Date: Tue, 26 Sep 2000 18:43:18 -0400
From: Lightwind <Lightwind20@adelphia.net>
Subject: Taken for Granted 4

	I am SO sorry! This has taken me longer than I planned. I do
apologize, though I do have school and work, I have a computer at home, and
I spend like a bazillion hours on it on the net. If there is anyone out
there that is still reading this, thank you! Now, if you are still reading
this, bless your soul, and you would like to yell at me, or tell me that
I'm forgiven, please do so at lightwind20@adelphia.net. I no longer have my
Mindspring account, so if you have sent an email to there, than I
apologize. I do still have my AOL Imer name of firesong18, or lightwind20.
	Now, the legal sh...shtuff *grins*. This is completely from my own
imagination. Please read "I made this up." It has no basis in reality save
that the characters mentioned, well, those of N'sync, are real, however the
situations that I have put them in are completely made up. Further, I have
no knowledge as to the sexuality of any of the members contained herein, or
of anyone else that may grace the story with their presence.
	Also, if you are not of legal age, within your own country/state
(region, etc)/county/city/whatever, please don't get caught reading this
and blame me. You shouldn't be reading this legally, but since you probably
are anyway, just don't get caught or in trouble. Oh, and if you are reading
this, and are gay/bi (cause I had a straight lady email me which I thought
was cool) than make sure you clear the history, the location bar, and see
if you can find the file in your computer, so your parents don't find it
*blushes*.


Up on the rooftop

	Fear, the most primal of emotions, can reach out for you no matter
where you are, and no matter what you are doing, and can catapult you into
action, no matter the consequence you may face, as it rarely give you the
time to think about the course of events that you are about to undergo.
	There are many types of fear; some are holdovers from childhood
such as fear of the dark. Other fears are those that have been passed down
through the generations, such as fear of snakes, or of spiders. Still
others are more personal fears such as fear of heights or fear of closed
spaces.
	All these fears reside inside an individual, and are focused upon
oneself. However there are those fears that are focused on the world around
you, or more specifically focused on those around you. To a parent, the
world of their child is full of many frightening things, and there fear is
that they won't be able to protect their child from those things that can
scare or even harm their child.
	Along this line is the fear for someone else. This is often felt by
friends who know that what their friend is doing is stupid, but they feel
that they can't or shouldn't' interfere. Some things like promiscuity, and
drugs may place a strong strain on the friendship, but the friendship, if
it is strong enough should endure.
	But what about those fears that aren't any of these? The fear for
another that pulls a cord in your heart, and sends a scream echoing
throughout your consciousness, leaving no room for anything else to exist.
	It is this type of fear that awoke one Joshua Chasez from his dream
of a forest and of a beach, and of Lance. Though a portion of his mind
still wondered at Lance's presence in the dream, the majority of his
consciousness was filled with an indescribable fear. Fear from an image
that had appeared in his dream. An image of one of his closest, and most
dear friends, standing atop the roof of the hotel, close to the edge, with
a look of inhuman pain on his face.
	It was that image, the look of pain on Justin's face, that had
catapulted Jc, not only out of the dream, and out of his bed, but up the
stairs because the elevator would take to long. It was that image that
spurred his flight up the stairs at a speed he knew he would never again be
able to duplicate under conscious control.
	He burst on to the rooftop like an avenging angel, sent from God's
hand to strike fear into the hearts of mortals, or in this case, to save
the life of an innocent soul, before he did something whose repercussions
would send ripples of pain throughout the lives of his friends and family,
for the rest of their lives.
	"Justin?"
	Jc's voice carried easily over the rooftop to where his friend
stood. Yet though Jc knew that his voice had reached Justin's ears, Justin
gave no sign of acknowledgement. Jc hesitantly stepped closer, calling out
Justin's name, a bit louder this time.
	"Justin?"
	Jc heard his voice echo across the rooftop, so he was absolutely
certain that Justin's ears were in range of his voice, and should have
picked up his voice. Yet Justin stood there, overlooking the roof, as still
as a statue, and just as unresponsive.
