Date: Sun, 26 Nov 2000 22:35:09 -0500 From: Dara Lynn Subject: Boy bands/ Any Path/ Chosen Road, chapter one Okay, I'm very nervous right now. This trilogy has become bigger and more popular than I ever expected from anything I could do, and now here we are, at the beginning of the end. "Chosen Road" is the final story of this series, and was without a doubt the hardest to write. I'm honestly not sure how good this is, but for your sakes I dearly hope it was worth the wait. I am grateful to more people than I could ever write here, so I want to offer a sincere and heartfelt THANK YOU to everyone, and I mean EVERYONE, who has encouraged me with my writing and has followed this story. It is because of feedback and pleas for more (coughthreatscough) that this is getting out this soon. Another reason is in honor of my dear friend Red's birthday, November 27 - so Happy Birthday, Red! :) I'd also like to mention my sounding board and 'twin' Aphrodite, who not only inspired me with "A Tale of Two Boybands" and her other writings, but who has proved invaluable in helping me do "Chosen Road", and just plain being a great friend. So you all don't have to ask, chapter two will be out soon as I can type the dern thing up (WordPad hates it for some reason) and bounce it off my previously-mentioned sounding board. :) More thanks to my fellow writers and buddies on the Nsyncslash and JoshJustinSlash lists, who I couldn't do without; David the archiver, who rocks for dealing with all of us; the wonderful Dennis, who suggested this story's title; and 'Nsync and the Backstreet Boys for enriching all of our lives. I've probably forgotten someone...but I really do love you all! :) DISCLAIMER: Why are you reading this? :) Okay, fine. I don't know or hope to get within a thousand feet of BSB, 'Nsync, Johnny Wright, or any other real people used in this story. No offense or infringement is intended. It's all fiction. Promise. Oh, and don't read this if ya haven't read "No Painless Way", and reading "Any Path" would probably help too. Duh. :) Just don't want to confuse the crap outta ya. Oh, one more thing. The format of this story is a bit odd, as to please both the 'Nsync-fan readers and the BSB-fan readers. It has two storylines - the odd chapters are 'Nsync, the even-numbered chapters BSB. The two storylines do overlap later on, though. Kewl, huh? :) And this story is completed, so sorry, I can't take suggestions. But hopefully this won't suck. I'll shut up now. :) Whew. Okay, here it is... ~CHOSEN ROAD~ Chapter One "I'm looking back through the years Down this highway Memories, they all lead up to this one day..." - "Only One Road", Celine Dion (two weeks later) "Amazing." "What's so amazing about it?" "Well, look at it. It's existential, or something." "What?" "It's a metaphor for life. It represents beginnings, undiscovered treasures, hopes for growth, the promise of change. It's a symbol of our true selves when we're still waiting to become whole. It's art." "It's an unplanted Chia Pet, Chris." Christopher Kirkpatrick shot a withering look at his bandmate, Joshua Chasez. "I know that, J.C. Why can't you ever just let me be deep?" J.C. offered his usual doofy grin as he answered. "'Cause you never make any sense. Are you gonna put the seeds on that thing, or what?" "Nah, I like it this way better." J.C. shrugged as if to say 'I'll never understand him', and grabbed his jacket off the couch. "Hey, where ya goin'?" "Gotta get back. Justin's gotta go see the doc in less than an hour. And you know I don't like being away from him for too long." Chris smiled with understanding. "I know. I'll come with ya." The two friends strolled out of Chris's house and headed for J.C.'s car, squinted at the sunlight that peeked out shyly from behind the clouds. "How's Justin been?" "You just saw him yesterday, Chris." "I know. But you're staying with him now and you guys are together practically every second. Thought you'd have some insight into how he's *really* coping." There was no bounce to J.C.'s walk as he reached the Jeep and got in. "He...he still cries a lot. Mostly at night. He can't stand to be alone for more than a few minutes. And the nightmares...God, they must be horrible. Sometimes he wakes up screaming..." Chris tentatively touched J.C.'s arm. The younger man looked at him gratefully, but his transluscent blue eyes were clouded over. "He's strong, C. He's gonna get through this." "Yeah. I just...it just hurts so much to see him in pain. Sometimes he's fine, like it all never happened. Then all of a sudden he gets quiet, and I can see in his eyes that he's remembering. Sometimes...I'm afraid he'll never really get past this." "It's gonna take time, Josh. It's only been two weeks. I think that, considering what happened to him, Justin's doing great. He's alive