Obligatory warnings and disclaimers:
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If reading this is in any way illegal where you are or at your age, or you don't want to read about male/male relationships, go away. You shouldn't be here.
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I don't know any of the celebrities in this story, and this story in no way is meant to imply anything about their sexualities, personalities, or anything else. This is a work of pure fiction.
Questions and commentary can be sent to "writerboy69@hotmail.com". I enjoy constructive criticism, praise, and rational discussion. I do not enjoy flames, and will not tolerate them.
That said, on with Season 7.
Lance
When Jack said that Nick was here, that Nick was inside the same city, the same building, the same room as Justin, Lance's entire world imploded in terror. He'd felt everything around him shrinking like a collapsing star, folding in on itself and away, and he thought he would pass out right then, drop to the floor. When Jack snapped his fingers in front of Lance's face it had jerked the world back into focus, reminding him that Justin needed him, that Justin was his priority, his responsibility. Justin had been so bright when they got here, so happy and smiling, almost like his old self, and when he had quietly told Lance that he was going to the bathroom, Lance had watched and nodded, but hadn't thought to go with him. The ballroom was safe, it was full of their people, and Justin would be ok here.
But Justin wasn't ok. It wasn't safe here.
When they burst into the bathroom, Lance hardly noticed Nick at all, so focused was he on Justin. He saw Justin on the floor, heard the terror in his voice, not just fear but abject, heartrending terror, and felt everything inside him breaking. He had failed Justin. He had looked away for a minute, and let this happen, let Justin come face to face with his own private boogeyman. All of the improvements Justin had made, all of the slow, slow progress in rebuilding himself and slowly working his way back to the way he was, had all been done in the absence of Nick. Justin hadn't spoken to him, hadn't seen him in a magazine, heard him on the radio, or seen him on television. Justin saw Nick in his mind, and in his dreams, but hadn't seen him for real, face to face, close enough to him to touch him, to talk to him, or to do it again.
That's what Justin was most afraid of, what he'd confessed to Lance in the middle of the night, clutching him in the darkness. Justin was afraid that someday, somehow, Nick would come back.
"You son of a bitch!" Jack screamed, throwing himself across the bathroom, slamming into Nick. Nick seemed too surprised to move, and Jack tackled him to the floor, his hands fastened around Nick's neck as Nick's eyes bulged.
"Jack! Nick!" Kevin yelled, following them in. Chris shouldered him out of the way.
"Jack, let go!" Chris yelled, grabbing one of his arms.
Justin, still shrieking, scrabbled across the floor without looking at any of them, kicking and jerking himself along the floor in a lurching crawl that still seemed blindingly fast to Lance as Lance tried to step around Jack and Nick, not caring what Jack did to him. Justin bounced into a stall and kicked it closed behind him, his yelping No's becoming wordless noises of fear, his arms still wrapped around himself, one holding his head and the other fastened on the waist of his pants, holding them up. The last glimpse of him Lance had before the door slammed closed was Justin crawling as far back into the stall as possible, curling himself up into a tight, fetal ball.
"Fucking kill you!" Jack hissed, his hands so tight on Nick's throat that the tendons on the backs of them stood out in rigid relief. His teeth were gritted, his lips pulled back, and below him Nick's face was red, rapidly darkening to purple as his arms flailed ineffectually at Jack's.
"Stop it!" JC said, grabbing Jack's other arm. JC and Chris were both pulling at him, and Kevin grabbed his shoulders, but Jack would not be moved. "Jack, stop it! You'll kill him!"
"What did you do to him?" Jack yelled, bouncing Nick's head off of the tiled floor. Nick's eyes were rolling up in his head, and Lance thought quickly that being strangled on the bathroom floor at an MTV party was better than Nick deserved. "What did you do to him now?"
"Get the door," Joey said, pulling Chris away. Chris and Vlada, understanding, blocked the door so that no one else could come in, Vlada slipping outside to turn people away. Joey grabbed Jack's shoulders and jerked him away from Nick, manhandling him across the room as Jack fought against him. "Stop it, Jack!"
"Let go of me!" Jack yelled, fighting Joey.
