It isn't the first time that a girl jumps on stage in the middle of a concert. It isn't even the first time that a girl heads for someone other than Justin -- in this case, JC.
It is the first time that one of them has a gun.
There's a split second where everything seems to freeze in a moment of utter clarity, and then everything's a blur. The screams of adoration rise to a pitch of terror, the bodyguards close in, and JC feels a crushing force drive him to the stage just as he hears a gunshot.
For an instant he thinks he's been shot, waits to feel the agonizing pain, but he doesn't, he just can't breathe. Then realizes that it's because Justin is lying on top of him, that Justin had made a flying tackle from where he stood on the stage. He has a feeling the sick look of fear on Justin's face is pretty much mirrored on his own.
Miraculously, no one is hurt. They huddle backstage, security in a tight ring around them, while the police take the girl away. Johnny is on the phone, telling them to get the hell out of the venue and on the bus. They look at each other, and they reach the agreement together.
"We gotta go back out," JC says. "Let the fans see that we're okay." Everyone nods.
Just before they go out again, JC grabs Justin's arm. "That was... wow, man. You coulda saved my life." Security has told them that the shot went into the air when the girl was brought down, that it never came anywhere near hitting someone, but there's no way Justin could have known that at the time.
Justin doesn't even remember doing it, has no memory of anything that happened between the time he saw the gun pointing at JC and when he discovered he was lying on top of JC on the stage. "It was... No big deal, C." The look in JC's eyes insists that it's a big deal, a very big deal. Maybe it is. They hug, tight. "I know you'd do the same for me," Justin whispers.
They finish the show. Maybe it's not the best they've ever performed, but they're out there, and that's what's important.
Back on the bus, there's a conference call with management, discussions about venue security and crowd control. They agree not to cancel any shows, to keep up with the tour. It was a fluke. No one got hurt. It will never happen again.
They stop in the hotel to sign autographs, like they always do. Justin keeps an eye on JC, watching to see if he's nervous around the crowd. He seems okay, assuring lots of fans that he's just fine, that yes, it was scary, but he's glad that no one got hurt, that he hopes that the girl gets help.
No one really feels like going out tonight, so they huddle on the bed in Chris' room, watching some movie off the pay per view menu. They don't really talk about it, they just sit there together, close. Every now and then someone will reach out and pat an arm or a head or a leg, as if to make sure that everyone is really there.
They all hug a lot before they split up for the night. It was scary, but they're okay.
An hour later, JC wakes up screaming.
He's sitting there shaking when the pounding on the door starts, and it scares him even more. Then he hears Lonnie's voice shouting, and realizes it's security. He moves to open the door, knowing that if he doesn't, they'll break it down to get to him. When he swings it open he sees most of their security team outside, and most of the doors on the floor open, people peering out at him.
"It was just a nightmare," he says, feeling foolish. "I'm okay. I'm sorry."
They sweep the room before they'll let him go back in, and he stands in the hallway, shivering a little in his boxers and t-shirt. Joey comes up behind him and rubs his arms, whispering soothingly in his ear, "It's okay, C. Anyone would be a little shaken up. Don't worry about it."
And he doesn't worry about it much, because he knows that they all love him, and that they all understand. So he climbs back into bed and goes to sleep, and figures he just needed to get the stress out of his system.
An hour later he's awake again, screaming so hard it hurts.
He stumbles to the door before the pounding can really start, telling them that he's fine. Just another nightmare. Lonnie asks him if they want him to get anyone, and he shakes his head. No, he'll be fine.
He turns on the television, not really caring what's on, just wanting some noise to break the silence. Pulls out his notebook and curls up in a chair. Hopes that morning gets here soon.
It's a day when they have an early departure, and JC is glad for that, because it gives him less hours to fill in the middle of the night. He's tired, his eyelids drooping closed more than once, but every time he jerks himself awake, afraid to find himself back in the nightmare he can't remember.
