Date: Tue, 19 Feb 2002 20:16:35 -0500
From: Writer Boy <writerboy69@hotmail.com>
Subject: jc's hitchhiker - part 71

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.

***Jack***

"Jack, I'm so sorry," Josh said, his firm arms around me as we sat on the
bed. "I'm sorry I never came for you. I'm sorry I let this happen to
you. I'm sorry, Jack, I'm so, so sorry."

I put my hands on his chest and gently pushed him back a little, so that I
could see his face, his beautiful tanned face, so handsomely
expressive. I'd never be able to figure out how he could still look hot
while he was crying. Me? I got red, blotchy eyes, my nose started running,
and my face just looked wet and shiny. When Josh cried, though, it was
somehow an enhancement. He still managed to look attractive, his sapphire
eyes glistening beneath perfectly arched brows, while the rest of the world
just got to look like crap.

"Josh, stop it," I said firmly. "I'm going to tell you this right now, and
then we're never having this conversation again, ok? It's not your
fault. None of this. I've had more time to think about this than anybody,
hours, just sitting alone on a mattress to run through all of this in my
mind, and there isn't anything any of you could have done.  Maybe if I
hadn't wandered off by myself to sneak a cigarette this wouldn't have
happened, or maybe if I'd answered the phone when you called, or maybe if
you'd gone with me."

"See?" Josh said, shaking his head. "See? This didn't have to happen."

"Josh, you're missing my point," I sighed, brushing my hand through his
hair. "What I'm trying to say is that there are a thousand maybes. There
are a thousand ways this could have not happened, but this is what did. And
with what happened, with the way that this all did go down, there wasn't
anything you could do. I waited every day for you to come and get me, but
there really wasn't any way for you to do it, Josh. There wasn't any way
you could have known I needed you."

"But Jack," Josh began, pushing back my hair. I couldn't believe he was
touching it. It was so stringy and nasty. I caught his hand, pulling it
away from my head and kissing the back of it.

"No buts, Josh," I said. "This is Basil's fault, no one else's."

"But I didn't come for you," Josh said, shaking his head.

"But you're here now," I pointed out. "I've dreamed about this, Josh. I've
dreamed about just being back in the same room as you, just feeling your
arms around me.  I've dreamed about being with you again, and you're here."

"And I'll never leave you again," Josh said, holding me. I felt one of the
monitor pads pressing into my chest.

"Yes, you will," I said, and he stiffened against me, pulling back. I could
read the question in his face before he even asked. "Josh, you'll go on
tour again.  You'll fly to shows, or appearances or whatever, and there
will be times when I can't go with you.  And Josh, it'll be ok. Don't say
things now, while you're upset and afraid, that we can't keep, ok? We're
not going to let this run our lives, Josh. We'll be a little more careful
from now on, and maybe I won't sneak out without a bodyguard so much from
now on, but this is not going to be our defining moment. Basil's taken two
months from us, but I'm not giving him the rest of my life. I won't let him
break me, Josh."

Josh blinked at me, and I could see something in his eyes, something
between understanding and surprise.

"When did you, how did you get so hard, Jack?" he asked. "When did you get
so strong?"

"That's a story for another day, Josh," I said, caressing the side of his
face with my hand.

He thought I'd become this hard, strong person, but really this is how I'd
been before I met Josh. He also didn't notice that I couldn't stop touching
him. I kept reaching out, without even thinking about it, feeling his skin,
smelling his cologne. I kept reaching out to him as if I needed to prove to
myself that he was real. Somewhere in the back of my mind I thought that
maybe I'd cracked after all, that I was still laying on a mattress in
Basil's basement, and that this was all an elaborate fantasy cooked up by
my addled brain. Josh smiled at me, and then reached for the thick, sludgy
looking shake on the side table next to me.

"I think you're supposed to drink this," he said, holding it toward me.

"I have no intention of swallowing that," I said, wrinkling my nose. It
looked like glue or something, paint maybe, and it didn't really smell like
chocolate. Josh looked very serious, swallowing.

"Jack, if you don't drink this, they want to put in a feeding tube," he
said.

