Chapter Seven: The Unthinkable
Disclaimer: Again, not mine. Don't know. Didn't happen.
Author's note: Read with discression... I'm warning you, it's not pretty.
Important Author's Note: I'm sorry.
Here I am at six o'clock in the morning
Still thinking about you
It's still hard, at six o'clock in the morning
To sleep without you
And I know that it might
Seem too late for love
All I know
I need you now
More than words can say
I need you now
I've got to find a way
I need you now
Before I lose my mind
I need you now
Here I am, I'm looking out my window
I'm dreaming about you
Can't let you go, at six o'clcok in the morning
I feel you beside me
And I know that it might
Seem too late for love
For love Oh, Oh, Oh
I need you now
More than words can say
I need you now
I've got to find a way
I need you now
Before I lose my mind
I need you now
More than words can say
I need you now
Oh I got to hear you say
I need you now
Before I lose my mind
I need you now
I need you now
Lance slowly opened his eyes, swallowing a nasty taste in his mouth. His dreams had been blank and void of everything until a few minutes before, and colors seemed to shoot in from all sides until his world was a ball of light and his eyes were open. He blinked once, twice, and then followed the sound of the person singing to his right, where Justin was sitting beside him. Sort of. He was actually laying down in the opposite direction as Lance, so that his head was beside Lance's stomach, and his feet were up on the wall behind the bed. He was singing softly, the same song, over and over and over again. Lance allowed Justin's soothing, angelic voice to wash over him, and then decided to let Justin know he was awake.
"Justin?"
The feet on the wall crashed onto the bed with a thud as Justin sat up quickly. His eyes were wide and red, as if he'd been crying for quite some time. His jaw had fallen open, but despite that all, he was smiling.
"You're awake!" he exclaimed joyfully.
Lance smiled weakly. "I suppose. How long was I out for?"
Justin didn't hesitate. "Four hours and three minutes."
Lance's eyes widened in surprise at Justin's precision. "Are you alright?"
Justin placed his hand lightly on Lance's, which was on his stomach. "Yeah. Now I am. Are you okay?"
Lance shifted, a move that his bones protested and groaned at him for. "I was," he muttered. "Shit that hurts." He blinked a few times against the dull light in the room that the small beside lamp cast, and frowned up at Justin. "What happened?"
Justin swallowed hard. "You passed out."
Lance's free hand came up and touched his forehead. "Yeah. I was... sore. Tired. And then everything was just kinda spinning and..." he shook his head helplessly. "That's all I remember."
Justin sighed softly and shifted so they were facing the same direction, and then draped his own body across Lance's, covering him. Lance closed his eyes automatically. Justin always felt like the blankets that he was constantly wanting to hide under. It was nice, especially since Justin clutched back, unlike a blanket.
"What time is it?" Lance asked, peering past Justin's shoulder while trying to keep from moving too much.
"1:39," Justin answered automatically, resting his head on the pillow between Lance's shoulder and his head. "Get some sleep."
"Pull up the covers," Lance pleaded. Justin was a good cover, hell, he was a great cover, but Lance was still cold. With already closed eyes, Justin pulled the covers out from under them and then pulled them back up, enveloping them both instantly. "Thank you," Lance whispered.
Justin lightly kissed his cheek. "You're welcome. Night."
Lance smiled faintly. "Night."
"Oh, Lance?"
Justin froze when he heard Parker's silky smooth voice thread through the air and touch his ears. Lance, beside him, stiffened, slowly turning around to face him. Justin glared hatefully at Parker, picturing all the different ways that he could rip Parker limb from limb.
"Yeah?" Lance's low voice asked. He knew what was coming. Justin knew what was coming. Now all they could do was wait for the inevitable.
"I was wondering if you and Justin would like to go out."
They did a double take. Justin narrowed his eyes suspiciously at Parker. "What are you talking about?" he asked lowly, eyeing Parker. The other guys were already out the doors, and now it was just the three of them.
Parker smiled devilishly. "Do you happen to know anything about a boy named 'Ace', Justin?"
Lance tensed, and Justin deliberately placed a hand on his shoulder. "You mean that little bitch of yours that you brought in here a couple weeks ago?" he asked casually. Parker's eyes widened and lit.
"That's the one!" Parker sang happily. "Well, turns out he's been fucking your little friend Lance, too!"
Justin froze while Lance let out a small exclaimation. "That's a lie!" he exclaimed, horrified. "I-I never... I never did with Ace!"
Parker smiled. "Would you like to?"
Justin took a step towards Parker menacingly, but Lance stopped him. Justin was going to rip Parker's lips off so the bastard couldn't smile again, he swore he was! Just as soon as Lance moved out of the way.
"No," Lance stated coldly.
Parker smiled again playfully. "Did you ever stop to think, Lance, about how much Ace looks like Mr. Timberlake?"
Justin frowned while Lance stiffened in shock. Justin could feel it go through his body. He supposed the boy slightly resembled him, from what he could remember. Blond hair, blue eyes, probably a year younger than him, though. That had been all that he had been able to assess while the kid was making eyes at Lance and Justin was trying not to pop him.
"Big deal," Justin scoffed. "Lots of people have blond hair and blue eyes."