He feels all the eyes on him as they stumble out to the buses in the grey dawn, and he tries to act as if everything is okay, tries to put a jaunty bounce in his step. It's hard to fool the people you live with, though, and he knows that they're telegraphing looks of concern to each other over his head and behind his back.
He thinks it'll be better on the bus, that the hotel room was a strange place, strange bed, but that his bunk is the closest thing he has to his 'own' bed anywhere. He's spent more time sleeping in it than he has in any of the places he's lived for the past few years. Once he gets there he'll be fine.
He hopes.
Chris and Justin don't say anything to him, just look at him with identical expressions of concern. "Gonna sleep," he mutters, and stumbles back to his bunk. He's asleep before the bus pulls out.
And then he's awake, throat aching, with Justin standing over him looking terrified.
"It's just... nightmare," he says, avoiding Justin's eyes, and getting up to use the bathroom. Justin is waiting when he comes out. "I'll be okay, J."
He goes up to the front to get some coffee, finds Chris staring at him, worried. "What are the nightmares about, C? The girl?"
He tries to pretend it's the movement of the bus that makes the coffee slop over the side of the mug, not his hands shaking. "I guess. I don't really remember." And he doesn't, he just knows that whatever he's dreaming must be so terrible that he has to wake himself up to get out of it.
It's probably the longest he's ever been on the bus and stayed awake, because there's something about the sound of the engine humming and the soft rocking motion that always put him right out. He was one of those babies who would fall asleep as soon as he was in his car seat. His dad used to drive him around the block when he was having trouble sleeping.
Today he's awake, and he mostly just sits on the couch and stares out the window, or watches Justin and Chris play video games and pretend not to watch him. He dozes off once, and when he wakes up in terror Chris is shaking him. For a second he thinks Chris looks worse off than he probably does, then decides he's probably wrong. After that he makes sure to stay awake.
Everything seems muted at soundcheck. He's just so tired. Joey sticks by his side, rubbing his back, pulling him into soft, comforting hugs. Joey mothers everyone, and right now JC craves that.
Once they're on stage he's okay, the energy rushing through him. He comes alive when he performs. He can feel everyone relax around him, as he jumps and bounces his way through the show. He's on tonight, dancing sharp, performance electric, even the touch of hoarseness in his voice just adding a sexy rasp to every thing he sings.
He doesn't worry about the fans, touches their hands on the catwalk the way he always does, doesn't even think about it when they get to the part of 'No Strings Attached' where the girl jumped on stage the other night.
They go out that night, JC insisting that he's fine, he wants to come. They go to a club that's packed with people and noise and activity, which is just what JC wants. He dances, and drinks, and dances some more. He thinks he has them all fooled, except when he catches Justin watching him from the corner of his eye.
"I'm fine," JC tells him, wondering how many times he's repeated that phrase in the past twenty-four hours. Wondering when he'll actually mean it again.
For once he's not the one who pleads tiredness, who says that they've been out too late and that it's time to go back. He'll stay and dance 'til dawn if they'll let him. But finally everyone has had enough and they pile back into the limo to go back to the hotel.
They're off the next day until concert time, not bothering with sound check on the second day in the same venue. That means he can sleep late, can catch up on all the sleep he's missed, that his body craves. He looks at the big bed in the hotel room, and can't hold back a shudder of revulsion. Thinks about waking up screaming again, the pounding on the door, the way everyone will look at him.
He sits up all night, watching the sky change from black to grey to blue. He slips out early, apologizing to the security guard who assures him it's no big deal, going to a Starbucks and drinking down a large jolt of caffeine and sugar, killing time until the museum opens.
The others tease him about this sometimes, his museum trips. He can't really explain to them why he likes it so much, why the colors and textures and light call to some part of him that music can't quite reach. Today, though, it's just a place to be, and it all passes by his eyes in a meaningless whirl. It's just someplace to be where no one is worried about him, and he doesn't have to tell them that he's fine.
He tries to slip into the venue unobtrusively, not wanting to see the guys until he's been to makeup, when he can emerge without dark circles under his eyes and with a cosmetically-applied healthy glow to his skin. Justin sees him, though, and he wonders if he was lying in wait.