and even smiles sometimes. That's a lot more than I'd be able to do." J.C. smiled softly. "You always said that all together there's nothing we couldn't deal with. I never doubted that before...I shouldn't now. I know you're right, Chris. I just want him to be happy again." Chris nodded. "Well, he's got all of us to cheer him up. And the person he loves more than anything." He looked pointed ly at J.C. "How's the, ya know, relationship going?" "Not much is different. We haven't kissed or anything since the night before...the night I found out about his feelings for me. I hold his hand, I rock him to sleep, I tell him I love him...all things I did when Just and I were still just friends - less. Officially we're together, but he's not ready to, ya know, show it physically." "Are you dealing with that okay?" J.C. sighed. "Ever the psych major, aren't we? As far as I'm concerned, I have my angel back, the light of my life. Even if he's *never* ready to be with me like couples are, I'm the luckiest guy on Earth." Chris shook his head with amazement as the car pulled into the Harless driveway. //Fate sure got this pair matched up right. There's a lot to be said for that kind of devotion. I just hope J.C.'s love, and ours, is enough to help Justin heal. Please God, let it be enough.// ----------------------------------------------------------------------- ~Personal Diary of Christopher A. Kirkpatrick entry~ Dear Diary, I'm not quite sure why I'm doing this. I mean, I haven't ever kept a diary before. I guess I just have so much crap floating around in my head right now that I need a way to release some of it. I know what you're thinking. (Well, *I'm* thinking - you don't think. Least I hope you don't. Last thing I need is a notebook that's sentient enough to criticize my writing. Anyway...) Why don't I talk to the guys about stuff? I do. But sometimes what you need to say most can't be said, or it comes out wrong. I mean, I can tell them just about anything. But J.C.'s got a lot on his mind, Joey's...well, Joey, and even Lance I can't tell *everything*. And Justin is, well, basically a mess right now. When I'm around (Joey and Lance too, sometimes even J.C.), he tries really hard to act like nothing happened. I'm wondering if maybe he's trying to convince himself that nothing *did* happen. Denial. There's no better way to make fresh wounds deeper. J.C.'s coming over soon. I want to make sure that the guy gets some time to chill now and then. He's living with Justin right now. It's like it's always been - Curly feels safest when C is with him. He *needs* to feel safe, especially now. I saw Justin yesterday. Except for that distant look in his eyes now and then, he seemed like the kid we knew before he was taken from us. He rolled his eyes at me, talked about the next album and even teased J.C. about holding his hand too tight. I know all that should ressaure me, but somehow it doesn't. If it's denial... I'm gonna go back over there today and see him again, maybe even get some answers. I just hope I'm jumping at shadows. The worst may be over for Justin, but that doesn't mean the storm has passed. - Chris ------------------------------------------------------------------------ J.C. all but ran into the house, followed by a chuckling Chris. As they walked in, Justin looked up from where he was sitting on the couch, and smiled weakly. He stood and hugged Chris immediately, as though to reassure him. "Hi, Chris." "Hey, Curly. How ya doin'?" Justin shrugged noncommittally, and turned away before he could catch the doubtful look on the eldest 'Nsyncer's face. The young blond returned J.C.'s hug as strong arms wrapped around him. "Hi, Josh." "Hey, baby. Miss me?" Justin smiled, showing his perfect teeth. "Always. You?" "God yes." J.C. hugged his boyfriend tighter, careful not to hurt him. Justin leaned his head against J.C.'s shoulder as the older man breathed in the fresh scent of the blond curls. J.C. kissed the top of Justin's head before reluctantly letting him move away. Chris pouted. "How come *I* don't get a hug, Curly?" "I just hugged you a second ago." "Oh yeah." Justin sighed with playful exasperation. "Dear, scatterbrained Chris. What *would* we do without you?" "Take yourselves too seriously. Speaking of serious, I thought Lance was gonna be here." Lynn answered him as she came out of the kitchen. "Hi, boys. Lance called and said he and Joey would be awhile. Something about Joey dragging him on some hairbrained adventure." "Yeah, Lance *would* use the word 'hairbrained'," Justin laughed softly. J.C. suddenly seemed uncomfortable. "Baby, we should get going. We don't want to be late for your appointment." Justin's frown more than matched J.C.'s. He nodded slowly and pulled his jacket on, accepting a kiss from his mother before heading