Heh heh...I'm really getting these thingies out fast, huh? It's all thanks to my dear, greedy readers who badger me so sweetly. Seriously, I love you guys, you rock, you keep a big, cheesy smile on my face. :) Aph, who's kinda like my twin; Stacia, whose writing has permanently infused a big grin on my face; Wen, who just plain rocks; Red, who's tearing her hair out; Ann, who knows these characters better than I do :); Elly, who's way too sweet to be wasting her time reading my crap :); Casey, who's somehow reading ahead :) and all of you - I have something to say. I know you're all worried about Justin. Guess what...he's not seen in this chapter! Ha ha! Next chapter, I promise!
DISCLAIMER: blah blah fiction, blah blah not real, blah blah they're gay or they're not, I dunno. Blah blah. Blah.
Ready for the story? What the heck...prepare for a plot twist or two...
~NO PAINLESS WAY~ Chapter 8
"Dreaming men are haunted men."
- Stephen Vincent Benet
Chris plopped down on the couch across from where Detective Murray sat.
Though the singer wasn't many years younger than himself, the officer gave him a decidedly paternal smile.
"I appreciate this, Mr. Kirkpatrick. Mr. Fatone needed a break."
"Call me Chris. And I'm glad to give whatever help I can."
"Okay. Mr. Fatone and I were going through lists of people your group has worked with..."
Chris nodded. "Lookin' for suspects, right?"
"That's right. Now, I've learned that one of the security guards assigned to you was a Mr. Jared Hawke."
Chris's fingers began to twiddle nervously.
"Yes, I remember Jared. He was with us in Germany, Lichtenstein and a couple other places in Europe."
Murray studied a piece of paper. "And his employment with you was terminated in June of 1997. Correct?"
"Yes."
"May I ask why?"
Chris shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
"He was suspected of selling information about us."
"To whom?"
"We never knew."
//There's more,// the detective's instincts suggested.
"Was that the only reason he was fired?" Det. Murray asked, looking Chris straight in the eye.
The singer sighed reluctantly. "There was another. But none of the other guys know about it. Will you promise not to tell them?"
"They will not be told unless it is vital that they know. If it isn't, they won't learn of it from me."
"Okay." Chris leaned forward and lowered his voice.
"Well, by then we all had the same bodyguards we do now, and Jared was one of the extra ones assigned to the whole group. They doubled as security for whatever place we were playing, ya know? Jared was already under suspicion of giving out private information about us - we didn't have solid proof, but everyone thought he was guilty, me included. Our management was considering firing him, but they take a long time to make decisions.
"So anyway, I was talking to Randy one time - that's Lance's bodyguard - and we got on the subject of Jared, who Randy really hated. I asked him why, and he said he didn't like the way Jared looked at Lance. I was shocked, 'cause I'd noticed it too, but both me and Randy hadn't been sure that it wasn't all in our heads. We had to allow for that possiblity, ya know, 'cause Lance and Justin are the group babies and we're all kinda protective with them. So Randy said he would confront Jared about it, and he did the next day."
Det. Murray nodded. "What happened?"
"According to Randy, he'd gotten Jared alone and asked him about the weird looks he gave Lance. Jared sorta smirked at him and made a sexual comment about Lance."
"What was the comment?"
"Randy never told me. You'll have to ask him. So anyway, Randy freaked out and punched Jared a few times before the other guards could pull him off - like I said, he's protective. Lance is like his own kid to Randy.
Management almost fired Randy for that little incident, but we talked to them about what had happened and they fired Jared instead. He left and I never saw him again.
"We agreed not to tell the other guys, especially J.C. and Lance. J.C. would've started a lynch mob and Lance would've just gotten upset. Plus Lance was under eighteen then, and if his mom had found out she might've pulled him from the group."
Murray was scribbling some notes. "You have no idea where Mr. Hawke might be right now?"
"Not a clue." Chris's face darkened. "You think he might be involved in this?"
"We'll look into it. Thank you, Chris."
