"Justin."

Saying his name elicited no response.

JC sighed.

Justin had been sitting in the same position with his head in his hands at the kitchen table for the past ten minutes. His eyes had were glazed over, and he was obviously deep in thought or reverie. His jaw was slack and he looked catatonic in his own unique way. JC figured it was time to snap him out of it. Enough moping.  

JC sat across from him in frustration. "Justin." He folded his hands on the table. Justin was tired. His curls were still a bit short, and today they were also untouched, sticking up a little more in some places than others. It was Sunday, and Justin had barely bothered to get out of bed. He was still wearing his wrinkled t-shirt and flannel pants. JC predicted Justin would stay in the same attire sulking all day.

After all, this had been Justin's typical house behavior for a few weeks now. JC didn't expect much else. He put up with it patiently, well accustomed to Justin's phases and moods. But it was getting to be a little too much.

JC pushed his chair back and stood, leaning across the table to push one of Justin's hands out from under his chin. Justin's head lifted when his balance shifted, and his eyes started to focus. He frowned and then he simply leaned back and slouched down in his seat. "What." He raised his arms, clasping his hands behind his head.

"Yeah. What."

 Justin just blinked, expressionless. "I'm tired."

"You went in early last night."

"I was thinking all night." Justin lowered his arms and took a deep breath, hands settling in his lap. He looked drained and annoyed. "Thanks to you."

"Thanks to me?" JC echoed. He sat back down and pulled his chair closer to the table. "Is that so?"

"Damn perfectionist."

JC frowned. "Alright, babe, what did I do? I just woke you up from your little zoning out session and that's it..."

"I just mean..." Justin sighed and rubbed his hands over his face briefly. "Never mind. I'm just tired."

JC said nothing.

Justin uncovered his face and met JC's gaze once again. JC's eyes were boring into his and he sighed, looking away after a moment, toward the cabinets. He couldn't hold a stare when JC did that. "I don't know."

"Yes, you do."

"It's you. You rub off on me..." Justin chewed on his lower lip. He was studying the countertops now. Analyzing the marble... "I don't know if it's good or bad."

"I rub off on you?"

"You're always so... like, it's all got to be perfect, and... like, I'm trying to do it that way, but... But then you start to look at every little measure of a song and... And that’s all I think about now, even when I'm not there."

This wasn't about life in general. It wasn't about them. "You're talking about your album."

Justin looked back at him briefly, trying to gauge his reaction. JC's jaw was set, and his gaze moved to the wall behind Justin's head. Justin knew the annoyed expression didn't deal directly with the fact that he was doing a solo project, but more so along the lines of the argument they'd had a few days ago when Justin blatantly refused to let JC know anything about it.

"Because if you are talking about your album," JC continued, "you know what I'm going to say."

"Nothing," Justin said, quoting him. "Because I'm not allowing you any leverage to comment since I've denied you all rights to any listening opportunities."

JC was silent for a moment, turning his head to study Justin for a moment. Then he simply replied, "Exactly."

"And you don't like to be talked to when there's nothing you can do about it."

"Complained to. You can talk to me. It's the complaining that bothers me."

"I'm not complaining." Justin's brow furrowed. "Not at all. You're the one that asked me why I was—"

"Why you're unnecessarily overtiring yourself and upsetting yourself about this whole thing when the point of it was just to experiment?" JC retorted. "You were supposed to have fun with it, Justin. You promised us— you promised me — that you weren't going to let it effect you."

"I am having fun," Justin returned. "Until you yell at me for it, and I start to realize you never meant it when you said I could do it freely."

JC just stared at him, silent. He remembered exactly when Justin had asked him, wanting his permission before he started any talk of trying his own thing. It was odd since Justin never seemed to understand the word 'no' when he heard it, and the word permission to him always seemed nonexistant, or at least irrelevant. But he had asked, and with such timidity and yearning that JC had realized just how much both the idea of his own work and having his friend's affirmation for it meant to him.

That thought was just barely keeping him patient.

Justin took a deep breath, and let it out in a shaky sigh. "I can never tell with you, JC."

"Tell about what? I did mean it when I said you could do what you wanted," JC answered. "But I didn't mean I'd congratulate you for running yourself down."

Justin shook his head. "I'm not." His voice began to tremble as he persisted. Lately Justin only got emotional when someone confronted him on his solo ideas. As if that was his defense mechanism.

"J…"

"I'm just saying it's hard when it's just me, and nobody's there, and I'm trying to make it perfect like you would, but it's hard, 'cause it's only me. I don't want you to listen to it and just hear all the things that should have been changed."

"I told you I'd help…" JC's voice was just a little stiff, because even though Justin's words tugged at his conscience, it was different. He wasn't going to give in. He knew what the answers were. They'd been through several variations of this before.

"But I wanted it to be just me… I told you…"

"So why are you saying thanks to me it's hard, then?"

"I didn't mean it in bad way…" Justin replied slowly. He could look really harmless and innocent when he wanted to. "I just meant… I like how you do it… Your perserverance. And I just wanted to do it like that too… but now it's making me think about everything and… And I'm just saying. Doing it that way takes a lot of concentration and I'm trying…"

"You don't want me to help," JC said simply. This was all the same run in circles every time. Justin would act like he wanted something, but as soon as he started to get it, he'd object even more, his independence streak flaring.

"You don't let me help with yours," Justin objected. "And you do the same thing."

"I don't complain about it," JC replied. "I don't act like everything is falling apart." You're too used to being the baby, he wanted to say. You're too used to having four protective guys stick up for you in the studio. You can't be alone.

Justin began to turn it around. "But you come back all tired and you have all these people that call and you and talk about things that I don't even know, and it's like me talking now, but where—"

"Baby. Don't." JC smiled and shook his head warningly. "Don't even."

"But—"

"We talked about this. We talked about this break and what you wanted to do, and what I wanted to do, and what it would mean in relationship to each other. And we promised that we weren't going to let the people that we work with—"

"I'm not letting them anything."

"No?" JC questioned, raising his eyebrows. "Because this isn’t the first time you've said something like that. I've said nothing about who you work with."

"JC." Justin shook his head. "I'm not saying anything. Most of them are okay."

"Most," JC echoed. He remembered introducing Justin to just a few of the people he was working with. Justin had been extremely quiet when he had, almost to the point of ignoring them. He never liked to meet new people. Especially those people that JC was working with and he wasn't.

"You can't alway work with me," he told him for what seemed like the umpteenth time.

"I'm not saying that. You can work with whoever you want, JC. I am too." Justin frowned. "That one guy you were working with last week is a little odd though…"

"You're a little odd, Justin. Stop it. I love you dearly, but stop it."

Justin pressed his lips together for a moment, looking both sad and a little frustrated. "I'm just trying… I was just saying how I wanted it to be like…"

"Justin, I can't do anything."

"You don't let me—"

"So because I haven't asked you, or because I don’t need you to hear mine, that's why you won't let me hear yours?"

"No!" Justin objected. "I'm just saying that's how it seems you want it, or how it seems we made this unspoken agreement or something."

"Don't be so trite. I'm not keeping my work from you for that reason. Nor am I intentionally keeping it from you at all. It's worked out that way. You're the one who specifically won't let me into the studio with you."

Justin frowned, sulking a little. "But… I'm not like… I just thought it would be cool if you got to hear it at the end… And you could tell me at the end… After I was sure of it all…"

"Okay. But then I don't want to hear how you're blaming me for having you analyze it all—"

"Because you'd be analyzing it now if you were listening! And you'd be picking it all apart and trying to fix it like it was yours! But I want to do it!"

"I know you do, Jus. But… Then I don't want to keep hearing about you saying—" He stopped himself. "I'm not going to bother. I know what you're saying. Let's just leave it at that. Do it yourself."

Justin set his jaw. "What? What do I keep saying?"