outside. J.C. followed, and they got into his car. Whenever the two went somewhere together they usually used J.C.'s jeep, as fans tended to recognize Justin's Mercedes. "So, Just, is your grandma still baking?" As hoped for, Justin laughed. "Mom's been on the phone *begging* her to stop. All those peach cobblers are taking over the kitchen!" "You always told me that if you had to pick one food to live on for the rest of your life, it would be your grandma's peach cobbler." "Yeah, but I didn't expect to actually be *given* that option. I understand it, though...since I was little, whenever I was upset she'd make it for me. Her way of fixing things. Guess she figures something like this requires a *lot* of baking." He looked away. J.C. took a deep breath. "Hon, I'm a little worried. Your appetite hasn't been good lately. You won't even eat your Apple Jacks anymore - Justin? Justin!" He took the teenager by the arms and looked at him with panic. Justin was trembling, his eyes were squeezed shut and tears were running swiftly down his pale cheeks. "Just, what is it?" "I'm sorry..." "It's okay." "It's...*he* tried to make me eat them, and now just the thought of them makes me feel sick..." J.C. pulled the boy to his chest and held. "Sssh, it's okay now, angel. It's over. You're with me." Justin began to relax. "I know, I'm all right. Josh...I love you." "I love you too, Just. You okay now?" "Uh-huh. Let's go." ----------------------------------------------------------------------- Justin all but ran out of Dr. Gorman's office and into J.C.'s open arms. "Mr. Chasez? May I speak to you for a moment?" J.C. nodded, gently sitting Justin down in one of the waiting room's chairs. "You gonna be okay without me for a few minutes?" Justin wiped his eyes with his jacket sleeve and nodded. "Yeah, go on." J.C. followed the middle-aged man into his office. He sat down in a comfortable armchair while the psychiatrist exchanged a few words with his secretary, and observed the room. In the short time since Dr. Gorman had moved his practice to Orlando, he'd decorated the room with calm, earthy colors, giving it a tranquil feel. //Peaceful. Can't be too hard to be relaxed in here.// Dr. Lawrence Gorman entered the room and shut the door behind him. As he sat in a chair facing J.C., he nodded apologetically. "I'm sorry to have kept you waiting." "Not a problem. You wanted to talk to me?" The psychiatrist was silent for a moment as he cleaned his glasses. "Yes, Mr. Chasez. It concerns my progress with Justin." "Call me J.C. What's wrong with Justin?" The man leaned back against his chair. "You realize, J.C., that after the mere three sessions I've had with Mr. Timberlake, drastic improvements can hardly be expected." J.C. nodded. "I know, these things take time. But he's getting better, right?" "That's what I wished to speak with you about. Justin quite naturally shows some reluctance to talk about the kidnapping, but he *will* talk about it. The rape, on the other hand, he has not mentioned at all." J.C. frowned. "Is that strange? You can't expect him to *want* to talk about that." "Of course not. But Justin is obviously an intelligent young man. He knows why he comes here, he knows that talking about the trauma he underwent will help him. I would not be at all surprised if he did not yet wish to talk about the rape, especially considering the extremity of his initial reaction to it. But what concerns me now is that I don't believe Justin has accepted that the rape actually happened." J.C.'s fingers tightened on the arms of his chair, and his voice was low. "What?! How is that possible?" "Denial. He could very well have decided that it would be easier to pretend the rape never occurred. That would explain his refusal to discuss or even acknowledge it." "Doctor, this may sound stupid, but is there really so much harm in letting him just forget about it and move on?" The psychiatrist shook his head. "That's just it, J.C. He hasn't really forgotten, he simply chooses to ignore. And Justin cannot move on until he acknowledges and deals with the fact that he *was* raped." A large lump was forming in J.C.'s throat; talking about this was like a knife in his heart. "Doc, is it possible that he doesn't *know*?" The doctor looked at him sympathetically. "According to the medical reports, Justin began his withdrawl sometime during the actual penetration. Upon being questioned Justin stated that he remembers everything up to that point fairly clearly, and he can even recall much of what happened while he was in the catatonic state. Have any of his friends or family spoken to him of this?" "Of the ordeal as a whole, yes. Of the rape specifically, no. We figured he's not ready to talk about it yet...so he *does* know about it? He...remembers it?" "Right now, in his mind, it never