Road Killers 2: First Impressions Kill

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Justin dragged himself to the sanctuary of his bed, snuggling into the thick sheets, letting the coolness of his pillows wipe away his stressful fever. Blurry nightmares still haunted him. Visions that hid in the blackness of twilight ready to jump out at him when he least expected it, the way that a child thought of an imaginary monster. Justin was embarrassed to admit it but he still looked under the bed just before he let it engulf him with comfort, just for the sake of a good nights sleep, rather than be kept up with anxiety. It was a nonsensical habit but it was harmless, and if it kept worry at bay then it was nothing to get flustered over.

Justin tossed and turned on the opulent mattress in a futile attempt to find relaxation. Slumber seemed like such a far ride away that he was tempted to discontinue rest and stay up the whole night, with the television acting as his best friend. Heaving a sigh of contempt he flung himself on his back letting his thoughts wash over him like ocean waves. He prayed for the memories of that day to leave him and his family in peace and strangely wondered where Lance was, and what he was doing.

 

He shook his head and dispersed the tranquil thoughts of his tormentor from his mind, berating himself for thinking of Lance in such a calm manner. He should be angry, wanting to physically kill the psychotic man with his bare hands but he just couldn't summon up those feelings inside of him, even though the thought of the man still petrified him. It unnerved him to think how he could just brush it off like that but God knows he had tried to get mad but it was as if that part of him had died on the day he met Lance.

Changing positions so he was on his side, Justin let his eyes flicker around his bedroom, lingering on the eye-catching objects that allowed the moonlight to reflect from them. Folders that contained incomplete homework made him groan. School life was back to bother Justin. The time he had spent off was now being paid back, an unfair debt, he thought, after all it wasn't his fault he missed so much. It wasn't his fault that he was beaten so badly that he was too scared to leave the house for eighteen months. It wasn't his fault he echoed in his mind, compelling himself to believe it.

His almost lifeless blue orbs rested on his closet door and he frowned. He didn't remember leaving it open. In fact he had made a point of making sure it was shut after every horror movie played on his mind, where the killer was hiding in the closet. Shakily, he swung his legs from his bed and stalked to his bedroom door, walking out onto the hallway, his protective instinct making him check on his family first, an obsession he went through religiously every late night. The door to his brothers’ room creaked open as he peered inside, smiling at the angelic sleeping forms. They had coped considerably well since the experience, with only a few therapy sessions proving enough to rid them of their bad dreams. Justin wished he could have coped like that. He felt like such a baby.

Returning to his room with a satisfied smile he confidently waltzed over to the closet, determined to get Lance out of his mind. He stared at the open door and stuck his head into the small closet, his eyes frantically perusing the space. Silence engulfed him making the sound of his own breathing that much louder. He stepped inside the closet and looked around the tiny area, pulling back hung up clothes with all of his strength, annoyance pouring out at his borderline eccentric behavior. His experience with Lance was over, and after three years Justin thought he would have been able to get on with the rest of his life. Judging by the way he was acting, he was obviously wrong.

 

 Justin was suddenly drawn to the corner of his closet, a speck of yellow enticing him closer. He placed both hands on his clothes and drew them back, suddenly falling away as a flash of movement darted out from behind his shirts. He felt his chest tighten, suffocating him and preventing him from screaming for help. He sunk to the floor and curled up in a ball trying desperately to protect himself. He couldn't bring himself to look, knowing that it would just be one of his nightmares come true. Instead he listened into the night, waiting for a sound that would give away the identity of whatever was there. Justin cowered in the opposite nook, daring to peek his eyes out from behind his hands. Nothing. He scoured the space in front of him searching for a clue that someone had been there and he wasn't just losing his mind. He pushed himself to his feet and wandered back out, rubbing at the back of his neck, trying to soothe away the confusion. What the hell had just happened? Just as he was about to climb back into bed he turned to look at his closet as if he were aiming to catch what was there. Still he saw nothing, just an open door that led to nothing. Justin smiled in pleasant surprise. It was the first time he had ever left the door open.

Forthwith unbeknown to Justin, a scarred hand snaked out from under the bed and suddenly grabbed the boy's ankle, pulling him to the floor. As he hit the carpet with a thud he screamed for help, kicking at the arm with his other leg as he felt himself being pulled back. His frantic hands flailed about on the floor, grappling at the carpet trying to find a handhold. He tugged on his leg, swiftly kicked and pulled himself free.

 

In an instant Justin was on his feet and raced to towards the door, darting over scattered jeans and piles of unfinished homework. He wrestled with the lightweight door, his shaky hands grabbing for the handle, but it was as if he was suddenly robbed of all strength. He sunk to the floor screaming for help as a figure sat up next to the bed, the little light outside illuminated the same baby features that became so well known to Justin. Green eyes that flickered with harm bore into Justin as the boy shook with fear. He thought he had left those memories behind him, only seeing the evil in his reveries.

 

Lightning cracked outside illuminating the room. Justin screamed at the sight of Lance's wicked grin, pressing himself against the door as he slowly rose to his feet, his fist poised in the air, moonlight flashed on the metal object, as if it was warning Justin that Lance had a knife. The younger blonde once again resorted to pounding on his door as huge gasping sobs suffocated him.

 

A sharp pain in his chest caused him to sit bolt upright as he felt like electricity had been passed through his body, making his head throb and his limbs ache. His eyes darted around his room to be faced, once again, with emptiness. He was alone. His room was exactly how he had left it, with an unmade bed, and messy floor. His closet door was also closed. Justin furrowed his brow. Had the whole night been a dream? He felt so confused. He stood up and fiddled with the door handle, relaxing a little as it opened easily. Sighing, he wandered to the bathroom to cool down with a little water. He really needed help.

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"Are you ok? You look like shit" Justin leant into the soothing hand that was rubbing the kinks away from his neck, feeling more relaxed than he had in a long while. The stress of studying was beginning to get him down, especially considering he was now twenty and still attending high school. But repetition of the last two years was mandatory after his long absence.