"This isn't the place!" Joey said.
Lance pushed open the stall door, and Justin squeaked, pressing himself back against the wall, curling down into the smallest shape possible. Justin was actually trying to get behind the toilet, sobbing and shaking. Lance reached out for him, and Justin screamed, a loud, piercing sound that cut through the bathroom.
"Justin, Justin, it's Lance," Lance said, feeling tears run down his face. He had to help him. "Lance."
Justin made a noise, but one blue eye peeked around the edge of his arm, and then he grabbed Lance and buried his face against Lance's chest, pulling him into the stall. Justin's fingers dug painfully into Lance's sides, and Lance folded himself around Justin, holding him. Justin shook against him, his heart racing, hyperventilating, and Lance wondered if they might have to take him to the emergency room. The front of Lance's shirt was instantly wet, and Lance realized Justin was sobbing hysterically and struggling to breathe, as well as dripping with sweat.
"Jack, stop," JC said firmly, grabbing Jack's face. His eyes bored into Jack's, and whatever had taken Jack over drained out of him. "Stop."
Nick rolled over, pulling himself up on his hands and knees, coughing painfully.
"What the fuck is the matter with you?" Kevin demanded, looking around at all of them. "Jack? JC?"
JC held onto Jack, and Lance could see from the floor as he held Justin that Jack was shaking, either from adrenaline, emotion, or both. Joey stood near them, and Chris was still pressing his back against the door.
"Get him out of here, Kevin," JC said icily. "Get him out of here. Please."
"Not until you tell me what's going on," Kevin said, his dark eyebrows twisted together.
"No," Joey said bluntly, jerking Nick to his feet by the back of his shirt. He shoved Nick toward Kevin, who caught him. Nick was still coughing. "Take him away, Kevin."
"Joey, I," Nick croaked, and he was cut off when Joey's fist smacked into his face, rocking his head back.
"Shut up!" Joey screamed, spittle flying from his mouth. He grabbed Nick's collar and jerked him up close to him. "Get the fuck out of here right now, or I'll kill you."
"Get away from him," Kevin said, shoving Joey away.
"Kevin, please, get him out of here," Jack said quietly.
"Let's go," Nick choked, glaring at Jack. Everyone glared back at him, except for Justin, who still sobbed and keened helplessly as Lance rocked him.
"Nick," Kevin began, but Nick shook his head. Handprints stood out vividly on his neck in bright red relief, so stark in the fluorescent light that Lance could see the line of Jack's wedding bands on Nick's skin, and there was a red mark around his eye where Joey had just punched him. Kevin gave them all a confused last glance as he led Nick through the door, Chris glaring at Nick as if he wanted to bite him. Lance thought of the bite on Justin's shoulder, healed now but leaving a ring of scar tissue, and shuddered. Nick looked back like he wanted to say something, but he just turned away, and they all turned back to the bathroom stall as the door to the ballroom closed.
"Justin," Lance said, holding him tightly. "Justin, he's gone. He's not here anymore, he's gone."
Justin just sobbed against him, muttering and trying to talk. Lance tried to ease him out of the stall, and Justin fought, clinging to him, the toilet pressing into Lance's back as Justin's face dug almost painfully into his chest. JC leaned into the stall, reaching out to touch Justin's shoulder, probably about to say something soothing, but Justin yelped and pulled away, and Lance shook his head.
"Don't," Lance said quietly. "Don't touch him, JC, please."
"He touched me," Justin whispered quietly. They were all silent. "Lance, he touched me. He was here, he was here, and he, he put, put his hand on my, he touched my shoulder. He touched me."
"He's gone now," Lance said, rocking back and forth. Jack wiped at his eyes, turning away from them. "He's gone. You're safe. Kevin took him away, and he's gone, Justin. He can't touch you."
"I didn't want him to," Justin whimpered. "I didn't. I didn't want him to."
Lance couldn't tell if Justin meant tonight, if he meant before, or if he meant both.
"It's ok, Justin," Lance whispered, rubbing the back of Justin's head. "It's ok. I want to take you back to the hotel, ok?"