happened. But to move forward he must accept that he was violated. To do that, he *must* remember it." J.C. sighed, pressing a fist against his mouth for a moment. "How can I help?" "Justin is more comfortable with you than anyone else. He feels most safe in your company. "Yes." "I'd like you to try asking him about it. Don't push for detail, don't make him relive it. If he knows that you are aware of the rape, that might be enough to help him begin accepting it." "I'll - I'll try." The doctor smiled. "That's all anyone can do. Now, I don't wish to alarm you, but for the time being I would strongly suggest that Justin not be left alone for more than a few minutes at a time." "He hasn't been, he doesn't like to. Doc...are you saying you think Justin might try to..." J.C.'s eyes were on fire with panic. "...hurt himself?" "Anyone who has undergone a traumatic experience is at the risk of suicide, J.C. Better safe than sorry, correct?" "Yes, definitely." J.C. rose. "Is that all, Doctor? I don't mean to be impolite, but I want to get back to Justin." Dr. Gorman smiled and shook J.C.'s hand. "That's all for now. We can talk more after Justin's next appointment, all right?" "Sure. Thanks, Doc." "Thank *you*." J.C. forced a smile as he went out to meet Justin in the waiting room, his stomach knotted in anticipation of what he had to do. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Joey cheerfully dragged Lance out of the airport terminal and into a cab. Once deposited on the seat, the spikey-haired blond glared at his friend. "New York. Joey, when you asked me to come on an errand with you, you didn't mention that it was going to take place several states away!" Joey shrugged, his usual excited grin on his face. "Well, I thought if I told you you wouldn't wanna come." "Joe, don't get me wrong - I love hangin' out with you. But we should be in Orlando helping Justin." "That's exactly what we *are* doing, Poo-Fu! That's the point of this trip. I had a friend of mine make something to make Curly feel better." Lance frowned. "Joey, if you're dragging me to a drug dealer I swear to God - " "NO! Sheesh, is that what you think of me? Ya know, Mississippi Boy, my hometown is good for other things besides drug runs. The pizza, for example." Lance rolled his unusual green eyes. "Joey, *please* tell me you did not bring me almost a thousand miles for pizza." Joey laughed. "Nah. We're goin' to see my friend Rhiannon. She's a witch." "A what?" "The Baptist choirboy doesn't know what a witch is? Yeah right! Now, before ya go quotin' Exodus on me or re-enacting the Inquistion, real witches are just followers of a different religion - " Lance clamped a hand over Joey's mouth. "Joey, being devoted to your faith doesn't mean you have to dislike other people's. I know what Wicca is, and I'm not expecting broomsticks and cauldrons, okay? I was just surprised, not upset." He removed his hand. "And by the way, it was the Catholics who did the Inquisition, not Baptists." Joey scratched his head. "Oh yeah. They always get me confused." "Weren't you raised Catholic, Joe?" "I'm recovering. Nah, being Catholic was cool. Gives you something to work out the rest of your life, anyways." Lance giggled, and the older man found himself feeling warmer inside at the sound of his friend's laughter. Being with Lance had always been such a joy for Joey, though he never completely understood why. They were so...different. Both had good senses of humor, but Joey's was often crude or perverted while Lance's was drier and more witty. While Joey was very intelligent and thoughtful, Lance was more knowledgeable on many subjects, book-smart as Joey was street-smart. Lance was in church every Sunday when he could be, a place Joey hadn't seen since he was a child. The list went on and on. Joey was almost annoyingly spontaneous, while Lance painstakingly planned out *everything*. Joey was flirtatious and outgoing; Lance was shy around people he didn't know. Lance knew 'Nsync's schedule better than their management did; Joey frequently forgot what city they were in. Joey, despite his cheerful manner, when provoked had an awful temper that he frequently blamed on his Italian heritage. 