Date: Tue, 30 Jul 2002 18:06:42 -0400
From: Writer Boy <writerboy69@hotmail.com>
Subject: jc's hitchhiker - part 110

Obligatory warnings and disclaimers:

1) If reading this is in any way illegal where you are or at your age, or
you don't want to read about male/male relationships, go away. You
shouldn't be here.

2) I don't know any of the celebrities in this story, and this story in no
way is meant to imply anything about their sexualities, personalities, or
anything else.  This is a work of pure fiction.

Questions and commentary can be sent to "writerboy69@hotmail.com". I enjoy
constructive criticism, praise, and rational discussion. I do not enjoy
flames, and will not tolerate them.

That said, on with Season 7.

***Lance***

Lance was happy to see Jack, but he needed to pee really badly, and, as
he'd said, he'd see him on the bus. He'd already gotten changed, and knew
that Justin would be finished changing soon. By unspoken agreement, Justin
would just sit in the room, and wait for Lance to come back, so that they
could walk out to the bus together. He would have been comfortable walking
with any of the other guys, besides Joey, but he preferred Lance, and Lance
didn't want to disappoint him. The tour was hard for Justin, the same way
everything was hard for Justin, and Lance wanted to do whatever he could to
make it easier on him. He pushed into the bathroom and was surprised to see
Chad in front of the sinks, apparently crying, with a wad of tissues
clutched in his hands.

"Chad?" Lance asked, walking over. Chad turned away, throwing a quick smile
toward Lance and wiping at his face with the back of his wrist. "You ok?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," Chad answered, tossing the tissues in the garbage.
He didn't want Lance, or anyone, really, to see him like this, so upset. "I
was just, um, washing off my face."

"The water isn't on," Lance pointed out. "If you don't want to talk about
it, that's fine. I just wanted to ask if you were ok."

"I'm fine, thanks," Chad repeated, turning away as Lance walked toward the
stalls. "I'm just going to wash my face now, for real."

"OK," Lance said, shrugging. Chad seemed like a nice guy, if a little
emotional. Lance didn't like to see anyone upset, but if Chad didn't want
to talk about it, then Lance didn't want to push. He heard the bathroom
door close, and when he came out of the stall Chad was gone. He walked back
down the hallway and tapped at the door to the dressing room.  "Justin?"

"I'm ok," Justin answered from inside.

Justin wouldn't change in front of the other guys, and even Lance, living
with him since the wedding, sharing a bedroom and frequently a bed, hadn't
seen Justin naked. He would get down to briefs in front of Lance, or a
towel, but if he was going to lose those Lance had to turn his back, and
would wait patiently for Justin's soft assurance that he was ok. Not
knowing for sure if he was finished changing, Lance didn't want to burst in
without knocking and upset him. When Lance pushed open the door, Justin was
sitting in front of the dressing table, staring at himself in the
mirror. His eyes met Lance's in the glass, and he smiled, but it was just a
small one, without teeth.

"Are you ready to get on the bus?" Lance asked.

"Yeah," Justin answered, staring at himself again. Lance walked over,
standing behind him, and Justin reached up to take his hand, his eyes
glistening.

"Justin?" Lance asked, dropping down. He stared into the mirror with
Justin, wondering what they were looking at. "What are you looking at?"

"Justin Timberlake," Justin answered, and began to cry. Lance held him
tightly, feeling his shoulders shake as Justin buried his face in Lance's
chest. Lance didn't ask any questions, knowing that Justin would say it
when he was ready, but he expected this.  Sometimes it didn't happen until
they got back to the hotel, sometimes not until the middle of the night,
but there had been a scene like this after almost every show. Justin didn't
always talk, and hadn't ever stared at himself in the mirror, but he had
cried over something at the end of every show, and Lance figured it was
from stress.  Lance mentally chastised himself for leaving Justin alone,
even for a second.

"It's ok, Justin," Lance quietly, rocking a little, rubbing the back of
Justin's head with one hand while making circles on his back with the
other. "I'm here now, right here."