"And the same playful sense of humor and boyish adorableness with that light outlook on life and eyes that scream of mischief?" Parker continued to Lance, obviously enjoying his game.
Lance looked away.
Justin clenched his fist behind his back. "What's your point?" he snapped, getting antsy.
Parker laughed. "Jealous?" Justin took another step towards him, but again, Lance stepped quickly in the way. "I got news for ya, Timberlake," Parker taunted. "He's mine, now."
That was it. Justin shoved Lance out of the way and headed straight for Parker's throat. That was when the door banged open, and they all stopped and stared.
"Hey ba--Uhh... Hi."
Justin looked between Ace and Lance with narrowed eyes. Then he glanced at Parker, who was glaring at the look Ace was giving Lance. Lance had looked over at Ace when he walked in, but even as Justin watched, Lance slowly turned pleading eyes to Justin. Immediately Justin abandoned all attempts on Parker's life and crossed to Lance's side.
"Well," Justin began mock-brightly. "Parker, it's been real. We'll see you tomorrow--"
"Wait!" Parker objected with fake-hurt. "I thought you said you guys were going to double with us!"
"What?!" Ace exclaimed. They all looked at him to see him looking between Lance and Justin with wide eyes. Ace cleared his throat and recovered after a moment. Justin narrowed his eyes at the boy in the door, not thinking that he looked anything like Justin. For one, his hair wasn't even slightly curly. It was exactly like Lance's! And two, the kid was too thin. And way too tan. Plus, Justin was just better looking.
No, he wasn't bitter at all about the look that Lance and Ace shared.
"How long have you two been together?" Ace finally asked, his voice sounding strained.
"Get this, babe, they've been together for two years," Parker told him, awed. Justin felt Lance stiffen. "Can you believe that?"
Ace's eyes narrowed on Lance. "Nope."
Parker clapped his hands together. "Well, we were going to hit a club," Parker told Lance and Justin brightly. "So are you two ready?"
Justin felt Lance stiffen. "Yeah," Lance agreed, his voice low. "We're ready."
Justin looked down at him.
The club was smoky and reeked of bad liquor. Lance almost gagged just upon entry, and if not for Justin's hand on his back, he would have dashed out of that place no matter what consequences Parker would give him. The place was quite frankly nausiating, and he was having a hard time keeping up with Parker, who had an arm wrapped firmly around Ace. Ace, who kept shooting him betrayed looks. Lance simply avoided him and tried to curl up in Justin as much as possible. Justin honestly didn't seem to mind. He actually seemed to be trying to cover Lance as much as possible, which was such a nice relief. Justin was shielding him from any harm.
They found a table on the second floor in the back, hardly lit corner. It terrified Lance to be that far back, away from everyone, with the man who raped him almost daily, but Justin took the seat beside Parker, putting Lance on the end. As soon as they sat, Justin's arm went around Lance's shoulders, holding them close together protectively. Lance slumped there, avoiding eye contact with everyone except Justin and inanimate objects.
"Anything look good?" Parker asked cheerfully, as if he couldn't feel the thick tension that hung over the table. Lance dutifully picked up the menu that Justin was already looking at.
"I could use a good, hard shot," Justin muttered. Lance frowned up at him. "I think my id's still in my wallet--"
"I threw it out," Lance interrupted. Justin's jaw fell in disbelief and anger. "When we were in... Umm... Nebraska, I think. When Joey got lost in the corn fields and Chris got caught in the electric fence area and JC got stranded by the side of the road with the crazy taxi man? You and I were at the stage setting up and we went out for drinks and you ordered a vodka and when you went to the bathroom I threw out your id."
Justin looked indignant. "Why did you--"
"If you want you can go back and ruffle through their garbage," Lance offered. "I bet they still keep it around for two and a half months."
Justin glared down at him. "Do you know how difficult it was to find someone willing to get a famous person a fake id--"
"Of course I know," Lance injected irritably. He didn't want to argue with Justin, but with Parker sitting right there and Ace right across from him, he was having a hard time not yelling. He was taking his anger out on Justin and he knew it, but he didn't care, just so long as he didn't have to look at Parker or Ace.
Justin groaned and rubbed his forehead. "C'mon," he sighed, giving Lance a little shove. Lance frowned in confusion as they stood, Justin hooking an arm around his waist. "Get us two Cokes and those cheese-burgers. We're dancing." Lance was led away before Parker or Ace could protest.
As soon as they were down the stairs, Lance slumped into Justin's arms. Justin held him tightly, practically holding him up as he led him out to the dance floor. "What're you doing?" Lance asked, frowning. He would have thought that they were going to go retreat in some corner, but Justin was actually taking him to the dance floor. They were famous! There were different rules to abide by. God, if anyone saw them...
"Dancing with you," Justin told him softly, in a voice that Lance had never heard before and yet wouldn't mind hearing for the rest of his life. The hairs on the back of his neck rose while he tried to maintain some semblance of composure, despite the tickles and shivers cascading down his body.
"Justin, we can't--" Lance protested weakly, even as Justin drew him into his arms.
"Look around, Lance, we fit in just fine."