"Justin, I just don't want you to let all this effect you in the wrong way. That's all. You want to do it yourself, then do it yourself."

"You're the one that…" Justin looked at him as if he couldn't believe he'd say that. "You're the one that forgets what day it is and what time it is and to come home and to shave and to eat because you're focusing on one fucking song for twenty-four hours straight. Then when I try to have like a single ounce of dedication like that--"

 "Justin."

 "You do! You do that to me all the time when you go into the studio." Justin took a deep breath, and for a moment he looked like he was going to cry. But he collected himself enough and just took another breath.

 "Justin, we both get a certain way when we're working, okay? Want to settle on that?"

 "No!"

 "The only thing I was saying… It's just that… You're becoming so preoccupied. You bought this ridiculous house in LA which you never even explained to me. You're never in it except to mope like this and… You're doing this for you, and you forget that sometimes, J. Who are you trying to change yourself for? This was just for fun. Who are you trying to please?"

"You," Justin said hotly, pushing his chair back.

JC said nothing as he watched him stalk out of the kitchen.

Here we go, again.

********

Chris showed up at Justin's recording session the next day.

Justin didn't notice he was there at first. He was so focused on a particular part of the track that they were recording that he hadn't even looked outside the glass to see who else was in the studio. A few so-called 'bigshots' were there that day too and so he became a little preoccupied with talking with them, trying to impress them, trying to really get things moving. When he finally noticed Chris, it was when they were about to take a break.

He slid off his headphones and headed outside the booth. "Hey." He walked over and gave Chris a hug.

"Hey, boy." Chris half hugged him back since he had a McDonald's soda cup in hand. After they separated, he took a sip from a straw, face hidden by the cap of the baseball cap he was wearing as his head tilted down.

Justin shifted his weight. "Why are you here? I thought you were didn't want to be in Cali…"

"Haven't seen you in a few days. I thought I'd check up on you." Chris reached forward and slapped Justin's stomach affectionately. "How you been?"

"You stop at the house first?"

"Yup." Chris nodded. "I didn't know if you were in the studio today. That house is fucking ugly, kid."

"I'm always too tired when I'm there to notice."

Chris shrugged. "Yeah, well. Take my word on it."

"Was C there?"

"Yeah."

Justin frowned.

"What's up with you two? He said you guys haven't spoken since yesterday."

"Yeah, well…" Justin shrugged. "Same old."

"Same old what? You guys never fought until recently. You were too busy kissing or groping."

"Chris!" Justin hissed, giving him a look and then glancing around the studio. The others were laughing on the other side of the room. "Fuck."

"So? What's been up?"

"I bet he called you."

Chris shook his head, taking another sip of his soda. "Nope. Child, I am here on my own regard, thank you very much. Don't you think I care too?"

"Care about what? I'm fine."

Chris took a step closer to him, peering at his face critically. He reached and took him by the chin. "You don't look fine. Your eyes look all dark, man. And you're all pale, and—"

Justin pulled away, glaring. "Fuck, man."

Chris saw Justin's cautious look over at his 'colleagues' and shook his head. "Damn, J, chill," he replied. "What's up your ass? Other than the obvious, that is, except now I don't know with you and JC on the outs like it seems to—"

"Chris!" Justin persisted. "You're so loud."

"You want some?" Chris offered his drink.

"No." Justin glowered.

"You know, he's right. You are being a little bitchy, aren't you…" Chris replied, frowning at him. "I'll let that slide though. You weren't expecting me. I know my presence is overwhelming."

"JC said that?"

"That my presence is—"

"Asshole. That I'm being bitchy?"

"Well, that's my paraphrasing. Of course he didn't say that, exactly."

"What did he say?"

Chris shrugged. "I don’t know. I don't remember."

"It was just this morning, wasn't it?"

"I talked to him last night. I called to say hi, and he answered the phone. Apparently you were asleep. And it was only eight o'clock at night, but I didn't argue."

"Oh."

"How can you look so tired if you went to bed at eight, man? You been partying recently?" Chris questioned. "You been with these people all the time? If you've been doing drugs, man, I'm gonna kick your ass…"

Justin sighed and shook his head.

"You better not be."

"I've been working, Chris…" Justin shifted his weight, crossing his arms over his chest. "Working. I have to make the release date for this thing."

"This thing, huh…? Is that what you're calling it? By the way, I heard the song you were working on in there."

"You did?" Justin asked. Of course he had. He'd been there while they were trying to finish it up. "What'd you think? I was having a hard time with part of it… The second verse… I can't get it anymore."

"What do I think? I think all the songs I've heard sound the same, man."

"Fuck you."

With a laugh, Chris continued to tease. "They do, J… They do… And hey speaking of working…" Chris smirked. "You been working your reputation too?" He continued. "I've been hearing and reading some interesting things about you, kid…" He laughed. "Have you been starting your own rumors again?"

"No."

"It's their own creation, then? Some of them are kind of funny. I've saved a bunch so that I can send them to Lance for a laugh. Have you talked to him lately?"

Justin made a face. "Not recently."

"You should. He needs to hear from us every now and then."

Justin shifted. "Joey said he was having a hard time getting in touch with him…" Justin felt his stomach churn a little bit, thinking about how far apart the five of them really were. He thought about how it used to be.

"Yeah. Well, Joey said the last time they talked he sounded a little down. So, you can try, you know? It'll make him smile, you know?"

Justin nodded.

"What about you?" Chris scrutinized him. "You been smiling?"

"Yeah."

"You don't look it, boy. Just busy?" Chris frowned at him.

"Yeah."

"Can I take you to lunch?"

"Now?" Justin replied. "Um… I think. Maybe. I have to ask if—"

Chris shook his head in exasperation. "Fuck that. Justin, who's in charge here? Whose album are you working on? Who's making the big bucks?"

Justin was quiet.

"You are, darlin'. Now you go tell them you'll be back in two hours. They want a break too. I noticed they're not coming to greet me, but I won't take it personally. Now get your ass over there and tell them."

Justin managed a smile. He missed Chris. 

*********

So they went to lunch.

Justin wasn't hungry. He was too anxious and lost in thought. With JC, and his album, and being alone... He ate half of a burger and then picked at his fries. He felt Chris's eyes on him.

"Eat," Chris told him.

"I am."

"We're not leaving until you eat the whole thing. And we're getting dessert." Chris had finished his burger minutes ago. He was working on his fries, drenched in ketchup. "You're wasting food. It's like you haven't even touched it yet. You know better. Joey would beat your ass."

"Well, he's not here. He could have all the food if he wanted."

"You planning on visiting him anytime soon?"

"I did not too long ago. I want to. He can come visit me. When I do shows there I do. He can come."

"You've got more leeway in schedule than he does now, J," Chris answered, chewing on another fry. "You can fly out with JC and visit him. He'd love that."

"As if JC'd want to go with me," Justin answered.

"So you two are having problems, huh?"

"First of all, can you not act like that with me in front of everyone?" Justin leaned forward, resting his elbows on the restaurant table, forehead creased in concentration. "Why do you do that?"

"To rile you up, that's why. Like anyone was even listening anyway."

"What if they heard? You make all those comments."

"Look who you're talking to, J. You think I'm listening to you? Now eat your burger. All of it, and let me tell you more of why I'm here."

"I knew you came for more than just to say hi…" Justin leaned back in his chair, elbows sliding off the table as he sighed. "I knew it."

"And yes it has to do with JC," Chris continued. "But not you in regards to being in blame or vice versa. It has to do with both of you. Because I've talked to you and I've talked to him and—"

"You haven't talked to me," Justin objected. "You haven't at all. And now you're going to take his side about all of this?"

"I know… But you'll see. Just listen. Eat while you listen, or I will call Joey and tell him you look like a stick. He'll be coming out here to force his Italian cooking down your throat."

Justin reached for a fry sulkily. "You said he couldn't come."

