Kidnapped 6
By Diana
Author's Notes: Okay, you guys have waited long enough. Time for the big finish! :) The song featured here is Bryan Adams' "Everything I Do". A note of warning: Some of you may be disappointed by the ending. It's just my little way of saying "I'll be back!" wink
At times, he would forget where he was, how he had gotten there, and even who he was. During those short intervals, the brief retreats from his pain, he was sure he'd been in this hellhole for weeks, years, decades.
But those gaps would always fade, his mind could regain its focus, and Justin Timberlake-Chasez would start to cry again.
Through the solitary window, he could see a gentle red spreading across the sky. The first signs of sunrise. So it had been one full day. Exactly 24 hours ago, he had walked out of his bedroom, and into a neverending nightmare. He longed to see JC again, to wrap himself in those strong arms and keep the rest of the world at bay.
And instead, he was trapped here, held captive by someone he never thought he would see again, the demon who haunted his every nightmare: Jack Matthews.
Though he knew it would do him no good, Justin lurched forward again. The handcuff chain clinked against the radiator pipe, and a sharp flash of pain shot up Justin's forearms, causing him to cry out and sag back against the cool metal.
It wasn't fair. He had done nothing to deserve this torture; Leaving Orlando should have meant leaving Jack behind as well. He was finally happy, he was finally free... and now Jack had returned and made him a prisoner again.
But despite all this, Justin took solace in the knowledge that he could never be deceived again. Gone was the romanticized image he had held onto: Jack Matthews was a monster, plain and simple, and Joshua Chasez was the only man Justin would ever love. Nothing would change that.
Nothing.
The sound of rusted hinges squealing alerted Justin, who snapped to full attention. Was that Jack? What would he try now?
Sunlight filled the room, momentarily blinding him. He blinked a few times, and as his eyes adjusted to the sudden glare, Justin saw a figure moving towards him. It wasn't Jack, though... this person was shorter, carried himself differently...
Justin grinned widely, eyes shining with a new hope as he recognized who was coming towards him.
"Lance!" he cried happily, pulling eagerly against his restraints. He didn't know how his friend had found him, and he didn't care either. Lance had come to save him... and soon he would see JC again...
Lance didn't smile back. He strode evenly and calmly across the warehouse floor, and finally came to a stop in front of Justin, staring at his bandmate with a look of intolerable contempt.
And then Jack Matthews appeared, coming up from behind Lance and standing next to him.
Justin's exhilirated expression slowly slipped away, gradually replaced with one of utter horror as Jack came into view. "No." He looked from Lance to Jack and then back to Lance again, eyes widening the entire time. "No..."
Jack seemed amused by Justin's reaction. "You look surprised, hon. How do you think I found you, osmosis?"
Lance snorted. "Could've happened. If you had a brain."
The chained blonde shook his head slightly. "Lance..." he whispered. "No, Lance, no..."
"You figured it out." Lance smirked, bending down slightly to look into Justin's blue eyes. "Not so dumb after all, are we?"
The sobs came in earnest now as Justin realized the extent of his friend's treachery. "You sick bastard... Lance, how could you do this to me?!"
"What were you thinking, Justin?" Lance asked quietly. "That I would just let you HAVE him? That I would hand JC over to a fuckrag like you without a fight?"
"JC? This is about JC?"
Lance nodded in agreement. "He's mine now, Curly. All mine. He spent the whole afternoon fucking me."
Justin stared at his bandmate for a moment, and then gave a little laugh that was more hysterical than humored. "You're crazy. JC would never cheat on me. Never." If everything Justin believed in was a lie, this would remain true: JC loved only him. No one else.
"I didn't think you'd believe me." Lance smiled, jade eyes sparkling with evil. "So I brought proof."
And with that, he unfolded a piece of paper and handed it to Justin. The curly-haired teen took one look at it and went dead-white.
"No." he growled flatly, kicking the sheet of paper away.
