Date: Tue, 03 Oct 2000 00:51:50 EDT From: Dara Lynn Subject: Boy bands/ No Painless Way, chapter 13 Hi guys! We're now getting into the last few chapters, and they're all kinda short. But there are some hopefully interesting twists coming up, so stick around! Thanks as always to David and Dennis, archivers extraordinaire, and my brilliant readers including Aph, Red, Jrok, Wen, Angel, Lora, Casey, Rick, Petra, Mitchell, Jim, Ann and RJ. Your opinions mean so much to me and I'm very grateful. PLUGS: You want to be reading SO much at this archive, but here's just a few: "A Tale of Two Boybands", "A Love Like This", "Little White Lies", "Devotion", "Tearing Up My Ass" (not just smut, there's real feeling here), "Decisions", "Nsync: Lance n JC", "Playing For Keeps" and "Intimate Stranger". And "Calming Waters"...more pleeease!!! :) DISCLAIMER: Don't know, own or mean to imply anything about any real people portrayed herein. This is fiction. You know the drill. ~NO PAINLESS WAY~ by DaraLynn Chapter 13 "Can you help me remember how to smile? Make it somehow all seem worthwhile?" - "Runaway Train", Soul Asylum (five hours later) The house was calmer now. That is to say, the screams had stopped, not the tears. J.C. sat by the living room phone, staring at it blankly. He had talked to Brian earlier, whose choked voice convinced J.C. further that the whole world was weeping. Now that the knowledge of what could be happening to Justin was sinking in, every second without him was like a knife in the heart for his loved ones. Forget emotional - the pain was physical, as if heartache meant what it sounded like. They all said repeatedly that they should be thankful that Justin was alive, but the fate he was enduring - was that much better than death? *Was* enduring. Every moment. J.C. wanted to tear the earth apart with his bare hands. He wanted to scream the betrayl and outrage that he felt, which there were no words for. Instead, he waited for the phone to ring, for the police to call. They didn't. The front door opened and Detective Murray walked in. J.C. leaped at him, but the officer spoke before he could. "I'll tell you what we know. But I need everyone together." With great haste and some noise, everyone present gathered nito the adjoining dining room and family room. At the table, on the couches and all around the two rooms anxiously sat four-fifths of 'Nsync, Paul and Lynn Harless, Randall and Lisa Timberlake, the 'Nsync bodyguards, two uniformed police officers and Diane Bass, who held Lance protectively. They all seemed torn between deeper despair and partial relief. They were now close to getting Justin back. He was alive, and that was the most important thing. Anything else, they could see him through. Or so they hoped. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Nick Carter shuffled slowly out of the bathroom into his bedroom. His best friend jmped up and guided the shaking singer to the bed. They sat down, and the blond leaned wearily against the older man. Brian rested his head on the silky hair, clutching a pale, clammy hand. "Nicky? You okay?" "The dream was right. God, why did it have to be right?" Brian blinked back tears. "At least they've got the kidnapper. They can get Justin back now...he's alive, at least." "He's wishing he wasn't right now." Brian turned his friend's head so he could look into the blue eyes. "How do you know that?" Nick breathed shakily. "Because I did." "Oh, Nicky..." Brian pulled him closer. "You don't feel that way *now*, do you?" "No. But that took time. Lou hasn't touched me for months and sometimes I can *still* feel his hands on me. I think sexual abuse is the deepest pain that can be inflicted. It never really goes away, no matter how much you heal. Too deep under the surface." "Nicky...there's something I wanted to ask you, but..." "You can ask me anything, Frick." Brian fidgeted nervously. "Did Lou ever...abuse you physically? Like, hit you? It's just...I guess part of the reason we never knew is because you never seemed to be hurt." Nick tensed only for a moment before relaxing against his friend. "No, he never hit me. I think in his twisted, sick mind he maybe thought I was actually enjoying it too. But I used to wish he would." Brian was shocked. "WHY?" "It's hard to explain. I guess 'cause I could have hated him for *that*, for something I could think of without feeling sick. And...this may sound stupid, but if he ever punched or slapped me I could have blamed him and him alone. Instead I felt like it was my fault, that I didn't even *fight*..." Brian gently rocked his sobbing friend, whispering soothing words to fight off the hysteria he sensed coming. When Nick calmed down, Brian spoke