"You got a real way with words Rob, yanno that?" he drawled sarcastically, trying his best not to sound drunk as the massage practically sedated him.

"So I'm told,” the taller man replied with a grin as he suddenly took away his hand from Justin's shoulders, causing the blonde to fall back against him.

"Hey! I was enjoying' that!" Justin argued, his lips forming a pout that no one could ever resist.

"I noticed. Perhaps a little too much!" Rob cracked, his eyes gesturing to his boyfriend's crotch causing Justin to blush a deep shade of red.

"Shut up!" he snapped, grinning in spite of himself, his blue eyes skirting around the field, searching for suspicious watchers. They still had to be careful in keeping up the charade that they were friends. Justin's frenzied eyes settled on his lover, looking him up and down, as the expression on the taller man's face became that of a serious one.

"Seriously Justin. Are you ok?" Justin shrugged of the question with a broader smile, fooling no one with the extent of its authenticity.

"I'm fine!" he sang, perhaps a little too happily.

"Because you know you can talk to me, right?" Justin stared at the floor and suddenly felt a pang of guilt sting him like a slap. He couldn't keep a secret from Rob, not one as big as he was hiding. It wasn't fair.

"Ok" he sighed, defeated. He knew he would have to recount to him what had happened that day, but he just didn't know how to tell him, so had no control over himself when he just blurted it all out.

"A few years ago I was on vacation with my mom and brothers, we were driving through Texas. Anyway on a stop we made I met this guy in the bathroom. We had sex." He spoke very matter of fact, surprising Rob with his frankness and how he spoke about it without being persuaded.

"Later he jumped us whilst we were in the car. He beat mom up, abandoned my brothers and took me to this warehouse place. He and these other guys raped me. I don't know how, but I managed to get away and found mom..." Justin trailed off, just realizing that he was sobbing. Rob drew him into a protective hug, striving to keep hold of the tears that had formed in his own eyes.

"Thank you Justin" Rob spoke softly, determined to keep a straight voice. He didn't like showing his emotions.
"Huh? What for?"

"For telling me that..." the brunette trailed off with a blush, realizing he was in danger of becoming sentimental. Rob cradled his lover until the tears gradually subsided and Justin had calmed his gasping sobs, leaving him to breathe with serenity. Justin hadn't been with another man since Lance. He had just been too scared of going through a repeat performance, but Rob was such a contrast to the man that still haunted his dreams.

 

Rob was kind, gentle and made Justin feel safe, something Justin had not felt in a long time. Sitting back, Justin wiped away his tears with a palm of a shaky hand and forced out an almost feeble smile to show he was ok. He hadn't gone into detail over his horrendous attack. He didn't think that Rob had needed to know. It would have been too much information too soon and was even too much for Justin to think about.

The angry school bell tore away their heartfelt conversation, screaming at them to go home. Pulling away from his lovers touch, Justin stood up, patting his leg too feel for keys in his pocket.

"Did ya wanna ride home?" Justin offered, his hand slowly reaching out to cup his lover's face, feeling him shake his head in response.

"Nah, it's outta your way... besides I gotta stay back and catch up on some work..."

"You mean detention" Justin smirked before his teasing voice crumbled with genuine laughter, doubling in decibel as Rob nodded complete with a bashful blush to grace his tan cheeks.

"Typical!" Justin admonished light-heartedly. "I'll call you tonight then" he whispered softly, wanting nothing more than to kiss his boyfriend but unable to bring himself to do so in such a public place.

"Ok, talk to ya later" he smiled, desperate to add "baby" at the end, but wisely decided it best to keep affectionate terms of address away from prying ears. Everyone at school thought of them as nothing more than close friends, and that was the way the two men wanted, and struggled, to keep it. Justin finally had his life back on track and was not about to let the start of vicious rumors scour the school. He didn't like to admit it, but the world was not as accepting as it made out to be, and if the truth about his sexuality got out his life would be ruined. The minor screech of tires on gravel and a shy wave goodbye was on to bring out a smile on Rob's full lips. Lips that longed to kiss Justin.

Wandering into the darkened school prepared to face another detention with his despised teacher, Rob felt unusually spooked. A sudden chill down his spine made him shiver, bringing out a cold flush. He shook his head and thought the sudden change in his temperature strange, considering the warm climate of Tennessee. Pushing open the thick, wooden door Rob found himself faced with an empty room. The sun shone through the gaps in the venetian blinds, scattering its rays upon the plain tables and walls.

"Mr Parkes? Sir?" he called out, his voice bouncing around in an echo. Rob shrugged and walked out of the classroom again, his brow knitted in a frown. Punctuality was his teacher's middle name, so Rob deemed it surprising that he was absent. Rob stalked down the corridor, peering through various windows in search of his teacher. His footsteps bellowed in the empty school and the realization eventually dawned on him that he was the only one in the building.

"Where the fuck is everyone?" he exclaimed to himself, thinking there should at least be a few more students in for detention, or a janitor around somewhere sweeping a mop over the muddy teenage footprints. But there was no one.

 

Feeling the need for a cigarette he strayed outside, glad of the warm sun on his skin that chased away his cold nervousness. He shook his head and blew smoke from his smiling lips, feeling foolish for his discomfiture and thought about phoning Justin for pure conversation whilst he trekked home. A flash of movement suddenly caught his eye. It seemed to dash around a corner. Squinting into the sun he peered as far as he could, watching for any sign of life. The movement had been evaporated like a puddle on a hot day, as Rob thought nothing more of the sight. Digging in his bag for his phone he pressed the numbers to Justin's cell that he had memorized.

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"Hello?" came the tired sounding voice.

"Just?" he asked with concern, wondering if their conversation had taken its toll on him.

"Robby! How's detention?" The voice instantaneously brightened upon hearing from his boyfriend.

"Non existent. Parkes didn't show up." Rob could almost hear Justin frown on the other end of the line.