Lance did as he was told, his jaw falling when he noticed for the first time that the club was full of guys, none of whom were paying attention to him. How he had missed this was beyond him, but he had somehow. Probably because he was so intent on following Parker and keeping his head down. But Jesus. They were in a gay bar! What if someone recognized them?!
"Shhh..." Justin soothed softly when Lance let out a soft whimper of worry. Lance looked up at him through concerned eyes, only to be met by Justin's light ones. "It's okay," he whispered gently, pulling Lance towards him. Lance hesitantly allowed his chin to fall to Justin's shoulder. Justin laughed softly and held him tightly, hooking his fingers through Lance's belt loops. Lance held his hands up along Justin's back, resting his cheek on Justin's shoulder.
A soft sigh escaped past Justin's lips, and Lance snuggled in deeper, letting a sigh of his own slip out. Justin lightly brushed his lips against Lance's cheek. They remained there, locked in each other's embrace, for god knew how long. What Lance knew was that one minute he was dizzy, intoxicated and surrounded by everything Justin and angelic, and the next minute, Justin was freezing.
"Caught," Justin murmured softly. Lance tensed. "It's okay. We can get through this, Lance. We're together." He pulled Lance flush up against him tightly in a hug. "We can do anything together."
Lance took a deep breath and pulled away from Justin as Parker approached them, smiling devilishly.
"You two look awfully cozy," Parker taunted, his voice dripping with sweetness. Lance shuddered and clutched Justin's hand, conveniently placed in his own.
"Well, what do you expect?" Justin asked easily, his voice daring and bitingly hard. "We've been together for two years, right?"
Parker shrugged mischeviously. "D'you mind if I cut in?"
"Actually, I do," Justin snapped, wrapping his arms protectively around Lance. The hand he held Lance's with he wrapped over Lance's shoulder, and his free arm he wrapped around Lance's waist. Lance felt almost like he was in a safety harness of sorts. And surprisingly enough, it was nice.
"Really?" Parker asked, sounding interested. "Since you two are so close, you won't mind sharing a kiss for me, right?"
Justin narrowed his eyes. "Where're the camera's?"
"No camera's," Parker promised. Lance didn't blame Justin for scoffing. He found himself looking up around the club, searching for the camera. "I want a kiss." He reached out and lightly grabbed Lance's arm. Lance jumped and let out a soft yelp, and not a second later, Lance was behind Justin, who was acting as a human shield between Parker and Lance. Justin had his fist closed around Parker's collar, and he was glaring darkly at him.
"Don't you ever fucking touch him in my presense again, you understand?" Justin asked, in a voice so low and dangerous that even Lance trembled. Parker's eyes flashed in fear, and then they narrowed angrily.
"Unless you want your little boy toy to get hurt badly, I suggest that you kiss. Now."
Justin smiled darkly. "With pleasure," he sneered, then turned to face Lance. Lance nervously met Justin's eyes. "Trust me," Justin whispered softly. Lance nodded slightly, and after locking eyes with him for a moment longer, Justin slowly brought his mouth down to meet Lance's.
It was a slow, long, involved kiss, one that left Lance breathless and clinging desperately to Justin's shoulders. The kiss was gentle and sweet, not lacking passion but not ruling it, either. There was an underlying harmony in the way that they worked together. They melded and blended until Lance forgot who was who.
When they pulled back, their eyes met, and they stared at each other until Justin finally looked away, smirking at Parker, who was glaring at them. "Sufficient?" Justin asked, arching an eyebrow. "By all means, say no." He wrapped an arm around Lance, holding him possessively. "I double dare you."
Parker's eyes narrowed into slits so small Lance wondered how he could see out of them. "Dinner's at the table," he snapped coldly, turning on his heel and going up the stairs. Lance started to follow him, but Justin didn't move, and Lance wasn't going anywhere without him, especially not up there.
"Are you alright?" Justin asked softly, gazing down into Lance's eyes with his cerulean blue ones. He was searching Lance's eyes almost desperately.
"Yeah," Lance answered, clearing his throat. "I-I mean, I'm fine. No big deal, right?"
Justin looked away. "Right."
Lance stared up at him. "Justin--" he began worriedly, frowning slightly.
"Let's go," Justin urged gently. "Before the fucker comes back." He kept a firm grip on Lance as they made their way back through the dance floor and up the stairs to the second floor, and Lance's dreaded fate. With each step that they took up, Lance clung tighter and tighter to Justin's hand, until Justin pulled him around the corner and into one of the deserted back hallways, tugging Lance into his embrace. "It's okay," he whispered softly. "It's okay, Lance. I'm here. I'm not going to let him touch you."
Lance ached for Justin's lips to touch his again, to create that warm haze and sparklers that shot off everywhere. He also desperately didn't want to go back to that table and try to make conversation with the boy that he had almost started something with, the boy that was raping him, and the boy that had become his deemed guardian angel and protector. He wanted to go home, to his own home, and curl up in bed with the covers over his head. It was a common dream he had, one that he hoped to fulfil some day.
"We gotta go," Lance finally muttered, blinking away tears of helplessness. He just wanted to go home.
"It's okay, Lance," he cooed. "As soon as this is over, we're going to go home... To your home, and we're not going to move all weekend. I promise."