"No!" Justin said sharply, jerking against Lance. "No! No, he's here! He's out there, and he'll, he'll find me, and he'll hold me down, and."
"No, Justin, no," Lance said, still holding his tightly. Justin's voice was cracking with fear, and he still hadn't lifted his face from Lance's chest. "Justin, he's gone. He can't hurt you anymore. I won't let him, Justin."
"He touched me," Justin whimpered again, and then just continued to cry against Lance. Lance held onto him, making shhhh-ing noises, and tried to calm him down. The other guys looked away, huddling at the other end of the bathroom. They were whispering, but Lance could still hear them.
"We have to get him out of here," Jack said, staring at his hands. The expression on his face was hard to read, but he definitely didn't look guilty. "Vlada's not going to be able to keep people away from the bathroom forever."
"How?" JC asked. "We can't even get him out of the stall. I mean, I'm sure Lance can, but we don't have time."
"Go talk to him," Jack whispered, staring at JC.
"What makes you think I'll do any better than Lance?" JC asked, shaking his head.
"You know why," Jack said sharply. The two of them locked eyes, and Lance could feel the tension between them. What was between JC and Justin, and Jack, was one of the great unspoken topics among the rest of them. "Josh, please. He might listen to you."
JC nodded, and walked back over to the stall, dropping to his knees.
"Justin? Curly? It's Josh," he said, swallowing. Lance felt Justin pause, calming a little, and pushed away the surge of resentment that bubbled up in him. He was the one who cared about Justin, and Justin still dropped everything for JC, who could play him like a puppet on a stage with his slightest whim. No, that was stupid. They all cared about Justin, all wanted to help him. "We want to take you back to the hotel, Justin, where it's safe. We can't stay here, can't stay in the bathroom. He's gone, Kevin took him away, but we want to take you away, too. Will you let us take you away? Please?"
"No," Justin answered finally, still clutching Lance. Lance felt a surge of triumph, as inappropriate as his previous spike of jealousy, and wondered what was wrong with him. "I can't."
"Yes you can," Joey said firmly from behind them. JC slid out of the way, thinking maybe that Joey could help, and Lance curled his arms protectively around Justin as Joey dropped to his knees. "Justin, if you don't get up, right now, and walk out with us, everyone out there will know."
Chris's eyes went wide, and Jack sucked in a sharp breath. JC stared at Joey like he didn't know who he was, but Justin stopped shaking, sitting still.
"Is that what you want, Justin?" Joey asked harshly.
"Leave him alone!" Lance hissed. He couldn't believe Joey would do this to Justin, would hurt him and betray him like this.
"I'm not talking to you, Lance," Joey said. "Justin, do you want everyone to know what happened, what Nick did to you?"
Justin jerked at the sound of Nick's name. No one else had used it.
"No," Justin whispered.
"Yes, Justin," Joey said. "If you don't get up right now, and wash off your face, and walk out of here with us, everyone will know. Everyone in that room will know what happened to you unless you can be Justin."
"No," Justin said again, more firmly this time. He looked up into Joey's hard eyes, and wiped at his own with his hand as he began to unfold himself from Lance's grip.
"Come on," JC said, taking Justin's hand, still staring at Joey as if he couldn't believe it. "Let's go wash your face."
Justin allowed JC to walk him slowly away from the stall, and Jack leaned out of the bathroom door to tell Vlada it was ok, and that they'd be right out.
"No, no, it's nothing," they heard Jack telling someone. Jack thought he was a bad actor sometimes, but he sounded damn convincing to them. "Justin isn't feeling well, and we're going to take him home, that's all. It's nothing. We'll be out in just a second."
Over at the sinks, JC had cupped his hands together, and Justin was drinking from them. Lance stood, leaning toward Joey, almost lunging.
"How could you do that to him?" Lance hissed.
"You think I wanted to?" Joey asked. "Someone had to be the bad guy."
"And of course it had to be you!" Lance said, his hands curling into fists. He wanted to hit Joey, wanted to hit him right in the teeth, over and over. Images flashed through his mind, Joey sinking to the floor, Lance standing over him, fists clenched. Lance wanted to give Joey some correction. Chris grabbed his wrist.
