Date: Mon, 18 Feb 2002 16:25:42 -0500
From: Writer Boy <writerboy69@hotmail.com>
Subject: jc's hitchhiker - part 70

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've
enjoyed hearing from all of you.

This season would not have happened if not for a discussion I had with
Clive, who is generous enough to cohost this story on his site. Stop and
tell him hello at www.authorclive.co.uk.

Back to the story in progress.

***Justin***

The television continued to babble on as Chris sat and held onto me, and I
fought to get myself under control. I reached out for the remote and
clicked it off, and pulled away from him.

"Justin?" Chris asked, as I wiped at my eyes.

"I have to go pack, too," I said. "We have to get to the airport, all of
us."

"Justin, wait," Chris said, grabbing my arm. I turned back, and saw his
brown eyes, wide with concern. "Justin, I know you're not ok. Are you sure
you want to do this?"

I sighed. I didn't want to do this, didn't want to even think about it, but
I had to.

"Chris, this is my fault," I said, shaking my head. "I never made Josh face
any of this, never made him see what was wrong. It's my fault that Jack has
been alone, having God knows what happen to him all this time. I've been
distracting Josh, I've been keeping him from thinking about Jack. There
were clues, Chris, so many clues, and Josh didn't want to face them, so I
helped him hide from them."

"Justin, it wasn't just you," Chris said, as I continued to sob slowly. "We
all went along with it, because we all believed it."

"No, we didn't," I said, shaking my head. How could I have allowed myself
to be so selfish? I hadn't changed at all. "You hired that investigator."

"Who didn't find anything," Chris pointed out, grabbing my shoulders.
"Justin, look at me. What happened to Jack isn't your fault. Maybe it
looked funny at first, but you were right there working on it, trying to
find him. And then, later, we all believed it, Justin, even JC. Don't blame
yourself for not seeing this, because no one would have. Maybe the first
note looked funny, but there was that damn postcard. Maybe we couldn't
figure out why Jack would leave, but Justin, it really looked like he did."

"And now he's back," I said, turning away. "And Josh is going back to him."

I began to walk toward the stairs, and heard Chris behind me.

"Justin, wait a second, please," he said. I turned back and saw Chris
looking at me carefully. "Justin, none of us have really talked about, you
know, you and Josh. I saw what you just did for him. If you, you know, if
you need to talk about it, I'm here."

"I'll be fine," I lied, walking up the stairs.

Josh and I got dressed quickly, listening to Chris on the phone downstairs
as he called Joey and Lance, coordinating our plans. Josh made a deliberate
effort not to look at me, to keep his eyes on what he was doing. Neither
one of us mentioned why he had a bag at my house, or why he had clothes
here. We both pretended nothing was wrong, that there was nothing between
the two of us, and I felt my heart breaking a little more with every second
that went by. A half hour ago, we had been in the kitchen, making
breakfast, holding each other. Now, everything had changed.

"Josh, what are you thinking?" I asked. "Please, please talk to me."

"Justin, what if he doesn't still love me?" Josh asked quietly, sitting on
the bed. "We didn't do anything, Justin. I didn't look for him, didn't try
to find him.  Carla was right. I gave up on him."

"No you didn't," I said, putting an arm around his shoulders as I sat next
to him. I heard Chris's words in my ears, and decided that I should at
least rephrase them.  "Josh, you were tricked. We all were. Jack will know
that, and he'll understand."

"What about the rest, Justin?" Josh asked, turning to face me. His eyes
were wet again, and his lip was quivering. I realized as he took my hand
that he was shaking. "Will he understand the rest? Will he understand about
us?"

I swallowed. In the story of the Little Mermaid, not the Disney one, but
the original, it talks about what it was like for her to walk on land. My
mom used to read me stories when I was little, and that one always stuck in
my head, somehow. It said that every step she took on land with her new
feet would feel like she was walking on knives, that she would pay for each
footstep with her pain, and as I spoke, I realized I knew how she felt.  I
knew what it was like, because every word that came out of my mouth stabbed
my heart. When I was little, I always wondered how she could do it, why she
would keep walking if it caused her so much pain, when it would have been
so much easier for her to just get back into the ocean and forget the rest,
and I realized now that sometimes you love someone else more than you love
yourself.

"Josh, I helped you through a rough spot, that's all," I said. "You and I
love each other because we're friends, best friends, just like we
agreed. Jack will understand that, Josh."