"Where were you today?" he demands.
"You know. Museum." He avoids Justin's eyes as they walk through the corridor.
"Jace..." Justin grabs JC's arm, forcing him to turn and look at him, and gasps at what he sees. JC hasn't looked in a mirror. He doesn't really want to. "Jesus." Justin's hand traces the sharp line of JC's cheekbone. "When was the last time you slept?"
He wants to lie, but what's the point, really? "Yesterday. On the bus." He sees the alarmed look on Justin's face. "I'll sleep tonight. I promise."
Justin wants to say something, he can tell, but he holds his tongue. "Okay. Are you gonna make it through the show?"
"Of course. Don't be silly. I'm just a little tired."
A little tired? He almost laughs at himself. He feels like every bone in his body is made of lead, like he's weighted down and can't move. He doesn't know how he's going to sing and dance tonight, but somehow he will. He has to.
In the quiet room he just sits in a corner of the couch, trying to focus himself. Lance sits with him for a while, not saying anything. The others pretend not to watch him.
On stage, he's a mess. His timing is off, his vocals are jagged, and he feels like every dance move is a step behind where it's supposed to be. It's not until 'It's Gonna Be Me' that he feels it happen, feels the performance take over. He can tell he's gotten into the groove by the way the others react around him, but he still feels apart from all of it, like he's watching it through a hazy pane of glass.
But the adrenaline only lasts as long as the show does, and walking off stage, he feels it leave him so fast it makes his head spin, makes the room tilt crazily. Joey catches him before he can hit the ground, sweeping him into his arms like they're in some old movie. Joey, big and strong and comforting, with eyes that look so scared, carries him all the way to the bus.
They all crowd around him after Joey lays him on the big couch, saying things he can't quite understand. He isn't sure if they're talking to him or each other. "Guys, it's okay," he finally croaks out. "I really don't think that I'll have a problem falling asleep now." He can barely lift his head.
Justin pulls them away, more conversation he can't hear. Joey and Lance leave to go to their own bus, stopping to give him a hug before they leave. "It'll be all right, darlin'," Lance tells him in that soft drawl, and JC wants to believe him so bad he can taste it.
Justin brings him a blanket, and Chris hovers around him nervously. Chris doesn't deal well with this, with hurt or sickness. He needs for them to all be okay, or it's too much for him to handle, and he just shuts down. JC wants to tell Chris again that he's fine, but he's too tired. They turn out the lights in the front and go back to their own bunks, leaving him alone.
He closes his eyes, but nothing happens. Sleep doesn't come the way it's supposed to. He's too tense, too afraid of not sleeping. He stares at the ceiling of the bus, tracing the lines and contours, watching the flashes from passing lights. They go by in a rhythm that's almost hypnotic, and it finally lulls him to sleep.
Until 30 minutes later when he's sitting straight up, screaming his vocal cords bloody.
Justin grabs him, holds him, saying over and over again, "Jace, it's okay, you're okay, stop screaming." Chris is huddled in a corner, looking at him with wide eyes.
"I'm..." fine, JC starts to say, then stops, knowing it's a completely transparent lie. "I'm sorry."
Justin shakes his head, getting up and grabbing his cell phone. "Enough of this shit," he mutters, tense and angry. He's not angry at JC, though, he's angry that his friend is falling apart in front of his eyes, and he can't do anything to stop it. Justin talks in sharp guttural spurts, and JC finally hears. "Well, then stop the fucking buses already."
The buses stop, and the tour doctor climbs on. "So, what seems to be the problem?" he asks, sounding so cheery that JC would have hit him if he had the energy to lift his arm.
They explain, the two of them, Justin taking over when JC just can't form the words. That he's having nightmares, that he hasn't slept for days, that when he does sleep he just wakes up again. The doctor peers in his eyes, and listens to his breathing and his heart, and diagnoses insomnia. No shit, JC thinks, but doesn't say it.