"Lance," Chris said, distracting him. "Go help Justin. He needs you."
Lance nodded and stepped away. He didn't look at Joey, didn't want to see him, and Joey turned away, holding a hand over his eyes. Chris put a hand on Joey's shoulder, and Joey shrugged it off. He didn't want to see any of them, and didn't want their comfort, not after what he'd just done. Someone had to be the bad guy, had to push Justin into pulling it together, but he still felt like shit, and he didn't want to see the way the rest of them looked at him. Lance walked over to Justin, who was standing still, letting JC blot at his face with a wet paper towel, and Justin hugged Lance tightly.
"Can we go?" Justin whispered.
"Yes," Lance answered, holding him, as Justin rested his head on Lance's shoulder. He was still shaking, but he looked a lot more together. "We're going to walk out, Justin, and a lot of people are going to be looking, but I don't want you to see them, ok? Just keep your head down, and we'll take you right to the elevator, ok?"
"OK," Justin said, gripping Lance's hand.
Chris looked at their linked hands and thought about saying something, but instead he bit it back. Justin needed Lance more than they needed to worry about how things looked. Jack and JC linked arms, leaning naturally into each other and squelching the tension between them, and Lance and Justin fell in behind them, Chris and Vlada sliding into place on either side as they all stepped out of the bathroom. Joey took the rear, walking quietly behind. Just before they stepped back into the ballroom, Justin looked back at Joey, their eyes meeting, but his expression was unreadable.
As Lance had planned, they moved straight for the elevators, aided by the MTV staff, who had bought Jack's story about Justin feeling sick. On all sides they nodded and said good night to people, smiling their concerned friend smiles, deflecting questions, and Justin kept his head down the entire way, squeezing Lance's hand tightly, flinching a little each time someone called his name. Lance thought idly that it was probably a good thing Justin still looked so pale and sweaty, as it would just lend more credibility to the story. When they were finally all in the elevator, everyone breathed a sigh of relief, and Justin leaned on Lance, his eyes still down.
The ride back to the hotel was completely silent. Jack and JC sat holding hands, but they were looking out the window, not at each other. Joey sat as far from everyone else as possible, also watching the streets go by. Chris held Vlada against him, his eyes ticking over everyone else in the car as if he were trying to figure out who he should help first. Justin slid down in the seat a little, laying his head on Lance's chest, and Lance held onto him, running one hand over and over his hair and rubbing the other in circles around his back. It was the best move for comforting Justin for some reason. It always calmed him. When they finally pulled in, they all piled into one elevator, and then all followed Lance and Justin to their suite, waiting as Lance fumbled out the key card. Vlada kissed Chris on the cheek.
"Ees private," she said, hugging him. "I vill go. Good night, everyvun. Good night, Yustin."
Justin nodded in her direction, still clinging to Lance, and Lance pulled the door open. The others hovered at the threshold, unsure of whether they should invite themselves in.
"Do you want us?" Chris asked finally, and Justin nodded, so Lance did as well as he walked Justin into the bedroom. Josh and Jack, still holding hands, followed them, as did Chris, but when Joey walked in, Lance glared.
"Not you," he said quietly, his voice steel, laying Justin down on his side. Nobody said anything, and Joey, looking down, turned and walked out. Jack watched him go. Lance looked down at Justin, lying with his eyes closed, and smoothed the hair over his forehead again. "I'm going to take your shoes off, ok?"
Justin nodded, and Chris leaned down.
"Justin?" Chris asked quietly, keeping a little distance in case Justin opened his eyes. "Can we get you anything? Do you need anything?"
"I just wanted to go to the bathroom," Justin whispered, his eyes still closed. "I thought it would be ok. We were having a good time, and Lance was talking to someone, and he was smiling. Lance doesn't smile enough anymore, and I didn't want him to stop, so I thought I would go to the bathroom."
"I'm sorry, Justin," Lance said, his breath catching. Why did Justin keep doing things for him when he should have been thinking about himself? Justin reached out blindly, and Lance took his hands, kneeling by the bed.