"In that case, give me the straw," I said, grinning. Josh grinned back, and
I leaned forward to take a sip as he held the glass for me. It tasted
wretched, barely like chocolate at all, but I'd rather have this in my
mouth than a feeding tube jammed down my throat.  Josh looked really
worried, so I smiled, shrugging.

"Maybe if you just tilt your head back and swallow it really fast," Josh
suggested. I smirked.

"It'll be a little while before you get that kind of action, Big Daddy," I
said, watching him blush. I'd missed his bashful, shy little laugh,
too. "Just keep holding the cup, ok?"

"Sure," he answered, smiling over the top of it.

We heard a tapping knock at the door, and then a tall, white haired man
leaned in. I felt a little flutter of panic, since I didn't know who he
was, but he'd gotten past Hank, and Josh didn't seem to feel threatened by
him. Maybe he was ok.

"Welcome back to the land of the living," he said, smiling. "I'm Dr. Swan.
It's a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance, Mr. Springer."

"Are you my doctor?" I asked foolishly. He sure seemed to be. I wanted to
say something, but suddenly found myself babbling again. "I normally really
hate hospitals, because, you know, of the smell and stuff, but this is
really nice.  Actually, this is the nicest room I've been in, inside a
hospital, I mean, you know."

"Jack," Josh said, squeezing my hand. "Settle."

"I'm sorry," I said, shaking my head. "I guess I'm just nervous. Doc, am I
dying?"

"No, but you're going to have to take it easy for a while," he answered.

"Since I'm not dying, can I stop drinking this?" I asked, waving my hand at
the cup. "It tastes horrible, and, I mean, I just had a sandwich yesterday
or the day before. I can handle solid food."

"We want to start slow, until we see what your system can still tolerate,"
Dr. Swan said.  "We're going to try to build you back up for a while, until
we can get you stabilized. It's also going to be very important that you
not overly excite yourself, or extend yourself in any way. I'm putting you
on bed rest, and I expect you to follow that. And for now, only one visitor
at a time."

"Hey, wait," I began.

"Jack, no offense, but from what I've seen, this is a rather, boisterous,
group you have around you," he said, smiling. "We can talk it over again
later, but for now, one at a time.  I mean it."

I could see that I wasn't going to win this battle, but I was still pissed.
I'd gone from one situation where I wasn't in control straight into
another. When would I get to think for myself again? It might be the
nicest, most expensive hospital room I'd ever been in, but I might as well
still be in the basement.

"Now then, there's a detective outside waiting very anxiously to take a
statement from you," Dr. Swan continued. "I'm more than willing to tell him
you're too weak right now, if you'd prefer to wait until morning."

I looked at Josh, who shrugged.

"You might as well send him in now," I said. "I'm not counting him as a
visitor, though.  Josh stays with me."

Dr. Swan smiled at me.

"You're a fighter, aren't you, Jack?" he asked, smiling. I nodded. "Josh
can stay."

Maybe I wasn't completely without control here. The detective introduced
himself, taking Josh's chair as Josh sat on the bed with me. I asked if we
could do this with the door open, so the others could listen. The detective
was a little wary of this at first, but I explained that I didn't want to
tell this story over and over, and it would really help me a lot to see
them there. The others gathered around the doorway, all but pushing Hank
aside, but he didn't seem to mind. I noticed Justin was missing, and was
rather surprised to see Vlada there with Chris, but didn't have time to ask
about either one before the detective started walking me through
everything.

Telling the story, the whole thing from the beginning, was a lot harder
than I thought it would be. The detective kept probing, digging into
things, and asking the same questions over and over. I know that he was
just doing his job, and that he was just trying to get all of the facts,
but it still hurt to have all those scabs ripped open again, when they had
just barely begun to heal. Some of it left me embarrassed, like when I had
to talk about the laxative night, or tell about bathing in the sink, and
not being able to wash my clothes. I could see that the guys were upset,
too. Several times I would hear them whisper things, swearing softly, and
they would step away from the door for a second or two, collecting
themselves. Several times, too, I found myself crying suddenly, unable to
go on for a second, and Josh held me each time, cradling me to his chest,
whispering over and over that he was here, right here. The detective gave
me all the time I needed to collect myself, but he never shut off his tape
recorder or stopped taking notes.