Lance dropped his head to Justin's chest, letting Justin rub his arms soothingly before they stood straight and made their way out to the table, holding hands.
"Sorry," Justin apologized brightly as they rejoined the two who were staring suspiciously at them. "Had to find a dark hallway. I'm sure you guys understand." He dropped into the seat beside Parker and flashed a grin. "He's adorable." He purposefully smiled at Parker. "Sometimes it's hard to believe that he's mine."
Lance's hand on Justin's tightened, and Justin casually reached an arm around Lance's shoulders. "Love you, baby," Justin cooed, loudly enough that Parker and Ace could hear. Then he deliberately kissed Lance's cheek and flashed an "embarassed" grin at the other two at the table. "I'm such a sap, I know, but I am a sucker for this one."
"I can understand that," Parker agreed conversationally. Lance stiffened slightly, his fingers squeezing Justin's, and stared at the food on the table that no one was touching.
Justin laughed out loud. "Trust me, Park, most people can. But he's all mine, aren't you, baby?" He nuzzled Lance's neck playfully.
Parker's eyes were blazing furiously, and Lance wondered if Justin knew just how much trouble he was getting Lance into. Justin probably didn't, but his heart was in the right spot. He was only trying to help. Unfortunately, Justin's help was probably going to get him beat... The thought made him shudder as he recalled all too well the feel of Parker's fists in his stomach, pounding away as though Parker were a fucking butcher and he was meat to be tenderized.
"All yours," Lance agreed softly, avoiding everyone's eyes except for Justin's. Justin smiled at him and then studied the burger.
"Looks great," he carolled happily. "I am so famished, I tell you! Dancing is exhausting!" He laughed. "Though I suppose you know that, don't cha, Park?"
Parker glared at him. "I know."
Lance nervously grabbed his Coke, sucking on the straw and hesitantly looking up. Parker was staring at his mouth, sucking on the Coke, and Lance was so caught off guard that he started choking. Justin immediately took the glass and began thumping Lance lightly on the back, which made more tears of pain spring to his eyes because of the cuts on his back. He coughed for several more seconds, and then managed to calm down, his eyes watery and red. His heart thudded at a dangerously rapid pace as he gasped for air. He could only vaguely feel Justin's arms around him, and suddenly, the tears in his eyes weren't just from the pain. He just wanted to go home. He was utterly helpless and in the worst situation possible. He just wanted to go home.
Lance wasn't sure how it happened, but one second Justin was reaching for a napkin to hand to Lance, and the next, the Coke itself was on Lance's lap. "Oh my god!" Justin exclaimed, sounding horrified. "Lance, I'm so sorry!" He snatched up several more napkins and pressed them on Lance's leg while Lance shivered against the cold sensation. Could this night get any worse? And since when did Justin become clumsy? "Shit, there's no way this is going to get dry," Justin drawled, shaking his head. He turned to Parker and Ace. "Guys, we're gonna have to cut out. I'm so sorry. But hey, we'll see you in the studio on Monday, right?" He didn't wait for an answer before he was shoving Lance out of the seat. He yanked a couple twenties out of his wallet and tossed them onto the table while Lance stood there, shivering and shaking and clinging to Justin's arm. "It was fun. Bye!" Justin grabbed Lance and practically dragged him down the stairs and out of the club. They raced to the door, Justin glancing over their shoulders every few seconds. They hurried to the car, which Justin was unlocking even as they approached it.
"Get in," Justin ordered urgently, glancing back at the club. Lance jumped into the car, finally realizing why Justin had just had a Joey-attack with the Coke, and unlocked the doors for Justin to get in. As soon as Justin's door was open, however, he was compulsively locking the doors again. Justin had the car in gear and was squealing out of the parking lot before his door was even shut completely.
"I'm sorry about the drink," Justin told him immediately. "I just had to get us out of there. If he looked at you one more time I was going to rip his eyes out. Maybe just stab 'em with a fork, but it wouldn't have been pretty. Are you alright?"
Lance looked down at his wet jeans, over at Justin who was trying to be so helpful and just secured Lance's future as black and blue, and then thought about the bruises and welts on his body that still weren't healed, and lost control.
He sobbed hysterically, covering his face with his hands as he leaned his elbows on his Coke-stained knees. He was vaguely aware of Justin begging him to stop, but he was beyond hearing Justin. He just wanted to cry. He wanted to pour his soul into those sobs that didn't stop until they pulled up to Lance's house. They'd finally brought his car home, with a little help from Joey and Chris.
Justin helped Lance out, because Lance couldn't even hold his head up anymore. He was so exhausted and terrified and scared that his entire body was weak. He continued to cry as Justin picked him up and carried him up the stone stairs with an ease and grace that few would have been able to pull off. When they reached the front door, Justin used a key from his own keychain and unlocked it.
"How did you--?" Lance started, sniffling as he watched Justin put his keys back in his pocket.
"I took it from you when you first moved in," Justin interrupted softly. "It's okay, Lance. Just rest."
"I need a shower," Lance whimpered. Justin carried him easily down the hallways to the bedroom area.
"You want one?" Justin asked. "You can have whatever you want."
"I want a shower," Lance pleaded. The idea of the warm hot water engulfing his body and keeping him warm and shielding him from harm was just too appetizing to pass up.