"No, I thought it was ok," Justin said. "I went pee, and I thought it was ok. I thought I was safe, and I went to the sink to wash my hands, and I was, I was looking into the sink, and I heard the bathroom door open, and I thought it was ok, and then he said my name."
Tears were starting to slide from between Justin's closed eyes, and his hands tightened on Lance's.
"I thought, I thought it was someone else," Justin whispered. "I didn't think it was real. I forgot what he sounds like. I forgot the way he used to say it, the way it sounded in his mouth, but it was him. I looked up, and he was in the mirror, and I thought, I still thought it wasn't real. I thought it couldn't be, that he wasn't really there, because he couldn't be, because I was safe, and then he, then he touched my, he put his hand on my shoulder. He touched me, and it was real. It was real."
"Justin, did he, um, did he hurt you, again?" JC asked. "Did he do something to you?"
Justin shook his head, unable to answer, and pulled on Lance's hands tightly.
"It's ok," Lance soothed. "It's ok, he's not here now."
"He was there," Justin repeated. "He was there, and it was real."
"I know, Justin, I know," Lance said, sitting on the bed now. He rubbed Justin's back with his hand, letting Justin hold the other one. "You're safe now, and I'm here. We're all here."
"Justin?" Jack asked, leaning in. "Do you want me to go get Junior? Do you want him to sleep over here tonight? Would that make you feel better?"
"Yes, please," Justin answered, still not opening his eyes. He was crying softly, tears just flowing out, and so pale that Lance was a little worried.
"We'll be right back, ok?" Jack asked, and Justin nodded. Lance smiled gratefully at Jack, knowing that Junior being here would give Justin something to hold onto. Jack walked toward the door, and JC wordlessly followed.
Jack
I wasn't sure how I felt as I walked out of Justin and Lance's suite, because there didn't really seem to be one term that could cover it. I felt raw, everything inside me laid open, and also exhausted. My hands actually hurt from squeezing Nick's neck, but I didn't clearly remember it. I remembered us walking into the bathroom and seeing him, and then I remember being on top of him on the floor as the others pulled me off. In between there was just a red cloud of rage, a place I didn't think I'd ever entered before, and I hadn't left it, not completely, until Josh was holding my face in his hands, and I was staring into his blue eyes, my calm, my center. I could see that he was as angry as I was, but Josh dealt with his anger in different ways. I'd only ever seen him turn physical once, and that had been under extreme duress.
"Jack?" Josh said quietly from behind me, putting a hand on my shoulder. I opened the suite door, and we stepped inside, Junior running toward us as I turned and Josh and I hugged, resting our heads on each other's shoulders.
"Are you all right?" I asked, holding him, smelling his hair and his neck. It was fresh and clean, sort of musky, mixed with the cologne he always wore, and the smells of his shampoos.
"I think so," he said. "Are you?"
"My hands hurt," I answered, stepping away from him. I was upset about something else, too, several things, actually, but Josh knew what at least one of them was. I knelt down and petted Junior's head as Josh stood in the darkness, not turning on the lights.
"I love Justin, Jack," Josh said finally. "I'm not going to apologize for it. He's my brother, and my friend, and I love him. I love you, too, with my heart and soul, but he's always going to be special to me, Jack. He's always going to have a place in my heart."
"I know," I said quietly. Justin was Josh's first love. You couldn't measure Josh's love, couldn't say that he loved me more, but it was safe to say that he loved me more completely, and when Josh had a choice, he had made it, and that was part of what put us where we were now. There was room in his heart for both of us, but it was hard sometimes to see them both and to feel their connection. Josh was happy with me, and someday Justin would be happy, too, but the two of them would always be joined, and I accepted that. "I didn't ask you to apologize."
"I know," he said. "But what you said, in the bathroom, I know it hurt you."
"I said it for a reason," I said, still petting the dog. "He's still in love with you, Josh. Maybe it's not the same way that it was, but he still loves you as much as you love him, maybe more."
"And it doesn't do him a damn bit of good," Josh said bitterly. He dropped down next to me, petting Junior, too, and his hand slid over mine. Josh actually felt guilty for not loving Justin back the same way, for not loving Justin the way that he loved me, but that was Josh's way. He took the blame for everyone around him, even as he tried to comfort us.