"We'll just give you a little something to make you sleep, and everything will be fine," the doctor tells him, and JC takes some comfort in that until he sees the needle. His whimper is involuntary. He wonders fleetingly if maybe when the gun went off at the concert if it really did hit him, if he died, and this is hell, a place with no sleep and sharp needles. But Justin is there, letting him bury his head against his shoulder, and they'd never let him have Justin to take care of him in hell.
Justin usually teases him about his fear of needles, chiding him when they have to be inoculated to go perform overseas, showing off his tattoos and bragging about how long it took, how much it hurt. Tonight he just strokes his hair and holds him tight, and says it'll all be over in a second, it's just a tiny needle, and think how much better he'll feel once he gets some sleep. He lets the soothing words wrap around him like a warm bath, and barely feels the pinprick when it comes.
"He'll be out for at least eight hours," the doctor tells them, already sounding very far away to JC. "Just let him wake up naturally. Try not to disturb him."
It's like being dragged down a dark hole, falling and falling and falling. JC lets the drug take him, welcomes the oblivion with open arms. He just wants to sleep.
The drug keeps him asleep when the nightmare takes over, and JC thrashes against it, fighting, unable to wake up. It goes on and on and on, until he's awake again, the screams muffled because now he's losing his voice. And Justin is there again, shaking and holding him. JC feels tears on his neck and thinks, oh shit, I made Justin cry, Chris is going to kill me. But Chris looks like he just wants to burst into tears also.
Justin is on the phone again, yelling. "I don't care what you said, it's been two hours and he's awake again. You've got to do something!" When the call ends he slams the phone against the wall in frustration. "He says that there's no way you can possibly be awake. Where the hell did he go to medical school?" He kneels in front of JC, making his voice low and soothing. "He says he can't give you anything else, it's too dangerous. I'm sorry, Jace. I don't know what else to do."
"Don't make me sleep. Please," JC whispers brokenly, and then he's the one sobbing, crying hysterically, so god damn tired he can't even see straight, but he can't sleep, he just can't, it's too scary. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," JC repeats over and over again, curling into a little ball, trying to disappear.
He feels the bus stop again, and Lance and Joey climb on, jeans and jackets hastily thrown on. They have a hastily whispered conversation, the four of them, and then Justin borrows someone's phone, since his is currently in pieces. JC hears bits and snatches of the conversation, most of it not really making sense. He thinks maybe they're talking to Johnny. Maybe they're trying to find a replacement for their basket case co-lead singer. The thought makes him giggle a little, but it's shrill with hysteria, and then he's crying again.
And Justin is yelling again, and JC doesn't think he's ever heard Justin yell at Johnny, certainly not like this. "I said cancel the fucking show. There's no way we're going on tonight. Just cancel it, god dammit!" And that can't be right, Justin would never say that, Justin is the one who insists that they owe it to the fans, that this is their job and they need to do it. Justin was the one who convinced them that Joey was right, they should go when he was in the hospital, even though none of them liked the thought of performing without him. Justin would never tell them to cancel a show because of him.
JC hears little of the rest of it, and when he's aware of his surroundings it's just him and Justin again, and the bus is moving. "Chris is crashing with Joey and Lance," Justin tells him. "He's a little freaked out." JC looks away guiltily, knowing that he's the one freaking Chris out, and Justin comes and crawls in next to him, turning his head so he has to meet his eyes.
"It's not your fault, Jace. Don't think that. We're just worried. Scared." Justin rubs his back, wincing at the knobby bumps of spine he can feel. JC feels tiny and frail in his arms.
"Me, too." JC admits. He's scared. Really scared.
"You want to talk about it? Do you remember any more?"
He doesn't want to talk about it, not really, but maybe it'll help. "It's... it's the concert, the other night. And the girl jumps on stage, and she has the gun. And she... says something... and then you knock me down, and... and there's something else, but I can't remember. My hands."
"Your hands?"
"They're... warm. I don't know. I just know that I wake up, screaming, and I'm always looking at my hands." JC is shaking, just from that memory, and Justin holds him tighter.