"No problem. You wanna talk to Randy? I can send him in."
"Yes, I'd appreciate that."
Chris left, and a few minutes later a tall, muscular man took his place.
"Hi, Detective. Chris said you wanted to talk to me?"
"Yes, sir. Please sit down."
"Randy's fine. Sorry to have kept you waiting - I was checking on Lance. Poor kid hasn't been sleeping well."
Murray smiled at the man's obvious affection for his charge.
"I wanted to speak with you about Jared Hawke."
Randy's large fists clenched.
"Very well."
"Chris told me the circumstances under which he was terminated as an 'Nsync bodyguard. However, he said I'd have to ask you about the conversation you had with Mr. Hawke before you began fighting. Can you tell me what was said?"
"Well, I told Jared I needed to talk to him, and got him alone during one of the boys' rehearsals. I told him I didn't like the way he was looking at Lance all the time. And he just laughed and said..."
"Said what?"
Randy's voice grew cold.
"He said, 'I'll stare at that pretty little brat all I want to, at least until I can touch him instead.' I was so mad that I pushed him, hard, and he pushed me back. I told him to stay the hell away from Lance, and he smirked and said, 'But if I do that, I'll never get to fuck his cute little ass.' That's when I started punching him."
Murray nodded.
"Can't say I blame you. Did Jared ever show this sort of interest in any of the other boys?"
"No, just Lance." The anger in Randy's eyes began to fade.
"Were there any other incidents of this nature?"
Randy sighed. "None that extreme. They're good-looking kids; I've seen a lot of people, both genders and different ages, throw greedy looks and even inappropriate comments at all five of them. It's weird for them and it makes them uncomfortable at times, but they deal with it really well.
As far as I know, besides Jared, no one who works or worked with them has or had sick designs on them."
"Do you have any idea where Mr. Hawke is now?"
Randy's face hardened. "No, I don't. And I hope I never see him again, 'cause if I do I'm not gonna leave him legs to walk away on." -----------------------------------------------------------------------
Diane Bass quietly made her way to the stairs, and nearly crashed into J.C.
"Oh! Joshua, you startled me."
"Sorry, Diane, I didn't see you there. You going to check on Lance?"
She nodded. "You too, huh?"
He smiled. "Let's go."
They half walked, half tip-toed to Lance's room and peeked in. At what they saw they rushed in, the need to be quiet forgotten.
Lance was moving restlessly on the bed, as though he were fighting someone who wasn't there. The bass singer's eyes were closed, but he was repeatedly moaning something that sounded like 'stop'. Diane reached her son first and shook him gently.
"James, it's okay, it's Mommy. Wake up, baby."
Lance's eyes flew open and he shrank back in what seemed to be fear.
"Two twenty-nine," he whispered. "Something wood."
His green eyes blinked. "Mom?"
Diane embraced her son. "Yes, honey. You were having a bad dream."
J.C. looked at his friend. "Two twenty-nine? Something wood?"
Lance frowned. "What are you talking about, Josh?"
"You just said that. 'Two twenty-nine. Something wood.' What does it mean?"
Lance gently pulled away from his mother. "I-I don't know. I heard Justin calling, but I couldn't find him. Then I saw the number two twenty-nine. And wood...something wood..."
J.C. sat down on the bed and put an arm around Lance. "Justin was calling you?" he asked softly.
The strange green eyes lifted. "No. You."
J.C. placed his hands over his face. Lance tugged them away, ever knowing what his friend was feeling.
"None of us were there, Josh. Even if we had been, this still might've happened. We thought we were safe here. We had every reason to believe that.
"Remember the time in Switzerland when Justin and I went off exploring and forgot to tell you, and when we got back you yelled at us longer than Mom and Lynn put together? What you said when you calmed down? You said that, yes, there are safe places, but that we aren't safe people. That being anonymous was something we gave up, that we lost when the first crowd cheered us..."