"Just eat, asshole." Chris rolled his eyes. "Now, you've been in a mood, J. And it's obvious. You're tired, you're not eating, you're losing sight of what you're doing. JC says you've been insane about trying to get all this done like as soon as possible."

"He is too! He's been doing his own thing!"

"Eat," Chris replied. "Let me talk." He watched Justin pick up his half eaten burger and said, "JC... He's just as bad. The two of you are exactly the same."

"No."

"I bet. You both are the biggest damn workaholics ever. You have been since you were fourteen too. You haven't changed at all."

Justin shrugged, taking another bite of his burger.

"Anyway. I can tell from an outside point of view how things are going with you guys. And you're both so concerned with the same thing and—"

Justin put his burger down. "He has all these people that he works with now. And he acts like he doesn't care if I don't know. Like, I kind of want him to be…" He paused. "I set out with this idea of what I wanted to do. And I thought I could finish it by myself. I want to. But every now and then I really, really want him to come with me… But I can't do that… But I know I make it sound like I do want it, because I do deep down but… Anyway, he doesn't want me on his team at all. Not at all. He's completely removed of me when it comes down to work. We used to be a team, but now, it's like..."

"You done?" Chris asked. He saw Justin's nod and sheepish look. "Justin, that's not true. He feels just like you do, except he has a different way of showing it. If he didn't want you around, he wouldn't be staying with you."

"But he doesn't want me to work with him. He never says a thing about what goes on inside his studio."

"Kind of like you."

"No. No, not like me. I just…" Justin rubbed at his eyes for a moment, thinking. "I can't explain it, Chris. But this is supposed to be my thing and if I let him in, I'll regret it. I want to have it at the end and have him hear the whole thing and just smile, you know? And be like, wow, J, you did it all by yourself."

"It's not all by yourself anyway, Jup. Look at all the collabs you have."

Justin paused, silent. He looked back down at his food, frowning. He reached for a fry and dragged it through some ketchup. "Yeah."

"Hey," Chris objected. "I didn't mean it like that."

"It's true."

"Hey… Look at me…" Chris demanded. "Hey, sport. Look at me."

Justin looked up briefly. Then his eyes returned to his fries. He felt his emotions rising again. He almost wished he hadn't gone to lunch with Chris..

"Listen to me. JC, Joey, Lance, and I are very proud of you. Very. You understand that? We love you more than life itself. You're still the baby to us. And we're never not going to support you. No matter what way you want to do this, then fuck everyone, you're going to do it, alright? JC loves you, and the two of you are going to work this out, okay? Fuck it all, it's going to work out. We're so proud of you, you got that?"

Justin nodded, hastily wiping his eyes and hoping it seemed nonchalant.

"Shit, man, don't cry." Chris slid a napkin across the table and reached over to slap Justin's cheek gently. "It's just the truth."

Justin rubbed his eyes quickly, ignoring the napkin. "I just don't know if I want to do it sometimes…" he admitted.

"Then don’t. You do what you want and don't care about anything else. But you do want it. I can tell you do."

"I don’t know…"

"Don't worry about what we think, Justin. You'll always know what we think. You're perfect."

"But JC… JC and music, it's like…" Justin wiped his eyes again. "It's different with him. And he'll critique it and—"

"No, J. He's not going to—"

"But I want him to!" Justin looked up, eyes shining. His lower lip trembled. "But I want him to, and I want him to tell me he likes it! I don't want him just saying he likes it just because he feels he's supposed to."

"He likes your single," Chris said softly. "He loves that track. He told you, and he told me. He loves the vocals. He loves the guitar. He loves the rhythms. He didn't like your prerecorded track at the show, and he told you that, so you know he's honest. Right?"

Justin nodded, sniffling. "I only did the prerec—"

"You don't have to tell me. I know."

Justin was silent.

"You're going to do it," Chris replied. "Just do it for you. Then it'll be good. Don't try to be proving yourself to these people that you're collaborating with, man. It's your album. They're proving if they're good enough to be with you. Don't do it to try to make JC proud. He's already proud."

"Thanks, Chris…" Justin rubbed at his eyes a little bit again.

"And don't stop making JC think that you do want him with you during it. He may tell you to stop, or tell you you're complaining, or that he can't help you, but he loves it when you say that to him. He adores it. He wants you to."

"I do. I need him…"

"Good. Let him know that, J, and it'll be fine. It's only when you get trapped inside your Goddamn stereotyped persona that we start to get pissed, right? When you carry it off stage and when you forget who you're talking to."

"I don't…"

"Then call Lance. And call Joey. And tell them how you're doing. And listen to what I'm going to tell you. I haven't told JC yet."

"What…?" Justin asked, a little nervous.

"Okay. A friend of my mother's was having some trouble with her husband. They were going through a tough time and they were hitting a lot of rough spots. He was seeing someone else for a while, and anyway—"

"You mean like JC and me, or—"

"Let me finish," Chris said, giving him a look. "Burger, J."

Justin picked up his burger obediently, taking another bite and chewing slowly.

Chris continued. "Anyway, my mother and I were just talking about things, and… And she told me what they did, and it sounded like a really awesome idea. Especially because you and C are just way too absorbed with the stuff right now. I thought it would be perfect for the two of you."

"What is it…?" Justin asked slowly.

"Okay. Well, you have to listen to me first. I know what your reaction is going to be, being you are a child of the nineties and all that. You'll think that it's absolutely ridiculous and really hokey and all that."

"I lived in the eighties."

"Whatever, baby. Anyway. Just listen to me. Dave and Beth, that's the couple, found this to be really relaxing, and really beneficial to their relationship as well."

Justin nodded, taking another bite of the burger.

"It involves the outdoors. It involves camping. It involves… Well, all that outdoorsy stuff. But it's only like two days, so you're not like trapped. But you guys have to rely on each other and only each other. You have no studios, no press, no people, no anything but each other and the outdoors," Chris explained. "Like camping."

"But… Like, in the woods?"

"Yes."

"Are there showers?"

Chris laughed. "Okay. I knew you were going to do this… No. There's no showers. There's no… No utilities."

"No bathrooms?"

"May I remind you that you are a spoiled rotten brat, Justin? This might be good for you."

Justin frowned. He knew he was spoiled. Even when they'd started out and things had been rough and they didn't have much money, the other guys had always given him anything that he'd wanted and made sure he got more than them. Justin swallowed. "I don't know."

"Sure you do. Think about it. You and JC. No cameras. The outdoors. Nice weather. Trees, nature, lakes, mountains."

"Where?"

"These two went to Washington. Which is gorgeous."

"Camping in Washington?" Justin echoed. "JC's from Washington, and there's not really—"

"Justin. Tacoma Dome Washington. North of California.. Do I have to reference states to you by their arenas? Come on, child, you did geography. I remember you did."

"I assumed you meant DC."

"No. The state."

Justin nodded. "I caught on."

"What do you think?"

"It sounds kind of crazy. Do we get a camper, or tents, or a cabin, or what?"

"Finish eating and we'll talk about it more."

********

"You're back."

Chris nodded. He'd returned to the house and found JC set up behind a keyboard, a notebook balanced on his knee. He tapped a pencil impatiently against the page and looked at Chris as though he expected him to say something and then leave.

Chris did say something. "Yep, I'm back." But he didn't leave.

JC looked at him for another moment, and then down at his notebook and keyboard. "Well?"

"He's a good kid." Chris moved to take a seat on the couch at the other wall of the room. "I took him to lunch and then dropped him back off at the studio.

"Did you hear anything?"

"Off the album, you mean?" Chris asked, slouching a little in relaxation. "Yeah, I heard him doing one. I told him it sounded exactly like the others."

JC nodded, jaw slack. He got off beat in his tapping the pencil for a second. "I wouldn't know."

"I know, but you'll hear it. It'll be like a gift. When you finally hear it."

JC looked up at him, eyes imploring. "Is he good? How's it sound? All he does is think about it… Is it any good?"