	Fear once again filled Jc's heart. Justin was so 'tuned out' that
he was not responding to Jc's overtures. Justin was never that out of
it. While his ability to focus on something sometimes left Jc in awe, he
had never been so out of it that the simple act of calling his name, failed
to break that concentration.
	Jc stepped even closer, so that he was standing along side Justin's
statuesque form. He was about to reach out his hand and touch his friend's
shoulder when he saw something that stilled his hand.
	Gracing his friend's handsome face, glittering like diamonds, were
twin rivers of tears streaking in their meandering way, across his
cheekbones, and around his jaw.
	That image alone almost stopped Jc's heart from beating. A
glistening river of endless tears that ran freely from Justin's eyes, tears
such as Jc hadn't seen since Justin had told him about how his parent's
were going to get a divorce.
	One shock after the next, blow after blow to Jc's heart and
mind. For he had followed the river to it's source, and there he found the
biggest shock of all.
	Where Justin's normally shining eyes were supposed to be, there
were two orbs that could have been mistaken for eyes. However, to those
that knew Justin, shared their lives with him, as he and the guys had for
the past few years, the orbs that were in the sockets were no more Justin's
eyes, than Joey's hair was it's natural color.
	They seemed empty and hollow, devoid of anything even remotely
resembling emotion or thought. Yet what scared Jc the most was that they
seemed devoid of anything even remotely resembling life. This was a life
that had always shined out of Justin's eyes, to set the world around him
glowing with the vitality that had radiated out of those normally shining
orbs.
	Those very same eyes, right now, seemed to be doing just the
opposite. Instead of burning with life, they seemed to be tight and closed,
like the shutters of a house, you could faintly see the light from inside,
but you couldn't see anything else.
	Justin's eyes were so tightly closed that Jc wasn't sure what to
do. Justin's eyes were always the windows into his mind, and into his
soul. They always showed his emotions, whether joy, or sorrow. Yet here Jc
was, staring into the normally expressive eyes of his best friend, yet now
those eyes were as hard as stone.
	"Justin? Justin please talk to me. What is going on? Please?"
	Maybe it was the frantic tone in Jc's words. Maybe it was the tone
of pure love, and also the rather strong note of fear as well. Whatever it
was, Justin slowly turned towards Jc, his eyes not altering in the
slightest. Though Jc knew that Justin was now looking at him, he almost
shuddered at the still completely vacant look in Justin's eyes.
	"I'm fine Jc. I'm just thinking. I just wanted to be alone right
now. So if you don't mind..."
	Now Jc was truly scared. This was the final blow to an already
tense situation. Justin's voice was dead. There was no hint of emotion, no
ember of life. There wasn't a single hint in those words of the person that
was Justin. A voice that had thousands of girls, and guys, willing to do
anything for him, was now nothing more than a pale shadow, a cold imitation
of what should be a warm, gentle voice.
	"Justin, what's going on? You don't normally just sit on top of a
roof, while it's freezing, especially not in just a t-shirt and boxers."
	Justin turned his head from Jc, and looked out at the city once
again. He couldn't tell Jc what had happened. He knew Jc cared, and would
comfort him, but he didn't want comfort. To need comfort, was to admit that
there was pain, and even though the pain had been extraordinary, it was now
just a dull ache, a void into which nothing came back out of.
	"Just leave me alone Jc."
	"Justin I..."
	Justin's head snapped back to Jc in a flash. In those dead and
lifeless eyes a spark appeared. This was a spark born of anger and rage,
not at Jc, but at the source of his pain. Kyle.  Yet Kyle wasn't here, and
Jc was. Justin needed an outlet, any outlet, and Jc had presented himself
as a target.
	"I said get out! I do not need you here Jc! I don't need you
hanging around me like a little chick, or a male dog in heat. I don't need
you treating me like a child, like some sort of mentally retarded child
that can't take care of itself! I do not need you to hang around me like my
mother, and I most definitely do not need you!  Now get out of here!"
	An old axiom persists in the world of mortal men and women. A
child's singsong, used to bolster courage in the face of playground
bullies. The axiom went "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words
can never hurt me!"