Lance shrugged. "A picture's worth a thousand words... not that we did much talking. He is SUCH a great lover... can't get enough of me, I'm like an addiction for him. He was an ANIMAL. Out of control, ALL over me."
"You lying son of a BITCH!" Justin screamed, thrashing violently in an attempt to punch in his bandmate's smug grin. "He loves ME!"
"For WHAT?!" Lance roared back cruelly. "Your mind? Your good looks? Your home cooking? Or maybe it's your one-star performance in bed?" The green-eyed teen slapped Justin in the face, causing his rival to sag back against the radiator.
Dazed, Justin couldn't resist as Lance grabbed his chin and roughly directed the watery sapphire gaze back to him. "Your marriage is over. JC's mine, and he will be for as long as I want him. So get the hell out of here."
Feeling like he'd been catapulted into space, Justin searched his bandmate's eyes for a hint that he was lying. But though he could read JC like an open book, Lance had, over time, perfected the art of making people see what they wanted to see. And all Justin could find in those icy green orbs was total and complete honesty.
His world was crumbling around him. JC... and Lance? It couldn't be true. It just COULDN'T. Josh wouldn't... he wouldn't...
But the evidence was right there in front of him. JC was having sex with Lance. He was cheating on his husband, and didn't look too guilty about it.
It's a trick, Justin thought to himself desperately. But could he be SURE? JC had been a major player in the early days of N'Sync; never content with just one person, bouncing from girlfriend to girlfriend, sometimes dating three or four women on the same day. The others had always teased him about it, but JC had always excused his actions with the predictable "I'm just looking for the right one."
Justin had always assumed that HE was the right one. But was he? Was he really? Or had he been just another fling? He had never thought to ask JC that particular question: After all, they'd gotten married, hadn't they?
With a frightening certainty, Justin realized that the thoughts and feelings of his soulmate were suddenly unknown to him. Had something changed? Had he been oblivious?
Jack watched his shattered ex-boyfriend for a few moments, until he finally was overcome with pity. Kneeling, Jack removed a small key from his pants pocket.
"I can't see you like this." he said softly, unlocking the handcuffs. "Go. Get out of here."
Justin didn't even turn to look at Jack. Shakily getting to his feet, he staggered over to the table and grabbed his wedding ring. He then made his way over to the door, and with each step he felt his throat constrict more. But he couldn't cry. It just didn't seem real yet.
Finally, he reached the door. But as he grabbed the handle with a weak grip, he looked down to the gold ring in his hand. Memories of their wedding rose unbidden in his mind: He remembered how they had stood before friends and family, hands joined, and swore to love and cherish each other for the rest of their lives.
If anyone has just cause why these two may not be lawfully joined together, let them speak now or forever hold their peace.
Had Lance spoken? Had his seductive whisper gone unheard, right into JC's ear? When had this started? Now? After the honeymoon? Before the wedding? While they were still dating? When had JC started turning to Lance for whatever he felt Justin couldn't give him? And how could Justin have been so blind for so long, unable to see the obvious?
"Forsaking all others..." Justin murmured brokenly. His thoughts wandered unwillingly to JC and Lance. Why? Why had JC done this? Momentary gratification? Or worse, an ongoing temptation he'd finally given in to? Did JC kiss Lance like he kissed Justin? Had JC held Lance in the dark, saying things he had once said to Justin?
Imagining them in bed, in HIS bed, in HIS room, was the last straw. Justin's eyes welled up with tears, and the gold wedding band fell from his fingers, clattering silently on the ground.
Rearing his head back, Justin screamed so loudly that both Jack and Lance were startled. When his voice finally broke, Justin dropped onto his knees, completely unraveling; he burst into agonized sobs, utterly crushed by this final betrayal.
Lance and Jack exchanged a glance, and both were thinking the same thoughts: Did the ends really justify the means? In their mission to take back the ones they loved, had they pushed too hard, caused too much damage?