"Okay," Justin agreed, pushing open the bathroom door and setting Lance carefully on the counter. He set about filling up the tub with warm water while Lance watched, drawing his knees to his chest and leaning back against the mirror. Justin was beautiful. He really was. His muscles were smooth and perfect through the tight tee shirt he was wearing, pulled taunt by the way he stretched. His muscles flexed as he turned and twisted the knobs, trying to find a decent temperature. Lance was so captivated, in fact, by Justin's body, that he didn't notice when Justin turned around until Justin was blatantly staring back at him. Lance blushed and looked down until he heard Justin. "You know, it doesn't bug me," he offered. Lance flushed and looked up, startled to see the steam from the bathroom puffing up from behind Justin, giving him an angelic halo all around his body. Lance could only stare at him, utterly transfixed. Justin really did look like a golden angel. Justin arched an eyebrow. "You okay? You look pale."
"I think I'm gonna be sick," Lance muttered, practically falling off the countertop as he crawled for the toilet. Sure enough, a minute later, he was dry heaving into the porcelain bowl. His stomach was empty, so he wasn't sure what he'd been expecting. It hurt and ached until he felt like he was trying to cough up his internal organs, and then the pain finally subsided and Lance sank wearily against the side of the tub, exhausted.
"I think it's ready," Justin told him softly, one of his hands on Lance's back and the other touching the water that had filled the tub. "Can you do this alone or do you want me to stay?"
"I'm okay," Lance told him, flushing at the idea of Justin staying there.
"Are you sure?" Justin pestered warily. "I think if I stayed--"
"I'm fine," Lance interrupted firmly, flashing with annoyance. Justin hesitated, then nodded slowly.
"If you need me, I'm in your room," he reminded gently. He hesitated again, placed a hand on Lance's shoulder, and then turned and walked out, leaving the door open a crack. Lance stared at it for a second before shutting the door and locking it, and then just laying on his aching stomach on the ground, staring at the base of the toilet as he breathed. He felt empty inside. Nothing felt real anymore. Nothing. He just wanted to sleep. Sleep was good. He liked sleep.
Sleeping permanently would be nice, too.
Justin was asleep. Lance could tell by his even breathing. He carefully detached himself from the firm blanket that Justin had become. He had an idea... Just a small one. He just wanted to see. He just wanted to make sure.
He silently padded into the kitchen, flipping on the chandelier's dimmer and turning it to its dullest ability, casting a low light over the entire kitchen. His eyes settled on the knife drawer, and working on auto-pilot, he stepped to the drawer until his fingers closed around the handle, and slowly he pulled, hearing every little sound the drawer made magnified in his ears fifty times. He didn't want Justin to wake up. He wanted this to be done by the time Justin opened his beautiful blue eyes.
Lance carefully removed the small, flat knife that he kept for JC out of the drawer. JC called it a 'parring knife' or something like that. Right now, as Lance held it up to the diluted light in the kitchen and the soft white glow of the moonlight that glinted off of the silver, it only represented a release... A test. He just wanted to make sure.
He lifted the knife slowly, watching as it pressed against the inner flesh of his wrist, indenting it. He felt nothing. He dug it in further. Nothing. The tendons below the surface that a few veins crossed over strained and stressed, and for a moment, Lance wondered what would happen if he cut those. But no, he wasn't suicidal. He just wanted to bleed.
With a small hiss, Lance dragged a forth of an inch of the tip of the knife into his arm, on the side of his tendon that was closest to his thumb. He gave a terrified gasp of pain, watching as a large pool and gush of blood slid out over his arm, dripping along either side of it as he stared, utterly transfixed. It hurt. Oh god, it ached and throbbed like nothing he had ever felt before in his life. But he wanted to cut himself. He wanted to see real blood. He wanted to make sure that somewhere within his shell of a body, someone still lived. Someone who could feel. He didn't know who that someone was anymore, but they were in there, because his arm ached painfully.
"Lance!"
Lance was so startled at the yelp of panic that he dropped the knife and jumped a foot in the air, staring with wide, horrified eyes at Justin, who was standing in the doorway, giving Lance's arm the same look Lance was giving Justin.
"Oh god, baby, what've you done?" Justin breathed, his voice shaking as he hurried forward, snatching a towel off of the counter top and quickly wrapping it around Lance's gushing arm. It wasn't enough, though. The two-inch long cut was bleeding profusely, and the towel was soaked in a matter of minutes. "Oh god, oh god," Justin panicked, snatching for a towels. "Lance, what did you do? Jesus Christ, what're you trying to do?"
"I wasn't trying to kill myself," Lance told him, faltering weakly. "I-I just... I just wanted to see... I just wanted to--"
"See what?" Justin snarled, his voice coated with tears that he had yet to cry. "See what your insides look like? What torn flesh resembles? What it's like to watch me fall to pieces? This isn't fun, Lance!" Justin screamed. Lance flinched and turned away, his arm throbbing in protest with every ounce of pressure Justin put on it. "Jesus Christ, I can't stop the bleeding! I don't even know if you need stitches..." He was madly grabbing for towels of any sort, and as soon as one was soaked he snatched up another one. He glared into Lance's eyes. "How dare you do this?"