	The author of that axiom, had he or she seen the look on Jc's face
at that instant would have immediately scrapped the singsong as a lie.
	The look on Jc's face was the look of one who had just lost
something that was more precious to him, than anything in the world, and
something more precious to him than he ever realized. In his chest, he
could feel his heart shattering into a thousand pieces at the hate filled
words that spewed from Justin's mouth.
	He shook his head back and forth as if to deny Justin's words any
power, as if to deny them any truth, or any power. The look in Justin's
eyes though, caused him to realize that Justin, if only in this single
instant, meant every single thing he said. He neither needed, nor wanted
Jc. At all.
	Jc's gorgeous eyes, whose color now lay shattered by the tears that
swiftly filled them, looked at Justin one last time, before turning, and
stiffly walking away.
	Jc's voice, normally as expressive as Justin's, was now colder than
the arctic winds, for as he walked away, he tossed one more comment over
his shoulder.
	"Far be it from me to bother you. Wouldn't want you to actually
think that for some reason, I cared about your sorry ass. Next time I come
running anywhere to save a 'friend' I'll check and make sure that the
'friend' is really a true one."
	With those parting words, Jc made his way off of the rooftop and
back down to his room. He kept expecting Justin to follow him, but there
was no hint of motion from above. He quickly reached his room, and walked
through the still open door, closing it behind him.
	He threw himself on the bed, and fresh tears started. He couldn't
believe how hateful Justin had been. Those words just kept echoing in his
mind, increasing the pain each moment...
	He never sensed the bare whisper of motion, nor felt the smooth
lips up on his cheek. Nor did he hear a soft whisper as it left the room
say, "No offense Jc, but I do hope this is the last time we meet
tonight. May your sleep be restful, no more dreams of Lance for
tonight...sleep well mortal man..."
	Back up on the rooftop, Justin barely heard Jc's final remarks. In
fact he was barely aware of his own words. It was as if some automatic
response, an uncontrolled defense had sprung up and lashed out at Jc, at
anyone that was around him.


Unaware to the young singer, in his heart, one of those single strands of
love and friendship, that had remained in the wake of the flood of pain
following Kyle's bitter words. One strand, a little brighter than the rest,
shuddered for a moment, and than pulled taught. This glistening strand was
pulled so tight that the strings that made it up began to unwind, making it
more fragile as time went by...


Hall of the Gods

	Mortals often stare at the sky and whimsically wonder what it would
be like to have the power of flight. They often stare at there fellow
mortals and wonder what it would be like to be able to see into the minds
and the hearts of those around them. Often times a mortal will wish with
all their heart to be able to be another, if even for a few precious
moments.
	There are moments in a mortal's life that they desire nothing more
than to hear the voice of a loved one long since dead. To be able to tell
those people how much they cared about them.
	Mortals however are easily amused. Such a simple thing as dropping
a single stone in to a still pond, and watching the ripples, can bring a
smile to a mortal face. Watching a child, any child, not just one of their
own, laugh and play in the sun, can make a mortal, for a time, forget their
troubles and remember back to a simpler time, when they to, were a child.
	On the flip side of this, is that mortals are often easily
frightened. A quick sound, a flash of motion, all can make the hairs on the
back of a mortal's neck stand up in terror. A mortal fear, that seems to be
almost universal, is the fear of loneliness. Arm in arm with this fear of
being alone, is the fear of silence.
	Some mortals revel in silence, feeling no more secure at any point
of the day, than when they are enwrapped in a cloak of gorgeous silence. To
others, that very same silence that brings one joy can reduce another to
the level of a crying child, filled with fear at the absence of sound.
	It is these mortals that, if they stood in the Hall of the Gods
that afternoon, would have stared around in shock as the cacophony that
normally permeated the air of the citadel, became so low that a falling
feather would have caused a sound so loud that those assembled would have
turned in shock as the echoing reverberation filled the hall.
	The reason for this sudden lack of any type of noise was the
announcement of the young man that stood before the dais upon which the
King and the Queen of the gods sat.