"Hm. That's weird. Parkes is always there, come rain or shine!" he chuckled, deepening his southern accent for effect.

"Yeah that's what I thought. No one else was there either. The place is totally deserted..." Rob was cut of by the sound of a giggling Justin singing the theme to the Twilight Zone.

"Oh shut up you!" he chided spiritedly. "So anyways I'm headed home now, do you wanna do something tonight? Like catch a movie or whatever..."

"Yeah. Yeah that'd be good. They got some good flicks playin..."

"Sure.. I wanna see that new--" Rob suddenly stopped his speech upon hearing an unnatural noise, spinning round to look behind him.

"Rob? Rob come on quit goofing around!" Justin spoke, choking back the fear that bit at his speech.

"Huh? Oh sorry Just... I thought I saw something" he sighed, waiting for the sarcastic comments from Justin. They didn't come.

"Rob, get home now" he spoke carefully, sure his voice was cracking.

"Yeah, that's where I'm goin’ Just..." Justin sat up straight on his bed, his face pale with terror.

"I'm not kidding Rob. Go home now. Run." Rob took a deep breath trying to suffocate his apprehension. Justin's tone couldn't help but unnerve him.

 

"Justin, what is this all about?"

"Rob look around... how many people do you see?" Rob rolled his eyes but still did as his boyfriend said. He foraged the neighborhood with brown eyes, flitting from empty gardens to deserted streets.

"None."

"Get home Rob... please!" he begged in a tiny voice.

"Just tell me what all this is about?"

 
"The guy who raped me. He's back. He was in my room last night but I thought I dreamt it..."

"Justin..." he rolled his eyes and threw away his cigarette, his actions relating to his newly adopted calmness.

"Don't use that tone! I'm not goin’ crazy! Just please get home Rob!" Justin pleaded, his breaths quickening as silence answered him.

"Rob? Rob you better not be playin’ around!" Justin paced his room with frantic steps, running nervous hands through his thick curls.

"Rob?!" he screamed into the phone, color returning to his face as he heard his boyfriend heave an exasperated sigh.
"Justin, I admit I did feel kinda spooked, but there is honestly nothing to worry about. Look I'm almost home now, so if you wanna come over or somethin..."

"Yeah... yeah sure I'll be over in a few..." Justin whispered, a blush framing his cheeks at his stupidity.

"Ok, I'll see ya soon" he announced, the cheerfulness restored itself to his voice. Rob couldn't help but smile as he hung up his conversation. He always thought it was sweet when Justin worried but his reactions had been a bit strong.

 

Pulling out his last cigarette from his pack he berated himself for smoking too much and made a mental note to quit, knowing full well that he never would. The second his thumb made contact with his lighter to flick to flame on, arms wrapped around him from behind, pulling him to the hard reality of the concrete. A monstrous howl escaped terrified lips as the flame made contact with skin. Clothes burned in an angry red inferno that moved over the cold floor, copying the movements of its victim ... until nothing.

 

Green eyes glowed with pleasure at the still flames that continued to burn on in memory of its recent immolation, an evil laugh accompanying the nefarious sacrifice.

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Justin wiped his tired eyes and forced himself to concentrate on the empty road. Part of him was glad of the isolation as his car screamed through the red light in his hurry to get to his lover's house. He castigated himself for being so overprotective, but it was a part of him he had no control over. His safeguarding nature had followed him since childhood, niggling him at the sight of a hurt loved one, be that a tear or a scratch, but that streak had seemed to grow as he did.

 

He smiled thinly as he thought of how he must look. He was driving like a maniac and all because his boyfriend thought he had seen something, although as he perused his surroundings he could easily see why Rob had been a little disturbed. The place was deserted, and with no seemingly good reason.

 

Normally the neighborhood would be bustling with happiness. Children would be playing in their front yards, mostly awaiting the return of their parents coming home from work. Something would always be going on... a driving lesson, an attempt at a baseball game, even the odd fight, but today there was none of that. The eerie stillness of the bourgeoisie neighborhood shook with each movement, with the soft breeze that whistled through bushes and trees could easily trick the eyes into seeing something that simply was not there.

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Pulling into the empty driveway Justin frowned at the sight of the dark house. Knowing Rob, he would normally have the house bustling with friends and blaring music would seep through open windows, often instigating a neighbor to complain. But today there was nothing. Not even the breath of another neighborhood inhabitant.

 

Justin peered through the letter box and into the unlit hallway after receiving no answer from his pounding on the door. His heart pounded against his chest as he scanned the small area, convinced that at any second he would spot his lovers unconscious body, strewn across the blood covered floor. Justin shook his head in order to catch his runaway imagination. He laughed lightly at his dramatics and forced himself to be realistic. Rob was probably upstairs being too lazy to answer the door.

Justin peeked through the letterbox one last time, trying to spot if Rob was answering or not. It was impossible to see through the distorted glass of the door. Justin suddenly fell back in terror as the other side of the mailbox was opened, landing in a sitting position with a painful thud. Eyes stared back at him. Eyes that were laced with evil. Eyes that were green.

"Oh God no" he whispered through trembling lips. "Please no." He forced himself to look again. If Lance was there Justin was going to face him. He was sick of running.

"Hi Justin" the familiar voice drawled, evil lacing the vocals.

"What the fuck have you done to Rob?!" he cried, tears streaming down his ashen face.

 
"Now why would you think I've done anything, Justin..." Justin grimaced at the return of the evil sarcasm that he hated.
"Where is he?"

"Here at home just like you asked..." Justin frowned at Lance's deliberate mind games, determined not to fall for them.
"You lying bastard."

"It's true," he stated in a close to monotonous voice, his eyes, unblinking, continued to bored into Justin.

"What have you done to him!," Justin screamed, his voice piercing through the tense atmosphere.

"Yanno, lover boy really shouldn't smoke so much. He could set something on fire... or himself," the voice laughed, his gaze fixated on Justin as he sat, trembling on the path just outside the front door.