Neither of them knew for sure. But both were fully aware that they had come too far to stop now. They would see this through to the end.
Even if it killed them all.
Christina Aguilera cleared her throat, trying to cut through the silence that blanketed the room. Though jet-lagged and exhausted, she couldn't close her eyes for a moment.
Her companions were in a similar state: JC Chasez was sitting cross-legged on the bed, with Britney Spears beside him. Joey Fatone was slumped against the desk, head bowed slightly, and Chris Kirkpatrick lay on the floor, holding the band's "mascot" Busta in his arms.
It bothered Christina that she didn't really understand what was going on, that she was out of the loop. She hadn't expected Britney, her best friend turned arch-rival, to keep her updated, but JC and Justin... she had always thought that they would let her know if something big was happening.
And now there were all these things she had missed out on, things she was hearing now for the first time. She had always known about Justin's feelings for JC, it had been fairly obvious in the final days of the MMC. So she hadn't been too surprised when JC invited her to their wedding.
But she hadn't been prepared for THIS: For a dark tale about an ex-boyfriend who abused Justin, who beat and raped him, and almost destroyed his life. She hadn't been ready to hear about the desperate rescue attempts, about how the real Justin had slowly wasted away, dying... She couldn't see the Justin she knew in such a position. She just couldn't.
Yet it had happened. Britney's reaction to the name "Jack Matthews" was more than enough proof. And now Christina felt completely useless. A fifth wheel. Britney had been there for Justin, and she hadn't. She would never be able to forgive herself for that.
"It wasn't your fault."
Christina turned to find her "enemy", Britney Spears, staring at her. "What?" she asked tiredly?
"You've got that look on your face, like you're blaming yourself. You shouldn't. Neither of them do." Britney's dark brown eyes were flat, as though she couldn't muster enough real emotion to comfort her former friend, yet she felt obligated to do so anyway.
Christina, for her part, merely looked at the floor sadly. "I was touring when this whole mess started. Out seeing the world, singing my lungs out and having the time of my life. And you guys were here trying to save Justin's life."
"But we couldn't." Britney replied. "It was JC's job, not ours. He didn't need us."
The blonde shrugged. "At least they called you. No one told me anything. I went to the wedding, smiling like a dork and saying it was about time they got together and why had it taken them so long..." She buried her face in her hands. "God, I'm such an idiot..."
"They called me because I was closer to Justin. I dated him, you didn't. That's the only reason."
"Why are you doing this?" Christina abruptly asked, causing Britney to narrow her eyes in surprise. "You're supposed to hate me, remember?"
Britney sighed. "I learned a lot while I was helping Justin. Selling albums, getting awards... sure, it's great, but it can make you lose sight of what's really important." She looked around her. "I miss them. Everyone from the Club. I made some really good friends, and I let my success cut me off from them."
She turned to Christina. "Look, when this is over, we're probably not going to see each other for a long time. So I want to say this while I have the chance." Britney took a deep breath. "I'm sorry."
Christina blinked; clearly she hadn't expected this. "For what?"
"For calling you a copycat. For thinking you were trying to steal my glory. You're doing this for the same reason I am: Because it's something we always wanted to do. So... I'm sorry."
The two stared at each other for a long moment. Then Christina smiled. "Apology accepted."
But before she could say anything else, the door swung open, causing all five pop stars to jump in surprise. Detective Andrews and Detective Collins stormed into the room, past Chris and Joey until they were standing in front of JC.
"Okay, start talking." Andrews fumed.
JC looked up at them hopefully. "Did you find Justin?"
"Cut the act! We know what you're doing!" Collins shot back.
JC got to his feet, startled. "What the hell are you talking about?!"
"I'm talking about this!" Andrews shoved a sheet of paper into JC's hands. JC looked at it for a moment, and his eyes widened.
"Son of a bitch..." Joey breathed, and JC realized the red-haired teen was looking over his shoulder and had seen the picture. He turned to face his friend, and was alarmed by the hatred in Joey's eyes.