//You boys are all close, all the time.//
"Josh, you were right. Maybe Justin shouldn't have gone alone, but it was his mistake. Not yours."
Diane watched silently, not interfering, as J.C. hung his head with doubt. Lance took his hands, their usual roles now reversed.
"Josh, I know Justin means the world to you. But you mean the same to him. If it was you this had happened to, would you want Justin to blame himself?"
J.C. shook his head vehemently. "No, never! It wouldn't be his fault!"
Lance leaned forward. "Then why is it yours?"
J.C. looked up, his face contorted with uncertainty. He searched Lance's sad eyes, his beseeching expression, for an answer to his question, the one he couldn't ask himself.
Lance seemed to know when this realization came, and smiled with relief. They all felt some guilt, especially J.C., and always would. But it wouldn't break them, not beyond repair.
J.C. managed a small smile and pulled Lance into a brotherly hug. "You're too smart to be stuck with us, Poo-Fu."
The boy pushed him lightly. "NASA's loss is 'Nsync's gain. Now go on...I'm gonna shower and I'll be down soon, 'kay?"
Diane and J.C. left, both feeling a little better.
"Diane, was Lance always like that?"
"Like what? Eerily perceptive, do you mean?"
"Yeah."
"Yes. He always had a knack for knowing what people are feeling, ever since he was very young."
They stood in the hallway by the stairs. J.C.'s face was relaxed and thoughtful; for a few minutes he was silent.
"What about the dream? Do you think it means something?"
Diane's face hardened. "Dreams are just dreams, Joshua. They don't mean anything."
He gently placed his hand on her arm before she could retreat.
"Why don't I think you believe that? What aren't you telling me?"
"Joshua..."
"Diane, please. I'm willing to try anything at this point. Have Lance's dreams meant something before?"
She sighed with defeat.
"When James was about nine, my husband's mother passed away. She and Lance had been close all his life; he was her favorite grand-child. Her whole life she had been very healthy, so when Lance came to me and said he had a dream that Granny had died, I thought nothing of it. He was so insistent that it seemed real...he kept saying that it was because of her heart, and that he could see blue flowers in her hand.
"Four days later we got a call from Granny's neighbor, an old friend of ours named Monica. Monica had gone next door and found the poor woman lying dead on the living room floor."
J.C. gasped. "Oh God."
"It had been a sudden heart attack. When she was found she had a blanket she was sewing clutched in her hands. White...with blue flowers." Diane looked away.
"And Lance knew?"
The woman's tone was apologetic. "Joshua, it frightened me. I never believed in things like that...precognition...ESP...so I just kept telling myself they were coincidences, all those times James knew things he couldn't possibly know."
"Did it happen a lot?"
"Yes, but they were mostly little things. He'd know what he was getting for Christmas, he'd come inside on a sunny day minutes before storm clouds gathered, he'd finish people's sentences for them. Oh, maybe his dream does mean something...I should've talked to him about these things long ago..."
J.C. tried to comfort her. "It's not too late, Diane. You were freaked out; that's understandable. I'll talk to Lance about this...maybe he can help find Justin."
"Oh, I hope so, dear."
Joey's voice was heard from downstairs. "Josh! Brian and Nick are here!"
"Brian and Nick?"
J.C. excused himself and dashed downstairs to greet the two Backstreet Boys.
Brian hugged his friend, unsurprised by J.C.'s eyes, which had been red from crying since the previous day. The man managed a weak smile for the people he was honestly glad to see. Nick shyly stayed close to Brian, but smiled back.
Brian spoke. "How you holding up, Josh?"
J.C. sighed shakily. It was answer enough; the guests nodded knowingly. J.C. looked at Nick curiously, then back at Brian.
"Can we talk to you guys?"
They exchanged looks and nodded. J.C. rounded up the rest of 'Nsync (including Lance, now dressed and back to his tranquil self) and the six singers gathered in Chris's room. When they had all sat down, J.C. stood, nervously running a hand through his short brown hair.
"Okay. We all need to talk. I'm gonna try to make as much sense as I can, but no promises. First things first..."