Justin wasn't sobbing, not full out, heartrending crying, but tears were
trickling freely onto Lance's shirt as Justin fought to get his breathing,
and himself, under control. He was making a low, keening sort of sound,
shaking in Lance's arms, but he was glad for the touch, glad to know that
Lance was here, and would take care of him. He hadn't meant to do this, to
be like this, when Lance came back from the bathroom, but he'd glanced in
the mirror, and saw himself, and tried to see what everyone else did. He'd
tried so hard, but he couldn't do it.

"I'm sorry, Lance," Justin whimpered, sniffling, trying to clear his nose.
"I'm sorry. I didn't want to get like this, I didn't."

"It's ok, Justin," Lance said, pulling up the bottom of his own shirt to
blot Justin's eyes with it. "I understand."

"It's just, I was thinking about the show, and how well it went," Justin
said, closing his eyes as he saw it all again in his head.

"It did, Justin, it did go well," Lance assured him, still holding
him. "You did everything right. You were so good."

"I dropped my hat in the wrong place and it almost tripped Chris," Justin
pointed out.  Lance shook his head.

"That doesn't matter," Lance said. "Chris won't be mad at you. Accidents
happen, Justin."

"I know," Justin said, nodding. He pulled away from Lance, sitting on the
edge of the dressing table, his back to the mirror. "I just, I was thinking
about the concert. When we do it, when we go out, and I hear everyone
cheering, and screaming, they see me, Lance.  They see me like I used to
be, like I was before, and while we're out there, while they do it, it's
like, like I am like before. For the show, the whole thing, that's who they
see, and that's who I am, but then I, I come back inside. I come back
inside, and I look in the mirror, and I, I try to see it, and I can't. I
can't be like I was, ever again, Lance, ever."

Justin began to cry again, sobbing now, his shoulders not just trembling,
but shaking, and Lance held onto him, telling him over and over that it
would be ok. The guys had all been afraid of something like this, and had
almost cancelled the tour, but Justin and his therapist had both agreed
that it would be good for Justin to try this again, to do the things he
loved, with people he trusted, and to try to go on with his life.  So far,
it seemed to be working, seemed to be opening him up some, but there were
still these moments when Justin couldn't hold it all together, and these
were the times when he needed Lance close by, when he needed someone he
trusted to hold onto him and tell him it would all be ok. He needed to hear
it from someone he believed. Justin's tears began to taper off again, and
Lance blotted at his face a second time.

"You'll be like that again, someday, Justin," Lance promised. Justin could
hear the assurance, the promise, in his voice. "Someday."

"But it makes me remember, Lance," Justin whispered, and this was what hurt
him the most. Lance knew that once Justin's mind started down this
particular path, it wouldn't let go, wouldn't let him block it out. Justin
was as helpless to prevent himself from remembering what happened as he had
been to stop it from actually happening.  Every time he thought of it, he
relived it, and it ripped him apart inside. "He hurt me. He hurt me so
much."

"I know, Justin," Lance said, rocking him again. "I know. Justin, we don't
have to do this. You know that. We can stop the tour, cancel the rest, tell
people you're sick. We all agreed that we would if you needed us to,
Justin. All you have to do is say the word."

"No," Justin said, shaking his head. He pulled back from Lance again,
swallowing, using his own shirt to blot his face this time. Lance stared
into Justin's blue eyes and saw something else there, something he thought
he'd caught over the past few weeks, during the rehearsals and the
shows. He saw a flash of the old Justin, and he knew that someday Justin
would bounce back from this. "I won't quit, Lance, I won't, and I won't
make you guys, either. I'm not, I won't let him take that away from me,
too. I won't."

"You're so brave, Justin, so brave," Lance said, not wanting to smile, but
feeling a swell of pride and happiness inside, just the same. He gently
guided Justin to his feet, and walked him over to the dressing table,
pulling some tissues out of the box and blotting carefully at Justin's
face. Justin reached up with a shaking fingertip and flicked it under
Lance's eye, flicking away the lone tear there.

"Thank you, Lance," Justin said, hugging him.

"You're welcome," Lance said, holding him tightly, feeling the muscles in
Justin's back shift, and his hear hammering in his chest. "Are you ready to
go out to the bus now? The guys are probably all waiting for us."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm ready," Justin said, giving his eyes one last swipe.