Lance swallowed doggedly. "I just wanted to make sure," he whispered. "I wanted to see that I was still alive, Justin. I-I don't feel anything, anymore. I'm empty. I just wanted to make sure that I'm still in here, someplace, and that I can feel something. Anything. I didn't try to kill myself."
"I feel you," Justin whispered brokenly, still moping at the endless run of blood. "I feel every breath that runs through your body. I feel it every time the fucking sun hides its face because you aren't smiling! I feel your every accomplishment, your every fail. And you dare try to pull this?"
"I just wanted to make sure," Lance sobbed, slumping his shoulders. "I wasn't trying to kill myself!"
"I can't stop it!" Justin panicked. "Jesus, I can't make it stop bleeding! Oh god, oh god. No no no. I won't lose you, Lance. Not this way. Not this fucking cheap ass way out, do you hear me?" He grabbed Lance's shoulders and gave him a rough shake. "Don't you dare wimp out on me! You aren't dying yet, you understand? I just found you, and I am not giving you up!"
Lance flinched. "Justin, you're hurting me."
"I'm going to do a lot more than that when this god damn wound stops bleeding!" Justin shouted at him. His voice broke. "I'm going to hurt you, Lance. Please forgive me." And then Justin's hand was clamping down around the cut over the towel, forcing it shut. Lance howled in pain, trying to shove Justin off. He felt that. The pain was blinding and real... As much as it hurt and he screamed and tried to get Justin to let him go, it was pain and it was real and he was real, and he wasn't dead. He could still bleed. There was still something inside of him to bleed.
"I'm okay," Lance whispered to himself. He felt Justin's confusion, but he simply smiled and laughed in relief. "I'm still here. I still fucking exist."
"Sometimes," Justin began softly, lightly stroking his fingers up and down Lance's arm. "I feel like all I am is a one dimensional character on the television screen. It feels so fake and phony and untrue, that all I want to do is prove that I'm alive."
Lance nodded slowly against Justin's chest. He was laying on top of Justin, on his back on Justin's stomach, and inbetween Justin's legs as they lay on the bed together. It had taken twenty minutes for the bleeding to stop, and by that time, Lance was much whiter than normal. Justin had wanted to go to the hospital, but Lance had told him that if he tried to take him to the hospital than he'd kick him out. Justin had been reluctant, but he had eventually complied with Lance's wishes. He'd bandaged Lance up and then carried him back to bed, wrapping both arms firmly around him as if afraid to let him go.
"Which is how you got this," Lance concluded softly, lightly running his finger over Justin's upper thigh, where his boxers and pants covered. He didn't have to see it to know exactly where it was. He'd seen it once and the image was forever burned into his memory.
Justin swallowed. "Yeah. I did it about four months ago. I just... I needed to bleed. I needed to hurt. I needed something. If you stab the tv, nothing happens short of breaking some things and possibly getting electrocuted. If you stab me, I proved that I bleed."
"You're not one dimensional. And you're not phony. You are alive." Lance sighed softly, resting his head back against Justin's shoulder. "You're an angel. You're the closest thing to an angel that I've ever seen."
Justin shook his head. "I'm nothing of the sort. You... You are one step below the heavens. I know they exist because I can see them in your eyes." He sighed quietly. "Sometimes, when we were younger and got put into rooms together 'cause Joey and Chris wanted to be in the same room, I'd just listen to you breathe after you fell asleep, because I knew that only people who were alive breathed, and I wanted to make sure that you were always alive." His voice lowered to something softer than a whisper, as if he were embarassed or ashamed of what he was about to say. "There would be no point in living if you weren't here." Slowly he lifted Lance's sore, bandaged arm, and lightly brushed his fingers over the bandaging. "Never again, Lance. Don't think I won't do it, too."
Lance closed his eyes against the sudden flood of tears that built up behind his eyes. "Justin," he whispered softly. "Please, don't."
Justin was trembling. "I've never been more scared in my life than when I saw you in there, bleeding, and just staring at your hand. I don't want to ever be without you, Lance. I can't." He hesitated, then slowly went on. "I don't want to be anyplace you aren't. I need you. Even this past year, when we were fighting more than we ever have before, I always had to know exactly where you were. I need you. Sometimes I scare the shit out of myself thinking about how much I need you."
Lance rolled over so that he was stomach to stomach with Justin, and gazed into those bright blue eyes, smoldering with... Something. Some emotion that Lance couldn't place. Slowly, he placed his head beside Justin's on the pillow, gingerly testing how his body felt this close to Justin's, in this intimate of a surrounding.
It was... Nice.
"I need you," Lance whispered back softly to him. "I love you, Justin."
A shudder went through Justin's body, and around Lance's back, Justin's arms tightened their grip. "I love you, too, Lance," Justin whispered back. Lance smiled into the pillow and then closed his eyes.
Justin was exhausted. Lance had been having nightmares for the past two nights, and while his favorite place to sit was in Justin's lap, he was very jumpy and kept looking around with this haunted expression. Justin wanted to ease all of Lance's fears and nightmares, but he couldn't. He didn't even know where to begin. So neither one of them had gotten very much sleep that weekend, and it was already Monday and Parker was all over Lance. But he wasn't just all over Lance, he was all over Lance. So much so that even the other guys noticed. They also noticed the pointed, dangerous glares Parker kept giving Justin. Justin swore to god that he was going to beat the shit out of him. Some day, he was just going to kill Parker.