Josh swallowed, and I could see that he wanted to say something else, but I
cut him off.

"Chris is waiting for us," I said, standing. I grabbed our bags and began
to walk toward the door.

"Justin, I never wanted to hurt you," Josh said quietly behind me.

"I know you didn't, Josh," I answered. "Best friends. That's all it ever
was. And if we're a little closer than most best friends, well, that can't
really be a bad thing, can it?"

"I guess not," Josh said, following me. "Best friends."

Yeah, best friends. Josh might be willing to accept that, but what about
me?  Where did this leave me now? I had been with Josh these past few
weeks, and we'd gotten so much closer, and I started to believe that he
loved me, but really he had just been waiting for Jack. Actually, that
wasn't fair. Josh loved me as much as he could, and he had been honest with
me. He told me he couldn't love me the way I loved him, and I told him that
was ok, but I had lied again. I had been holding the secret hope that Josh
would grow to love me, and it seemed like he was.

And now Jack was back.

I wanted to cry all over again.

The three of us met Joey at the bottom of my driveway, piling into his car
along with Vlada, who had brought a bag for Chris. The big smear of
lipstick on Chris's neck matched the color on her mouth, although she, as
always, appeared immaculate. I gave him a little motion to clean his neck
off. The entire way to the airport Josh held my hand and stared out the
window, looking pale and nervous, and none of us spoke.  We met Lance and
Howie there, as Lance struggled to get us all seats on the first available
flight and Howie attempted to just charter us a plane of our own. We were
all so worried about Jack that Howie and I forgot to be mad at each other,
mustering a surly glare every once in a while, but mostly we were all just
watching Josh. Chris stayed on his phone the entire time, trying to find
out Jack's condition, but no one would give him any information, and he was
eventually transferred to a police official of some sort. When he finally
hung up the phone, he looked grave, and led us all into the private lounge
that Joey had gotten for us.

"OK, I don't want anyone to panic," Chris began, and Josh squeezed my hand.

On the other side of the room, Lance and Howie held onto each other, facing
us, and Joey sat next to Vlada, his face, as always, impassively hard to
read. I wondered about Vlada being there, but she and Chris had been dating
rather heavily lately, and if he trusted her, that was enough for me. We
had a half hour before we had to board the plane, and I waited to see what
bomb Chris would drop now. My head was spinning, and I wondered if anything
could be more surprising than what we'd already heard.

"Right now the details are still kind of sketchy, but it looks like Jack
was kidnapped by Basil Morgan," Chris began.

"That fucking piece of," Joey began, but Chris cut him off as Josh shook
his head, repeating, "Oh, God, oh my God," over and over under his breath.

"Not now!" Chris said sharply, motioning to Joey. He took Josh's other
hand, and continued, and Josh looked at him, tears beginning to run down
his face. "It looks like Basil kept him locked up in a room in his
basement, and has been keeping him there all this time. They're not sure
what happened yet, but Jack got out somehow, and fought with Basil, and
then called 911 for help."

"Where is he now?" Joey asked. I wasn't sure which of them he meant.

"They're both in intensive care right now," Chris answered bluntly, and
Josh burst into full out tears.

"What did he do to him?" Josh sobbed, throwing himself against me. I held
him to my chest, but looked at Chris helplessly. I wanted to help Josh,
wanted to be here for him, but at the same time I wanted him to turn to any
of the others instead of me. "What's wrong with Jack?"

"Josh, I don't know," Chris answered, laying a hand on his back. "The
hospital won't tell me anything."

I looked at Chris's face, and could see that he wasn't being completely
honest with Josh.  Joey caught it, too, raising an eyebrow, but Chris shook
his head.

"Why is Basil in the hospital?" I asked. I'd personally never met the man,
but had yet to hear a good thing about him.

"Jack beat him into unconsciousness with a frying pan," Chris answered,
grinning. Now that actually sounded like Jack. I found myself wanting to
grin, too, a little. "That's part of the problem, though. The police are
trying to decide if they're going to charge Jack with anything."

I think all of us, even Vlada, blurted, "What?" at the same time.

"The guy at the police station said it was a remote possibility," Chris
said quickly, holding up his hands. "They're only mentioning it because
they don't have a statement from either of them yet, and once they find out
it was self-defense, he was sure that Jack won't be charged with anything."