"Why are you doing this?!"

"Because I can" came the statement before he heard a scuffle on the other side of the door and then silence as Lance slammed the letterbox shut. Justin wiped his tears as they poured from his eyes.

 

 He just wanted to curl up in bed and hide until everything went away. He wanted his mum to hug him and tell him that everything would be ok. He wanted the police, for one, to get off their fat asses and do something. He felt dizzy and sick as confusion spun him around. He barely knew where he was.

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Logic seemed unreachable as he desperately tried to stand, but it was as if the muscles had been ripped from his body and he was now a debilitated mess of anguish. Trying to fit his arm into the narrow letterbox, he allowed himself to lean against the glass door, seeking support from its coldness. He strained for the handle on the inside of the door, clutching it in a shaky hand as he eventually won the battle to pull it in a downward direction.

 

 He had no idea what he was doing. He knew he should just run, but all he could think about was Rob. He needed to know if his boyfriend was actually dead, or if it was just another lie courtesy of Lance. Justin fell through the doorway as he finally succeeded in opening it. Stumbling over the step he howled in animal like distress calling for help, desperate for an answer, even if it was from Lance. At least that way he could find out for sure what had happened. Not knowing was the worst feeling in the world, especially when all Justin could do was let the worry suffocate him, with the mixture of imagined scenarios and tears bringing his vision to a desolate obscurity.

"Rob?!!" he screamed, forcing himself in the direction of the stairs, clinging on to the wall with each labored step. The height of the staircase seemed enormous from Justin's teary sight. The mere sight of the looming steps was enough to make his stomach lurch knowing that climbing the flight was an impossible feat.

"Rob!" his strained voice called out again as he pressed a tottering foot onto the first step, a precarious hand grasping tightly to the banister, the pressure turning his knuckles white. He seemed to be crawling up the stairs, the way a child did when they were too little to walk them. Then again everything Justin seemed to do emulated a child's behavior. He wondered when he would grow out of his tender mannerisms when it came to checking under his bed. He also wondered why he was thinking about it at that particular moment.

 

 He suddenly felt his sneaker covered foot slip beneath him, bringing him to the carpeted steps with an aching thump. He clung to the stairs under him to stop himself from being dragged to the bottom. Pausing in his movements he let the confusion and anguish settle in his body, instead of spinning him around in a state of perplexity. Even though his body was racked with sobs he still managed to find a second strength to slowly push himself up, clutching the banister with one arm almost as if he were afraid of the practically minuscule height. He willed himself to look straight ahead of him at the door belonging to Rob's room, making himself a goal to aim to. He had to get up those stairs. Something was driving him on, telling him, warning him that he was needed up there.

Letting out a groan of desperation, Justin paused as he stood triumphantly on the top step. His cheeks were scattered with a cherry flush from his efforts, contrasting to his sickly pale skin that was fraught with anxiety. The smell hit him before anything else. It had already begun to seep under the doors and lingered under Justin's nose like thick smoke. It was divergent to anything he had ever had the bad fortune to breathe in. It made him sick to his stomach and Justin had to struggle to prevent himself from heaving. As the frantic boy shoved open the door with the force of his shoulder he was knocked back by the stronger stench. His clammy hands were pressed to each side of the door, holding himself up with what little strength he had left.

 

His eyes stopped on the black form on the bed. It couldn't be. Justin took an adverse step forward, his sight cloudy with tears that refused to rain from his eyes. The traumatic dizziness was overwhelming as he stared at the form that was once his boyfriend. Burnt beyond recognition. Unable to tear his eyes away, he studied to body with close inspection, trying to picture the form during its livelihood.

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---Flashback---

"I don't think we should be doin this Rob..." Justin blurted out in a lost little boy voice, tearing his lips away from his lover's.

"I mean you're mom is only downstairs an' all." Justin's fearful comment elicited an explosion of laughter from Rob as he pulled the shorter man into his arms.

"You worry too much Juju..." Justin frowned, but not at the accusation of his worrying.
"What did you call me?"

"Juju". Justin pursed his lips in deep thought whilst he pondered as to whether or not he despised the sudden nickname.

"Where'd that come from?"

"I dunno, I just kinda said it Juju. What'sa matter Juju? Don't ya like it Juju? Come on Juju, answer me!" Rob joked, stifling laughter that wanted to escape from smiling lips.

"Oh shut up!" Justin pouted slightly, aiming a light playful punch to his boyfriend's arm, before resting his head uncomfortably on Rob's broad chest.

"Lay still would ya?!" Rob cried in near annoyance as Justin started fidgeting around.

"I can't, your chain is in the way..." he excused, sitting up and picking up the chain between nimble fingers.

"It looks good on ya" he whispered sincerely, looking over the religious image he had brought Rob for his birthday.

"Course it does, you picked it." Justin stopped in his motions and searched Rob's face for any sign of sarcasm or mocking but found none. He smiled genuinely and leant in to kiss his lover, still holding the chain within thin fingers.

"I love ya Justin, ya know that?" Rob asked, almost as if he were unsure of his emotions.

"Yeah" Justin grinned at having heard Rob initiate the words primarily, for the first time.

"I love you too."

---End flashback---<

 

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Justin saw the silver chain flicker in the sunlit room, almost as if it was winking at him. Finally after the maddening emptiness Justin sunk to the floor in floods of tears, crying until his chest hurt and he threw up. His shoulders shook in gasping sobs as he curled up into a ball, his back pressed against the white painted wall. He cried for what seemed like hours to him, but the concept of duration was lost. He was trapped in a world of timelessness, and he honestly didn't care. For the second time in his life he had lost everything, with the exception of before he was lucky enough to recover from the trauma. Now it was different. He saw with his own scared eyes the work of an evil man, instead of having to listen to Lance's words and concentrate through confusion on whether they were truthful. The nothingness made him feel dead. He wished he were dead.

