Date: Wed, 14 Jun 2000 20:34:51 EDT
From: FishofHappiness@aol.com
Subject: Remembering Petticoat Lane, Part 3

	Hee! Hi again. As if you didn't know it by now, this is part three
of "Remembering Petticoat Lane." I have been overwhelmed by the response
this story has gotten, and I would like to think each and every person who
is taking their time to read it. I would especially like to think those of
you who have written to me about it. In particular, I have to think my best
writing-checker buddy, Em. She's my star :o). I also would like to think
another fan, Cele, who helped me make a decision about this part. You rock,
Cele.

	Once again, I don't know the guys, or what they do. I also don't know
Lou Perlman or what he does. That might be a good thing. This story shouldn't
be read by homophobes, youngsters, or people who think it's wrong to write
fiction about two people who really exist. The title for this part comes from
Our Lady Peace's "One Man Army" off of the "Happiness... is not a fish that
you can catch" CD. The band rocks, the cd is awesome, and I am an obsessive
fan (as if you couldn't tell by the e-mail address).

Remembering Petticoat Lane
Part 3: "I don't want to remember falling for their lies"



	It may have been the unconscious need to protect his love that
led Josh to keep watch over Lance, but it proved to be a wise decision. It
had barely been an hour after the other three had gone off to their own
rooms when JC noticed that Lance became restless. It started small, just
little back-and-forth motions in his head, and small repositioning movements,
but that passive, easy movement didn't stick. In just a few minutes, Josh
found himself with a lapful of mumbling, panicky James.

	"No, no, please, Lou, I don't wanna'."

	Somehow, the gentle Southern drawl became more pronounced in Lance's
horror. He started to literally toss around, seeking asylum from a
nonexistent attacker. JC started to gently bounce Lance, trying to wake him
before it got too bad.

	"James? Come on, James, wake up. It's okay, you're safe now."

	"No. No! Please, Lou, don't hit me. I didn't mean to, I didn't know."

	Hitting? Just exactly how bad had things gotten for Lance? JC's
concern was growing with every sentence. Should he wake Lance, or leave him
be and get a total picture of what had happened?

	In the end, it was the sad, whimpering that his friend was making
that decided for him. He shook Lance hard, twice, and was rewarded when the
pale green eyes flashed open. He was relieved, despite the fact that they
held a wild, edgy look to them. Lance sat up quickly, and regarded
Josh with the almost blank, unrecognizing stare.

	"Lance? James? It's okay. You're okay, you're safe."

	"Josh?"

	Small, tiny smile as recognition and warmth flooded Lance's gaze.
"Yeah, Lance, it's me."

	"What happened?"

	"You fell asleep on my lap after Chris's impromptu therapy session.
I woke you up 'cause you looked like you were having a pretty rough dream.
Wanna talk about it?"

	That was completely like Josh. Always giving everything of himself
when one of the guys needed him. Completely dedicated, completely caring.
Lance was suddenly filled with an incredible need to share, a need to give
back to Josh, even if he could only give back by allowing him to hear.

	"It was about one of the...rougher times."

	"Did Lou hurt you a lot, Scoop?"

	"He..." Nerves were flooding Lance's actions now, he was almost
fidgeting as he related the tale to JC. "He liked pain sometimes, and
sometimes he was in such a rush he didn't have time to fool around."

	"What kind of things did he do to you?"

	"Knives, he liked bondage and control games. I think he would have
been into more if he didn't have to worry about leaving marks. I have...
scars in a lot of nondescript locations. Small of my back, the inside of my
upper thigh. In fact...." James's voice trailed off as he took JC's hand and
moved it up underneath his right shirt sleeve, to his right shoulder. "Feel
that."

	JC ran his hand over Lance's shoulder, and his brow wrinkled as he
came across a series of tiny lined ridges, set closely together. "What on
earth are those?"

	"Razor cuts. He liked the precision of the lines, even if they
didn't bleed as much as he would have hoped."

	"God, Lance...how often did he do stuff like this to you?"

	There was a small, almost ironic chuckle before Lance answered,
"Let's just say that it's probably a good thing I didn't become the
heartthrob of the group. He didn't leave a lot of obvious marks, but.. he
was fond of bruises, and biting. I would never have been able to take my
shirt off, let alone do some of the stuff they make Justin and you do."

	JC stroked the scars one last time before his hand dropped down,
and he quietly asked, "Can I see?"

	Nerves flared, but the answer made it obvious that Lance held a lot
of trust in JC. "Umm ... sure, I guess. There's not a whole lot..." Lance
didn't finish the sentence, he just nodded, and slipped his shirt off,
pivoting so that Josh could get a better view of his back. He wasn't lying
when he said there wasn't a lot to see. There were a few thin, pale scars
running down his spine at his lower back, but nothing that really stood out.
Nothing, that is, except for one vivid, corner-shaped scar that ran across
Lance's right shoulderblade. Josh softly reached out to stroke it, and
noticed when Lance shivered in response.

	"What's this one for?"

	"From one of the few times I resisted him. In the bathroom of a
hotel room in Ft. Lauderdale. He ended up slamming me into a mirror, and the
corner of it bit into my shoulder. And he still..." James' words ended with
a soft shudder.

	"Was that the time when you didn't join us for dinner? You begged
it off, and wouldn't come to the door..." Lance just nodded, and JC clenched
up for a second in anger, before grinding out the words. "Lou told us that
you were probably just homesick and wanted a night away. I wanted to come
check on you, but he stopped me..."

	"I know, I heard him stop you. It's okay, JC."

	Josh exhaled, a ragged angry breath, before he slowly, carefully
leaned down to kiss the scar. Lance took a quick breath, but didn't stiffen
at the touch. "I'm sorry, James." JC moved his leg up into the space behind
Lance on the couch, and he put his arms around Lance, hugging him in a loose
embrace. He was surprised when James leaned back into the hug instead of
pulling away.

	"It wasn't your fault, Josh." JC didn't answer, he just leaned back
onto the couch, pulling Lance down with him so that Lance ended up mostly
lying on top of him. Lance rested his head on JC's chest, and softly intoned,
"What are we doing, Josh?"

	"Nothing yet. Nothing until you're okay, James."

	Lance seemed to accept the answer, he turn in JC's arms so that he
could rest his cheek on Josh's shoulder. He moved his hand to rest on JC's
chest, and relaxed into his body. "The guys are gonna talk when they find us
like this."

	"Let them talk. They'll get over it." JC moved one hand up to stroke
Lance's head. Lance's hair was surprisingly soft to the touch, especially
after all the gel had given up holding the spikes. The hand wandered down to
stroke across Lance's cheek, and was intercepted by another hand -- this one
belonging to Lance. Lance kissed the hand softly in the center, then at each
of the fingers. JC moved his hand to softly hold Lance's, and Lance responded
by taking JC's hand in his, and turning it over to kiss the back as a
finishing gesture. JC softly kissed the top of Lance's head, before yawning
loudly. Lance snickered.

	"You should go to sleep. You've been awake ever since I told you
guys, haven't you."

	The response was just slightly sheepish. "Well, yeah. But it wasn't
that long ago, and besides ... look who's talking. When's the last time you
slept a full night, James?" No answer. "S'what I thought. You've had a hard
day, too, baby. Go to sleep."

	James kissed the enfolded hands one last time. He liked the petname.
Then, he allowed himself to slip into sleep, and this time JC followed him.