| ++ TEN ++ |
| JC drummed his fingers on the coffee table, unable to concentrate on the current episode of Jackass that played across Lance's big screen television. He picked up his beer and took a sip. "Lance? He's been up there for a while. Should one of us check on him?" Lance nodded, hopping to his feet. "I'll go." He stepped over Chris who was sprawled out on the floor giggling at Johnny Knoxville's antics. He climbed the steps, pausing as a tingle crept up his neck. He sensed trouble again, the same kind of trouble when Justin was out on the balcony. He touched his hand to his cross for guidance, praying he was just the victim of an overactive imagination. Steam wafted out from underneath his bathroom door and he moved toward it slowly. His feet were sluggish and he felt like he was moving in some kind of slow motion film effect. "Justin?" he croaked, rapping on the door with his knuckles. "J? You all right man? Everyone's waiting for you downstairs." Lance knew in his heart that Justin was not okay, that whatever scene lay on the opposite side of the door would scare him, give him nightmares for the rest of his life. The fine blonde hairs on his arm stood up causing goose bumps. "Justin, please answer me." His hand gripped the knob, but his muscles refused to turn it. Tears spilled down his cheeks, and he knew Justin had done something horrible. "God, Justin, please. Just say 'fuck off' or something. Anything, please..." His voice gave out on him, letting a terrified sob break through. He didn't want to open the door alone and see the damage Justin had done. Lance tried to muster enough power in his vocal chords to yell out, scream for Joey or Chris. His knees buckled slightly as his fingers gripped the doorknob tighter. "Hail Mary, full of grace..." he couldn't even finish the prayer. His chest constricted and he let his teeth clamp down on his lower lip hard, harder even, until a sharp pain ripped through the flesh and he tasted blood. His mind screamed at him to open the door. His body shook ferociously and he finally twisted the knob, barely able to push it open. Instinctively, his eyes closed as the steam floated out. When he opened them, it looked like heaven, all cloudy and bright. He waited for the puffs of steam to disippate. The scream caught deep inside of him, unable to make it's way out past the vomit that flew from his lips. His mind wouldn't allow him to comprehend fully what horror he saw before him, slumped on the marble, bright red pooled around the body. It was a movie, he reasoned. A bad movie that could be turned off or put on pause or ignored. His feet backed him out of the bathroom and he felt numb, unable to move forward or backward. Somewhere inside of him, he knew he needed to call 911, call for help, call Joey or someone who was sane enough to help that strange figure on his floor. That's how Joey found him, frozen in space with tears stained on his cheeks and vomit staining his jeans. Joey had taken over, pushing Lance to the bed and entering the bathroom. Joey had called 911 and yelled for JC and Chris. Joey had grabbed towels and put pressure on Justin's sliced wrists. Joey had given the paramedics Justin's history and state of mind information. Joey had done it all, including driving behind the ambulance to be with Justin. Lance sat in the middle of his bed, his mind scarred for a lifetime. Lance sat still with shallow breaths while JC tended to him. Lance pressed his lips together when Chris tried to give him some water. Lance tucked his feet under him when JC tried to put shoes on him so they could all go to the hospital with Justin. Lance let himself be carried out to Chris' SUV. Lance was doing nothing. Chris glanced in his rearview mirror. "C? He okay?" "Naw, man. He's out. Totally out." He shook Lance hard. "Lance! Goddamnit look at me." He passed his hand in front of the fixed green orbs and got nothing, not a blink, not a glimmer, nothing. "Fuck!" he shouted, clutching the seat as Chris took a sharp turn. They spotted Joey there already and Chris hopped out first. "Get his legs," he instructed. JC nodded, sliding out of the seat. He tucked Lance's feet under his arms and pulled. Chris slipped in. He placed his forearms under Lances and yanked him up. "Okay, go." A nurse spotted the scene and motioned for a gurney. "What's his deal?" she asked rushing over. The gurney was right behind her, and they deposited Lance on it. He immediately curled up. "I don't know," JC cried, letting his own terror escape. "Our friend cut himself and Lance here found him. Shock? Maybe he's in shock? I don't know. Christ!" He folded to the pavement as they rushed Lance inside. "Chris. God, Chris. I feel so sick." Chris nodded, assisting JC to his feet. "Come on. Let's go in." Joey met them inside the doors. "Justin's alive. He's got a weak pulse. I saw Lance go in." "He's in shock or some shit," Chris explained, hugging JC. "We have to call Justin's mom." "And Lance's mom," JC added weakly. "Lance's mom is right around the corner. Call Lance's mom. He'd want to see her." Chris stroked JC's back. "Joey's on it, C. You just sit down." Chris helped him to a seat and sniffled. They had to be all right. The two babies of N Sync, the two that had worked the hardest at growing up. He watched Joey standing at the pay phone and wondered what he was saying. He wondered what he could say to make their mother's not hurt so badly. He patted JC's head, understanding he had a much easier task. |