"Justin, Lance, if you two could stay behind a few minutes?" Parker requested smoothly. "I'd like to go over some moves with you both."
Justin gritted his teeth. He had nightmares about what kind of moves Parker wanted to show Lance. He gripped Lance's shoulder protectively as the other guys filed out, calling goodbyes. As soon as they were gone, Parker shook his head mock-sadly.
"Ace was very upset on Friday," he admonished, spreading blankets out on the floor while Justin watched with a sick feeling. "He hated you, Justin, and he's very jealous that you got to Lance instead of him." Parker smiled at Lance. "How does it feel to have three guys after you, all at the same time?"
Lance didn't answer.
"So far," Parker drawled, looking up at Justin. "Only he's gotten you." Justin's lip curled as Parker smiled gently at Lance. "But now it's my turn, babe."
Lance trembled.
"Come here," Parker cooed, holding out a hand for Lance to take. Lance stepped forward automatically, but Justin yanked him back, meeting Parker's dark look with a glare of his own.
"Justin, go out to the car," Lance begged quietly, unable to meet his eyes. "I'll meet you out there when we're done."
"No," Parker objected innocently. "Justin, stay. Watch." He flashed a grin. "Join."
Justin didn't know what to do. Every cell in his body longed to throw Lance over his shoulder and carry him out of there, but he knew he couldn't. However, there was no way that he could watch Parker rape Lance without ripping Parker's dick off. Literally.
Parker shrugged. "You're the one who said you wanted him. You said he belonged to you. Well fine. Sit your ass down and watch what really happens when a man gets to him."
Justin sneered at him. "You actually think I'm going to sit here and watch you rape him?" he asked in disgusted disbelief. "You're out of your mind."
"I know," Parker sighed dreamily. "I could offer to have you chained up," he suggested. His eyes glinted. "Or I could just say that if you don't, I'll torture 'what's yours' until you can't even recognize him."
Lance's trembling became more pronounced.
"No," Justin spat. "I will not sit here and let you do this."
Parker stepped forward and took Lance's hand. "Oh, I think you will." In one swift movement, Lance was somehow in Parker's arms, and there was a fucking knife against Lance's throat. "You wanna sit, now?"
"Fuck," Justin hissed, his eyes widening in horror. He backed up against the wall and slowly slid down it, his breathing shallow as he stared at Lance, who had his eyes closed.
"Atta boy!" Parker sang cheerfully, guiding him to the blanketed area. "Now this is the really fun part. Watch how he obeys on command!" He nudged the knife against Lance's throat a little. "Strip."
Lance's jaw clenched, but he did as he was instructed. Justin was nausious from the first button he undid, and by the time Lance was naked, actually fully naked, Justin was pretty sure he was going to hurl.
"All fours," Parker sang. Lance winced, and Justin knew that the bruises on his body were aching. Parker's pants were down seconds later, and Justin closed his eyes and turned away, wishing that he were dead instead of having to listen or see this. "Oh no," Parker warned. "You open your eyes and you stare into his green ones, because every time I see one of you looking away from each other, I'm going to cut him." To emphasize his point, he dragged the knife across Lance's back, leaving a large, painful welt and small trail of blood.
A knife. Not fingernail marks. A knife trail! The bastard had been using a fucking knife on Lance's back! With horrified eyes, Justin watched the knife as it trailed a thin line down Lance's flesh. Lance's eyes were unfocused, dilated, and Justin knew that he wasn't there. He was in some far away place, where his mind could hide. Justin tried to follow him as he stared into Lance's eyes, his own filling with tears as he watched his friend be brutalized in the worst way possible. Something happened, and Lance clenched his eyes and looked away. Unfortunately, Parker saw, and Lance gave a gasp of pain as the knife slit his back. Justin was almost to his feet when Parker panted, "Another cut if you move one more fucking inch!"
Justin sank back down, helpless tears streaming down his cheeks. He couldn't watch anymore. He couldn't. He could feel the pain that Lance wasn't, with every thrust Parker pushed into Lance's battered body. Lance... The man that he'd been in love with since he could remember. Being fucking raped right before his god damn eyes and he couldn't do anything about it! He had never felt more useless in his entire life, and he was unable to stop the tears. He couldn't watch this. He couldn't.
Parker came with a wild scream, and as he pulled out of Lance, Lance finally flopped onto the ground, exhausted. If he hadn't been breathing, Justin was sure he would have thought Lance was dead.
Parker rebuckled his pants and smiled in some sick, sadistic satisfaction. "Well?" he panted cheerfully. "What did you think?"
"I think that some day I'm going to rip your fucking dick off and make you eat it."
Parker's knife sliced across Lance's back in one swift movement. Lance let out nothing more than a soft whimper. Justin was the one who felt the slash as if it were in his own skin. He was crying openly, never hating anyone more in his entire life. He truly wanted to kill Parker. He had never wanted to kill anyone more in his entire life. Their careers weren't worth this. They weren't worth it at all.