Arms suddenly wrapped around him, causing his heart to leap in terror but his body to remain stationary. He forced himself to turn his head to see who was holding him, expecting someone he knew to have found him. He never could have prepared himself to look in the eyes of the second man who had raped him. Struggle was useless to Justin. He was paralyzed with immense grief, tears gluing him in the safe, curled position. Soft-spoken coos of "ssh" tried to melt away the hold the sorrow had over Justin and were surprisingly successful.

"What are you doin here?" Justin slurred close to an incoherent tone.
"Helping you." Justin subconsciously furrowed his sticky brow and wrinkled his nose.
"Why?" he asked, his voice void of emotion.

"Because I want to. I tried to stop him, but he's too strong Justin, he made me do it" JC started to ramble, tears pressing at the corners of his eyes, begging to be let out.

"Huh?" his utterance blurred.

"Lance. He... he killed your boyfriend then made me carry him up here. I'm so sorry Justin. I am so sorry" he repeated, his voice cracking under the morbidity of the situation.

"He made me arrange Rob on his bed, Justin I'm sorry. I'm sorry!" he cried, his pleas not lost on Justin, as the boy snaked a shaky arm around the older man, berating himself for treating JC like a decent human, although he was still unable to summon the courage to support nor forgive him. In his mind he was fighting JC off, beating the shit out of him for harming Rob in such a disgusting way, before turning his back on the house and running as far as he could. But that scenario could only be imagined for Justin. He even surprised himself by being capable of holding himself up, as he felt completely drained, sapped of energy.

"Come on Justin..," JC recovered from his tearful breakdown, standing to his feet and urging the younger boy to do the same.

"We're gettin outta here."

"Why?"

"Lance is still in the house somewhere. He's going to kill us Justin. He's gonna kill us" JC repeated the fact to himself the second time, as it was just beginning to dawn on him how much danger he was in.

"So?" JC looked at the boy, taking in his beautiful features that JC had been lucky enough to see once again. Surely his grief was not so strong as to give up his life? He cocked his head at the younger man that sat at his feet, pitying the state he was in. Tears stained his once beautiful face, illuminating the anguishing illness that plagued it.

"Come on Justin. Look I'm on your side now, I swear it" JC beseeched as he tugged on the boy's arm, goading him into standing. He was not going to let Justin give up like this, and he certainly wasn't going to lose Justin again. Everyday he thought about the boy he first met three years ago, living in regret about not getting away from Lance then. He was scared and instead he forced himself to abuse Justin, for fear of seeing Lance's temper.

"Please Justin. Get out of here. Please!" his pleas were becoming frantic, his voice breaking with sobs as Justin stared up at him with lifeless blue eyes. Guilt wrapped around JC's heart as a solitary tear trickled down his gaunt face. He had deleted that life from Justin. He had played a part in his now spiritless composure, and he was not entirely sure if he would be able to fix that. God knew he wanted to.

JC tugged on Justin's arm, dragging him into an upright position.

"Come on Justin" he sighed, unable to give up on the boy. He felt himself break into a thin smile as Justin complied, and slowly shuffled out of the room. JC stuck his head out into the hallway, peering down the narrow corridors for sightings of Lance. The green-eyed man was nowhere to be seen, so JC took it as his cue to pull Justin through the hallway and down the creaking stairs.

"Shit!" the brunette cursed under his breath upon catching sight of Lance waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs, his green eyes dancing with a sick humor.

"Thanks for findin’ him Jace." Lance grinned as Justin jerked his head up, showing off his shocked, pale expression.

"You said..."

"He lied" Lance interrupted, much to the protest of a shaken JC.

"I didn't lie! Don't listen to him Justin, please! Don't believe a word he says!" he gasped in frantic breaths, praying that Justin would see the truth.

Justin felt tears welling up in his eyes again. This could not be happening to him. Not again. It had to be a dream, and any second now Justin would find himself in his own bed with everything returned to normal. He let his eyes flit back and forth between Lance and JC, trying desperately to decide which was the liar, but at that particular moment Justin honestly could not care. He just wanted whatever was going to happen, to happen.

A crash suddenly jolted him awake, his body jerking in a slight jump. His blue eyes widened in surprise upon the sight of Lance sprawled on the ground in an unconscious heap, blood trickling from the angry gash to his head with Chris standing over him, baseball bat in hand. The same bat that Lance had ordered Justin to be beaten with, but Chris and Joey were now taking orders from JC, in order to escape from the trouble they had been caught up in, and on his cue they pulled Justin from the stairs and in the direction of the front door, but he had given up any fight. He snapped his head back to look over his shoulder for JC, relaxing a little as he saw the man was right behind him. He could not believe he was feeling a little compassion towards the man, he couldn't explain anything he had felt since his fist encounter with Lance. He had been so mixed up. Distraught with traumatic memories one minute, the next they were forgotten. He just wanted the day to come when he could return to a healthy state of mind.

Justin leant back against the window as he was shoved into a car. He clenched at the seat with shaking fingers, gripping the soft saddle tight enough to turn his knuckles a ghostly white. He desperately tried to calm himself down, willing himself into a state of tranquility in an attempt to curb his hyperventilating. He felt himself drift back to his memories of when Lance sped him away in his mother’s car. Images of his mother lying in the road sailed back to him, causing a nauseous feeling to wash over him. He was at least thankful Lance had not got a hold of his family. They were safely at home, and he knew that for a fact. He had barely left them a half hour ago. His brothers were enjoying afternoon cartoons whilst his mother wafted around the kitchen preparing dinner. They were happy, completely innocent and unaware of what was happening to Justin. They were the lucky ones.

Justin was almost oblivious to the arms that wrapped around him; he barely recognized JC's soothing voice, as he was pulled closer to the older man.

"You're ok Justin. Everything will be alright...” he cooed softly, his hand caressing the boy's hair, smiling with contentment and relief as he felt Justin relax under his arms. His smile soon faded as he looked out the window at the gray world filled with emptiness. He gently shifted Justin to rest against the door and leant forward to speak to Joey and Chris in a protective whisper.

