him all of the time. He's miserable to know that his two boys always feel they need to clean up his messes; voicing this to them, he light heartedly jokes that he only required them for that when a title was concerned and their melodious blithe laughter adds much needed relief.

A smile arises on the lips of the unlikely damsel in distress, as his pointed ears seize the beautiful sounds of their affectionate voices laced with amalgamated faith and veneration, assuring him, in any case, they would stay beside him… Especially when something like "this" has occurred.

Cody kisses Randy voluptuously as only he can, pulling away slowly, his bright blue eyes connecting with Ted as if to dare him to do better, knowing that no one can compare. Perhaps jealous of the skills Rhodes' has, Ted gives Randy a sweet peck on the lips and does not turn it into a display of sexual prowess.

He sighs softly, relaxing into the soft sheets and the warm pajamas that Cody has managed to change him into - but he does not remember it actually happening. The idea of sleep lulls him in; until he is quickly shaken back awake by either of the two men. The strong, southern accent of the older of them explains that he possibly has a concussion, and needs to stay awake. He tells him to watch the television, that Randy hadn't even realized was turned on, or could hear it for the matter, and he settles for a joke that Lois is indeed very hott, for a cartoon chick, of course.

Randy nods slightly, and attempts to focus on the screen, his gaze occasionally diverting just to make sure he isn't about to fall asleep and give these two panic attacks over his health.

He shuts his eyes, gasping out silently and doing his best to ignore the sudden pain surging through his head and arching at the sudden sharpness between his shoulders. He hides it with a quick snuggle to Cody's gorgeous legs, grinning at the thought of the unclad from the jeans hugging onto them like a second skin. Randy tells him that tonight, he wants them off, failing to realize that it is already "tonight." Cody only shrugs to the attention his legs bring him, suggesting that they would be much better if he only looked like his father.

The roar of the beast outside the bedroom breaks coddled silence in the room. They know as much as they wish it was possible, that the door they have locked could contain what lay waiting for them on the outside, but it wouldn't have even been stronger than a mere toothpick against the beast. They know that the screams will silence soon, but lead to heavy, audible footsteps to the door that did not stand a chance, and that fact sends shivers down their spines.

Randy is quick to rise and protect his two lovers, who settle him back down as they're sure he's still too weak to go through that again, they make audible gulps as their eyes meet one another's, giving a slight, worried nod as they get off of the bed and head towards the door which only felt like going into battle at the roman coliseum.

Randy's mind is full of white noise, he stares up in silence at the white ceiling. His eyes unfocused, half lidded and attempting to keep them open instead of falling into the comfort of the snowy darkness. The sudden screams breaking through the frequency in his head widen his eyes, blinking only moderately as his eyebrows curl into concern, as their shouting grows louder. His teeth clench hard, grinding hard as he jumps from the mattress, storming out of the door and finding all of his strength in the sound of a hard slap colliding with Rhodes' face, accompanied by Ted's inability to really do anything about it but yell back, and try to protect his boyfriend the best he could - with himself.

Randy bursts out of the room, charging in fearlessly and taking one look at his boys cowering behind the white chairs. He hisses vilely, unhesitating to lunge at the leviathan, his fist colliding with anything possible, even when he has easily overpowered and turned into a flailing pile of limbs. His heart is racing, and his optics full of rage, wanting desperately to teach the older man a lesson.

With much ease, his nearly three hundred pound muscular form is lifted like a plastic bag from the ground, and slammed shoulder-blades first into the wall, conscious barely escaping him as he struggles to be let to the floor, his powerful thighs releasing a fury of flailing kicks that don't do him any aid. hard blow, The tight fingers around his neck release him to the floor in a heap just after colliding with whichever he could manage to strike with the wriggling body in his hand. Struggling to get up from the position, he collapses to the floor with a sickening gasp for Rhodes and DiBiase to get out. His grey optics almost as white as his bloodshot scleras, meeting up with the rage filled chocolate eyes of his lover just before loosing consciousness.