"This is un-fucking-believable," Joey snapped, walking around the lounge.
"This guy locks Jack up in a basement, and they're going to throw Jack in
jail for bustin' out? What the fuck, Chris?"

"Stop it," Josh whispered.

"Joey," I said, trying to get his attention.

"God only knows what he's fucking done to him," Joey continued
ranting. Josh trembled against me.

"Joey!" I said sharply. He paused in mid-stride, glancing at me. "You're
upsetting Josh."

Joey rushed over, dropping to his knees in front of us.

"JC, I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I'm just upset. This is going to be ok,
you'll see. This is all going to be like a bad dream. You'll be back with
Jack again before you know it."

I inhaled sharply, not meaning to, but Joey caught it. Now he was looking
at me like he wanted to apologize, but I shook my head, blinking quickly to
hold in my tears.

"Umm, Vlada, why don't you take JC in that bathroom over there, and get him
some water?" Chris suggested. Vlada nodded, taking Josh's hand.

"Come viz me, JZ," she said, leading him carefully. Josh blinked at her,
his natural inclination to be polite overriding his urge to throw himself
against me and sob. "You haf some vater, and zen I fix your hair. Come
come."

As soon as they were gone, behind the closed door of the little bathroom
attached to the lounge, Chris turned back to us, motioning for us to move
closer.

"I didn't want to say this in front of Josh, because they don't know a lot
yet," he began, and I saw that even Chris was starting to tear up. He
sniffled, blinking, and continued.  "There are, um, indications that Basil
might have tortured Jack. They're not sure yet, but they think he was
drugging him, and they don't know what else, but Jack isn't in really good
shape right now. They're worried that he, shit, that he might not pull
through this."

"No," I said, shaking my head. I wanted Josh, wished he could stay with me,
but not like this. "No."

"Oh my God," Lance said, sobbing now. He hugged Howie, who just looked
stunned.

"Both of you, stop it, right now," Joey said sharply. We all looked at him.
"Josh is going to come out of the bathroom in a second, and he needs us,
and so does Jack.  You fall apart later, behind closed doors. Right now,
Josh needs us all to be strong.  When he walks out of there, we do a group
hug, and we hold onto him as long as he needs us to, until we all get on
that fucking plane. Got it?"

It was odd to see Joey as the take charge guy, for once, but we needed
someone to do it.  We all nodded, and I got up to go stand by the windows
as Lance, Chris, and Howie cleaned up their eyes. Joey followed me,
stepping up next to me to stare out over the runway.

"Justin, what I said before, I didn't mean it to hurt you," Joey said
quietly, putting a hand on my shoulder as I stood with my forehead on the
glass.

"It doesn't matter now," I answered quietly, closing my eyes.

"Damn right it doesn't matter," Howie snapped from behind me. "Jack's back
now, and it doesn't matter how much you tried to replace him. JC is done
with you."

I spun toward Howie, fists up, as Joey stepped between us.

"God damn it!" Chris hissed from the couch.

"Not fucking now!" Joey snapped, glaring at Howie. "Go sit down."

Lance stared at us, unsure again of whose side to take, but Howie turned
away, walking back toward him.

"You two, leave each other alone," Joey said, turning to me. "This is not
the time."

"But Joey, he started it," I began, and Joey held a finger up in front of
my face.

"This isn't what JC needs, Justin," Joey said quietly, and I slumped, all
the fight leaving me. He was right.

The flight seemed to take forever. Josh somehow managed to fall asleep, and
I marveled again at how he could do that under any circumstances. I
couldn't sleep at all, could barely think about anything besides Josh as he
sat next to me, his head on my shoulder. I wanted to switch seats, but
didn't want to upset him. I was worried about Jack, too. We should have
been able to do something, should have been able to help him.  Instead I
had believed those notes, even though they flew in the face of everything
else, because it had been easier to believe them. I listened because they
said what I wanted to hear, and I let Josh do it, too. And now Jack might
die because of my selfishness.

Someone tipped off the reporters at some point, let them know we were in
the air, because when we landed at LAX they were out in force, clustered
all over the terminal, cameras ready. We moved through them as a unit,
faces grim, not saying a word, barely even slowing down as we more or less
pushed them right out of our way. Howie and Vlada trailed a few steps
behind, but they didn't speak, smile, or wave either. We went straight
through the terminal, greeted by some members of our management staff, and
we left one of them to collect our bags and find us a hotel as the rest of
us were led to a waiting limousine, which took us directly to the hospital.