"It's okay. You don't have to think about it. Why don't... why don't you try to sleep now? If I think you're dreaming, I'll just wake you up. Before... before it gets too bad."
He doesn't want to, doesn't want to have the dream again, is willing to maybe never sleep again if he doesn't have to have the dream. But this is Justin asking, with his hands warm and soothing on JC's back. For Justin, JC is at least willing to try. "What if you fall asleep?"
"I won't," Justin promises. "I'll be right here. Watching."
It feels warm and safe in Justin's arms, and it seems like so long since JC has felt safe. He lets his eyes close, snuggles into Justin's neck.
The next thing he knows Justin is shaking him awake. "What?" He blinks sleepily.
"You were kinda thrashing around, moaning a little. It's okay, go back to sleep." Justin runs his fingers through JC's hair, "Shhh. Relax, I'm watching."
When Justin wakes him up again, he can tell more time has passed. "How long?"
"Almost two hours this time."
Considering that he's been known to sleep for 10 hours without moving it doesn't seem like much, but he'll take what he can get at this point. He feels the bus stop again. They're at the hotel.
They're still wearing the clothes they put on after the concert, JC realizes, as they stumble off the bus. It's early, not quite 5 a.m., but there's a handful of fans keeping vigil outside. Justin smiles at them but walks past, one hand on JC's back in a way he hopes looks casual, propelling them inside. He feels bad that they're ignoring them, but he sees Lance and Joey and Chris stop for a minute behind them, picking up some of the slack.
In the elevator, with just the two of them and security, Justin puts an arm around him, pulling him close. "You can go back to sleep in a minute," he promises. JC clings wearily, feeling like Justin is the only thing keeping him upright.
Justin takes both their keycards, pulling JC into his room with him. JC slumps on the bed, almost unconscious already, as Justin takes off his shoes, then his jeans and his shirt. Then Justin pulls off his own clothes, leaving just his underwear also, and they climb into bed. Justin pulls him into his arms, and kisses his temple lightly. "Sleep."
JC sleeps, and when he wakes up it's not because he's afraid or screaming, but because he desperately has to use the bathroom. Justin is still watching him, his own face looking haggard and tired now. JC gets up, and when he comes back he automatically folds himself back up against Justin. "You sleep too," he tells him. "It's okay."
"I promised...." Justin says.
"It's okay," JC repeats, and this time he's the one leaning up to kiss Justin on the cheek. "Sleep."
By the time JC wakes up again, the slant of light tells him that most of the day is gone. Justin is curled around him, as if to protect him from some unseen enemy. He feels warm, and safe. He gives out a little yelp when he sees the clock, waking Justin.
"What.... are you okay?"
"We missed soundcheck! We're going to be late for the concert!" JC moves to get out of bed, but Justin stops him.
"No concert. We cancelled it."
JC vaguely remembers Justin yelling on the bus, about canceling the concert. "You didn't have to do that."
Justin's voice is firm. "Yeah we did. You needed... us."
"Thank you." JC thinks there might be tears in his voice, and he hides his face in Justin's chest, embarrassed. All his emotions seem close to the surface, raw. He feels Justin's fingers tangle in his hair, lightly stroking.
"When... when that girl had the gun... god. I thought I'd lose you. And you know how they say your life passes before your eyes? Our life did, you and me, all the time we've spent together. How you watched out for me on MMC. How you used to take care of me when we were first starting out, and I'd get so homesick. How you helped me with my songwriting, and then didn't even get mad when I started working with Wade. How you never said a word to me about how many songs we each got on Celebrity, or how many leads I sang."
"You know that stuff doesn't matter to me...."
"I know. And that's what's so amazing to me. That I have this friend who always takes care of me, and all I do is take him for granted. And when I thought I could lose you, you know what the first thing I thought was?"
He sounds so upset.. "It's okay, Justin, we were all scared. But we're okay. No one got hurt."