His eyes landed on Nick. "How did you know?"
The eighteen-year-old looked up. "About Justin getting kidnapped? I didn't. I just had a bad dream."
"But somehow you knew he was in trouble. Has anything like that ever happened to you before?"
"No, I don't think so."
J.C. turned to Lance. "But it has to you."
The spikey-haired blond nodded glumly.
Joey broke in. "Um...what are you talking about?"
It was obvious Lance wasn't going to answer, so J.C. did.
"Lance sometimes knows things before they happen, or things he has no way of knowing. Does it always come in dreams, Lance?"
"Nightmares," the boy whispered. "No. Look, I don't understand it any more than you do."
"I don't understand it all," said Chris. "Lance is psychic?"
Lance seemed upset. "I don't know lottery numbers and I can't tell you your horoscopes. I just know things sometimes! I can't help it!"
J.C. kneeled in front of his younger friend. "Scoop, it's okay. We don't think it's scary or that you're crazy..."
For once, Chris kept the witty comments to himself.
"But your mom told me about how you dreamed of your grandmother's death, and that same week she died. Now you're dreaming about Justin, right?"
He nodded.
J.C. whispered fearfully, "Is he still alive?"
"Yes. I saw him crying."
Joey sprang up. "Where? Did you see where?"
Lance trembled. "I DON'T KNOW! I CAN'T REMEMBER!"
J.C. lifted himself up and hugged the blond tightly.
"It's okay, Scoop. Just tell us what you do remember."
Lance took a deep breath. "Animals that didn't move, two twenty-nine, and something wood. That's all, and it doesn't even make sense. I'm sorry..."
Brian shook his head. "Don't be, Lance. Every bit of information helps. We'll tell the cops in charge of this case."
Chris sighed. "Look, I've been around Lance enough so that I'm not all that surprised by this. But if we go to the detectives with 'hey, our bass singer's psychic and he's got info', they're gonna nod politely and dismiss it, thinking we're all nuts."
"I don't know," said J.C. "A lot of police departments use psychics."
"Yeah, pros like Sylvia Browne. Not celebrity pop-group members."
Nick spoke up hesitantly. "Well, it can't hurt to tell them. Even if they don't treat it as fact, they might be open-minded enough to keep Lance's information in mind while they investigate. I'm sure they will if you ask."
Joey nodded. "Yeah, I agree."
"Okay," said J.C. "Let's tell them."
"Um..."
"Yeah, Brian?"
"While we're on the subject of dreams that could mean something..."
Brian and Nick related the story of Nick's strange nightmare that morning. When they finished, Nick handed a folded piece of sketch pad paper to J.C., who looked as though he were about to be sick.
"Nick, I can never repay what you did for Justin. But I hope with all my heart that your dream is wrong."
Nick nodded. "Me too. Don't worry, it's probably just 'cause of what happened to me. I just thought I should let you know, just in case. That's a drawing I did of the face of the man in my dream. If he is real, maybe one of you guys will recognize him."
J.C. looked at the sketch, blinking in surprise at how well-done it was. "This is amazing. But it's no one I know."
He held it out to the other guys. Joey and Chris shook their heads sadly, but Lance snatched the paper from J.C.'s hand and studied it intently.
J.C. stared at him anxiously. "What, Lance? Do you know him?"
"I...he looks sorta familiar, like someone I saw in a dream. But no, I don't know who it is."
He handed the drawing back to Nick. "I do have a bad feeling about him, though."
J.C. wiped his eyes roughly. "Nick, hold on to that sketch, okay?"
"Sure."
J.C. moved to the door. "Let's go talk to the detectives."
Chris followed last, thinking.
//They may toss us all onto the funny farm, but what the hell. Any chance that might get Justin back is worth taking.//
~to be continued~ And fear not, we'll be seeing Justin again very soon. Questions, comments (no flames) welcome to me, DaraLynn, at DaraLynn_writings@hotmail.com