	This young man, clad in a white tunic that stopped at mid calf,
with wings of an angel sprouting from his shoulders, stood defiantly before
the dais. His sapphire eyes were as hard as stone, and his body language of
one that was not going to back down from his stand.
	Those that sat upon the dais however, were not so still.
	"Cupid, what means you by this statement? Hast thou lost thine
immortal mind? Thou canst not simply remove the Power of Love from the
breasts of mortals!"
	"Thou art wrong oh noble Zeus. I can. Love is under my power, my
control. It is my gift to the world, much as fair Demeter gives life to the
world, yet only during those times that her daughter, Persephone, is not
within the domain of thine brother, Hades."
	"That is a different situation Cupid. Demeter, in her grief, canst
not give life to the world, but has sworn, that with the return of her
daughter to her, she shall again feel the ability to grant life to the
mortal earth."
	Cupid shook his head, and a smile split his face. This smile
however was not one of joy, or of mirth, but of scorn. Zeus himself was
held in shock, that a god would dare to show scorn to him.
	"Fair Demeter, removes her gift in grief. I am removing my gift in
rage. There is no longer love of the mortal world in my heart, only pity,
scorn, and anger. Though pity can often lead to love, the presence of the
other two, do remove the possibility of love for this race returning to my
heart."
	Hera decided that Zeus, for all his wisdom and power, was gaining
no ground in the argument with Cupid. He was in fact losing quite badly.
	"Cupid, even those in love, often feel a time of separation. They
will often feel at one point that the other holds them in contempt, and
that the love has gone out of the relationship. However, if that same
couple works at it, tries to reestablish the bonds of love, than often they
will find that they can indeed rekindle the flame they had thought that
they had lost."
	Cupid stared at Hera. Had she not listened to a word she said? Had
she simply dismissed it as soon as she heard it revolved around a mortal
life, and thus was not of immortal, eternal, galactic, or even 'practical'
concern?
	"That is a valid argument m'lady, however the reason I am here
today, is not because I am not in love, nor is it because the one I spoke
of, feels that the other has fallen out of love with him. It is because the
one he loved did their best to ensure that the words that were used to
split the relation ship would be the most hurtful of all that could
possibly be used. With no thought whatsoever to the feelings of the one to
whom he had professed love to in the past, the one with whom he had shared
many secrets of the heart, the one who he shared his dreams with, his
strengths and his weaknesses.
	"That is the reason I am here. I could overlook this if this was
the exception to the rule, but rather this seems more and more to be the
rule rather than the exception. Furthermore, at the instant that this
occurred, the mortal did, unknowingly albeit, rip from his heart the
capacity to love. In his pain a storm of anger, fear, remorse, depression,
pain, and sadness ripped through his body, heart and soul, leaving nothing
standing in its wake. Of those that were able to survive that storm, only a
few of the once many bonds remained: those to his family, and those of his
band mates.
	"Yet still would I have gone on in ignorance not knowing the events
that had occurred, were it not for the fact that in doing so, the
shattering of those bonds of love reached out to me here in Greece, and
caused me such pain, that I faltered while aloft in the sky, and fell
towards the ground."
	During his speech Cupid's voice became harder, stronger, more full
of steel, and totally devoid of life. It was a voice that could strip paint
off the walls, and cause a child that heard it to begin to cry tears that
would be unrelenting. This voice held in it such contained rage and anger,
that an adult having heard it, would have run in terror, for fear that the
rage and anger would focus upon them, and cost them there very lives.
	"Cupid I fail to understand how it is that you think that you have
the power to remove love from mortal hearts." Zeus stated calmly. "We have
all suffered a loss of power as time has gone by and mortals have begun to
believe in their 'science.'"
	"Quite simple lord Zeus. Each year as St Valentine's Day
approaches, my power grows. The figures of myself on windows, cards,
candies, and in flowers on sticks appear more and more frequently the
closer we get to that day. My name is mentioned far more during this period
than the rest of the year. During this period I am almost back at the power
levels I enjoyed during the period of the Golden age of Greece or
Rome. During this time, I DO have the power to reach out and rip the power
of love from every mortal breast!"