"Joe..." JC began, but he paused for a moment, not knowing exactly what to say. He looked down at the picture again. "This is a fake."
By now, the other three had gathered around JC, getting a good look at the paper's contents. They were all shocked by what they saw.
"Looks... pretty real to me." Chris stated neutrally, looking at JC with unreadable eyes.
JC shook his head. "It isn't. It ISN'T!" Shaken, he surveyed his friends and saw nothing but shock and distrust. "You have to believe me! I love Justin! I would never do this to him!"
Britney was the first to react, coming to stand next to JC. "I believe you." she whispered. She knew something was wrong here, but she trusted JC. And moreso, so did Justin.
"Me too." Christina added.
Chris was silent for a long moment, glancing back and forth from the picture to JC. Finally, he nodded.
All eyes turned to Joey, who had his arms folded in front of his chest, jaw set, eyes narrowed in anger.
"Come on, Joey, you know me." JC urged. "You know I couldn't have done this."
"Well, if you didn't, then who did?" Joey countered.
As if in response, the door opened a second time, and Lance Bass walked into the room with a smile. "Hey, guys!"
All eyes turned to him, and he froze, unnerved by the stares. "What? Do I have something on my face?" He took a step closer and his breath suddenly caught in his throat. JC was holding a slightly crumpled piece of paper. Upon which a very familiar image had been printed.
Lance swallowed hard, moving his gaze upwards to meet JC's eyes. Those eyes, which were usually so gentle and warm, were now glowing with an insane mixture of ice and fire, cold hatred and fiery anger.
"You..." JC growled, and two words penetrated the haze of panic in Lance's mind.
He knew.
Spinning around, Lance took off in a panicked run. JC was right on his heels, breaking into a mad dash to catch his backstabbing bandmate.
"Shit!" Chris spat, heading after them. Andrews and Collins followed, along with Britney, Joey, Christina and Chris.
Skidding around the corner, Lance felt his heart pounding in his ears as he ran down the hall, heading for the elevators. He didn't really know where he was going... all he knew was that he had to get as far away from Joshua Chasez as possible.
That thought came to a screeching halt when something caught him by the back of his neck, throwing him into the wall. Lance tried to escape again, but JC grabbed him by the throat and pinned him against the wall.
"Where did that picture come from?" JC growled.
Lance looked away, but quickly regretted that when JC punched him in the mouth. The flash of pain subsided rather quickly, though he felt blood oozing out of the corner of his mouth.
"I asked you a question." the older teen applied more pressure to Lance's windpipe. "Tell me or I swear to God, I'll kill you."
The murderous look in JC's eyes broke Lance's heart. He felt tears of sorrow and frustration slide down his cheeks; his picture-perfect future with JC was going up in smoke before his eyes.
"ANSWER ME!" JC bellowed loudly. Lance felt his willpower crumble in the face of his love's awesome rage and started to explain.
"HOLD IT!" Andrews screamed as he barrelled down the hall. The elevator doors were closing, and behind them the detective could see a hint of blond hair.
The doors shut just as the detective reached them. Cursing angrily, he turned to Collins, who was inadvertantly leading the celebs after him. The looks of determination on their faces persuaded him not to tell them to leave; they wanted to witness the end of this story. In person.
"The stairs!" he instructed.
They took the steps two, three at a time and finally reached the lobby. Again, Andrews took point, leading the group towards the parking lot. As he swung the doors open, he saw a convertible pull out. A blonde was driving, and a man with brown hair was in the front passenger's seat. The car peeled out of the lot and then accelerated down the street.
A loud beep from behind startled Andrews, and he turned around to see Collins driving their own vehicle. Spears, Kirkpatrick, Fatone, Aguilera and Chasez were already scrunched up in the back seat.
Andrews smiled as he got into the car. The chase was on.