The nurse came to check on me, taking my temperature and pulse, and
eventually she brought me another shake, which I grudgingly choked down,
giving serious thought to the feeding tube. She didn't call a halt to the
questioning, so I assumed my heart rate and whatever else they were
monitoring stayed within acceptable levels, and eventually the detective
announced that he had enough for now. I was exhausted, but wished him a
good night. The rest of the guys watched him go, and Josh got up to shut
the door as they looked on in surprise.

"Guys, can we have a minute?" he asked, and they nodded. Josh came and sat
back on the bed with me, brushing my hair back again. "Are you ok?"

"I don't know," I answered. "There's so much, Josh, that I just didn't want
to think about ever again, so many things that I just told myself I'd get
through and not think about anymore. I feel so tired, Josh, so drained."

"Jack, I can't believe you went through all that," Josh said, and I could
see that he was going to cry again. "I can't believe that you could be so
strong, that you could hold onto yourself through all of that. I'm so, so
proud of you, and I love you so much."

"I love you, too, Josh," I answered, hugging him. "And that kept me going,
Josh. I knew that I'd get back to you someday. I knew we'd be back
together, and some days that's all I had."

We were quiet, just holding each other, and I felt my eyes sliding closed.
Josh caught it, too.

"I'm going to have them set me up a bed in the room next door, ok?" he
asked, pulling my sheet up over me.

"Josh, are you sure?" I asked. Why would you voluntarily sleep at the
hospital? It was like an open invitation for someone to come harvest your
organs. "The guys have a hotel."

"I don't want you here all alone," Josh said, leaning over to kiss my
forehead. "If you wake up scared, I want you to be able to have me
here. I'll be right next door if you need me."

"I love you, Josh," I said, feeling my eyes water again.

"I love you, too," he answered, standing uncertainly above the bed.

"Can you let the other guys in to say good night?" I asked.

"Sure," he answered.

Joey came in first, hugging me tightly and wishing me a good night. He
promised to see me in the morning. Chris came next, hugging me and asking
if I needed anything.

"Sneak me in some coffee," I whispered. "Good coffee."

"I can't," he said helplessly. "It's prohibited on your diet. Caffeine."

"Come on, Chris," I said, frowning, throwing in a mock-pout for good
measure. "I'm dying here."

"Not funny, Jack," he said, grinning anyway. "I missed you."

"I missed you, too," I said, reaching out for him again. We hugged tightly.
"We'll be running again before you know it."

"Of course we will," he grinned. "As soon as we get you the hell out of Los
Angeles."

We both smiled again, and then he let Lance in.

"Hey Lance," I said, holding out my arms. He hugged me so tightly I thought
I'd hear a rib snap, and he began to cry against me again. "Lance, calm
down."

"I'm sorry," he said, wiping at his eyes. "I'm just so worried about you."

"Lance, I'll be fine," I said, watching him wipe at his green eyes. "But if
you keep crying every time you see me, I'm going to stop letting you in,
because you'll make me feel like I just have this bad effect on you."

"I'm sorry," he said, smiling through his tears. "Howie's been waiting all
day to see you."

"Better send him in," I said, laughing. "Good night, Lance."

Howie was almost as bad as Lance. On a normal day Howie was always ready to
sob at the drop of a hat, and I wondered if the two of them spent their
dates crying together. I gave him the same speech about not crying around
me, and he sniffled and tried to stop, but it was only temporary at best. I
wished him a good night, and then was surprised to see Vlada come in,
standing shyly by my bed. Considering the number of times I'd seen Chris
walk her out to a cab, you'd think she and I would be better friends, but
I'd hardly ever spoken to her.

"Velcome back, Jacques," she said softly.

"Thanks," I said, smiling at her. I'd always seen her carry herself with
such poise it was odd to see her looking uncertain. "Take care of Chris for
me, ok?"

"OK," she answered, smiling.

