Disclaimer: This story involves homosexuality. Do not continue if this will offend you or violate local laws. By continuing, you are verifying under penalties of perjury that you are not a minor or in the company of a minor and are entitled to have access to sexually explicit material. The content and opinions expressed in this story do not imply anything with regards to the sexual preference of any member of *NSYNC or any other celebrities named herein.
Chapter Three - "With Eyes That Won't See Clearly"
Days passed, and my resolve had scarcely returned. I realized that I was trying to put up a brave front the night after the funeral--to get on with my life--because I genuinely knew that he would have wanted me to and because I knew that I needed to, for my own sanity. It was just easier said than done. Everyone who'd heard me talking big that night never mentioned it again. They knew I was just trying to deal, and in true supportive fashion, they all gave me the time and space I needed.
I found the girls in their room one night, curled up amidst clothes and stuffed animals they were in the process of packing up. They were flipping through old photo albums that I'd honestly forgotten we had. I placed my shoulder against the wall and listened to them talk about the good times when those pictures were taken. I just smiled as the memories came flooding back to me. I slid down the wall into the soft carpet of the hallway. Though my back was to them, I could hear the wistfulness in their voices, and I didn't need to see them to know that tears were flowing.
Considering everything they'd gone through in their lives, I suddenly realized exactly how remarkably well adjusted they were. I'd always known it on some level, as did everyone, but never the extent. I wished I was coping half as well as sobs tore through me. I felt a hand on my shoulder and looked up to see Tony's face. It was pained sympathy staring back at me. He placed an arm below my own and one under my knees as he lifted me against him like a limp rag doll.
"It's okay, Josh," he tried to soothe me. I smiled, hearing him call me that. There were very few people in this world outside of my family who called me that anymore, and those rare few I considered family. Tony had known me before I came up with JC to keep people from getting me and Ackerman confused. I let my head fall against his chest as he carried me into the bedroom. "I'm here for you, buddy."
A few hours later, I gradually returned to consciousness, momentarily forgetting the spiral of events that had rocked my world of late, especially when the bedcovers rested softly on my hip--the place Matt's hand always found its way to when we slept. It was one of those little soothing things that married couples do without thinking about it, and it pained me when I realized just how much I'd miss it.
When I forced my eyes open, I expected to find Tony, but instead, I saw Heather sitting in the rocker, reading a book. I was honestly a little disappointed not to find him still sitting with me, but when Heather smiled at me, I smiled back. "What are you reading?" I asked.
"Nate's last book," she answered, placing it on the end table beside her. Standing, she walked over to me, placing one leg beneath her as she sat on the bed next to me. She brushed her fingers through my hair. "How are you, big brother?"
"Destroyed," I replied honestly.
She didn't say anything. She just continued to stroke my hair and face. "I'd say I know' or I understand' if I thought I did, but I don't. I wish I did, but I don't."
"I know, sis, but I'm very glad you don't." With that, I sat up, turning away from her absentmindedly simply because it was the side of the bed I always got up from. An involuntary shudder rocked my spine, and I realized that I'd pulled my shirt off in my fitful sleep.
Heather started scratching my back like Mom had done for me when I was little and she had done as we got older. It was just one of those things they both knew always made me feel better. I arched my back like a cat in some subconscious way to make sure her fingernails reached the right spot. Heather and I had always been like this, even when we were small. Neither of us needed to say a word to the other to be comforting.
Tony appeared with a paper sack in his hand. Seeing that I wasn't wearing a shirt, he turned bashfully and apologized. I couldn't help but laugh as I told him to come in while I pulled a shirt over my head. Heather gave my shoulder a reassuring squeeze before leaving the room. I suddenly became very aware that they were taking turns staying with me. It wasn't really necessary, but I was glad they were. I couldn't face being alone right now.
"Brought you something," Tony smiled as he took a seat next to me. He opened the sack and withdrew a pint of mint chocolate chip ice cream. "I don't know if it's still your favorite, but I figured it was worth a shot."
"It is," I smiled, taking the plastic container and spoon from him. "Since this a thinly veiled attempt to get me to eat, I'll take a few bites."
"Thanks," he told me. "And you're right, it is. I'm just worried about you."
"I know," I commented. "There's a lot of people who feel that way, and I appreciate it, I really do."
"I just wish there was something else I could do to take some of the hurt away," he offered sympathetically.
"You're doing everything you can," I assured him, "and it helps."
He placed an arm around my shoulder, and I pivoted around to place my back against his chest. Looking over my shoulder, I offered him a spoonful of ice cream, knowing how much he hated mint. He made a face but took opened his mouth anyway, swallowing quickly. I just chuckled, replacing the lid on the ice cream and setting it in the floor beside me as I brought my hand up to give his arm a squeeze. "Thanks," I said simply.
He brought both arms tightly around me and placed his chin on my shoulder. "Anytime."
"I think I need to get out of bed now," I all but announced.
"May not be much of a plan, but it sounds like a good start," he smiled.
"I agree," Justin commented from the door. When I looked at him, he gave me that million-dollar smile. It was the one he had flashed for the camera thousands of times since I'd known him. It was also not the one he used when he meant it.