Chris nodded. "It's good. They'll tear him apart anyway, you know that."

That's what JC was worreid about. "How about the people he's working with?"

Chris could hear the concern in JC's voice. JC was overprotective. He always had been, barely refraining from holding Justin's hand throughout everything they'd ever been through. It was obvious in the little gestures he did make, and had become even more evident to the others in private after the two had admitted to having a relationship.

"I don't know," Chris admitted. "I've never talked to them for any extended period. I think they're fine, JC. Justin wants to work with them."

"Does he? Or is he just trying to reach for this goal that was so kindly developed by our so-called Goddamn twisted public relation committee? They told him what would look good. They told him who he'd fucking soar with if he latched onto them. And he's doing everything right according to the rules."

"Justin has never followed the rules," Chris answered, a little surprised by JC's sudden anger. He could tell this had all been building. "Not since day one, JC, and you know it."

"Bullshit, Chris. What are you talking about? He's been putty in their hands since he was a fucking fourteen year old, okay? I'm sick of it."

"He wants—"

"He wants them to like him," JC retorted. "He asked me. Do they like me? What do they think of me? That's all he cares about. He's got no self-esteem, Chris. If they don't like him, he crashes. He's going to crash."

"JC."

"It's true," JC spat out. "And I'm sick of hearing him worry and watching him from a distance work out chords and lyrics and slamming it shut when I'm within even ten feet away. I'm sick of it. I'm so sick of it."

Chris paused. JC the control freak. He'd give Justin whatever the hell he wanted, but he had to have the upper hand. Now he was torn because this is what Justin wanted, and yet he couldn't be involved. "It's all you, JC. I don't think you understand that. It's you he's trying to have like him."

"Me? Well, dammit, like him? I adore him, Chris. Who have I had in my bed for the past—"

"I know."

"But not the past couple of weeks. No. Because I'll be out, or he'll be out, or I'll be up late, or he'll be up late. And…"

Chris had heard all this on the phone. This is why he'd come out. "I know, JC. Okay?"

JC pushed his notebook of his knee, and it fell to the floor with a rustle of papers. He still had the pencil in hand. "I have my own work, you know? I don't need him on it. If I had him on it, fine. But I don't need that. Because I'm just trying out some new stuff. But… I can't possibly concentrate when…"

"How is your work coming?" Chris crossed his arms over his chest.

"It's crap," JC replied. He threw the pencil to the ground then. "It's total crap."

JC thought everything was total crap. He always had a hard time telling himself that any of it was good, even when the others were in complete awe of the music he created and the way his fingers could hit those piano keys and develop those melodies…

"I doubt it," Chris replied.

JC sighed. "I want him to be happy. He's my baby. I want him happy. But I don't want… I don't know. I don't…"

"You don't want him to do it by himself?"

"He can do it by himself. I do mine by myself. It's just…"

"He doesn’t know if he can, JC. He's completely terrified and it doesn’t help that you and him are on the outs. Now just him, now, for a second… He's exhausted. He barely eats. His eyes are just… You can tell…"

"I told you," JC persisted. "He's going to crash. I want to take him back to Orlando."

"That won't help. He's like you, JC. You don't understand sometimes, but he's exactly like you. He won't stop. Not until it's finished. You engrained these certain things in his head when he was a kid, and now he's more like you than you'd think."

JC said nothing.

"He's stubborn like you. He can't stand up by himself yet, but he's not going to let you help him. You should be used to this. This is exactly what that is. He wants you to hear it in the end. And he's trying to perfect it."

"I know."

"But you both have to just give in."

JC was silent.

"That's why I had this idea…"

**********

Justin sat on the edge of his bed and watched with a full pout as Chris went through the   bag sitting next to him. He was in a bad mood. He was tired and brooding, and he wanted to go to bed. But Chris's plan, which he'd somehow convinced them to go forth with, was taking affect tomorrow and he had to be finished packing that night.

Chris was basically unpacking him, to repack him.

Justin grunted in objection as Chris was starting to throw a pair of cords pants to the 'no way in hell you're taking this' pile. "No."

"These are the third pair of pants I've come across," Chris snapped at him, slapping his hand when Justin tried to reach for them. He tossed them to the pile. "Third. Okay? You're going to be in the woods. You can wear the same one pair for a week and no one cares. Besides, you're there max two days!"

Justin stared at the not to be taken pile. "But those were nice ones…"

"Excuse me, you little spoiled obnoxious ass, alright? You're not taking them to go— Oh no…" Chris pulled out a Discman. "No way."

"What?" Justin objected. "That's—"

Chris pulled it away from Justin's reach and dug into the bag to find a CD case. He saw the label. 'Justified- Tracks 1-4'. He shook his head.  "What was the first thing I told you?"

"That I'm going to be outside."

Chris nodded. "Okay. What else?"

"JC's going to be with me. And nobody else."

"Justin. You know exactly what I'm talking about. Unless you want me to break this Discman then—"

"I have another Discman, you know," Justin shot back, petulant now. This was not turning out like he'd planned. Wasn't this supposed to help them? How was torturing him going to—

Chris had the CD out now and with his two hands was starting to bend it. The CD curved precariously between his hands.

"Don’t!" Justin shrieked. "Don't!"

"What, you don't have another one of these at home, do you?" Chris persisted, bending a little more.

"Don't!" Justin stood up off the bed and took a step towards Chris, but the older man just bent it another millimeter, an angering expression on his face. "I hate you!"

"You're not—"

"I fucking hate you!" Justin howled.

JC was at the doorway a second later. "Guys?"

Justin turned and look at JC now, his face red and his chin trembling. He looked about ready to explode. Chris still held the CD in his hands. Justin viewed him again, hands clenching. Then he suddenly moved, picking up the half-full bag that was on the bed, and throwing it to the center of the room. "I'm not going!" he screamed at the top of his lungs. Then he stalked off towards the bathroom.

The door slammed shut loudly.

Chris put the CD back in its case and then dropped it and the Discman into the 'no' pile.

JC remained in the doorway. "Chris?"

"I'm helping him pack," Chris responded. He walked over to pick up the bag and brought it back to place on the bed again.

"I see that."

"You done packing? Just the essentials?"

JC nodded. "Chris, maybe this isn't—"

"No. You guys need time to yourselves. You need just you and him and the elements of nature. He needs rest and you need to relax and it's going to work out. You won't argue as much when there's nothing you can do about it."

"Then why is he so upset?"

"Because he needs rest. And he's going to get it."

JC looked towards the door that Justin had disappeared behind, looking sad. Any time, months ago, he would have never hesitated to walk over and knock. And during that same time, Justin would have let him in without a thought. And things would have worked out.

JC turned and walked away.

Chris was left alone in the room. This had to be done. He knew it. It was ridiculous. Justin was becoming this product of everything. He had no sense of himself. He didn't even know who he was or where he was. Chris found that obvious when he had followed Justin up the stairs and Justin went the wrong way down the hall to his own room.

"Oops," he'd said. "I don't know the floor plan yet."

"Ugly house," was all Chris had said in return.

He held back his real thoughts.

So it had to be done. This was going to work.

***********

By some chance they made it. Justin had been in a bad mood ever since Chris had interfered with his packing, stripping him from nearly everything he'd wanted to bring, until his bag was a quarter of the weight it had been when Justin had packed it. That left room for food, which consisted of a lot of things that they didn't have to cook as well as water.

They were going to have a tent. Justin hoped JC knew how to set it up because he'd never been anywhere near a tent himself. But then Chris asked if either of them knew how, and when neither said a word, that was tossed aside. They'd have sleeping bags.

Chris went with them to the airport and when JC asked him why he was going through all this trouble, he merely said he wanted to help out two of his best friends.