She walked away, and the last face in the door was finally Justin, who
hadn't come in to see me at all. His hair had grown in some since I'd seen
him, started curling up again, but he was still all radiantly tan and
healthy. His eyes were still bright blue, but there was less sparkle,
somehow. I couldn't put my finger on it, but he looked off, and he stared
down at me as if unsure of what to do. I held out my arms, and he bent and
hugged me quickly, pulling back almost immediately. What was going on here?

"Are you ok?" I asked, and a flash of sadness passed across his face,
blurring over his features like a cloud rolling across a field.

"I had the same question for you," he said, which didn't really answer
mine.  "I'm sorry we didn't try harder, Jack. I'm sorry we gave up on you
so quickly. I should have known you wouldn't leave Josh."

"Justin, I've already had this talk with Josh, and a little bit with
Lance," I said, shaking my head. "We're not having it over and over again,
ok? I'm sure you guys did whatever you could."

"I could have done more," he said, looking down. Why did he seem to feel so
personally guilty about this? "There's so much I could have done
differently. I'm sorry, Jack, but I'm glad you're back. Josh, Josh needs
you, Jack. He needs you."

"I need him, too, Justin," I said, watching him. He was in pain, but I
couldn't figure out why.

"He loves you so much, Jack," Justin said, wiping at his eyes. "Don't ever
forget that, or take it for granted, ok?"

"Justin, I won't, but what's wrong?" I asked, reaching out for his hand.
"Justin, we're friends. Please talk to me. Please tell me what's wrong."

"Not right now, ok?" he asked, stepping back.

"Justin, is it Britney?" I asked. I didn't want to bring it up, but some of
the articles had mentioned their breakup. "I read about you guys. Are you
ok?"

"I'm fine," Justin blurted, and I could see that it was a lie. "Look, Jack,
you need your rest, so I'm gonna go, ok?"

"Justin, come back and see me tomorrow?" I asked, trying to figure out how
I could open him up. It was obvious that he needed someone to talk to. Why
wasn't he talking to Josh about whatever was bothering him? Had they had a
falling out again? "I'm worried about you."

"I'll be fine," he said, throwing on an obviously fake smile for me. "But
I'll come see you tomorrow, ok? Good night, Jack."

"Good night, Justin," I said.

He passed Josh in the doorway, and I saw Josh lay a hand on his arm.

"Justin?" Josh asked softly.

"I'm fine," Justin repeated weakly. "Jack's waiting for you."

Josh watched him go, standing with his shoulders slumped in the hallway as
Justin walked out of my field of view. When Josh turned back to me, I could
see that he was concerned, but it melted away when he saw me. He leaned
down and kissed me, softly, on the lips, and it was everything that I
remembered, slow and soft and tender. I wondered how long it would take for
him to get worked up enough to throw some tongue in there, but I wasn't
exactly the picture of hot sex at the moment. I needed to get better quick.

"Josh, what's wrong with Justin?" I asked, taking Josh's hand. "He seems so
sad."

Josh swallowed, looking away for a second.

"Justin is, um, he's really hurting right now," Josh answered, looking sad
as well.

"Why?" I asked.

"It's a long story," Josh said quickly. He had that evasive look on his
face, but I was too tired to push. He must have caught something in my
face, though, because he sighed.  "We'll talk about it tomorrow, ok? We'll
talk about a lot of stuff. Tonight I just want you to get some rest, ok?"

"Sure, Josh," I answered as he bent down to kiss my forehead again. "Josh,
can we do anything to help him?"

Josh looked away again, swallowing hard.

"No, I don't think so," he answered. "Good night, Jack."

"Good night, Josh," I answered. "I love you."

I'd waited so long to hear him say it back.

"I love you, too," he answered, grinning. After Josh walked away, Hank
leaned in.

"Hey, Jack," he said, waving.

"Hank," I said, smiling. "I'm so happy to know you're out there in the
hall."

"It's good to see you back, Jack," he said. "I was actually leaning in to
tell you I leave at eleven."

"Who's coming in after you?" I asked, worried suddenly. I didn't want to
trust someone I didn't know with my safety. I wasn't even capable of taking
care of it myself.