"Tony, would you mind checking on the girls for me?" I asked him. He wasn't sure what was going on, but he got the hint. He crawled out from behind me and vanished down the hallway, pausing just long enough to give Justin a pat on the shoulder. I could almost see Justin deliberating whether or not to pull away.
Justin finally came into the room when I motioned for him to. "Wanna give me a hand?" I smiled.
He seemed to visibly ease, offering a genuine smile. "What can I do to help?"
"Why don't you hand me the top drawer of the dresser?"
"The one with Matt's clothes?" he asked, honestly unsure as to whether or not he misunderstood.
"Yeah," I forced myself to smile.
Still fairly lost, he did as I asked, but when I also asked him to hand me the box marked goodwill, he just stood there dumbfounded. "Justin," I began, "what am I going to do with his clothes?"
"I thought you'd want to hang on to them," he answered, as though it should be obvious.
"Why?" I asked woefully as I took a sweater from the drawer.
Realizing the validity in my question, he shrugged his shoulders, defeated. "I guess I see your point," he admitted.
"Good," I smiled. "Explain it to me. Right now, every fiber of my being screams to hold onto everything he ever touched so I won't forget him."
"You'll never forget him," he cut in assuredly.
"I know," I smiled. "I also know that he and I had all of these conversations before. The kind of conversations most people don't have until they've been married thirty or forty years. Unfortunately, when you've had as many near-death experiences as he had, you realize just how little time you may have."
Without realizing it, I had emptied the drawer except for the shirt I held in my hands. It all hit me--all at once--right then. I was paralyzed. I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry. I wanted to hit something. I couldn't even move.
It took a second before Justin stopped in mid-sentence and noticed something was wrong. He took the shirt I was clutching against my face and placed it on the bed before placing his hands upon my shoulders. He pulled me tightly against him as the sobs finally came. I shook so violently that I started to heave. I tried to tear away to the bathroom, and when he realized what was happening, he simply followed alongside me, never once removing a sympathetic hand or caring touch from me. As I tried to vomit, all that came out of my mouth was a few bites of ice cream. Tears streamed off my cheeks as he wrapped his arm around me. He kissed my temple as I leaned back into his arms and we sat against the side of tub.
Wiping away a combination of tears, spit, and vomit from the corner of my mouth, I sniffed deeply and nodded. "I'm okay," I assured him, offering up a weak smile.
"No," he smiled, brushing the hair of my face, "but you will be. I promise."
"I know," I admitted.
"Morning," I heard as I felt soft lips press against mine. I looked over to see Matt lying next to me.
"Morning," I smiled back. "Is this a wake-up call or a booty call?"
He just grinned. "Whichever you prefer, sexy."
"Can we just lay in bed a while and talk?" I asked him.
"Anything you want," he smiled.
"Anything?" I asked.
"Anything," he replied.
My smile faded. "Don't go to work tonight."
"I have to," he reminded me solemnly.
"Isn't there anything I can do to get you to change your mind?" I pleaded.
He frowned, snuggling closer to me. "You know there's nothing I'd love better than to lie here next to you for the rest of our lives."
"Then do it," I begged. "Quit your job. You certainly don't need the money, and even if you did, I don't. I don't care, I'll throw it all away right now. Just please don't leave me."
He cupped the side of my face and used his thumb to push away some of my tears. "I have to. You know that."
"It's not fair," I cried.
He pressed his forehead against mine and rubbed his fingers into the back of my neck. "No, it's not. Not to you. I've lived on borrowed time for a very long time, and I made my peace with it a long time ago."
"What about me?"
"What about you?"
"Don't I get to make peace with it?" I asked, turning my head away to prevent more sobs from coming unbidden.
"Yes, you do," he smiled. "In your own time, and in your own way. That's part of why I'm here now."
"God," I sobbed, "it hurts so much."
"I know, Josh. I know. I wish there was something I could do to take away the pain."
"Then don't leave me," I begged again.
"I don't have a choice," he confessed.
"I know," I sighed. "I just feel so alone."
He stroked my cheek with the back of his hand. "You're not alone, baby. You have a world of people who care about you and love you."
"I know," I repeated, "but it's only been days, and I feel like you're slipping away."
He grasped my hand tightly. "I will always be a part of you," he sniffed. "Besides, I'm leaving you the two most important parts of me, and you made me a promise a long time ago to look out for them."
I couldn't help but smile. "A promise I fully intend to keep."
"Then get on with your life," he said simply.
"Easier said than done," I reminded him.
"The sun will keep rising," he smiled, leaning against me. Lying there, cheek to cheek, he brushed his fingers through the sparse dusting of hairs between my pecs. "The world will keep spinning."
"And I'll keep on living?" I asked.
"And loving," he smiled. "Your heart's too big--too good and too pure--to shut out everyone. I want you to go on with the business of living, and when love finds you again, I want you to throw yourself in it without a second thought or a moment's hesitation."
"I'll never get over you," I assured him.