Justin refused to say good-bye to him. He hadn't said a word all morning. When Chris gave him a hug and said to have fun, Justin was stiff, arms at his side. Chris then grabbed him by the cheeks and gave him a big kiss on the lips, intentionally trying for a reaction, but Justin merely gained a look of disgust and wiped off his lips.

"You'll have fun," Chris said. "And you won't be mad at me when you come back. You'll be happy I didn't let you bring that crap. And…" He leaned in to whisper. "I bet you've never been fucked in the great outdoors, huh, bottom boy?"

Justin's eyes widened briefly and then he stalked away.

Chris said good bye to JC and that was that.

**********

Both JC and Justin slept on the plane ride to Washington. When they awoke, neither said a word, and Justin followed JC groggily off the plane to get their baggage. They had instructions memorized. They were to take a cab to this particular place. A particular campsite. Then they were supposed to 'hike' about a few miles and find a place to set up for the night.

The point was to get to the top of the mountain. It wasn't a big mountain, but it would take more than that day.

When they got out of the cab, Justin was reluctant to let it go. But JC was paying the guy and there was no choice. The yellow car soon was gone. And they were left at this abandoned clearing to a trail of the mountain.

"It's a tall mountain," Justin said softly. He put his bags on the floor.

"Those are the first words you've said all day," JC said dryly.

Justin shrugged. He'd woken up late after nearly no sleep. He'd had to cancel a few days' worth of recording. His hair looked like a disaster. He had nearly no clothes with him. He wasn't going to have a shower for a long time. Well about two days. And JC was barely looking at him. Things weren't exactly pleasant.

"Let's try to make the best of this, okay?" JC replied dryly. "You want to start up?"

"I guess."

They were quiet as the started. The incline wasn't steep, but after about twenty minutes, the increased difficulty of walking on a slope as opposed to flat land was obvious.

"I'm tired," Justin said after thirty minutes. He put his bag on the ground and sat down next to a rock.

JC was tired too. He said nothing and sat down on the other side of the path. After a moment of silence, he leaned his head back and looked up through the trees at the pure blue sky. "This is supposed to help us."

"We don't need help."

"We can just keep yelling at each other every night, yeah…" JC replied in an even tone.

"You were the one—"

"What, I yell at you? You yell back. And you always get the last word too, since you always run away."

"I do not run away." Justin sat up straighter and glared across the path at him.

"No? What do you call stalking out of a room and slamming doors?"

"I call it stalking out a room and slamming doors because somebody won't give me a chance."

"I'd say you'd be taking away your chance right there by leaving."

"I'd say, fuck you." Justin got up and grabbed his bags, starting up the path again with big strides.

"I guess we're walking again," JC sighed, getting up himself.

*********

The anger that they felt after the brief conversation fueled their energy. They walked without words for quite a distance up the hill. It was mid-day and the sun was strong.  A good portion of the path had the sun beating down without the shade of the trees.

Although not speaking, they were walking nearly side-by-side, and JC glanced at Justin every few minutes, taking in his set jaw and his clear focus on only the dirt in front of him. He was angry still. And JC was angry too. But his anger was known not to last long. 

He took another look at Justin.

"Let's stop," he said. "I'm tired now."

Justin said nothing but silently agreed. He went and sat down, cross-legged. The sun reflected in the highlights of his curling hair.

JC slid his bag off his shoulder, letting it drop to the floor next to the one he'd already dropped. He bent down over it, unzipping it, looking for something.

Justin's finger traced the dirt in front of him, making figure eights. He took deep breaths; it was definitely a work-out walking uphill for great lengths of time. He took one deep breath and let it out slowly, feeling hot and a bit sweaty and—

Suddenly a hand reached down, tilting his chin up. "Hey," Justin objected. JC held his chin in his one hand and with his other hand he suddenly began to smear something cold onto his cheeks. "Hey," Justin said louder, grimacing and turning his head away.

JC grabbed his chin again and shifted closer to him, saying, "Hold still," as he continued to wipe his fingers across his Justin's cheeks, and down his nose.

Justin's eyes drifted down to see the suntan lotion bottle at JC's feet. He looked back up as JC gave a few more wipes across his cheeks. Then JC looked at him and leaned forward, pressing his lips against Justin's deliberately.

He pulled back a moment later and stood up, saying in a dry voice, "You were getting pink."

Justin smiled to himself.

"Let's get going, okay?" JC stuffed the suntan lotion back in the bag and picked up his things, starting up the hill again.

Justin smiled as he picked up his own things and followed JC. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.

But they were silent as they walked. And the excitement Justin had gotten from JC's affectionate kiss began to fizzle after about ten minutes of monotonous walking again. Once more, he began to think about things. He began to think about the time that he would have spent in the studio that day. He began to think of the plans he had written down in the notebook that Chris had taken out of his bag. He began to yearn to listen to the four tracks, the tracks he knew by every beat, and analyze the hell out of them. Fix them. Make them more mature.

He thought of his house. His house that he didn't even know yet. The one Chris said was ugly. He thought about it and felt incredibly lonely and thought he wanted to burn it down. Because every time he and JC were there it was empty. It was always empty. And he kept going into the wrong room and thinking things were on the other side. And he'd woken up the other night and thought he was in Orlando and walked in the pitch black straight into a wall.

"Hey."

Justin blinked. JC was standing in front of him. He frowned and felt very sad for a moment, engulfed by his thoughts.

"You stopped walking," JC told him.

Justin paused. So he had… He was standing in the middle of the path, feeling speechless and dumb. "I don't want to do this," he said. But he wasn't sure what it was he didn't want to do.

"We have to now. We've already started."

"It's useless. It's not going to change anything…" Justin rubbed a hand through his hair, which was shorter than he wanted and he felt like crying. "I'm useless. I'm going to have so much more to do after we get back."

JC just studied him.

"I want to burn the house down," Justin admitted. "And I want to be in it. And I want my CD to be in it. And I want to forget about it all."

JC stared. "What's the matter, baby?"

"I'm thinking. I hate thinking." Justin felt his eyes fill and tilted his head back, staring into the sun, wishing he'd go blind. Why was he so emotional all the time? JC never cried to him. JC never complained and cried and screamed. Why couldn't he just make it all like JC and have him be proud of it all?

"Talk to me then. You wanna sit for a while? We've gone a long way."

Justin closed his eyes tightly, keeping his head tilted back. "Chris wouldn't let me bring anything. No music, no cell phone, no pens or paper, no cords, no extra sneakers, no—"

"I know."

"What if something happens? I don't even have a cell phone. I have nothing. I have absolutely nothing." Justin shook his head. "I can't—"

"You've got me."

"But what if something happens?" Justin opened his eyes to look at him and a few tears slipped out, sliding down his cheeks.

"Why are you crying?" JC answered. He'd been having his own thoughts, but he was completely lost as to why Justin was so upset. What had he been thinking about?

"I want to go back to the house. And I want to finish it all…" Justin reached up to wipe his eyes. "I want to have it all done. So I can go visit Joey like Chris said. And… And then you and me can go back to Orlando, and—"

"I have stuff to do here, too," JC began. "I can't just tag along, you know."

Justin stared at him, quiet for a moment, thinking, that is what JC did. JC came with him. Why wouldn't he… "Oh…"

"Don't cry though. I'm just saying. Just because you finish… I may finish before or after you… You know? I may not want to go to Orlando right away, or I may want to go before."

"If you finish before would you go home?" Justin asked. "Would you leave the house?"

Justin always said 'the house'. He never referred to his LA house as 'my house' or 'home'. He told people he had a house in LA, that he was living in LA, but he spoke about it distantly, or when it was convenient, or when he was trying to prove something.

"I don't know. I might. Do you want to eat? I'm kind of hungry." JC moved away from him and toward a shady spot beneath one of the trees a few feet off the path. He waited and sure enough, Justin walked over and joined him, sitting down.

"Maybe if we talked you wouldn't think," JC suggested, putting his backpack in front of him.