"Don't panic," Hank said, knowing me too well. "The guy who comes in after
me is named Dom. He's a good guy, Jack. He's not gonna bother you, and he
won't let anyone in but the guys. I'll be back in the morning, ok?"

"OK, Hank," I said, trying to roll over without pulling the line out of my
arm. This was going to be a huge pain in the ass. In the morning, I would
try to argue them into taking this thing out.

I was awakened several times in the night when the nurse came in to check
me, and I tried to figure out when, exactly, I had become such a jumpy,
light sleeper.  When I woke up in the morning, Hank leaned in, smiling at
me.

"Jack, you have breakfast in an hour, but you have a visitor who's been
waiting patiently for you to get up," he said. I assumed it was Josh.

"OK," I said, shrugging. I think my jaw dropped when I watched Vlada come
tapping across my room in her knee high leather boots. "Vlada? Where's
Josh?"

"At ze hotel, tekking a shower," she answered. She lifted a small case,
about the size of a purse, or small tacklebox. She set it on the bedside
table, and opened the top. I saw a selection of shiny, probably sharp
objects glistening inside. "Now, ve haf work to do viz you, Jacques."

Leave it to a model to know how to get me looking presentable in no time
flat. As Vlada went to work on me, I found myself more than willing to just
rest in her hands, and trust her. She filled me in on what had gone on in
the world while I was gone, although most of her areas of knowledge
included only the entertainment industry, as she carefully snipped at my
hair, leaving it long, but making it presentable. For the first time in my
life I let another person shave me, but it felt damn good to have all that
hair off of my face again. She tweezed my eyebrows, and gave me a little
aftershave from a tiny bottle, but I drew the line when she wanted to give
me "just a little" color. She handed me a mirror, and I felt my eyes water
with gratitude. I was still too pale, and too thin, but at least I looked
presentable. She had done something to my hair, too, so that it looked less
gross, but I needed to see about being allowed to shower, too.

"Vlada, thank you," I said, smiling.

"Enjoy breakfast," she said, smiling. She blew me a kiss as she walked out
the door, presumably back to Chris's suite. I wondered if he'd sent her.

I looked around, wondering when the nurse was coming in for the next
temperature check, or blood pressure torture. I wondered if she might be
adjusting the cuff somehow, as it pinched at my arm rather painfully every
time she did it. Hospitals were evil, awful places. I remembered how the
smell of them always got to me, even if this one didn't have that
antiseptic scent that always found it's cloying, smothering way into my
nose. I looked up, hearing the door open, but it wasn't the nurse. Instead,
a large pile of greenery was pushing its way into the room, carried on
familiar leather-clad legs.

"Josh?" I asked, grinning. "What are you doing?"

"You're sick," he answered. "When somebody's in the hospital, you bring
them flowers, especially if that somebody is A: somebody you love; B:
someone who is almost pathologically afraid of being in the hospital; and
C: someone who just deserves flowers."

Josh hadn't actually seen me yet, screened by what was apparently a potted
rose bush or some sort of small tree, and when he set it on the dresser he
turned back and stopped dead. His eyes lit up, and he had this look of
complete surprise on his face.

"Good morning," I said, smiling. Josh crossed the room, sitting on the end
of the bed. He reached out, tentatively, and ran a hand up the side of my
face, over my hair, stroking my chin.

"What, what happened?" he asked, smiling.

"Fairy godmother," I answered, leaning over to kiss him.

"You look amazing," he whispered, kissing me on the forehead. "You look
like yourself again."

"Thanks for agreeing that I looked like crap yesterday," I smiled. He
looked up quickly, and I realized that he must have forgotten how sarcastic
I could be. Before he could say anything, the door swung open again,
admitting the morning nurse with my tray. I wondered if I could get Hank to
start blocking her.

"Good morning!" she said brightly. "I brought your oatmeal, and a nice big
glass of juice, and a milk, too."

"The meal fairly glitters with possibility," I said dryly. Josh snickered,
until she put down the tray and he saw there was enough for him,
too. "Look, Josh, your oatmeal's here."