"Josh, is there anything I can do?" I asked, taking his hand. I brushed my other hand over his cheek, and he nuzzled his face against my palm. "I know this hurts you, Josh, and you know it hurts me, too. I love Justin. I haven't always liked him, but I love him, and all of the rest of them, too. What can I do to help you?"
"Love me," Josh answered, squeezing me tightly. "Love me, and tell me everything'll be ok."
I held him in the darkness of our suite, not knowing what else I could do. Since I'd been kidnapped, it seemed like all I did was cry, and lean on Josh. It had been so long since he'd needed to lean on me, since he had been anything other than my rock, that I'd almost forgotten what it was like. I realized that he was crying against me, and I held him to my chest, telling him that I loved him and that everything would be ok. After a minute or two he got himself under control again, still holding on to me, and I kissed him on the forehead. This was taking such a toll on all of us, and I wondered when and how it would end.
"Come on," Josh said, kissing my forehead as well. "Let's get Junior over there. Justin needs him."
"I know," I said, grabbing Junior's little pet bed. We carried it back and forth from room to room when we shuttled Junior back and forth, so that he wouldn't be disoriented. I wondered if he knew, somewhere in his tiny doggy mind, that he didn't lead anything resembling an ordinary canine existence. "Do you have him?"
"Yeah," Josh answered, picking Junior up. "Jack? I love you."
"I know," I answered, smiling at him in the darkness. I knew he couldn't see it, but he knew it was there. "I love you, too."
We walked back to Justin and Lance's room, tapping at the door, and Chris let us inside. We looked past him to the bedroom, and saw Lance and Justin on the bed. Lance was sitting up, his back in a pile of pillows against the headboard, and Justin was lying on his side with his head in Lance's lap. Justin's eyes were still closed, but not squeezed shut, and he held one of Lance's hands in both of his as Lance stroked his hair with the other. Lance looked up at us, unable to smile, his face tired, and he whispered something to Justin, probably telling him who we were.
"Justin?" Josh asked. "We brought Junior over. Do you want to hold him?"
"Yes, please," Justin answered. His voice sounded softly hollow, completely empty, as if there wasn't anything left inside him. He had lost the outer shirt while we were gone, and was in his pants, socks, and the baby blue tank top, looking very young. Josh set Junior down on the bed, and Justin reached out for him. Junior, as if knowing what was needed, curled up against him, pressed against Justin's abdomen, and Justin began to cry softly again, tears trickling down from his closed eyes as his hands curled around Junior. Chris pulled Josh and I into the suite room.
"Lance gave him a sleeping pill while you were gone," Chris whispered. "We're just waiting for it to kick in."
"A sleeping pill?" Josh asked, almost forgetting to whisper. Josh rarely drank, and felt even more strongly about drugs.
"They're from his doctor," Chris whispered. "I didn't know, either. He doesn't take them hardly ever, and Lance keeps the bottle, so that there aren't any accidents."
Josh sighed, wiping at his eyes, and I hugged him again. The idea of Justin having an "accident" with the sleeping pills chilled me, and I knew it would scare the hell out of Josh, too. Chris only said it because he never sugarcoated things with us, but I could tell from his face that he wanted to go take the bottle and lock it in the safe. Josh was scared, but he wouldn't break down in here, not in front of Justin. Justin needed him to be strong. Justin and Lance weren't the only ones who needed help, though.
"Josh, do you want to stay here until he falls asleep?" I asked, still whispering.
"Where are you going?" he asked, brushing his fingers over my cheek, staring at me with his deep blue eyes.
"I want to go check on Joey," I said, a chill shooting down my spine as I realized how familiar this sounded. Every time I went to check on one of the guys alone I found them in some terrible distress. Chris must have thought the same thing, because he touched my shoulder.
"I'll go with you," he said, and I nodded.
"OK," Josh said, hugging me again. "I'll stay here until you come back."
Chris and I stopped in the bedroom to say goodnight to Justin and Lance, and then we left, heading for Joey's room.
To be continued.