The reporters were out there as well, probably alerted by the crew at the
airport, but we gave them the same treatment, walking past them as if they
weren't there. An official from the hospital was waiting for us in the
lobby, and he led us to a conference room, asking us all to sit down. I was
extremely surprised to see Marshall, the lawyer who had made Jack sign all
of those forms, waiting for us. Josh saw him, and tensed up.

"Why are you here?" Josh hissed, glaring at him, refusing to sit down.

"I'm here to help you," Marshall said, a stack of papers neatly arranged in
front of him.  "Sit, please. Dr. Swan needs to speak with all of you."

"Where's Jack?" Josh asked.

"Can we see him?" Lance added.

"First I need to talk to you about his condition," Dr. Swan answered, and I
let out a sigh of relief. I had been terrified that Jack would have died
while we were in the air, trying to get here.

We settled in around the table. I tried to move away from Josh, to leave
Chris or Joey to sit by him, but he wouldn't let go of my hand. He felt me
pulling away, and he looked up at me, but I shrugged and covered it,
sitting next to him.

"Marshall has produced paperwork signed by Mr. Springer that lists Mr.
Chasez as his legal next of kin in situations such as this, which allows me
to release information about his condition to you," Dr. Swan explained,
standing at the front of the room. "Mr.  Springer is in very delicate
condition right now. We are currently giving him nutrients intravenously,
but if he doesn't regain consciousness soon we will have no choice but to
insert a feeding tube."

"What happened to him?" Josh asked quietly. I looked around the table, and
realized that I'd never seen us all look so pale and anxious.

"Mr. Springer has undergone a catastrophic weight loss," Dr. Swan began
impassively. I was thankful that he wasn't using a lot of big medical
words, but also wondered if he thought boy bands might be stupid, and
unable to comprehend. "He is severely malnourished, although we believe he
will recover, given time and proper care. He was unconscious when the
ambulance arrived on the scene, and regained partial awareness while they
were there, but has yet to regain full consciousness."

"I was told before that there was some thought that Jack's life was
endangered," Chris said quietly, and Josh stared at him, his mouth hanging
open. I squeezed his hand. "Is that because of the, um, the starvation?"

"Not completely," Dr. Swan answered. "On the way to the hospital, Mr.
Springer suffered a cardiac incident."

"A heart attack?" Josh asked, starting to cry again. "But he's only
twenty-six years old."

I put an arm around Josh's shoulders as Chris slid a box of tissues toward
us.

"Not a heart attack," Dr. Swan said, trying to be reassuring. "He did not
experience an arrest. Weight loss of this type puts a tremendous strain on
the heart, and we are told by the police that he was engaged in a great
deal of physical exertion just prior to calling for help. On the way here,
his heart rhythm became erratic, but did not stop.  We're monitoring him
now, but there hasn't been a recurrence."

"What about the rest?" Chris asked. "I was told something about drugs?"

"Right now we believe his system is clear, but the information we have been
provided, and the symptoms we've observed, all lead us to believe that he
has been tranquilized nearly continuously for some period of time,"
Dr. Swan said. "These may have had an impact on him, but, as I said, we
believe we have flushed his system."

"When can we see him?" Josh asked, wiping at his eyes.

"I can have someone escort you there now," Dr. Swan said. "For what it's
worth, I believe your friend stands an excellent chance of a full recovery,
but he's going to need time, and support. I'm certain that all of you can
provide that."

"I have Jack's room under guard," Marshall said, as we stood. "The police
issues were clarified while you were in transit, and he is no longer in
jeopardy of being charged with anything. I'm just making sure that he won't
be disturbed by anyone who may sneak into the hospital."

"Thanks," Josh said quietly.

Vlada excused herself to go down to the cafeteria and find us all some
drinks, and promised to meet us back at the room. Chris gave her a quick
kiss on the cheek, and then we followed Dr. Swan through the hospital to
Jack's room. As promised, there was a guard near the door, casually
dressed, but enormous, and on second glance I noticed that it was Hank. He
nodded at us, and I felt better having him around, because it was someone
Jack would know and trust when he woke up. We pushed open the door, and saw
Jack, looking tiny and fragile in a huge bed surrounded by machines.