He took Lance's hand, and Lance led him down the hallways and out to the
parking lot.  Justin held Lance's hand tightly, tensing a little each time
they rounded a corner, or a door opened, but he really was getting better,
and he was mostly ok in the backstage areas, because he knew that no one
would be there unauthorized, but he was still a little skittish about
people approaching him, or touching him. Management knew that something was
up, as you kind of had to be blind to miss the way the guys were acting,
but no one would get into it with them. To protect Justin, they had closed
ranks around him like a wagon train circling up around the campfire, and
all of the things they'd done to accommodate Justin had been explained as
things the entire group wanted.  Mixed in with all the other changes, like
Chad and Jack traveling with JC, or Vlada tagging along with Chris for days
at a time, the tighter security around the guys seemed just one more in a
list of their requests.

They nodded at the crew members they passed on the way to the bus, not
worrying about holding hands, because the crew saw them all touching each
other, hugging, holding hands, or whatever, all the time anyway. Lance
winced inside each time he felt Justin squeeze, and thought about how much
he'd like to grab Nick, and take him behind a closed door somewhere, and
make him pay. He blinked, shaking his head, knowing that he shouldn't think
like that. It was easy for him to think that way when he was angry, easy
for him to want to lash out, but he knew those thoughts weren't him,
weren't things that belonged in his mind. They were probably the kind of
thoughts that Howie had, the kind that made him the way he was, and Lance
had promised himself that he would never think that way, no matter how mad
he was, or how upset. Sometimes in his dreams, though, different things
happened. Lately they'd gotten darker. Sometimes it was still Howie and
Nick hurting him, or hurting Justin, but every once in a while, Lance hurt
them, and those dreams scared the hell out of him.

As they approached the bus he noticed how subdued Justin still was,
withdrawn, and thought of something that would cheer him up.

"Hey Justin, you heard us below the stage, right?" Lance asked, smiling at
him as they crossed the parking lot. All the lights were on inside the bus,
and the engine was running, confirming Lance's suspicion that they were
running late.

"Huh?" Justin asked. All he'd been concentrating on was the show.

"Jack's here," Lance said. Justin nodded. He'd heard that, and it would be
nice to see him again, even if he only had been gone for a couple
days. "Justin, that means someone else is waiting on the bus for you."

"Oh? Oh!" Justin said, grinning. He almost jerked Lance's arm out of the
socket hurrying toward the bus, and as Justin thundered up the steps they
heard a flurry of barks as Junior hurried through the bus toward
them. Justin dropped to his knees, scooping Junior up and holding him to
his chest as Junior licked all over his face and chin.  "Junior! Baby!"

Lance smiled, watching Justin carry Junior reverentially toward Jack and
JC, who were standing in the aisle. Junior had grown from a tiny puppy into
a small dog in the two months since JC had brought him home for Jack, but
he was almost jointly owned by Justin. The little brown and black dog loved
Justin, and Justin was devoted to him. When Jack was with them, Junior
spent every night in Justin and Lance's suite, curled up next to Justin in
bed. Justin never seemed to think or realize, as Lance did, that if Junior
was sleeping in their suite, JC and Jack didn't have to have him
interrupting things in their bed. They also knew, though, that Junior gave
Justin something else to focus on, and something that could love him
unconditionally in a way that didn't threaten him, and that was very
important to them. As much as Jack and JC loved their dog, Lance knew they
would both turn him over to Justin in a heartbeat if Justin asked.

"Hey, Justin," Jack said, smiling. It was hard for him to walk with JC's
arms wrapped around him from behind, but he leaned forward and gave Justin
a quick hug around the shoulders when Justin leaned toward him.

"Welcome back," Justin said, still holding the dog as it continued licking
his face. "Has he been out? Did someone give him some water?"

"He's fine, Justin," Jack answered, laughing. JC tugged on him. "I believe
I'm going to go sit down on top of Josh somewhere. The dog toys are over
there in the basket if you want to play with him."

"You don't mind?" Justin asked. He always asked permission, as if he was
afraid Jack would pull Junior out of his hands and run away.