"But then we fight."

"Justin, you know I don't want to fight with you. We've just… Chris says we're too much alike and I think he's right in some ways."

"I hate Chris. He tried to break my CD. Wouldn't have me—"

"You have the food in your bag."

Justin hated to be interrupted. And he hated when it happened like that because he felt as though JC was implying what he had to say wasn’t important. And Justin felt like his feelings were very justified.

He said nothing in return.

"Justin…" JC began. "I'm doing my music because I want to. No one expects it of me. I don't give a damn if they care or not. Obviously Jive and Johnny don't care, but I'm—"

"That's not true."

"I'm doing it anyway. And it is true, Justin. You got every link you would need made for you, okay? But I don't care. Because mine is for me. But I want to know… Are you doing it because they expect you to? Because that's where the group is right now? Or are you doing it because you want to?"

"I want to," Justin muttered.

"Then why the hell do you keep talking about how much you want to get it over and done with?" JC retorted hotly. "Why are you painstakingly trying to cram as much studio time as you can into the weeks?

Justin stared at a stick. "I'm not."

"You are," JC answered stiffly. "You are. And that's where we're different, Justin. Because I enjoy the work I put into it. I enjoy spending countless hours trying to find the perfect chord. You hate it. You can't stand it and you can't wait until it's done with so you can simply have it put on the shelf."

"That's not true!" Justin said loudly, looking up with shining eyes. "It's the same as you, JC! I'm doing it exactly the same!"

"No." JC shook his head. "No, because I'm actually enjoying the time I put in. I'm taking my time and working with the people I want to work with. I'm not running around to make all these God damn public appearances to please everyone and their dog because—"

"Johnny said that if—"

"Oh, so Johnny told you to? What's he going to do if you don't, Justin? You want to be like me? Then tell Johnny to fuck off. Johnny told me not to bother. Not to bother wasting money in the studio, but you know what? I'm doing what I want to do."

Justin stared at him, angrily. JC's eyes were blazing. He was staring ahead, at a tree, and not at Justin, and Justin was thankful for that. He would not want those eyes on him right then.

"It's not true," Justin answered stiffly, but his voice had lost conviction.

"It is true, Justin. Why do you have to do it their way?"

"Because…" Justin replied. "Because… I don't know any other way."

"You're really pathetic, Justin. You know that? And it's not even completely your fault, but you're one hundred percent pathetic."

Justin said nothing, eyes suddenly stinging with the tears that were starting to well up. He felt dead. He felt dead inside.

JC was looking at him now, saying nothing for a moment. "Justin," he said finally.

"Fuck you," Justin responded.

"Justin, if anyone can say this to you, it's me, alright?" JC retorted. "After all we've been through? Why can't I tell you the truth?"

"Because it's not the truth!" Justin yelled at him, voice getting caught in his throat on a sob that he was trying to hold back. He sounded choked. "It’s not the truth at all! You just don't want me to do it!"

"I want you to do it because you want to do it!" JC yelled back. "Not because it's convenient. Not because they think your ass on the cover of every magazine will make them more money before our group completely falls apart!"

Justin jumped to his feet then, unable to handle it anymore. He stalked away and collapsed to sit at a distance away, his back to everything, pulling his knees up to his chest and covering his face with his hands. Maybe he would just stay here and die. JC would leave and they'd never, ever find his body and he could go down in history as the jaded popstar who mysteriously disappeared, not known to be dead or alive, but unloved by all.

JC sat by himself for a moment, swallowing back the lump that had formed in his throat. He looked at the empty space where Justin had been sitting.

Precious Justin.

What was happening?

He reached forward to pull Justin's forgotten backpack towards himself, unzipping it. He looked for some sort of food that they could have to tide themselves over for at least a little while. And something that Justin would eat no matter how upset he was. He settled on a bag of chips. There wasn't much to choose from.

He got up and walked towards where Justin had hidden himself, balled up. He could hear his tears very quietly and slowly settled next to him.

"I didn't mean to yell at you," JC started softly with a sigh, shifting closer to him. He reached to touch Justin's knee. "But you were yelling at me. But let's just calm down. The purpose of this trip was not to do that." He tugged at Justin's arm, trying to get him to bring his knees down. "Justin, come on."

Justin slowly acquiesced, sliding his legs out, straightening. He looked at JC, face wet, eyes red-rimmed, and he whimpered, "Why do you say that?"

"Say what?" JC couldn't look at him. He couldn't stand it. He started to open the bag of chips, comforted by the loud crinkling of the package.

"That that's it. That we're falling apart," Justin said, voice shaking.

"Who, us?"

"Us. Us five." Justin pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes. "The five."

"Oh." JC stared at the bag. It was open. Now what was he supposed to do.

"We're not. We're not at all," Justin said harshly, pressing his eyes shut tightly, voice choked. "We can't."

JC felt a sinking in his gut. "Well." He listened to Justin sniffling, him taking another whimpering breath. "Well, J…"

Justin dropped his hands and sent JC a look. "We can't," he cried. "Right?"

"Okay. That's up to you, too, you know. It's partially you."

"We're just…" Justin swallowed, vision blurry. JC was a blur. He wanted JC to touch him. But JC just sat there. He couldn't stop crying. All he could think was that if he cried it would wash it all away.

"We're just what?"

"Resting," Justin sniffled. But resting didn't seem like a good word. Because none of them were resting in actuality. Resting from each other?

"What if the rest is longer than you think?"

Justin looked at him, frowning, silently questioning.

"I'm not saying…" JC moved the chips bag, letting it make that sound again. "It's just… Even you, Justin. When they ask you about the group? You're the one that says you don't know. So that just fuels it more."

"Because… Because you said we were going to do it in April, but then Chris told me that Lance said he might not be back then, so I thought… I thought… I didn't know. Do you know?"

"What if I'm not done in April? What if Joey extends his—"

"Stop it!" Justin pleaded, covering his eyes again. He wanted to cover his ears too but he couldn't do both. "Stop it!"

"Stop what?" JC replied. "I'm being hypothetical, J."

"Well, stop!" Justin retorted brokenly. "I don't want to hear it from you!"

"What, you don't want to hear it until it happens and you have no clue why or when or—"

"I have nothing!" Justin took a deep breath and let it out shakily before he exclaimed it. "I have nothing! What do I do after that? What do I do?"

"Justin, you have this. You have—"

"No, I don't!" Justin persisted, wiping away the new tears that slipped down his flushed cheeks. "I've never not… I've never not had you or them or… I have nothing. I don't understand what it is without that. I can't not have that."

"You don't have it right now."

"I do!" Justin answered. "I do. I have Chris and he came and I have Joey to call me and I have you to live with me and Lance… I haven't called Lance, but Lance is there."

"And we love you. And that won't change after—"

"No!" Justin nearly howled.

"Justin, it could be fifteen years from now. I'm just saying that you can't depend on that. You're doing this all by yourself, right?"

"No…" Justin moaned, shaking his head. Even Chris said. It wasn't by himself.

JC toyed with the chips bag. "Justin, remember when you were a kid… And you used to buy the same stuff as me all the time? You bought the same jacket, and shirts, and shoes, and sunglasses… And then when Chris started with his like bandanna thing and his goggles thing, you tried to do the same thing until your mother told you to stop. And when you wanted to get your eyebrow pierced like Joey until I threatened you with bodily harm?"

"Y-yes."

"Well, I don't know what I'm trying to say, but… Just that… You never needed to do that… And you don't need to do like we do… Because… Like… You can do your own thing and be fine without us."

"Without you?"

"No. I'll be with you."

"Then, what are you talking about?"

"Just… Be yourself. I guess. That's all." JC paused, thinking. "There's this quote. Don't cry because it's over… Smile because it happened."

That didn't make Justin feel any better. In fact, that made him feel a hell of a lot worse.