I giggled as I watched him press a tip into the nurse's hand, and she
stared down at it as if unsure of what to do. Finally she just tucked it
into her pocket, but she threw him another weird look from the door. Josh
and I ate breakfast quietly, mainly just soaking up each other's
presence. He seemed nervous this morning, a little out of it, but I
couldn't figure out why, and didn't want to push. Maybe he was still just
unsettled by all of this. I asked how he'd slept next door, and he
confessed that being in the hospital all night had been odd, but that the
bed really wasn't that uncomfortable.

After breakfast, I brushed my teeth and washed off my face, stepping
carefully out of the bed and accepting the robe Josh held out for me. He
followed me all the way across the room, waiting to take my arm, almost as
if he expected me to stumble, and I tried to tell him that I wasn't that
fragile. He was kind enough to push the rolling IV stand along for me,
since I'd kind of forgotten it was there. I remembered that today I wanted
to see about getting it taken out, and also wanted to ask when I'd be
allowed to shower again. I hadn't been in a shower in months, and I was
anticipating one with the same feeling that most little kids hold out for
Christmas morning.

The guys all stopped in to say hi after breakfast, and I implored them to
please go out to enjoy themselves, and not hang around the hospital all
day.

"Jack, we're here for you," Chris said from my door, as Josh sat on the
corner of the bed.

"Chris, I know, and I appreciate it, but this is about as entertaining as
the show is gonna be," I said, gesturing at the room and the bed. "Until
I'm allowed to have more than one of you in the room at a time, there's
really no point in you all waiting around the lounge for your turn to come
in."

"Are you sure?" Chris asked. "Because we really don't have much else to do,
and there are way too many reporters out front for us to stay nearby. I
just don't want to go too far until, you know, we know you're stable."

"I'll be fine!" I snapped, seeing Josh and Chris both jump. "I'm sorry,
guys. I probably sound really ungrateful, but I'm just not good at being
like this. I can't keep having you guys treat me like I'm made of
glass. I'm not going to break, Chris, I swear."

Eventually Chris decided that they would split the day up a little, so that
Josh could have some relief if he needed to get out for a while, and I
could see all of the others, too. Joey, Lance, and Howie left to go out and
buy me stuff, since no one had thought to bring any of my clothes, or
anything for me to do. Justin and Chris were going to stay down the hall in
the lounge, talking to management and helping us figure out what we were
going to do.  There were as many reporters calling now as there had been
when Josh and I had come out, and I was dreading getting back on that
merry-go-round again. Flowers started arriving as soon as I was up, from
fans of the band and such, and I instructed the nurse to please save all of
the cards while spreading the flowers out around the hospital. There must
have been people who needed them more than I did, and I feared my room
becoming jungle-like with greenery.

After everything was settled I lay back on the bed, taking deep breaths. I
wasn't used to having so much go on at once anymore, to having so many
people around, and I felt a little overwhelmed again. For so long I hadn't
seen anyone, and now there were suddenly people everywhere. Josh seemed to
understand, as he closed the door, and then asked if I wanted the curtains
opened. I agreed, as seeing the sky was still kind of a thrill, too. He
pulled his chair up close to the bed, and pulled the tray table up.

"What are we doing now?" I asked, curious, as he reached into his pocket.

"We need to talk, Jack," he said, putting his closed fist on the table. "I
have something here, something that you lost, but we need to talk before
you take it."

"What is it?" I asked, noticing how serious he looked.

This was going to be bad, whatever it was. I heard a pair of taps as he
opened his hand, and when he moved it away I saw our rings sitting on the
tray table. I recognized mine immediately, with the nick on the side that I
had never had fixed, and as I saw them sitting on the table, gleaming
silver under the bright lights, I realized how much had changed. There was
a time when I would have noticed immediately that Josh wasn't wearing his,
but I hadn't caught it until I saw his sitting next to mine. He looked up
at me, his eyes huge, and I waited to see what he would say next.

"Jack, we have to talk about what happened while you were gone," he said.

I nodded, waiting.

***

To be concluded.