"No, Justin, of course not," Jack answered. "I think he missed you. You
might want to sit down, though. I think we're about to pull out."

"Yeah, but sometimes it's not a bad thing if the bus lurches and someone
falls on you," JC said, nuzzling Jack's neck as he tugged him toward a
couch.

Justin sat down on the floor as he reached for a bucket of dog toys, Junior
sitting expectantly between Justin's outstretched legs, waiting to see what
he would produce.  His little tail was wagging so hard that his back end
was shaking as he sat on the floor, and Lance smiled, seeing how happy both
of them were. He patted Justin on the shoulder as he passed him, and Justin
smiled up at him. As he walked the length of the bus, Lance heard Joey
talking quietly on the phone, inside his bunk, and then Chris grabbed his
arm and tugged him into the bathroom. Lance looked down into Chris's brown
eyes, trying to figure out what was going on.

"You guys took forever getting out here," Chris said. "I was almost going
to come back for you. Is everything ok?"

"Yeah," Lance answered, nodding, relieved that there wasn't something
terrible going on.  Sometimes Lance felt like they all jumped at every
shadow now, and he wondered if they needed to all get into some kind of
group therapy. Sometimes it seemed like they were all shell
shocked. "Justin just, you know, he had a moment."

"Is he ok?" Chris asked, glancing toward the bathroom door. It wasn't hard,
since he was almost touching it.

"I think so," Lance answered. "I mean, he needs a good night's sleep, but
having Junior with us will help a lot. I think he'll shake it off by
morning, as much as he ever does."

"What about you?" Chris asked, squeezing Lance's shoulder. "Are you ok? Do
you need anything?"

"You mean other than not having the sink poking me in the back in here?"
Lance asked, grinning. "Seriously, was the bathroom always this small?"

"It has been for the whole tour, yes," Chris answered, not willing to be so
easily distracted. He'd accept Lance's assurances about Justin, because
Lance was the authority on Justin's mental state outside of his therapist,
but he also knew that Lance would neglect his own needs without a second
thought if he believed Justin needed him more.  "Lance, I mean it. Are you
ok? Because you look kind of tired, and you have these little bags under
your eyes. If there was anywhere else on the bus to talk we wouldn't be in
here, but we're not getting out until you talk to me, ok?"

Lance sighed, but smiled.

"I know I look tired, Chris," he said, hugging him, laying a head on
Chris's shoulder. He pulled back a little, but Chris didn't let go.

"Talk to me, Lance, please?" Chris said. "It's not just Justin I'm worried
about, you know?"

"I know, Chris," Lance said, swallowing. Chris's eyes were friendly, but
firm, and Lance couldn't really avoid them in the tiny space of the
bathroom. He and Chris hadn't always been close, but now that Justin and
Chris had renewed their bond, Lance had been pulled in as well. "I just, I
haven't been sleeping good since the tour started."

"Why not?" Chris asked, smoothing Lance's hair back. "What's wrong? Is it
more nightmares?"

"Not exactly," Lance said, shrugging. "It's hard to explain. I just, I get
so angry sometimes. I get so mad, not about what happened to me, but about
Justin. I mean, he was just trying to help me, Chris. I know why things
went bad with me and Howie, and why Howie, why he was so mad all the
time. I understand that, but why did this have to happen to Justin? He just
wanted to help me, and Nick, he, you know, why did he have to do that to
Justin, Chris? Why?"

"I don't know, Lance," Chris answered. "I don't think any of us can answer
that, and no answer is going to be worth it. No answer is going to take
this away, not for Justin, and not for the rest of us, either."

"I know," Lance said, frowning. "I just, I think about it, about what
happened, and I get so angry, and I want to, I, I think about hurting
Nick. I think about just grabbing him, and hitting him, hitting him the way
Howie hit me when he was mad. I think about, about holding Nick down, and
just hitting him, over and over, and I don't want to think about that. I
don't want to think about that, because it scares me, Chris. It scares me
so much, because I don't ever want to be that way, ever. I don't want to
let being angry consume me, and it's so hard not to, like you wouldn't
believe. Every time Justin cries, or wakes up from a nightmare, I feel it,
and I don't want to be that kind of a person."