"Isn't this nice?" Jack breathed dreamily, staring at Justin from across the table. The dusty, filthy surface had been covered with a white tablecloth, and decorated with two tall white candles burning brightly. He'd brought spaghetti and silverware from an Italian place down the street... not exactly the ideal romantic dinner, but he was trying. He had even gotten Justin new, clean clothes. To make him feel better.
But Justin was idly dragging his fork through the noodles, unable to think straight since Lance's "visit", much less talk or eat. Nothing seemed to matter anymore. He couldn't feel anything, didn't want to, because if he let the pain in, it would engulf him, it would drown him, and he would die.
"I'm sorry, Justin." Jack said tentatively, gauging Justin's reaction. Which was, to say, no reaction at all.
"I really am." he persisted. "I don't like JC, but I know how much you cared about him. You don't deserve this."
Justin remained indifferent to Jack's words, and the older man frowned. Had he pushed his love past his breaking point? Justin had always been so resilient, so unwilling to crack... he had lost that somehow. Thanks to JC.
Finally, Jack got to his feet, extending a hand to Justin. "Come here." he commanded gently.
The teen obeyed, and then gave a small gasp of surprise when Jack pulled him close and wrapped his arms around Justin's waist. They began to move slowly as Jack hummed a melody in his ear. Once he had been a pretty decent singer, with a deep, soothing voice, but now the broken notes that left his lips were barely recognizable.
As they shifted back and forth to the inaudible rhythm, Jack began to sing.
"Look into my eyes and you will see
What you mean to me
Search your heart, search your soul
And when you find me there
You'll search no more
Don't tell me it's not worth tryin' for
You can't tell me it's not worth dyin' for
You know it's true
Everything I do
I do it for you..."
The travesty of Bryan Adams' song continued, and Justin rested his chin on Jack's shoulder, looking past him. On the table, just within reach, was his dinner knife, lying untouched by the plate.
And somewhere, deep down inside the young man's soul, the hatred began to rise. This was all HIS fault. Jack Matthews had destroyed his marriage. Jack Matthews had ruined his life.
The anger multiplied as he thought of Lance. The backstabbing traitor who had taken JC away from him. The false friend Justin would have trusted with his life to. Justin had been deceived, played for a fool for so many years.
Justin's thoughts turned to JC, and he began to shake slightly, reaching his boiling point. Three months. The bastard had waited all of three months before jumping in the sack with someone else. The vows he'd made so lovingly, so gravely, were meaningless now.
The blonde placed a hand on Jack's back and gently began running it downward. Jack sighed slightly and continued to sing, eyes closed blissfully. Justin's fingers continued moving lower, towards the waistband of Jack's jeans. Moments before reaching them, he pressed closer into his tormentor's embrace. Jack sighed again, unaware that Justin had just grabbed the knife.
He studied the blade for a moment, and saw his reflection in the steel. For a split-second, he felt a wave of remorse: his face was caked with dirt, shadows lurked under his eyes, and his expression was twisted in a look of sheer hatred.
Justin had become the man he hated so much.
The sudden catch in Justin's breath was Jack's only warning, and it wasn't enough. Roughly pulling Jack to him with his free arm, Justin stabbed the dinner knife deep into his ex-lover's lower back.
The sound that came out of Jack's mouth was indescribable, like a howl and a scream and a roar all rolled into one. Blood splashed onto Justin's hands, but he just pushed harder, causing Jack to thrash in agony as the metal bore deeper into his body.
Spitting in Jack's face, Justin shoved the man forward, causing him to collapse onto the table. It gave way under his weight and crashed to the ground.
Seeing his opportunity, Justin headed for the door. This time, nothing would stop him.
Just as he reached the door, a loud crash caught his attention, and Justin jumped slightly as the window above him exploded outward, spraying glass onto the sidewalk outside. Justin whirled around and his eyes widened.
Jack was up. His legs and hands were shaking, and thin, tiny puddles of blood were forming at his feet. But he was standing.
And he held a smoking pistol in his hands.