"Oh my God," Chris whispered.

We had seen Jack on television, on the news, but only for a few seconds,
and it hadn't really been an up close and personal shot of him. Laying on
the bed on his back, with the sheet pulled up under his arms, dressed in
one of those stupid paper hospital gowns, he looked so hurt and gaunt. It
barely looked like Jack at all. He was pale, and his hair was longer than
I'd ever seen it. He had a beard, something I'd also never seen him with,
and he had deep hollows under his eyes. He was breathing on his own, but
there were wires and monitors snaking under his gown, and a tube in his
arm. Josh took the chair by his bed, carefully taking his had, as if afraid
he'd break it, and the rest of us kind of circled around. Tears were
running down Josh's face, but he kept his eyes open, staring at Jack, his
face empty.

"Is he, do you know when he'll wake up?" Lance asked quietly, holding
Howie's hand.

"He's not sedated, so he could wake at any time," Dr. Swan answered. "He
might even respond to you, if he senses that you're all here."

"Shouldn't we let him sleep?" Joey asked.

"We haven't wanted to force him awake, but, like I said, if he senses all
of you, he might wake on his own," Dr. Swan answered. "I'll leave you all
alone now."

Dr. Swan left, followed by Marshall, and the rest of us just hung around
the room, staring at Jack, unable to look away. I tried to imagine what
he'd gone through, how he'd gotten like this, but my mind kept drawing a
blank. I just couldn't comprehend it.  The Jack on the bed bore so little
resemblance to the snappy, sarcastic, slightly neurotic Jack that we were
all used to, the one that he was frozen in my mind as.

"How could this happen?" Josh asked quietly, whispering. "How could I let
this happen to him?"

"Josh, this isn't your fault," Joey said, putting a hand on Josh's
shoulder.  "This isn't any of our fault, but especially not yours. If you'd
known, you wouldn't have let Jack be hurt like this."

"I should have known," Josh said, shaking his head. "I should have known
Jack wouldn't leave me. Why didn't I see it? Why didn't I know? I should
have felt it, inside. I should have known he was in trouble."

None of us knew what to say to that. I'd tried to reassure him before we
left my house, but he hadn't wanted to listen then, either. Josh probably
wouldn't believe any of us until Jack woke up and told him it wasn't his
fault. As if me thinking it was enough, we all anxiously stared at the bed
when we heard a change in Jack's breathing. I don't know if we thought he
was waking up, or if we were scared he was going to die right there in
front of us, but suddenly we were all hovering around the bed as we watched
Jack's eyelids fluttering.

"Jack?" Josh asked, squeezing his hand. "Jack, it's Josh. I'm here."

"No," Jack whispered, and I watched Josh's mouth drop open in shock. Jack's
voice was a raspy croak, a voice from the grave, the kind of thing you
heard on the telephone in a horror movie. His eyes didn't open, just
continued to flutter as he lifted his head a little from the bed.

"Yes, it's Josh!" Josh insisted, his voice breaking.

"Josh isn't coming," Jack whispered coldly, his head trembling. "Josh isn't
ever coming for me."

Jack's head dropped back into the pillow as a monitor behind him began to
beep erratically. I realized it was the heart monitor.

"Out! Everyone out!" a nurse said, throwing the door open. "Now!"

We jumped, and pushed out into the hallway as another nurse and some other
people came running down the hall, bringing one of those crash carts with
them.

"What's happening?" Josh screamed, holding onto me as I watched in shock.

"Someone get them to the lounge," Dr. Swan snapped, following the cart into
the room.  A nurse appeared and began herding us down the hall. In the
lounge Josh clung to me, sobbing.

"What's happening? What's happening to him?" Josh sobbed, wetting the front
of my shirt.

"I don't know," I answered, running my hands in circles over his back. "I
don't know, Josh, but he has all those people, all those doctors, in
there. He'll be ok."

"Did you hear what he said?" Josh asked, his voice barely a squeak as he
began to sob harder.

"He didn't mean it, Josh," I said, holding him as he shook against me,
sobbing painfully.  "That wasn't Jack."