again. "Nick, you know it wasn't your fault, right?" The blond managed to smile a little. "Yeah, now I do. But that also takes time. I hope Justin will realize it too." "Frack, why do you think you had that dream anyway?" "I don't know. Maybe something was trying to warn us about what's happening to Justin, and it figured I'd be best able to handle it, since I've been there before." "God, I can't even imagine what that's like." "You're lucky you can't. It's the worst feeling in the world. Whatever the bastard says, however gently you're treated, you don't feel special or loved. You feel like the most worthless thing ever created. Not even worth your own thoughts and feelings. Not worth the choice. Nothing." Brian held the keeper of his heart protectively. "I'm so glad that's over for you," he murmured. "Yeah. I just wish it was for Justin." ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Justin stared numbly at the 'Nsync poster from where he sat huddled on the bed. His sad face wore a distracted expression, as though he'd never seen the five smiling young men in his life. Smiling. He could hardly remember how. It was the result of a feeling lost to Justin, something *other* people did. He remembered how he'd felt, how they had all felt the day that picture was taken. Justin remembered everything. It just all seemed worlds away now. His eyes rested on one figure in particular. //Josh. He was crying. I've never seen him cry. Josh, I'm so sorry I made you love me. All it's brought you is pain.// Footsteps approached in the stillness of the next room. //No, no more...// Justin buried his head in his arms, which rested on his knees. He trembled like a wounded animal as the intruder approached. "Justin? It's Rick. Are you okay?" The teenager looked up, shaking his head wordlessly. He did not smile, but seemed slightly relieved. Rick sighed with sorrow as he sat down on the bed. "Justin...I'm *so* sorry you have to go through this. I...God, how can anyone DO this?" The boy spoke softly, too low to be heard. "What was that?" "I can't go deep enough," Justin whispered. Rick frowned, wondering about the boy's mental state. "What do you mean?" "There's a place, inside my mind, where I could hide from all of this. If I could go there I wouldn't feel this...feel *him*. I get close, but I can't get in. It's too deep." Rick didn't say aloud what he was thinking. //As good as that may sound, kid, it's also dangerous. Hiding places don't last forever. Sooner or later you have to come out and deal with the pain. *That's* what makes or breaks you, kid, not what that sick fuck Elwood is doing to you. Don't you understand, Justin - if you live through this and someday laugh again, you beat him. Forget the battle - you win the war, despite all this. Cheap magic, maybe, but sometimes it's all we have.// Rick wanted to say this, but could only stare helplessly at his friend. The man was suddenly struck by the singer's silent beauty, by the prettiness that was not feminine but angelic. Rick shuddered with disgust at the idea of Elwood putting his hands on the gentle creature before him. //This is so WRONG!! It isn't just demeaning and sick; it's the desecration of something pure and wonderful, almost holy.// The last thought rang in his head like an epiphany. //I can't do this anymore.// Rick moved closer to Justin, who looked at him questioningly, and dropped his voice to a whisper. "Justin, I'm gonna try to get you out of here, okay? I'll contact the Orlando Police." The boy's face lit up, just for a moment. "You can't, Rick. He'll kill you." "He doesn't expect this of me. I'll be gone before he knows what's up. I just...I just *can't* let this happen anymore, not if i want to be able to live with myself. I want to die believing myself to be a good person. If I can save you from this...maybe I've got a shot." Justin smiled, the corners of his mouth turned up just slightly. "We *all* have a shot. You still do." Rick gently squeezed the boy's hand, his heart feeling lighter already. "I hope you're right. I gotta go now, okay? We'll meet again, I hope." He just stepped through the doorway when Justin spoke again. "Rick?" He turned back. "Thank you. You *are* a good person." Rick smiled tearfully at the boy, unable to put into words his gratitude for the absolution emanating from the angel's blue eyes. He nodded wordlessly, as he left his young friend for the last time. It wasn't until he reached the outside hallway and was dragged off by Elwood's security that he realized his mistake. He had forgotten about the cameras in Justin's room. ~to be continued~ I know, I know, I'm evil! :) Comments (no flames) cheerfully awaited at DaraLynn_writings@hotmail.com