	Zeus could hardly believe the way Cupid was acting. Never once in
the history of the gods had cupid had anything other than a sunny
disposition, and a ready smile. Yet here he was issuing edicts as if he
were the King of the Gods. It was time to remind him who it was that was in
power.
	Zeus's eyes seemed suddenly filled with the power of lightening,
and a tornado force wind ripped through the hall, while a blast of thunder
shook the deities gathered. His voice took on a tone harsher than Cupid's
had been, and became filled with an authority that was used to getting it's
own way.
	"You shall not raise your hand against any mortal from this day
forth unless thou art doing so at the request of one who is higher in
station that thou art. As such, thine power is hereby limited and chained,
so that it may not be used unless within the confines of the rules I have
stated!"
	Cupid stared defiantly at Zeus as a rage filled his eyes. Lightning
gathered at Zeus's hand and arched out to strike Cupid where he stood, and
make Zeus's edict come true.
	Cupid tossed back his head and screamed into the howling winds, "Oh
ye Mistresses of Fate. I summon thee. If I have moved beyond my power, than
let Zeus's bolt strike me where I stand. Otherwise, halt it where it
flies!"
	To those that have seen everything in the world, nothing is new. To
those that have lived for centuries, all things have been done, immortal
and mortal. To those that nothing was new, and where they were nothing left
but a holdover from the past, life was hardly worth anything.
	Yet every now and than something will happen that is new, even for
those that have seen it all. Something that will give them the ability to,
for a few more centuries, endure in that which others, call life.
	Here on that day, in that place, and at that time, such an event
occurred. Cupid's cry echoed through the hall and beyond, cutting through
time and space. And in the wake of that cry, something that had never
before been seen by any of those here gathered occurred.
	Zeus's lightning bolt, charged with his edict to limit Cupid's
powers, froze in mid flight.


Darkness at the Edge of Time

	Children, when presented with a dime and a nickel, and asked to
pick the one of greater value, will almost always pick the nickel. They
assume that the nickel, which is larger than the dime, must be more
valuable.
	The dime however, though smaller, is worth twice the nickel. Yet,
size is not always one of the key factors in value or in usability, ask a
man, he'll probably agree.
 	Also, size is relative to the one that is looking at it. To us, the
Earth is a large massive object floating in space, yet to someone viewing
the Milky Way galaxy, it is barely even a speck, thus giving credit to
'good things to come in small packages.'
	However, not everything in a small package is good, and sometimes
smaller, is worse than the large.
	At the edge of the galaxy, in a location that borders on the planes
of reality and illusion, and bends the barriers of time, to exist in a spot
that neither space nor time can touch, lays the pocket.
	A pocket of such small magnitude that an eye, either mortal or
immortal, would pass over it even if it was a single black dot in a field
of white. A pocket however of such density, that a black hole would be
swallowed by the gravitational pull of the pocket.
	This pocket was millennia old, and contained within it the full sum
of reality, and the vast emptiness of the void. It contained the intense
light of life, and the overwhelming darkness of death. All the power of the
multiverse was contained within, yet it was weak as a newborn kitten.
	This twisted amalgamation of all that was, all that is, all that
could be, and all that that never would be, and never was, had never
born. It had simply existed forever.
	From this were all things born, and to this would all things
return. It was full, yet it hungered for more. Yet this isn't the worst
part of all.
	For within this pocket, was a living entity, full of consciousness,
and awareness. There was no spot in the galaxy it couldn't turn its
attention to, and see all that transpired. At the moment, its attention was
concentrated the planet of earth, and the actions of one of the self styled
"Gods of Olympus." He sneered at the memories of these beings, and his
children, all of which claimed to have created the universe.
	Fools! To think that they had actually had the audacity, or the
ability to shape and form all of creation, the idea was laughable. Yet at
the moment, the situation was to intriguing to be laughed at.
	The being, Cupid, within whom the Power of Love resided, had just
stirred up a bee's nest. If this played out as he thought it would, the
resulting chaos would destroy that world.
	And after all, what else would Chaos do, but desire more chaos?