Justin keeps going as if he hadn't even heard him. "Because I'm standing there, and you could die, and the first thing I thought is, 'Who's going to take care of me?'" His voice breaks on the last word, and he tries to pull away from JC. "That's how selfish I am. Your life is in danger, and I'm thinking about myself."
JC won't let him go, holding on tight. "And then you tackled me, Jus. You took care of me."
"Because I'm selfish," Justin stubbornly insists.
"You don't put yourself in front of a gun because you're selfish." A thought occurs to him. "So that's why you've been like this. You felt guilty?"
"No, no. That's not it." Justin's hands sweep over his back, and JC thinks it's a weird way to talk to each other, holding on tightly but not able to see each other's face. "You needed someone to take care of you. I just... wanted to return the favor."
JC doesn't know what to say to that, and he can feel himself getting choked up again, so he just says "Thank you" again. They lay there for a minute, not talking.
"You wanna eat?" Justin asks, just as JC says, "I'm starving." They pull apart and smile at each other.
They call the other guys, who seem hesitant when they come in. They relax when they see JC looking so much better. "So Sleeping Beauty managed to get some, huh?" Chris asks, elbowing JC in the ribs. JC and Justin both start and blush. "Um, some sleep. What did you think I meant?"
Eating in the hotel room, watching reruns on television and joking and teasing each other, it's the most carefree night they've spent in a while. "Let's cancel concerts more often," Joey sighs. Then catches Justin's look. "Or not."
JC yawns, and everyone laughs. "Guess that's our cue," Lance says.
When JC and Justin are alone, suddenly things are awkward. "Um, maybe I should. Just. You know," JC stammers out.
"Jace..." Justin's voice is gentle. "Let's just go to sleep."
So they do.
Despite the fact that they didn't do much of anything the day before except sleep, they have no trouble sleeping through the night. JC wakes up with Justin's head pillowed on his stomach, and he smiles and runs his hand over the stubbled head. The long lashes flutter, and a second later, big blue eyes are staring up at him.
"Hey," Justin says softly.
"Hey," he answers, just as softly.
Justin sits up a little, stretches. "You slept okay?"
"Like the dead," JC says without thinking, and Justin winces. "I didn't... I'm sorry."
"Don't. Don't apologize. You're here, and you're safe, and you're sleeping again, and that's all that's important." He takes a deep breath. "I was really worried about you."
JC smiles tenderly at him. "I know. Me too." Reaches out, brushes Justin's cheek. "You're cute when you're playing mother hen."
He doesn't know if it's the words, or the touch, or the fact that they've spent the night in each other's arms, but something changes between them. Shimmers in the air. Without thinking about it -- without letting himself think about it -- he leans forward and brushes his lips over Justin's.
Justin doesn't do anything for a second, and then his lips move, and they're really kissing. It's chaste, but still exciting -- JC feels it as a jolt of electricity, his entire body focused on the sensation of those incredibly soft lips against his own.
Justin pulls back first, just enough to break the kiss. JC opens his eyes to see Justin with his still closed. He runs a tongue over his lips, then opens his eyes. "Oh," is all he can seem to manage to say. "Oh."
"Wow," is JC's response, still a little shaken. And that was just a kiss.
"Wow," Justin echoes, his eyes bright. His fingers trace the back of JC's hand, still resting on his cheek.
Before anything else can be said, there's a pounding on the door. "Do you two dorks want your luggage, or were you planning on spending the day in your underwear?" Chris yells.
Justin laughs and gets out of bed. "Yeah, yeah, hold on, I'll be there in a second." He exchanges a secret smile with JC before going to answer the door, both of them thinking that there are worse fates than having to spend the day together in their underwear.
They have a radio interview this morning, and it's as boisterous as they always are, the five of them cutting each other off and jumbling their stories together. Justin is unusually subdued, though, letting the others do most of the talking, glaring at Lance once when he cuts off JC in mid-ramble.