"What the hell is goin on around here?" Joey turned to look round at him, showing off the fear that was etched on his face.

"I don’t know. I don't like it."

"Me neither. Ya reckon this has anythin to do with Lance?" Chris interjected, gripping the steering wheel with his tenuous hands.

"I don't think, Chris. I know." JC frowned and forced himself to think back if Lance had gone off on his own at anytime. But surely he couldn't have harmed everyone in the neighborhood?

 

During his years with Lance, JC had seen such repulsive things that still haunted him every day. Nights would be spent waking up in a cold sweat, screams burning the back of his throat as his nightmares took a realistic turn. He never wanted to get involved with Lance. JC had known the man since they were both children, and even in then his violent streak had shown through.

 

Lance's eyes always shone with happiness whenever he had successfully instigated a fight, and JC had remembered being disgusted. Bits and pieces struck him clearly before everything else merged into repetitious behavior. Lance had forced him and the other two to travel with him. The idea of a gang appealed immensely to the blonde.

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Justin tried to snap to attention as he felt himself being pulled from the car. He wanted to be ready in case this was just another of their ways to get to him, but part of him was also enjoying the gentle caress of JC's hands, contrasting to his strong, secure arms. Enough had already happened; Justin could not cope with another attack. He relaxed his shoulders a little as he caught sight of his home, the panicky feeling fading slightly upon seizing a glimpse of his youngest brother at the living room window.

"Mom!" he let out in a sob as he flung open the front door.

"Mom!!!" he cried a little louder, bringing Lynn to his side in seconds.

"Justin? Justin, sweetie what happened?" Justin looked at his mother’s expression of concern and collapsed with sobs, leaning against her for comfort and support. Lynn worriedly cradled her distraught son stared at her new acquaintances, anger darting past her cold eyes that were strikingly similar to Justin's.

"Who the hell are you?" she inquired rudely, her brow knitted in an accusing frown.

"I'm Josh, this is Chris and Joey" he introduced, nervousness biting at his vocals.

"Justin has been through a lot today, we decided it best if he was brought home."

"What have you done to my baby?" she accused, stroking her eldest son's curls as he buried his face against her causing tears to soak through her clothing, not liking the tone she was taking with JC but was unable to bring himself to defend the man.

"Nothing ma'am, honest to God."

"Then would you mind explaining to me, why my son is in such a state?"

"It's kind of a long story..." Lynn glared and silently motioned for the three men to follow her into the living room.
"Jonathan? Honey, take your brother and play in the garden..."

"No!" JC interrupted in a panic, stopping the two boys from exiting the room. "I wouldn't let them out of your sight ma'am."

"Why not?" Lynn's voice carried less of an agitation that was replaced by anxiety.

"Because it's not safe..." Lynn sighed and settled herself back into her seating, still clutching Justin close to her.
"I'm not following..."

"Mom, Lance is back!" Justin cried, sitting up with a jolt, exposing his tear-streaked face, his breathing quickening as he rushed to explain things to her.

"The guy who attacked us! That was Lance! He's back, he's gonna kill me mom! He killed Rob!" Justin howled, becoming almost incoherent as he recounted the events of the day, relying on the other three men to add in bits when the grief became overwhelming. Lynn shuddered as tears pricked at her eyes. The was no way she could let her boys go through that again, not when they'd come so far in putting the events behind them. Lynn was speechless. She had no idea what to do. What to say.

"We have to go,” she announced in a whisper.

"Mommy?" Jonathan questioned, as he watched a tear roll down her cheek, recognizing that something was wrong even at such a tender age.

"It's ok sweetie. Mommy is just gonna go pack some things, and then we can get ready to go on a little trip..."
"Where?"

"Mommy hasn't decided yet honey. Go sit with Justin and I'll be right back" she guided him over to his older brother, smiling as Justin scooped the boy into his arms and hugged him tightly. 
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Lynn scampered up the staircase, practically tripping over her own feet in a desperate bid to get the top. The sooner she got upstairs the sooner she could pack and they would be able to escape. She sighed in a mixture of fright and disbelief, wanting to scream in frustration but somehow rescued the strength of composure.

 

She suddenly let a gasp fly from her pink tinted lips, upon catching sight of the T-shirt she wore on the day of the attack. Her breathing increased in rapidity as she spun her head around, searching every crevice of the room, knowing full well that those clothes stayed hidden as a painful reminder that she still could not bear to part with.

 

 She closed her eyes and swallowed the lump of panic in her throat as she silently advised herself not to get herself worked up. She must have laid it out herself. Her mind would continue to play tricks on her, convincing her of seeing things that weren't really there, and the erratum of hearing prevalent intonations for those of a more sinister nature.

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Justin held onto his brothers with all the conviction of a worried mother, surprising himself with his competence to repudiate his tears. Watching JC with alert eyes, taking in his thin frame and classic good looks, guiltily thinking about another man when his lover had just been killed, but couldn't stop himself.

"When are we going?" Jonathan's inquisitive nature shone through left to believe his mother's words in order to maintain his childlike serenity. The child's voice snapped Justin away from staring at JC.

"When mom's finished packing." Jonathan nodded in understanding before falling into a thoughtful silence.

"She's slow,” he piped up, bringing a small smile to the tremble of Justin's lips.

"I know" he whispered into the boy's ear, too exhausted to join in joking around with his younger brother.

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Unfolded clothes were thrown into suitcases, dust still covering the leather crates. Appearance was not on the top of Lynn Harless's list. Equal distributions of clothes were flung in a haphazard manner, creases forming on them in an angry revenge for being mistreated. Lynn spotted her purse on her bedside table, relieved at having remembered. The state of frenzy she was trapped in had admitted her into forgetfulness. Picking up her purse she felt a strange liquid substance cross her hands. She looked her hands over, screaming at the red tinge her hands took. Blood trickled from the diminutive table, creating a watery drip on the carpet. Hands trailed around Lynn, covering her mouth with a forceful slap, not slipping as it was tugged at. Lynn struggled frantically as she the suffocation became almost overwhelming.