"Don't you fucking MOVE!" he snarled, keeping the gun trained on Justin as he lowered a hand to the blade protruding from his back. Taking a deep breath, Jack pulled the knife out, wincing momentarily as he cast it aside.
"You little BITCH." Jack hissed, waving the gun angrily. "Fine. If I can't have you, I sure as hell won't let you go back to that rat-faced piece of shit."
"Go ahead." Justin shot back, looking around him. There was nothing large enough to protect him or give him cover. This really was the end. Strangely, he felt only relief at this.
"Go ahead, kill me!" the teen challenged. "I'd rather DIE than stay with you!"
Jack's lips pulled back in a hideous grimace. The leering face of Death. "Fine by me!" he replied, taking aim and pulling the hammer back.
The next few minutes seemed to stretch into an eternity. So much happened in such a short time, that those minutes would forever feel like they had taken much longer.
An inhuman shriek filled the air as the front door swung open. Justin's eyes widened as JC stepped into the warehouse.
Before Justin could make a sound, Jack turned the gun towards the other man.
Lance came through the door next. He saw Jack, turned to JC and screamed "GET DOWN!", launching himself at his bandmate.
Jack pulled the trigger. A shot sounded out, and the two collapsed in a heap on the cold cement floor.
Justin's mouth dropped open in a silent scream, and he watched helplessly as Jack limped over to the two. But no, he would never be helpless again. Scanning the area quickly, Justin found a mess of small iron pipes in the corner, covered with dust and cobwebs. As quietly as he could, he grabbed a sturdy one and stealthily moved towards Jack.
Jack, meanwhile, was busy studying the fallen teens. He could see some blood on the floor, so he had definitely hit one of them. But he couldn't tell if either had been killed; they just lay there, eyes shut, completely motionless.
"Better safe than sorry." Jack murmured, pointing the barrel of the gun at JC's head.
Just then, Justin swung the pipe, connecting solidly with the back of Jack's head. He staggered, and Justin brought his weapon down, sharply striking Jack's wrist. The gun clattered to the floor as Justin slashed one last time, catching Jack across the jaw. He went spinning to the ground, and Justin lunged for the discarded gun.
But suddenly Jack was there; bloody, battered, but he would not surrender. He grabbed at the pistol, feeling his fingers brush against metal but unable to take hold of it. Justin desperately reached further and was able to grab it.
The blonde immediately brought it to bear on Jack, but the older man was faster, straddling Justin's hips and latching onto his wrists, preventing Justin from getting a clear shot.
They remained locked in that position for a few seconds, but despite what he had just endured, Jack's strength was still superior to Justin's. Slowly, the barrel of the gun moved lower, lower, until Jack had positioned it under Justin's chin.
Jack smiled darkly as his index finger searched for the trigger. His onyx eyes met Justin's terrified blue ones, and suddenly the maniacal tint to Jack's features died out.
"Oh my God..." he whimpered. "What am I doing?"
They remained locked in another impossibly long second, and Jack saw in Justin's eyes the fear, the pain, and with that, the truth. A truth Jack resented and hated outright, but could never change. Their time had come and gone. They would never be together again.
That realization made Jack feel empty. Worthless. It was a feeling he knew he'd live with for the rest of his life.
Unless...
Ducking his head down, Jack pecked Justin's lips quickly, knowing what he had to do but needing the strength to do it.
Before Justin could realize what was happening, Jack reversed the gun, pressed the barrel to his chest and fired.
Three bullets, one after another, embedded themselves in Jack's chest. He fell backwards, tumbling off Justin, and the teen sat up with a scream. His face was burning, and he wanted to cry, but couldn't. Tears wouldn't come.
Crawling over to Jack, Justin pulled his former lover into his arms. Dark red liquid ran from his mouth, and the three blood stains on his shirt were quickly merging into one. But worst of all were those dark eyes: the fire that had warmed and burned Justin for so long was dying, and nothing could be done about it.