Afterwards, they chat with the DJs and publicity people from the station while they wait for the limo to pick them up. JC is sitting in a chair, and Justin comes over and says something to him, makes him laugh. Chris watches them, eyes narrowed, as Justin's hand casually rests on the back of JC's neck, one thumb moving in a small circle. There's no other way to describe it but as a caress.
Chris bounces over to them, a grin plastered on his face. "Hey, Jup, come tell this guy about the time you got stuck in your harness over the crowd, you know you tell it better." He grabs Justin's arm and yanks, hard, pulling him away from JC. Then hisses under his breath, "Can we keep our hands to ourselves in public, please?"
Justin looks so startled that Chris realizes he had no idea what he was doing, it was completely unconscious. And as the day wears on, he sees it continue. JC and Justin are mostly oblivious to it, but they can't stop touching each other. At one point Chris swears he sees them holding hands.
"Do you notice anything... strange... about J and C?" he finally asks Joey, as they're eating dinner after soundcheck. Joey looks over at the two of them, sitting with Lance. Justin is kind of leaning into JC, who has his arm draped around his shoulders, eating with one hand while the three of them talk.
"Strange how? They sounded good I thought."
It's hard to explain it in words. "They just... they keep touching, did you see? It's like they can't bear to be separated or something."
Joey shrugs it off. "We had quite a scare there with JC, it's not surprising Jup is being a little overprotective." Chris nods, but he's not as sure.
On the bus after the show, everything seems like it has always been. Chris settles down to play a video game, waiting for Justin to join him. JC announces he's going to go to sleep. Just like always.
Except that Justin follows JC back to the bunks and stays there for a minute, before coming back out to Chris. He gives him a curious look. "What were you doing in there, tucking C in and kissing him goodnight?"
He isn't sure what it's supposed to mean when Justin blushes.
He grabs one of the game controllers instead of answering. "You ready for me to kick your ass?" he challenges. And they're off, doing battle on screen.
Until they hear the screams.
Justin goes white, dropping the controller and scrambling to his feet. "Fuck," he mutters to himself as he runs to the back. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!"
That seems to about sum up the situation. Chris follows.
JC is sitting in his bunk, head buried in his hands. Justin shoots a look at Chris, and then seems to decide he doesn't give a damn what Chris thinks, and gets into the bunk with JC. "Shhhhh. It's okay. It's all okay."
JC clutches Justin in a grip that looks like it hurts, and Chris sees that he's crying. "I thought it was over," he sobs against Justin. "I thought it was gone."
Justin shoots Chris a look that is as eloquent as any words, and Chris backs out slowly.
Once they're alone Justin lies back, pulling JC against him. "Hey, it's okay. Relax. I'm here, baby. It's okay." The endearment falls from his lips before he thinks about it, but it sounds right. "Jace, don't cry. It's okay."
JC is almost hysterical, the tears wetting through Justin's shirt. "I don't understand. It stopped! It's supposed to stop!"
"Shhhh. Just go to sleep. I'm here. Nothing will happen to you, I'll make sure." It worked before, so Justin sees no reason why it won't work again. In his arms, JC can sleep.
"I can't just sleep with you every night."
Why not, Justin thinks, and then he says it. "Why not?"
"It's not an answer, J. What happens when we're not on tour? When we have people staying with us? When you want to pick up a girl in a club and bring her back to your room?"
"None of that is as important as you are. If you need me, I'm here." To Justin, it really is that simple.
JC sighs, and plucks aimlessly at the sleeve of Justin's shirt. "It's not an answer," he repeats. "We need to find out what it really is. We need to make it go away. For real."
"So you won't need me anymore?" The question comes out very quiet, and very small.
JC levers himself up so he's leaning over Justin, looking right into his eyes. "I'll always need you, J. Always." And then he kisses him again.
They've kissed a few times during the day, unable to help it when they found themselves alone, just relieved to be able to touch and hold each other without feeling like they're under a microscope. Justin doesn't want anyone to ask him why he feels better with his arms wrapped around JC's waist, feeling JC leaning into him. He just does.