 

Her cries of pain were violently muffled by the hand that was now producing sore, red marks that indicated her exertion to abscond. Stumbling with each forced step, Lynn abandoned her struggles prevented by the pain that was roaring through her ill-treated body. She felt kicks aimed at her legs, coercing her to move faster.

"Move bitch. Or you die right now" he whispered into her ear, unable to see the terrified look that darkened her features but enjoyed the manner in which she crumbled into smothered sobs. An angry knee dug sharply into the small of her back, pushing her forwards down the stairs never once loosening his grip on Lynn.

Lynn suddenly flew a foot at the wooden banisters, creating a panicked noise that brought Justin running to her.
"Bitch!" he cursed, snapping her head back in temper.

"Mom are you... oh God!" Justin cried, fully noticing the scene that had unfolded in his home. Tear pricked eyes stung as they scattered over the two figures in front of him with his heart pounding so hard it hurt.

"I... I... Oh God" Justin stuttered, trying to put a synchronous sentence together but found the only words that came out were those of repetitious shock, as he was joined by the three men who had brought him home, all desperately trying to keep Jonathan and Steven away from the sight.

"You said that Justin. This here would be the part where you save the day" Lance mocked scornfully, smiling at the collective gasps as he pulled out a gun, his smile faded as he heard the boys cry for their mother.

"Oh don't do that" he sighed, referring to their screams. "It just makes it harder to kill her. Unless of course Justin saves her,” he added, pressing the barrel of the gun to the temple of Lynn's head.

"Yanno, you're not acting like I thought you would Justin. I pictured you actually attempting to save your mom. Hm. You must not love her enough then" Lance spoke in a soft drawl, trying to goad the younger boy into a fight. He frowned, as he still saw no reaction from Justin, his brow knitted together in frustration as Justin simply stood in front of him, tears soaking his pale cheeks.

"Still nothin huh?" he spoke, mostly to himself. "Hmm. Oh well, what bout this?" he asked, pulling Rob's chain from beneath his shirt, his face contorting into an evil grin upon hearing the cry of pain and sorrow from Justin.

"Yeah I thought that might spark something.., look's better on me don't it? Maybe because I'm not dead" he spat, stepping back as Justin lunged for the blonde, anger cursing through his veins as he was unable to tear his eyes away from the chain. It made him sick to think that something that meant so much to him was in the possession of such a demonic persona.

"I'm gonna kill you!" he cried as he was suddenly pulled back by strong arms belonging to Joey.

"Don't do anything. You'll only put your mom in more danger" he whispered in the boy's ear, surprising Justin as the tone was honest and genuinely contained Lynn at the heart of it's derivation.

"You never answered my question. Are you gonna save the day Justin? Save your mom's life?" he taunted.

"You bastard!" Justin screamed.

"Wrong answer," Lance replied, casually pulling the trigger, causing a deafening shot to ring through the house, followed by evil laughter as blood splattered the terrified spectators. Justin stood motionless, not believing what had just happened. Not believing his mother was dead, and not believing the casual manner of her death. He barely heard his brothers’ frightful screams and didn't even bother to try to control his gasping sobs. He squeezed his watery eyes shut as he tried to block out his surroundings, but felt compelled to free them upon hearing the soft southern drawl, a sick curiosity sweeping over him wondering what turn his life was about to take.

"Ok, your turn" he smiled, pointing the gun at Justin, suddenly faltering his tense poise. "Unless ya give me a reason not to.. I mean I like ya Justin. I don't wanna kill ya, but I might have to" he spoke softly, returning to the calm demeanor he had when Justin first met him. Screams still echoed in the hallway, Jonathan unable to tear his eyes away from the gun and the man that seemed so familiar to him and wondered why his brother wasn't running. Steven lay in Joey's arms, his heartbreaking sobs muffled by the Italian's chest, unable to erase the image of his mother's death, screaming every time he replayed it. JC stood with clenched fists, too scared too move.

 

The years spent with Lance gave him the knowledge of the blonde man's strengths. He could kill a man with one hand and wouldn't hesitate in doing so. He stared directly at Lance who had now stepped over Lynn's blood soaked body in an attempt to stand closer to the boy he was now planning on killing. He blocked out Joey and Chris's soothing whispers to the boys, urging them to leave the scene as they refused. He merely concentrated on Lance, listening close to the tone of his voice to see if he could predict his moves.

Justin's expression stayed blank, although he was screaming with mixed emotions on the inside. Lance was just playing with his head again. He was good at mind games, knowing exactly what to say to destroy Justin.

"Gonna say anythin? You got a chance to save your life here Justin... or are ya just beginning to realize how worthless you actually are? Rob didn't put up much of a fight either..." he drawled in satisfaction as he watched a flash of anger dart through Justin's eyes.

"Come on Justin. I'm not a patient man. I either kill you or I don't, but whatever happens it's gotta happen soon... so what'll it be?" he rambled, his words tumbling together in a meaningless blur, sounding threatening nonetheless.

"Justin I don't wanna lose my temper," he stated calmly with a sigh as he dragged Justin out to the back yard, his face exploding into a grin as Justin crumbled into a mass of grief at the fetid sight that greeted him.

 

 Warm golden flames burnt in a fury, moving in the direction the contrasting gentle breeze took them. Bodies piled upon bodies could scarcely be seen through the blazes but there was no denying what they were. The stench was reminiscent of Rob's decay with the linger, this time, of a more powerful stench.

 

Tears blinded Justin as smaller bodies indicated the violent death of children and babies. Justin had no idea of the extent of Lance's disturbed nature until then, the sickness overwhelmed him as he struggled to stay conscious. So many thoughts ran through his head. His mother's death, whether the three other men could be trusted with his brothers, what was going to happen to him.