A kiss on the lips, a moment of closing my eyes, and he was gone. Looking at the first light of dawn peering in through the window, I realized that my dream was over, and I was alone. As if in reply, a slight moan escaped Justin's lips as he turned towards me in his sleep, burying his face against my shoulder.
We sat that way for hours. He gave me that bleary-eyed look that I usually give people this time of the morning. "Hey," he croaked.
"Hey, yourself," I smiled back.
"Are you okay?" he asked, concern flooding his face.
"So-so," I answered with a hand gesture.
"What can I do?" he asked.
I pulled him into a hug. His strong arms wrapped around me tightly in response, and in my own, unspoken way, I told him that this was what he could do. More importantly, he was doing it. I patted his bare shoulder blade, and he sat up, allowing me to do the same. I gently pressed a hand against the small of his back, and he draped his legs over the side before standing.
Slinging my own legs over the opposite side of the bed, I pushed the palms of my hands into my eyes, stifling a yawn. When I finished, I started rubbing the sleep out of the corners of my eyes. I looked over to see Justin just watching me with a sympathetic smile. He was sliding his jeans over the boxers that had obviously ridden up on him at some point during the night when he lost his balance. I sprang to my feet in time to grasp his elbow. It wasn't enough to stop him from falling. In fact, it dragged me down with him, but it was more of a slide down the wall.
We started laughing uncontrollably. Sharp pangs clutched at my sides, and tears filled both of our eyes. We laughed until we were out of breath. Looking into Justin's eyes, I felt safe again. He placed a hand on the side of my face and leaned in to kiss me softly on the lips. It wasn't a romantic thing at all. It was just his way of reminding me how much he cared for me. I leaned forward, and he cradled me against him. I didn't want to leave his arms, this place, or this moment ever again.
"Another dream, I'm guessing," he said after a moment or two of silence.
"Yeah," I replied. "How do you always know that?"
"Just something different in the look on your face," he answered, pulling a sweatshirt over his head. "It's hard to explain."
I half-smiled to myself. "I guess it would be. Then again, nothing about us has ever been simple."
He tried to smile, but he couldn't do it. So I took his hand from the bedspread and stopped him halfway through making the bed. Pulling him to the mattress, I sat next to him. "Justin, what is it?"
"It's nothing," he forced himself to smile. A smile I knew too well. A smile I knew was fake.
"Justin, you know that doesn't work on me."
He almost laughed, realizing I was right. "I'm not sure how to ask something, because I'm not really sure what it is I'm trying to say."
"Direct and to the point tends to work best," I reminded him, pulling on the rest of my own clothes.
"Everyone just wants to know how you are, I guess," he finally managed, though I could tell that those were the words he'd settled on, because he seemed conflicted, even with those.
"Wondering if I'm gonna break?" I smiled.
"That's not what I . . . ."
"Relax, Justin. I think I understand. It's been a little while now, and everyone has gone above and beyond the call of duty to let me know that they're here for whatever I need and for as long as it takes. They just want to know how long that's going to be."
"No, Josh, that's not it. It's . . . ."
I held up a hand to stop him and smiled. "That came out sounding a lot worse than I intended. I understand Justin. I'm in a grieving process. It's a long one with no definite endpoint. Everyone just wants to know whether they can go back to their lives or if I need them around me physically."
He visibly winced. "That sounds horrible, but I guess, in a nutshell, that's it."
"It's okay," I told him again. "I'm just not having any better luck trying to say what it is that I'm thinking." I turned to push the curtains aside and look out the window. I absentmindedly rubbed the back of my neck with my other hand. He placed both hands on my shoulders and gently squeezed, kneading the tense muscles there. My head lolled backwards in relaxation, and he placed his cheek against my own. The stubble he was sporting tickled my skin, and I started to tell him he needed to shave. Realizing the somber mood we seemed to be wallowing in, I thought better of it.
"Tell them I'm okay," I finally smiled before correcting myself. "I will be. I know they have things they need to get back to. Joey has a daughter that needs him, and Chris and Lance have the gazillion things that they're always doing. Come to think of it, the vacation has probably done both of them some good."
I instantly caught a glare and the motion of Justin's mouth as he began to speak. "You know what I mean, Curly. I'm trying to make light so I don't lose what's left of my mind. Tell them it's okay for them to go. They're all just a phone call away--I know that. Besides, I'm gonna be busy with packing up the house. The girls are gonna stay a bit longer to help me and Kathy, and then we'll be California bound. It'll be a good time for just family."
His shoulders fell almost imperceptibly as he forced still another smile. "I'll clear everybody out tomorrow so we won't get in the way."
I stopped him as he started to turn. "Jus, you are family. More so than anyone else in this world. If you can spare the time, I could really use you beside me right now."
The light instantly returned to his eyes, and a quick nod was his answer. He shut the door behind him, and I looked around at the room. It was time to shut the door behind me as well, at least for a while.
TO BE CONTINUED
My thanks, as always, go out to everyone, but especially to my nearest and dearest. You all are what inspire me to write, to read, and to smile. To Joshua, my love always.
Feedback and criticisms are welcome at: camillusdelellis@yahoo.com
The song "Hanging on for Dear Life" was written by Jon Lind and Brock Walsh.