'Nsync could count on one hand the number of times they'd heard Lance raise his voice; he had a calmness and control that Chris jokingly said must be a side effect of being an albino. Joey had grown up in Brooklyn, Lance in a quiet Mississippi town. Joey was by nature messy; Lance was a total neat-freak. They were a classic case of 'you say to-may-toe, I say to-mah-toe'. Even physically they were opposites. Joey was not tall but not short, not skinny but not fat, with brown eyes and brown hair that he enjoyed experimenting with. He looked like your average, friendly-looking guy. Handsome, but normal. On the outside, anyway. If you asked Joey, he would say that Lance was definitely not the sort of guy you only looked at once. In the right light he looked as though he were made of pearl and gold with his blond spikes and pale white skin. The group sometimes teased J.C. by calling Justin 'the little angel', J.C.'s nickname for him, but to Joey it was Lance who seemed cherubic, right down to his sweet, unassuming nature. And the eyes. God, the eyes. Of all of Lance's features he was most often complimented on his bright sea-green eyes. Joey loved to look at Lance when the blond laughed - the serpentine orbs would glow like sunlight through a gemstone. He wasn't laughing now. He was staring at Joey with concern, wondering what his friend's thoughts were. //You don't wanna know, Scoop.// "Joe? You okay?" Joey swallowed nervously, and turned to face the pretty eyes with a smile he had to force. "Yeah, just spaced for a sec. Lance...can I tell you something?" Lance nodded. "Sure, anything." "Um...I...I think Rhiannon *does* have a cauldron, actually." Lance stared at his friend for a moment before surrendering to a fit of laughter. Joey watched him, smiling honestly now. //God, I love that laugh.// ------------------------------------------------------------------------ J.C. glanced across the table at Justin every few seconds, keeping the looks brief in the hope that the seventeen-year-old wouldn't notice. Lynn did, J.C. was sure, but she and Paul were doing the same thing. If Jonathan had been there he would be too, J.C. figured, simply because everyone else was doing it. Jonathan was spending the night at his best friend's house. Much as J.C. loved the kid, who was like his own brother, he was glad that Jonathan wasn't always at home. At times like these J.C. could tell how Justin was really feeling; when his little brother was around Justin acted cheerful and played with him, like he wasn't an emotional wreck. Jonathan of course didn't know the details of what had happened to his big brother. His parents and grand-parents had explained what kidnapping was to him, so Jonathan knew to some extent why Justin was acting strange, why he cried sometimes, why J.C. was staying with them. But he was carefully shielded from the full truth. How do you explain something as sick and horrible as rape to a five-year-old? Simple - you *don't*. While swallowing a meatball, J.C. discreetly looked up again. Justin was silently twirling spaghetti around on his fork, his blue eyes not seeming to be focused on anything. The blank look on his face was one J.C. was used to - it was Justin's pensive expression, the one he wore whenever he wasn't preoccupied with some other emotion. But it was different now. The lively blue eyes seemed haunted, the soft lips curved in a perpetual pout. Usually whenever he caught J.C. loking at him, Justin would smile or make a silly face. When he'd look up their eyes would meet, and a warm feeling would pass through both. But Justin wouldn't look at him now. He wouldn't look at anyone. Paul cleared his throat. "So, how did the appointment go?" "Okay," Justin mumbled. "How do you like Dr. Gorman?" asked Lynn. To their delight, Justin smiled a little. "He's cool. He's really nice." J.C. nodded. "Next time I talk to Brian I'll thank him for recommending the guy. Very lucky for us that the doc decided to move his practice down here." "How's the new album going, boys?" asked Paul. Justin's smile widened. "It's gonna rock. This one'll be all us. We make all the decisions - not like before. We're even gonna have some of our own writing on it." J.C. laughed suddenly. "Joey wants to do a cover of 'Girls Just Wanna Have Fun'." Justin giggled helplessly. "I swear, that boy has got some serious issues! Remember when he told us about the time in high school, when he played Cher in a talent show? Ever since then I've had suspicions...I'm *this* close to telling the press he's a transvestite." "Justin!" Lynn tried to look shocked, but she, along with the rest of them, was laughing too hard. J.C. was completely beside himself. "Maybe we should encourage it! Then maybe they'll stop calling us a *boy* band!" Justin laughed insanely as J.C. nearly fell out of his chair. The brown-haired man stuck his tongue out at Justin, who just laughed harder. Lynn and Paul watched this with amusement, surprised but happy. They were both thinking of all those times years ago when J.C. had nearly always eaten with them, and he and Justin would babble endlessly to eachother, finishing eachother's sentences as if they were speaking a secret language known only to them. Absolutely howling over jokes the two adults rarely understood. Sometimes even food fights would erupt, and Lynn would scold them even though she didn't really mind. Though, she reasoned, they really were too