Josh didn't answer. He let out an inarticulate, strangled cry against me,
but no words. I held him, unsure of what else to do, and then I felt
another set of arms around us, as Chris grabbed him from the other side. I
felt another, and Joey was at my side, followed by Lance, and even by
Howie, all of us holding onto Josh, lending our strength to him as we drew
it from each other. No matter what else, in the end we are always a family,
always there for each other, and we were still holding on when Dr. Swan
walked in.  We let go, staring at him, trying to read his face.

"His condition is stable, for now," Dr. Swan said. "Would anyone like to
tell me what happened?"

"He started to wake up, but then he kind of collapsed," Chris answered,
shrugging. "He talked a little, but not really, you know, like he was
totally with it."

"I see," Dr. Swan answered.

"Can we see him?" Josh asked.

"Not all together again," Dr. Swan answered. "I'd like for him to only have
one visitor at a time, and you are not to do anything, in any way, to
excite him. I'm not saying this to be unkind. I'm saying that you might put
him at further risk of another attack if you do not follow my
directives. We're going to give him until tonight to wake up, and when he
does we'll try giving him some protein shakes, to see if he can keep
anything down. If he hasn't woken up, I'm going to have a feeding tube
inserted."

"OK," Joey said, looking down. The rest of us just nodded, and then
Dr. Swan left the room. "Here's what we're going to do. I'm going to take
the first shift.  Justin, take Josh and go get him some food. The rest of
you can go if you want, too, but keep your phones on, and make sure at
least one of us knows where you are if you're not going to be here in the
lounge, ok?"

"I'm not hungry," Josh said, shaking his head.

"Not an option," Joey said firmly, taking Josh's chin in his hands. "I know
you and Justin didn't get to eat today, and all the rest of us did. Go get
something to eat."

We split up as Joey walked back down the hall to Jack's room, nodding to
Hank as he walked inside. Lance and Howie opted to stay in the lounge,
because they wanted to talk, which was fine with me, since I didn't want to
sit at a table that close to Howie with Josh and Lance so upset
already. Chris waited for Vlada, who passed Joey a coffee, and then handed
the rest around to the others before following Chris to the chapel. I was
surprised to hear Chris say he was going there, but people can do
surprising things under extreme circumstances.

Josh and I sat in the cafeteria, listlessly picking at the food, which was
very good but seemed oddly tasteless. I watched Josh, scanned his face for
any signs of what he was thinking, but didn't want to push. Josh's heart
wasn't mine to question anymore. He had Jack back, and didn't need me, or
so I thought. Josh surprised me by taking my hand suddenly.

"Justin, I'm sorry," he said again, staring into my eyes. His were
watering, and I blinked, to keep mine clear. "I never wanted to hurt you,
and I told you I couldn't love you the way you loved me. I'm sorry this
turned out like this, Justin."

"It's ok, Josh," I lied. "I knew what I was getting into, but I guess I
just kind of hoped, sort of, that Jack wouldn't ever come back. I know it
sounds mean, with the way he is now, but when I thought he left, I just
kind of hoped that you'd get over him, and that you'd learn to love me."

"I know, and I'm sorry," Josh said. He swallowed. "I think I could have,
Justin. I think if I'd had time, I could have loved you that way someday. I
still love Jack, though. He still has that place in my heart. He's still
the other half of me, Justin. You have to know that."

I nodded, feeling the hot, burning tears I'd been fighting so hard not to
shed finally spill over my cheeks.

"I know, Josh," I said. "And you have to go back to him, because it's where
you belong.  You belong with Jack. I'll always love you, but it'll be as
friends, and that's the way it should be. You'll need these, though."

I saw Josh's eyes widen in surprise as I pressed the silver bands into his
hand. He'd left them on the dresser at my house one night when he slept
there, having brought them from his house for some reason, and I'd seen
them this morning when we were packing. Josh, in his haste, had forgotten
to pack them, but I knew he'd want them. He looked down at the rings,
resting there in his palm, the little nick still not smoothed out of
Jack's, and looked up at me, his eyes watering. His face shifted, as if he
was about to say something, but I'll never know what it was, because Joey
called us then, to tell us Jack was awake.  We raced upstairs, hurrying
down the hall, waiting for Chris to leave.

I watched through the window in the door as Josh and Jack held each other,
crying, back together, and then I turned away, not wanting to see
anymore. The others stood in the hall, watching me.

"Justin?" Chris asked.

"I'll be in the lounge," I answered. I wanted to be alone, because now I
was, and I would be for a long, long time.

***

To be continued.