Chris tried to understand, and to think of the right thing to say. He could
understand being angry, because he felt it, too. Sometimes when he thought
about Lance, being afraid in his own house for months, being hurt by Howie,
someone they had all trusted, he thought about how good it would feel to
slap Howie around. He felt the same way every time he saw Justin shy away
from someone, or saw him afraid to do something he wouldn't have given a
second thought to before, like getting changed in front of them, or going
out to a club or a restaurant. As frustrated as he felt, though, he
couldn't even imagine what it was like to be Lance, to feel that way, but
also to have so many memories tied into it.

"What does your therapist say about that?" Chris asked, not wanting to
disagree, and hoping the guy had some better advice than Chris did.

"He says that it's ok to be angry, and that it's understandable," Lance
said, shaking his head. "But I'm afraid, Chris. I'm afraid that I'll be
angry, and that I'll hurt someone. I'm afraid that I'll take it out on one
of you without thinking about it. I know what that's like, Chris. I know
what it feels like, and I don't want to do that to someone else, and I'm so
scared that I will."

"But you'll never do that, Lance, never," Chris said, hugging him tightly.
"You'll never do that because it's what you're afraid of, and it's not who
you are. You'll never be like Howie, Lance."

"I know, but I'm still afraid I will," Lance said, squeezing Chris hard in
the tiny bathroom. Chris worried that his lungs might collapse, but Lance
needed him, so he just squeezed back. "And sometimes, in my dreams."

"I know, Lance, I know," Chris said, patting his back. "Listen, I want you
to take a break tomorrow, ok?"

"What do you mean?" Lance asked, pulling back. They were all on break
tomorrow, before the party tomorrow night.

"I'm taking Justin golfing in the morning," Chris began, and Lance nodded.
Chris and Justin had golfed on every stop of the tour so far, and Justin
looked forward to it now.  Lance, however, didn't golf. "Rather than
following us around in the cart with your book, I want you to take the day
for yourself tomorrow, ok? Rest, watch TV, go shopping, or whatever. I want
you to spend a day having some Lance time."

"But, but," Lance began, protesting, and Chris put a hand over his mouth.

"No buts, because where there's a butt, shit follows," Chris said
seriously, and Lance blushed. "I mean it, Lance. I'll take care of Justin
tomorrow, and you take care of yourself, ok?"

Lance thought about it for a second. In a way, Chris was right. Lance spent
every minute, more or less, with Justin, unless one of them was in a
therapy session.  Maybe he did need a little break. Besides, Justin trusted
Chris, and it would be good for him to venture out without Lance, too. He
needed to start doing stuff like that again, if he was ready to.

"If it's ok with Justin," Lance said finally. Chris started to say
something else, and Lance shook his head. "No, Chris, that's final. Justin
and I don't lie to each other, and I'm not going to pretend to be sick or
something. I'll ask him if he minds if I don't go, and if he's not ok with
it, that's the end of it for now. He's my responsibility, Chris, and I
won't shirk that."

"OK," Chris nodded. He wasn't going to argue the point with Lance, yet
again, that Justin was all of their responsibility. They'd already been in
the bathroom too long as it was. "Are we ok, Lance?"

"Yeah, we are," Lance said, smiling. "Thanks for watching out for me, and
Justin."

"That's my job, kid," Chris said, reaching behind him to flush the toilet.

"What's that for?" Lance asked.

"Because we've been in here for five minutes," Chris said. "We need an
excuse."

Lance followed Chris out of the bathroom, not quite understanding what he
had in mind, but willing to play along. Justin was still seated in the
aisle with Junior, happily engaged in tug of war with one of Junior's toy,
both of them making absurd little growling noises, as if either of them
could be threatening. Justin looked up at Lance cautiously as they stepped
out, wondering what they'd been in the bathroom for so long for, but Lance
smiled and shook his head to let Justin know it was nothing. As they passed
the bunks, he heard Joey still on the phone, and felt a little surge of
loss, thinking about how far apart he and Joey had drifted over the past
few weeks, over this thing with Justin. No, Lance corrected himself, over
Joey's stupid thing with Justin. It was Joey's stubborn pigheadedness and
distrust keeping them apart right now, and Lance wasn't going to be the
first one to break on that.