old for that now. Or not. J.C. playfully tumbled out of his chair when a piece of garlic bread bonked him on the nose. "Got ya, Josh!" "Justin!" Lynn admonished. She turned to her husband, who was trying not to laugh. "Did you see that?" "Yes, dear. Justin hit Joshua on the head with a piece of garlic bread." Justin, grinning, plopped down on the floor next to J.C. "Ya hear that, Josh? Dad rhymed!" "Kewl! He's a poet and he -" "NO! Don't say it!" "Okay. But just 'cause *you* asked me not to." Justin smiled so sweetly that J.C. nearly melted into the tiles right there. Their eyes locked, dark azure against pale cerulean, and for a few minutes the world around them was gone. "Um...Josh?" "Yes, angel?" "How did we get on the floor?" Lynn chuckled quietly as she busily cleared the table. "By reverting to four-year-olds for a couple of interesting minutes. Now, Paul and I have got to go or we'll be late for the meeting. Think you two can behave yourselves for a few hours without us?" "Sure thing, Lynn." "Thank you, Joshua." She kissed the top of Justin's head, ruffled J.C.'s hair affectionately and went to meet her husband outside. Justin sat, still on the floor, absent-mindedly twiddling his fingers, the mirth gone from his face as though it had never been there. The meeting. What Lynn had referred to was a support group for family members of sexual-assault victims. She and Paul went once a week to talk about their feelings and learn how to help Justin get past what had happened to him. The keys seemed to be patience, love and understanding - things they, as parents, had quite a bit of. J.C. was saddened, but not shocked by Justin's sudden change of mood. For a short time amidst the laughter and the warm family atmosphere that surrounded him, the teenager had put aside all thoughts of the horrible experience he'd gone through. The mere mention of the support group reminded him of why it was needed...what had happened to him. Justin began to rub at his wrists a little, though no trace remained of the cords that had bound him. From the blank look on his face and the loose manner in which he moved, it was obvious that he didn't really know he was doing it. This occasional practice was one of the effects of the trauma that had been inflicted on Justin. He often couldn't stand to have anything holding or around his wrists, not even a 'WWJD?' bracelet, an accessory he'd worn constantly until the day his nightmare began, when he'd torn the cloth circle off and left it as a cry for help. His loved ones had guessed this that same morning, and Justin confirmed it later in a subdued, hushed voice. The admiration they felt for his quick thinking was expressed, though he didn't seem to have heard it as he remembered the pressure of a damp cloth over his mouth. There were other changes, other wounds, all emotional ones. And they were harder to cure than any physical harm that could have been inflicted on the undamaged young body. Justin couldn't bear to be alone for very long, not that he was ever given the opportunity. With J.C. he was most relaxed and 'normal', but even then his appetite remained shaky, and he smetimes felt nauseous when not sufficiently distracted from the awful memories that gnawed at him. He usually could not fall asleep without J.C.'s arms around him, or at least without the presence of the one person whose touch had never made him visibly flinch. Even so, nightmares frequently disturbed him. Justin was often anxious and tense, and his mood swung back and forth between cheerfully energetic and deeply depressed. All normal, Dr. Gorman said, and to be expected. According to the psychiatrist, Justin was actually lucky in a way - for him, the ordeal itself was over. He wouldn't have to take part in the trial when it came to court, as the only person left alive to blame intended to plead guilty, to atone for his crimes behind bars. Timothy Korman had time to find forgiveness, and Justin had time to make peace with himself, with what had been done to him. It was strange how similar were the roads ahead of each, one to absolution and the other to hope. Or perhaps it was the same path stretched before both of them, before the suffering villain and the wronged victim. J.C. shook his head. //What a terrible thought...// "Justin?" The boy released his wrist. "Mmm-hmm?" J.C. couldn't recall the words he intended to say, so instead he spoke what was always in his heart. "I love you." The curly-haired blond met his eyes, and a smile brightened the neutral face. "I love you too, Josh." "Can I hold you?" "Here? Now?" "Everywhere and forever. But yeah, here for now." Justin chuckled, and scooted over the tiled floor to his boyfriend. J.C.'s arms wrapped around his most prized treasure, cradling the seventeen-year-old gently and lovingly. The twenty-two-year-old rested his head on the luminous curls and closed his eyes, breathing evenly with contentment. //This is what I want. I want this moment to never end.