"Wanna join your mom and your fuck?" he spat, standing predominantly over Justin as he curled into a ball on the blood covered grass, the gun pointed directly at his head.

"Why are you doin’ this? Haven't you done enough?" Lance glowered harder and shook his head rigorously.

"Not by a long shot." A pained cry snapped their attention to the derivation of the voice as Chris and Joey hurried out into the garden, seemingly expecting the sick display. Truth of the matter was, the men were not shocked by anything involving Lance anymore. He'd seen too much.

"Don't you touch him Lance, don't you even fucking touch him" Chris spoke carefully, emotion omitted from his voice.
"Why?" he scowled, a childish manner sounding his voice.

"Just leave him be, he's been through enough." Lance was silenced by Joey's words, as if he stopped to ponder them.
"Nah I don't think so" he uttered, swinging around to point the gun at Joey, pausing for a brief second before shooting the brunette, smirking as the brown eyes widened in pain before closing forever as he fell to the ground.

"Gonna join him?" he asked, not really caring for an answer as he fired at Chris, no remorse for killing the two men he had known nearly all of his life. Lance Bass did not have friends.

"That's better. No distractions now" he sighed to himself, turning his attention to the hysterical sobbing that was coming from Justin.

"Shut the fuck up!" he yelled, his temper exploding that resulted in kicks to Justin's body. The younger man barely felt a thing. Events of that day combined with his first meeting with Lance had numbed him. He didn't care anymore whether he lived or died.

"Fuck Justin!" he screamed, snapping his gun toting arm down to his side. "It doesn't have to be this way! If you would just get off your pussy ass we could be happy together!" he cried frantically, infuriated by Justin's lack of response.
"Fuck you then" he yelled, eyes widening upon the sound of sirens.

"What the hell?" Lance's eyes darted his surroundings, warm flames mixing with the cold palette of colors radiating from the police vans.

 

"Shit! SHIT!" he screamed, for the first time of his life he was unsure of what to do.

 
"Fuck! FUCK!!! Fucking hell! Shit!" he cursed in a violent anger, kicking at the ground with each cuss. The scene around him was chaos. Bodies everywhere, a hysterical hostage, and children in the house. It was unbelievable even to the police, some of which were still trying to work out how Lance had managed to create such s nightmare as they merely stood by and watched the spectacle with gaping mouths and wide eyes.

"Put your weapon down and then place your hands in the air" came the crackled voice through the speaker. "We've got you surrounded now, so discard your weapon and put your hands in the air!"

"I thought I fuckin’ killed the cops too! Fuck!" he swore again before turning to look at Justin, grabbing him by the scruff of his shirt and pulling him up in a threatening manner, the gun flying into the younger man's side before the police even had time to register what was happening, let alone react.

"I'm goin’ down Justin, and I'm taking you with me," he spoke as if he were a movie star playing the part of a psycho, but as the nightmare unfolded, the reality of the situation could be seen. Lance was really going to kill him this time. Justin was going to die.

"Fuck Justin, if you had just come with me that day things woulda been so different. I would've pulled a nine to five job and we coulda settled down, but ya had to fuck everything up! You didn't even try to make a go of it. I had to come back and find you!" Lance regaled Justin with plans, ignoring the shouts from frantic police but still keeping the gun pressed into the boy's side to prevent the police from venturing any closer.

"We coulda been happy," he repeated as his finger pulled tighter on the trigger in an unbearable slowness until an agonizing pain rushed through him.

-----------------------------------------------

 

 Justin slumped to the floor in a torturous pain, barely able to hear the rush around him. Shouts from both Lance and the police filled the air as each fought frantically to win. Justin was oblivious to the noise that was gradually blurring to silence, the only sound that was important to him was JC's voice, begging him to open his eyes.

"Justin, please answer me. You're gonna be ok!" JC rushed to the backyard the second he saw Justin pulled to his feet.
"You're not gonna die!" he screamed, more so to himself to prevent himself from falling apart.

"You can't die Justin. You can't leave me without knowing how I feel about you. I love you Justin!" Tears poured from his anguished eyes, not letting go of Justin's hand until the paramedics loaded him into the ambulance.

"You bastard!" he cried at Lance who was sprawled on the floor, his hands cuffed behind his back.

"If Justin dies then you die to. I swear I'll kill you!" he shouted, before jumping into the ambulance to be at Justin's side, praying for the boy to be ok.

Justin warily opened his eyes into narrow slits, giving his surroundings a suspicious inspection. A figure flitted about the room, hurrying towards him upon seeing he was awake.

"Justin! Thank God you're awake. I thought I'd lost you for a minute there.. are you ok?" the figure babbled furiously as Justin looked him over.

Justin blinked slowly and let a tiny smile itch at his lips as he recognized the figure as being JC, before trailing a hand up to remove the annoyance of the oxygen mask.

"What happened?" he croaked out, barely finding his voice.

"He shot you." Justin was about to question further but memories suddenly washed back in a flood of pain.

"Oh God. Mom," he whispered, sobs succumbing him each one causing a sharp ache to his wound.

"Ssh. It's ok Justin. Everything will be alright now," JC soothed, gently picking up Justin's hand, wishing the boy's physical didn't prevent him from pulling Justin into a loving embrace. After all those nights staying beside his hospital bed JC wanted nothing more than to touch Justin and tell him he loved him, but first he had to be there for the boy to help him work through his grief.

"Where's Jon and-"

"Staying with you Grandparents. They're fine Justin, well physically at least but they're doin ok." Justin let silent tears roll down his cheeks in relief upon hearing his brothers were as well as could be expected. They were young and their scars had time to heal.

"What happened to Lance?" he forced himself to ask the dreaded question.

"Arrested. He'll get the death penalty for this, I'm tellin’ ya." Justin nodded; finally his ordeal was over.

 

He could start a new life without his mother but with his brothers. More importantly he could start anew with Josh.

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