JC and Jack looked up as he and Chris walked into the back area. The two of
them were sprawled across one of the couches, Jack leaning against JC while
JC drowsily rested a head on Jack's shoulder, his hands curled possessively
around Jack's chest, Jack's hands resting on top of them. Lance and Chris
sat down on the other couch, and Jack smiled at them while JC nuzzled the
side of his neck.

"What was going on in the bathroom?" Jack asked.

"My babymaker's so big I needed Lance to help me hold it," Chris said,
beaming, as Lance's mouth dropped open. JC and Jack both snickered.

"Really?" Jack asked skeptically.

"Well, we did sort of almost see it that time," JC said, squeezing Jack
tightly.  "Remember, when he was cuffed to the bed? In those hotpants? The
sequined ones?"

"Oh yeah," Jack said, nodding. "We gotta get you a pair of those, baby."

"You, too," JC said, laughing.

"Get a room," Chris grumbled, shaking his head.

"Bathroom's free," Jack said, giggling again. "Now that Lance is all done
jerking you off."

"I was not!" Lance said, grinning, but blushing bright red at the same
time.

"Lance was jerking off?" Joey asked, walking into the back. Lance stared at
him a little frostily, but the others didn't seem to notice.

"Jerking off Chris," JC answered. "Chris told us he needed help."

"Probably because he's so old," Joey said, shrugging. "Poor Vlada."

"You all suck," Chris said, shaking his head.

"No, just those three," Joey said, pointing at Lance, Jack, and JC.

"Can we talk about something else, please?" Chris said, throwing his hands
toward the ceiling. "Lance and I aren't ready to reveal our forbidden love
right now."

"I thought you were straight," JC said, smirking at Chris. "When did you
start trying boys?"

"Everyone else is doing it," Chris said nonchalantly, shrugging. He leaned
over and kissed Lance on the cheek, and they all burst into laughter. Lance
was laughing, too, but also blushing, and Chris immediately redirected,
worried that he had crossed one of Lance's boundaries. "So, Jack, how was
the speech thing?"

"It went pretty well," Jack answered, shrugging. "No big surprises, and
I've never been to Indiana before, so it was kind of interesting. They took
me out to eat at this brewing company, and I ordered you each a case of
beer, by the way. They'll be at your houses when the tour's over."

The guys thanked him, Joey and Chris giving each other a high five, being
the only real beer drinkers in the group. Jack kept bringing them all back
little souvenirs, or ordering things for them when he was on the road, just
to let them know he was thinking of them.  Lance was willing to bet that
there was also some sort of special gift for JC in Jack's suitcase
somewhere, because the two of them were always doing that, too, although
Lance couldn't think of what you'd bring someone from Indiana. It was such
a nondescript state, not known for anything, really. Before Jack went
onstage for any of his talks, there was always a bouquet of flowers or box
of candy or something for him, which Lance knew from listening to JC set up
all the deliveries on the phone in between events.  Once Howie had been
devoted to him like that, too, but that was a long time ago.

"I thought you weren't coming until tomorrow," Joey said, cocking his head
to one side as he listened to Jack tell them about his trip.

"Chad screwed up my flight again," Jack sighed, frowning.

"Hey, is he ok?" Lance asked. Everyone looked at him. "I ran into him in
the bathroom before, and I think he was crying."

As soon as he said it he realized what had happened, but it was too late.
Everyone glanced at Jack, who was reddening and looking a little
uncomfortable, and then they all looked away. Lance mouthed a quick
"Sorry", at Jack, and Jack caught it, but he was a little more concerned
with JC, who was looking at him with a firm, tense expression, than he was
with Lance. There was an air of tension between the two of them, and Lance
wondered if this was something they'd argued over before. Everyone rode in
silence for a bit, except Justin, who was still growling at Junior, not
paying any attention to the rest of them at all. Lance couldn't wait to get
off of the bus, but at least Justin was comfortable.

***

To be continued.