// Blinking back tears, J.C. exhaled sharply. "Baby, I need to talk to you about something." Justin pulled back, seeming worried, even upset. "It's about us, isn't it? I'm sorry, Josh...you deserve better than a boyfriend this screwed up, who can't even *do* anything with you -" "*What*?! Justin, how can you say that? How can you think I feel like anything less than the luckiest guy on Earth when I'm with you? Angel, we're together, in a relationship. That is more than I ever thought I'd have. The physical stuff couples do is *nothing* compared to how you make me feel, with just a glance or a smile. Not only am I willing to wait for all that - I *insist* on it." J.C. held Justin's relieved eyes with his own. "After what was done to you, I'd be amazed if you had any interest in sex for a long time." A look of horror entered the unblinking, intense blue orbs. With the quickness of a natural athlete, Justin sprang up from his sitting position and ran. J.C. followed and was about to continue after Justin up the stairs when Chris came in the front door. "What the hell..." Chris chased after his friends, right behind J.C. They entered Justin's room, one after the other. J.C. spoke softly to the shaking figure that faced the window, not seeming to notice Chris's presence. "Justin, you need to talk about it. You need to talk about what that psycho did to you." "He didn't do anything! He didn't touch me!" "Baby, you *can't* go on thinking like that, it's eating you up inside. In a way the rape never ended, but you can end it now by accepting that it happened!" Justin let out a heart-wrenching wail of sorrow that deepened into a growl of anger. Possessed by rage and frustration, he swung at the carefully-arranged photographs displayed on his dresser and knocked them to the floor. All three singers winced as the wooden frames cracked and the glass shattered. Justin stood frozen, panting, staring at his shocked friends as if to say 'Why? Why do I have to remember? Why did you make me?' After a moment he slumped down to the floor, looking dumbly at the mess he'd made. J.C. searched frantically for words of wisdom, but found none. "You broke your pictures," he whispered simply, earning a confused look from Chris. Justin looked up, then back down. Strangely, some of the fear on his face vanished. His trembling lips formed a sad smile, and a soft chuckle escaped him. J.C.'s eyes never left the boy as he sat down in front of him. "What's so funny?" he asked carefully. "'Star Trek: First Contact'. Lily was trying to convince Captain Picard to blow up the Enterprise to destroy the Borg. He wanted to hurt them first, make them pay for assimilating him. He was so angry that he threw his phaser rifle into a display case and broke the models of previous Enterprises. 'You broke your little ships.' That's what she said. She compared him to Captain Ahab in 'Moby Dick'...Chris, why was Captain Ahab trying to kill the whale? I can't remember." Chris was standing in the doorway where he'd been the whole time. At the question he hesitated, feeling somewhat flustered. "Um...it was revenge, I think. The whale had injured him. He was crippled, broken." Justin nodded slowly. "I guess I can identify." J.C. sighed. "Angel, you're *not* broken. You've been hurt, badly, in the worst way possible. A lot of that hurt is still inside you. But it *won't* always be that way." Justin met his eyes. "It happened, didn't it? He really..." J.C. nodded, his face pained. "I had hoped...that it was a bad dream. That in spite of how real it was, in spite of all the evidence it was just another nightmare. But...deep down I knew. Josh?" "Yes, Justin?" he asked, edging closer to the blond. Tears began to break the stony calm of Justin's face. "He...he raped me. I begged him to stop but he wouldn't..." J.C. gathered his love into his arms. "I know, baby. It's okay now, it's over. He's dead, he can never touch you again." Justin returned the hug for a moment before drawing his arms back, content to just be held where he felt most safe. The boy tentatively reached out and touched one of the pictures of he and J.C., and winced as a piece of glass cut his thumb. J.C. heard him gasp and reacted immediately, grabbing the hand. "Are you okay, hon? Let me see..." "It's just a cut, Josh." "Does it hurt?" J.C. asked concernedly. Justin squeezed J.C.'s fingers and smiled at Chris, to imply he was talking to both. "Yes, it does hurt. But it will heal." His friends smiled back, a weight lifted from their hearts. Both knew Justin hadn't been referring to his thumb. ~to be continued~ Feedback welcome to DaraLynn_writings@hotmail.com No flames, please.