"And I talked to Lance about the April thing. Whenever he comes back we're going to talk about a new album…"

That made Justin feel better. He smiled. "Really?"

JC nodded. "We'll do something." He offered Justin the bag of chips.

*********

Justin forced himself to calm down. He thought about JC. And he loved JC, and everything about him was perfect. And he couldn't ask for more, really, so why not just calm down? Make himself happy, let this outdoors thing work. Just talk. Normal.

"I yell a lot," he said.

"I don't think we're too far from the top. I think we might make it there tomorrow afternoon," JC said. The sun was setting and it was getting darker out. They were beginning to set up to rest for the night.

"Don't I?"

"Yes." JC unrolled his sleeping bag. He had heard his question.

"And I cry a lot."

"Yes."

"You never say anything."

"That's just how you are."

Justin sat at the edge of a large rock, legs sprawled, watching JC spread out his stuff. "Isn't it annoying?"

"Not most of the time," JC replied. "You're just a dramatic. But you have your reasons, and you're honest, and I love that."

"I love you."

JC looked up and smiled at him. "Thanks, baby. I love you too."

"I can't help it. Being dramatic."

"I told you; that's who you are. I wouldn't want you to change." JC smirked. "It was great when you were younger. You'd blurt out anything, J. It's awesome. When you were a kid, we'd have you with a complete stranger and you'd just be so honest. You cracked us up."

Justin just shrugged. "I got away with a lot."

"Still do," JC teased.

Justin shrugged again.

JC watched him, took a deep breath, and wanted to walk over and start kissing him. Instead he sat down on his sleeping bag. He didn't care if Justin screamed and cried to him. Because it was to him that he did. It was to JC that he told how he really felt. And that was what really mattered.

But they hadn't screamed in the past two hours.

Maybe things would be good.

Justin got up off the rock and walked over. "Can we open one and lay it out…" He pointed to the sleeping bag. "And open the other like a blanket and sleep like that under it?"

JC nodded and suddenly thought about how he hadn't physically slept with Justin in weeks.

But he smiled anyway.

They were getting back there.

********

Justin thought it really figured. Now that he was feeling just a little bit better about things, and now that he had a warm, strong JC holding him while he was sleeping again, and now that he was finally not feeling like burning his house down with himself inside of it, something like this would happen.

He woke up, not knowing what time it was, or knowing anything really, other than that he really had to pee and that he was in the middle of the woods in Washington with JC, halfway up a mountain.

JC always looked like a statue when he was sleeping, and this was particularly true with the moonlight highlighting his face, enhancing his bone structure, making him look like a sculpture. And Justin couldn't dare to try and wake him up.

He just had to pee. Sooner or later he knew he'd have to go to the bathroom on this trip, so why not now in the middle of the night…

He carefully slipped out from under the sleeping bag blanket, away from the warmth, and into the chill of the night air. He was still in his clothes from the day, even in his sneakers, because hell they were in the woods. What was the necessity of changing into pajamas?

He wondered what kind of wolves and bear and creatures would eat him while he ventured away, but decided to risk it anyway, because he really had to pee…

He went only about fifteen feet off the path, because honestly, there was no point in looking for privacy. Only JC was around, and if he'd even cared about that, he was asleep. So it really didn't matter, but just for the sake of it, he went that far.

He frowned as he unzipped his pants, wondering if any animals were watching and making fun of him. Crickets chirped loudly around him, and he heard the breeze through the trees, the rustling of leaves and the creaking of limbs.

And then the sound of the stream of his urine hitting the ground. He winced. Why did that seem to interrupt the harmony of nature?

He finished quickly and was about to zip up his pants when he suddenly heard a loud rustling behind him. Surprised, he spun and instinctively took a step back. In a series of unexpected events, his step back caused his foot to get caught on a rock, and suddenly he found himself falling backwards, his jeans slipping off his hips, and he heavily hit the ground.

He felt a squirming beneath him and then a searing pain ripped through him. Something had bitten him. He gasped and pulled up, and heard something hissing and rustling away that he couldn't see.

Oh my God.

Justin was in shock for a moment, a churning in his stomach, searching for a reason why he had all the luck in the world that something this bizarre would happen to him…

He didn't think for very long though. Because his backside was burning and his concentration soon turned to that. Quickly, he got up and pulled up his pants, stumbling away, remembering his direction back to the path as he felt burning, intense pain as he buttoned his jeans.

"JC!" he cried, coming back upon where the man was sleeping. Why'd it have to be so dark out? "JC!"

JC inhaled tiredly and turned over, feeling the hard ground beneath him and frowning. He yawned as he started to sit up. "Justin?"

"Something bit me!" Justin exclaimed.

"I'm sure it was just a dream, baby…" JC replied softly. "Let's go back to sleep… Hm…"

"No! I got up to pee and I fell and something… Something bit me!"

JC started to sit up. "What?"

"Oh my God!" Justin turned his head as if to look down at himself. "Oh my God, it hurts!" he yelled.

JC pushed back the sleeping back and got to his feet, rubbing his eyes. "What bit you? Where?"

Justin felt tears. These weren't his usual tears of emotion and fury though. These were rare tears of actual physical hurt. "On my ass…"

"What?" JC persisted. He almost wanted to laugh. Was this a joke? "What was it?"

"I think a snake…" Justin whimpered. "Oh God… It hurts, C… It hurts…"

JC looked up. The moon was full and bright that night and provided a pretty good amount of light despite the fact they were in the woods. "How'd you manage that, baby?"

"I tripped and fell backwards…" Justin explained in tears. "And I think I landed on it…"

"Of all the chances in the world…" JC muttered. "Was it a big snake?"

"I don't know… It hurts…"

"I can imagine…" JC took his arm and turned him around. "Let me see." He reached around him for his button.

"No," Justin objected.

"Why not?"

Justin turned back around. "It's…"

JC saw his tears gleaming in the moonlight. He took Justin's arm, saying, "Honey… I've seen your ass more than anyone… Hell, I love your ass more than anyone… What's it matter? Let me see so I can tell what happened to you…"

"It was so random…" Justin sniffled.

"I know." JC reached for his button and undid it, then pulling down his zipper. He took him by the elbow and turned him around. "Let me see."

Justin squeezed his eyes shut, feeling JC's hand slip into his waistband and pull down gently. Then the boxers. "It hurts."

"I bet…" JC muttered sympathetically. He wasn't a doctor and so he didn't know what to do. He cursed Chris for taking away Justin's cell phone and any form of communication. He couldn't tell too much. Other than that he knew exactly where Justin had been bitten and that it was very red. "Um… I don't know what to tell you."

"Then don't…" Justin spun around and pulled up his pants. "What if it's poisonous!" he exclaimed.

"It doesn't look poisonous…"

"How do you know?" Justin demanded.

"Well, how do you feel? Do you feel… Um, lightheaded? Nauseous? Like you're going to pass out?"

"I don’t know!" Justin whimpered. "My ass hurts!"

"Well, if that's all then—"

"That's all?" Justin squealed.

JC smiled. "Well, doll, then you're not going to die of a poisonous snakebite. Right?"

Justin screamed.

**********

JC was freaking out himself. What if it was serious? What if Justin was going to get really sick? And how the hell had this happened? In the middle of the night to randomly happen, it was insane. But somehow he kept himself calm, and he convinced Justin that the best thing do was just to try to sleep until they could move more in the morning towards the top of the mountain.

So Justin acquiesced and laid beside JC, on his belly, sniffling into his arm and cursing about mountains and nature and all the "God damn fucking animals…"

JC laid on his side pressed against Justin, kissing Justin's cheek every now and then, saying things like, "Wait until you call Lance in Russia and make him laugh with this one…" but Justin didn't want to hear it.

"Fuck Chris," he whimpered. "Fuck Chris…"

"We'll call to get out of here as soon as we get to the top. The point's to get to the top. I don't think we're that far. We did a lot of walking yesterday…" JC murmured in his ear. "And at the top's supposed to be a town and we can see if they have a doctor… And we can get it all taken care of…"

Justin whimpered.