Those eyes scanned Justin's face again, and Jack smiled, very faintly. He signaled for his lover to come closer, and Justin obeyed, this one last time.
Raising his lips to Justin's ear, Jack whispered, in a voice half-gurgling with fluid: "You know... it's true... everything I do... I do it f-for..."
And just like that, he was gone. The fire died, snuffed out of existence, and Justin was alone, cradling a limp sack of flesh and bones that had once been a person, a part of his life.
Numbly, Justin lay the corpse on the ground and rose to his feet, examining the devastation around him. He looked at his hands, completely covered in blood. Jack's blood. He wanted to cry, scream, go mad with emotion, but he could feel only cold vacuum.
The world spun around him, and Justin gasped for breath, tearing at his shirt collar as Jack's black eyes, cold and empty, grew larger and larger in his mind.
"N-n... n..." the blonde tried to shout, but the eyes just kept getting bigger until finally, it became everything.
The void claimed him long before he hit the ground.
"FREEZE! POLICE!" Detective Andrews yelled as he burst into the warehouse. After a quick inspection revealed there was no immediate threat, he holstered his gun and motioned for the others to come in.
Collins entered next, followed by their four pop star escorts. The six grimly surveyed the devastation before them, and suddenly Christina's breath caught in her throat and she pointed.
The others followed her gaze and found JC Chasez splayed on the ground, Lance Bass lying on top of him. Neither of them seemed conscious, and blood was spattered around them.
"Check them out." Andrews hissed to his partner, scanning the rest of the dark warehouse very carefully. Collins dutifully headed over to the two and rolled Lance onto his back.
"Somebody better call an ambulance." Collins announced with a grimace. The kid had taken a bullet to the ribs. It didn't look too bad, but a gunshot wound was still a gunshot wound.
As Joey tended to his fallen bandmate, Collins turned to JC. Lifting the teen's shirt, the detective searched thoroughly, but found no gun-related injuries. The fall had probably knocked him out... he was already starting to come to.
A shriek caught his attention, and the detective turned to see Britney hiding her face in Chris' chest, sobbing. Collins' nose crinkled at what she had spotted; a dead body lay on the floor a few feet away. Collins got up and stood next to his partner, taking a long, hard look at the corpse. Eyes closed, mouth slightly parted in a tiny smile. Despite the three bullet holes in his torso, it looked like Jack Matthews had died a peaceful death.
"Justin..." a hoarse whisper punctured the silence, and everyone turned to see a barely-conscious JC crawling towards his husband, who was lying on the floor a few feet away from Matthews' body.
Collins reached Justin first and bent over the blonde, eyes clouded with worry. Justin's hands and face were bloody, but not from any wound he had sustained. What really concerned the detective was Justin's facial expression; his eyes were open, but unseeing, staring up at the ceiling. Collins waved his hand in front of Justin's face, but those crystal-blue orbs remained glazed and unresponsive.
Fearing the worst, the detective pressed his fingers against the teen's neck, but found a strong and steady pulse.
"Hey, kid. Snap out of it." Collins urged, gently slapping Justin.
"Just..." JC croaked weakly, laying his hand on Justin's chest. "Justin, come on... it's over..."
Collins narrowed his eyes and pinched Justin's shoulder as hard as he could. Nothing. Not even a twitch. Even unconscious, he would have reacted reflexively.
"Justin? Justin..." JC moaned, desperately shaking his husband.
But Justin Timberlake's empty stare remained on the ceiling, and the endless expanse of azure sky beyond.
The End
Afterword:
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Was it good for you? ;) Incredibly tacky, I know, but I'm in a good mood! LOL More is on the way! Next up in the "Intimate Stranger" series is an interlude called "Shattered", but be warned, I'm going to release this story as one solid piece, so I'll probably be out of the picture for a month or so. But a personal guarantee from me to every single one of you: I'll make it worth the wait. Don't you just LOVE me? :)