This isn't like those earlier kisses, though. They're practically on top of each other in the small bunk, and JC's tongue licks at Justin's lips, until they part. He explores Justin's mouth, the slide of their tongues together irresistible. When he pulls back Justin lets out a little moan, and JC smiles.
"I need you, okay? No matter what. And..." He moves against Justin, letting him feel his arousal. "In case it hasn't been obvious, I want you. I just want to be better. That's all."
"Then we'll make you better," Justin promises, holding him tightly. "Because I need you, too."
Wrapped together, they fall asleep quickly. When Chris comes back later, he stands there looking at them, heads together on the pillow, Justin with his arms wrapped possessively around JC. He stands there for a long time before he goes to his own bunk.
When Justin wakes up he's alone, and it's still dark. He waits, thinking maybe JC is in the bathroom, but when the minutes stretch out he gets up and goes to the lounge area. JC is sitting on the couch, looking out the window. "Jace?"
JC turns, and Justin can see the tracks of tears on his cheeks. "What happened?" He stands a few feet away, not sure what's wrong now.
"C'mere," JC says, motioning Justin forward, and he goes eagerly, sliding behind JC and holding him close. They rest their heads against each other. "I remembered," JC says softly.
"The dream?"
"She jumps up on stage, and comes at me. She says... something... and then you tackle me, and I hear the shot. And I can't breathe, because you're on my chest, but when I look up at you, you're not moving. I feel something warm on my hands, and when I look down at them, they're bright red. With blood. Your blood. You die, in my arms, because you tried to save me. You die because of me. It's all my fault."
"But it's not. I didn't die. I'm right here, Jace. I've always been here."
He isn't sure if JC even heard him. They're quiet for a long time, and then JC says, "I love you."
He's not expecting it, and his response is severely lacking. "Oh! I, um. Oh."
"It's okay. I know you... you don't have to say it. I just... I don't want to hide it behind words like 'I want you' or 'I need you.' I love you, Justin. Maybe I always have and it just took this to make me realize it. Maybe it's just this intense situation we're wrapped up in, but I don't think so. I know what I feel. And it's real."
Justin thinks he may have cried more in the past few days than ever before in his life, and he's doing it again, a slow welling as his eyes overflow. "It is real. Because I feel it, too. I love you, too."
"You don't have to --."
"I know. I'm not just saying it. I love you, Jace."
They hold each other, no more words needed, until they fall asleep again. When Chris comes out the next morning, he just smiles at the sight of them there.
A few days later, Justin and JC are in the quiet room, huddled in a corner kissing in what they think is an unobtrusive manner. From the hoots and catcalls of their bandmates, maybe not.
The other three had accepted the relationship without question, happy for their friends. It had been easy with them, easier than probably the rest would be. They were still working that out, who needed to know, who they had to hide it from, how they would break the news to the people closest to them. All that would come in time; right now it was enough to just delight in being together.
There are no more nightmares. Not just because JC sleeps with Justin, but because he's confronted the fear in his subconscious. When he takes a nap alone, the dreams stay at bay, and more often than not when he wakes up he's enclosed in a pair of strong arms, or being kissed awake by those sweet, soft lips.
They're leaving the venue that night when Justin realizes that there's one mystery that still hasn't been answered. He turns to his security guard. "Lonnie, when you guys pulled that girl down, the one with the gun, did she say anything?" JC always said that she said something to him in the dream, but could never remember what.
Lonnie seems embarrassed by the question, and looks away. "It doesn't really matter, does it?"
Justin thinks it must matter very much if Lonnie won't tell him. "What did she say? I need to know."
"She said, 'You can't have him. Justin's mine,'" the burly security guard finally admits. "She was crazy."
Justin can't quite believe it. Is it possible? Did she see something they hadn't been ready to face yet? Was it possible that a crazed fan obsessed with keeping them apart is what ended up bringing them together?
He knows it doesn't really matter. What matters is that she failed, and that Justin is JC's now. And JC is Justin's.
And maybe that's the way it was always supposed to be.
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