"I've got an idea," Parker exclaimed happily. "Oh, this is a fun idea, Justin. One I'm sure that you'll enjoy!"
Justin gritted his teeth in hatetred but said nothing.
"Oh yes," Parker continued giddily. "You'll just love this! Come here, come here!" He waved Justin over, but Justin just looked at him until the knife came dangerously close to Lance's already marred skin. Then he slowly made his way to the blankets, glaring at Parker in disgust. "Okay. Sit here." Parker pointed to an area on the blankets beside Lance. Justin slowly sank down, placing his hand on Lance's bare back, causing Lance to shudder. Justin winced and glared up at Parker again, his eyes filled with tears and hate. He hated Parker. He hated him with a rage that no one in the history of the world could ever have felt before.
"Now, fuck him."
Justin stared at Parker incredulously, praying that he hadn't heard what he thought he had. "What?" he whispered hoarsely, sitting rooted to his seat. Parker couldn't ask him to... God, he couldn't hurt Lance. He wouldn't hurt Lance. Ever. He was beyond sick to his stomach, and now he was on the brink of throwing up.
Parker bared his teeth in a malicious smile. "You heard me," he told Justin tauntingly. He nodded at Lance. "Fuck him."
Justin's eyes slowly trailed from Parker's face to where Lance lay naked on the floor, now sprawled out after the severe thrashing he had just been through. He cleared his throat past his tears, swallowing hard. "No," he choked out, trying to be strong and firm. His heart broke at the sight of Lance, and all he wanted to do was to gather him up into his arms and never let him go again... He had promised Lance that he would protect him and he had lied. But Parker would not make Justin rape Lance. He would not do it. He would call up the fucking media himself and give them the god damn pictures Parker threatened them with before he would even unbuckle his pants.
"No?" Parker repeated, arching an eyebrow in amusement. "Would you rather watch me fuck him again?"
Justin clenched his teeth. "You're going to either way," he snapped. "But I will not rape my best friend." He couldn't. Lance turned to him after Parker hurt him. If he raped Lance, Lance would consider him an attacker... Another abuser. And Lance would run from him. Justin wouldn't be able to handle it. He wouldn't be able to take Lance running from him. He would sooner die.
"Hear that, Lance?" Parker sneered. "He doesn't want you! No one wants your worthless self!"
Justin sat up straight, glaring hatefully at Parker. "I didn't say that you sick fuck!" he hissed furiously. "I said I wouldn't rape him!"
"Justin."
Justin's eyes snapped to the floor, his eye sight swimming as he saw his best friend attempting to get up from the ground. He had been brutalized so horribly, however, that it was an almost impossible task. Before Justin knew what he was doing, he pulling Lance up and into his arms. Justin ignored that Lance was naked, trying to cover as much of Lance's body as he could.
"Perhaps you'd like the media to get those pictures?" Parker taunted. "Or maybe you'd like me to have you both fired for being gay?"
Justin ignored him completely. "Lance?" he whispered softly. Lance's hands clung so weakly to him. He wasn't even sure how his friend was still conscious. "Lance, please..."
Somehow, Lance gathered up enough strength and pushed back from Justin, who held onto his arms tightly to help keep him up. "Justin," Lance whispered. "There's worse things."
Justin's eyes flooded with tears that spilled out over his cheeks. "No," he pleaded softly, his voice thick with tears as his heart ached for his best friend. "Lance, no." He lifted his hand and cupped Lance's cheek. "Please, Lance, not you. Please not you." He could feel the hysterics building up in his chest, and he swallowed and sniffed to try and keep them down. "I can't hurt you, Lance. I can't rape you."
Lance was leaning into Justin's palm with his eyes closed, and slowly he opened his eyes. "I won't say no," he promised softly. "It won't be rape."
A choked sob escaped past Justin's lips, and he lowered his forehead to Lance's, clutching him tightly. "No," he begged. "Please, Lance. No. I-I can't."
"See?" Parker demanded giddily. "He doesn't want you, Lance. He could never want you! You revolt him!"
Justin's stomach tightened and he gave a small shudder of fury as he pulled back from Lance just enough to glare hatefully into Parker's eyes. The smile on Parker's lips died away as Justin glared at him. Parker glared back.
"Down," Parker barked at Lance. "Now. You," he snapped at Justin. "Fuck him. Now."
The next few minutes were a blur to Justin. One minute he was holding Lance, and the next, somehow, he was naked and on top of Lance, who was laying on the ground on his stomach. Justin was crying, he knew that much, but his mind had shut down, and he found himself someplace else... Someplace where he wasn't raping Lance. Someplace where the world didn't exist.
"I'm sorry," Justin sobbed, even as he was inside of Lance, who was laying limp on the floor. His hands sought Lance's, sprawled up by their heads, and intertwined their fingers. Lance's eyes were open, unfocused, as he stared off into space. He looked like he wasn't even there, and Justin... Justin was the one doing that to him. He was raping the only person he'd ever truly loved. "Lance, I'm so sorry," Justin sobbed, and then, in an act of desperation, found Lance's mouth with his own.
He came screaming Lance's name.
~~~~End Part Seven~~~~
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