JC slid a hand to Justin's lower back, rubbing gently. "I'm sorry… I'm sorry… Just don't think about it."

Justin swallowed and squeezed his eyes shut.

*********

The next day was hell. JC judged they had about a two hour's hike to get to the top of the so-called mountain until they finished this. Justin was quiet and cranky, but he was nice to JC, gripping his hand as they walked, holding a water bottle in his other hand.

JC talked to him as they walked, about nothing really. And Justin gripped his hand. He was worried about Justin carrying his bags, but there was no way he could carry them all himself and so he didn't bother offering and Justin didn't complain. He was just relieved that the snake obviously hadn't been poisonous. He had no clue what they would have done.

Justin focused on walking and breathing and JC's voice, squeezing his hand. He ached, and burned, and itched, but he tried to ignore it. It was awful.

Two hours.

It felt like six.

But halfway through, he realized he was just thinking JC. And although he was in pain, it was a different. He wasn't thinking like before. He wasn't letting himself feel that anxiety from before. He focused on what JC had said. Do your own thing. And how Chris said they were proud.

He could hike another six hours like this, his hand in JC's.

*********

To make matters worse, Chris was at the top of the mountain. He was on his phone, sitting on a bench in the shade. Next to him was a big sign that was a welcome sign to the town and also a thank you for hiking that particular trail, at the end a big 'you made it'.

When he saw JC and Justin, he grinned and said something into his cell phone, shutting it and shoving it into his pocket. He got up and walked towards them, sunglasses and a hat on, looking happy. "Fellas," he said. "You made it. How was it?"

"What the hell are you doing here, Chris?" JC muttered.

"I'd gotten an estimate from the tour guide as to how long it would take for two men to hike it and they estimated this, so I thought I'd wait for my favorite Disney boys and we could all go to lunch or something. I knew you guys would need a way off the mountain anyway after the weekend."

"God…" JC rolled his eyes. "Did you fly in?"

Chris nodded. "And rented a car. Which is parked over there. C'mon." He started walking towards a parking lot about twenty feet away. "Pretty quaint town here. I kind of like it…"

"I can't believe you're here…" JC muttered as he continued walking, a silent, pale Justin following him.

They reached the rental car and Chris took out car keys, popping the trunk open with the press of a button. "Throw your bags in here."

He watched JC throw his bags in and then tak Justin's and throw his in as well. Chris studied Justin. "How was it, boy?" he asked. He looked at his face. "What's the matter? Outdoors too much for you?"

Justin said nothing. He shrugged. He really didn't want to explain his bizarre luck to Chris.

Chris shut the trunk as the last bag was in. He gave Justin a look, walking by him. "What's with the face?" he asked. When Justin didn't answer, he laughed and pushed him towards the car. "Let's go eat." He slapped Justin's ass.

Justin spun around and screamed.

JC winced. "Chris, Justin—"

Justin shoved Chris as hard as he could up against the side of the car, eyes blazing. He was panting, face turning red.

"Jesus Christ…" Chris muttered with a glare. "A little sensitive today, aren't you? You've gotten whacked harder than—"

"Chris, Justin was bitten by a snake," JC interrupted. "On the ass."

Chris started to laugh. "You've got to be—"

Justin punched him.

*********

Justin was humiliated. He was lying on his stomach on an examining table in this little rural doctor's office, his pants pulled down to his knees. He felt bare and exploited and worst of all was he was alone with this nurse. He tried to imagine it was JC behind him but that didn't work. He couldn't. The situation was too blatant.

"Nurse what?" he asked, wincing as she touched him.

"Timber," she replied. "Timber. Like the wood? My parents were very into nature and trees. I have a brother named Bark."

"Bark?" Justin squeaked as she pressed against his sore skin.

"This is very inflamed," she said. "When did this happen?"

"Last night," he muttered.

"It's not too bad, though… I've seen worse…" she began. "Have you had any nausea? Shortness of breath? Tightness in the chest? Hives anywhere on the body? Blurry vision? Sweating? Slurring speech?"

"No."

"Then you're very lucky. You're just having an allergic reaction to the bite, which is very common…" she said. "What I'm going to do, after I just examine a little more, is just to give you a precautionary tetanus shot… When was the last time you had one?"

"I don't know."

"Okay, we'll do that. And then we'll treat it, how's that sound?"

"Sounds like fun…" he muttered.

*********

Justin didn't want to go to lunch. He didn't want to see the town. He didn't want to see the mountain. He didn't want anything to touch him. He didn't want to sit in the car. But he did anyway, wincing, because it was the only way to get out of here.

The thought of sitting at the airport and then on a plane on the flight back to LA made tears prick in his eyes.

"I'm sorry I slapped you," Chris apologized.

"I wish I'd given you a black eye," Justin replied.

"How was I supposed to know you had been bitten on the ass? I mean, what are the chances of that?" Chris replied.

 "Fuck you."

 "Now you must really hate me." Chris paused.

 "I do."

 "And damn. I guess JC didn't get to fuck you then."

 Justin grunted. This was going to be a long trip.

 *********

"Justin, I just wanted to say… I thought that… Maybe the talking… Or yelling… that we did… You know, on this stupid trip… Other than what happened to you at the end, I kind of think it helped… We said a lot, you know? Even if we didn't really… come to a conclusion… You know?"

Justin said nothing. He was sprawled on the floor in his house, headphones on. He was tired and his backside still hurt, even though it was a lot better, thanks to the medication he'd been given to put on it to make the inflammation and pain go away. But he didn't want to think about that.

JC lowered himself down to lay next to Justin on the carpet.

Justin looked at the notebook in front of him as he slid his headphones off. In the Discman was the CD Chris had almost cracked before they'd left. Tracks one through four.

His hand reached to shut the notebook, but then he glanced at JC and pulled his hand away, keeping it open. He swallowed and licked his lips thoughtfully. Then he shifted and slid the headphones off his head. He handed them to JC.

JC looked at him quizzically.

Justin pushed the headphones towards him, then the notebook. JC glanced at all the scrawled notes in the notebook. Things like 'First track, first verse, reduce bass, reduce drums, more guitar, more beat'.

"Hey, J… You sure you want me to…" He looked at Justin, who had rested his head down on his arm, not looking at him. JC reached over and ran his fingers across the nape of his neck. "Tell me you're sure."

"It's not done yet," Justin murmured. "But yes."

JC lifted himself to lean over Justin and kiss him. He kissed his curls and then reached his hand to force Justin to turn his head to the side. He kissed his cheek and then the corner of his mouth.

Justin pushed him away. "Listen to it… Tell me…"

JC smiled and kissed him one more time before he sat up and put on the headphones.

Justin closed his eyes, feeling a flutter of excitement in his stomach, as well as a bit of nervousness. But he wanted JC to listen now. Holding it back wasn't helping. His song was meant to be with JC. It was still by himself, but he needed to hear JC's assurance.

He'd criticized it so much himself. JC couldn't possibly criticize it more… Could he?

Sighing, he tried not to be anxious.

He thought about the quote JC had told him… Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened.

Nothing was over. Except for that weekend. Except for the screaming. He was sure he would scream again, but it would be different. He wouldn't make the mistake of burdening himself again, or burdening JC. He would try not to, at least. And he wouldn't cry because those things were over.

He would laugh.

Especially when he thought about snakes.

JC had picked up the pen and was writing something in the notebook, in the corner of the page. Justin felt a little nervous, wondering what he was going to pass judgment on. He wanted it to be perfect… He wanted JC to approve….

JC pushed the notebook back towards Justin and tapped the part of the page where he had written.

Justin turned his head and read it.

"I love your music. And I love you. Thank you."

Justin smiled.

For the first time in a long time, he felt fulfilled.

**********