A River in Egypt

Abby rested her temple against the cool pane of glass, staring blankly ahead. If she had her sight, she wouldn't have been aware of the view from the sixth story window anyway.

"Hey, Abs, we leave in fifteen, you ready?" JC asked from behind her.

Abby turned her head towards his voice, nodding wordlessly before resuming her former position, pulling the blanket around her shoulders a little tighter as she shivered in the mid-afternoon heat.

JC was silent a moment.

"Someone will come get you when we load," he offered hesitantly.

Abby made no reply, hearing the door close quietly behind her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Load up!"

Justin leaped onto the bus, whistling tunelessly, and slid his duffel into his bunk one-handed. "He shoots, he scores! And the crowd goes wild," he commentated softly, making roaring noises under his breath.

He glanced back out the window as he danced down the aisle towards the front and frowned as he saw Abby talking seriously with Dave, one of the tour director's assistants.

Her face was void of expression, but her hands wrung the head of her cane anxiously.

She shook her head after a moment and turned, leaving Dave with a puzzled expression on his face.

As Justin watched, Abby started to walk away, nearly running into Lance as he and Joey sprinted by. She stopped short, nearly stumbling. Lance made a quick, choppy gesture to catch her before freezing and pivoting to walk away.

A startled expression flashed across Joey's face as he steadied Abby, staring after Lance in amazement.

The ache in his jaw finally made Justin unclench his teeth. Joey and Abby talked briefly before he escorted her towards the bus.

Justin sank down in a booth nonchalantly, beginning to stew inside.

Justin watched out of the corner of his eye as Abby walked past him after boarding the bus, moving like a ghost. Joey plopped down across from him, still frowning.

"You won't believe what just happened," he announced, drumming his fingers.

"What?" Justin pretended curiosity.

"Abby moved too fast and nearly ran into us outside. And Lance didn't do anything! Just said he forgot something in our room and split so fast he left smoke."

"That's not like Lance," Justin crossed his arms, staring out the window.

"No. I mean, I know that he--" Joey stopped abruptly.

"You know that he what?" Justin asked, glancing back at the older man.

"Nothing," Joey replied evasively.

Justin shot him a doubtful look, then got up and went into the back lounge, finding Abby sitting in the corner of one of the couches. She wasn't moving, simply staring into space with her legs drawn up, her arms crossed almost protectively over her chest.

"Hey, Abs," he greeted with forced nonchalance, sitting down next to her.

"Justin," she replied softly.

Silence descended, only the sounds of activity outside and up front intruding. He felt helpless, and his jaw clenched. Following instinct, he reached over and took her hand, the long slender bones small and fragile in his own.

"What's wrong?" he asked as gently as possible.

A sudden, bitter smile curled her lips. "You seem to ask me that an awful lot lately, superstar."

"You seem upset an awful lot lately," he countered, his suspicions swirling around inside his head.

The bitterness faded slightly. "Sometimes, I forget how young you are," she murmured.

He snorted. "I have my moments, just like Chris. But you grow up fast in some ways when you do what we do."

Abby nodded in agreement. "Hard lives," she agreed softly.

Justin tightened his grip. "At least I had a childhood." He frowned.

Abby shrugged. "Childhood is often not all it's cracked up to be. We're at the mercy of many things." Her head turned, obscuring her face from his view. "But at least as an adult, you're supposed to have some control over everything."

Justin craned his neck slightly, trying to see her expression. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Abby shook her head slightly and tugged her hand away. "I'm tired. I think I'm going to take a nap."

She disappeared into the hall between the bunks, the curtain hissing closed.

Abby's eyes stayed open even after she heard Justin walk by into the front. She curled into a small, hurting ball, releasing the breath she'd been holding with a sudden gasp.

Abby tucked her face into her pillow, helplessness washing over her.

She didn't know how things had gone wrong.

And she didn't know how to fix it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Hey, Abs, you wanna stop for ice cream?" Chris hollered down through the narrow bunk hallway.

"No," came her short response.

Chris raised his eyebrows at the others. Justin shrugged, frowning. JC and Joe did the same. Lance stared out the window.

Chris cleared his throat, getting up from the booth and walking towards the back.

"Abs?"

Mike and Loni looked up from the TV and made throat-cutting motions. Chris ignored them, walking in and sitting next to Abby as she typed furiously.

"That's cool," he commented, impressed.

"What?"

Her tone wasn't irritated, just closed, Chris decided. She was upset about something. Or pissed.

Chris grimaced. "You type well."

"For someone who's blind? Practice," she replied simply.

"Think you could learn how to play video games?"

Abby snorted.

"I'll take that as a 'no'."

Chris waited a few seconds to see if she would respond any further.

"Abs?"

"What."

"Are you pissed?"

"Why would I be pissed?" she asked neutrally.

"Because you seem to go to whatever room we're not."

"Maybe I just like Mike and Lon better." A faint smile peeked out, and Chris relaxed slightly.

"Are we getting on your nerves that bad?"

Abby shook her head, finally pausing. She dropped her hands to her sides, flexing her fingers. "Don't worry about it, Chris."

"Don't worry about it," he repeated. He shook his head with a sigh. "Girl, you barely speak to us, and you avoid us like the plague. I think you've hurt the boy wonder's feelings. Geez, you're acting just like Lance, only he can't avoid--"

Chris broke off abruptly as a strange expression flared over Abby's face.

"Is that it?" he demanded. "Did you and Mississippi fight?"

"No," Abby mumbled.

"Somehow that isn't convincing. It's all making sense now. Lance is with us. You had a fight with Lance. Therefore you avoid us so you can avoid Lance," Chris listed.

Abby's lips tightened. "Au contraire, monsieur Sherlock," she muttered sarcastically. "Maybe I just want to be alone, ever think of that? Jeez, I decide to be by myself for 24 hours, and you all jump to conclusions," she snarled.

She shoved her laptop to the side, getting up and walking out of the room. He heard the curtain to her bunk hiss close seconds later.

Chris drummed his fingers on his thigh, mentally running down his list of options. He looked over at their long-time bodyguards.

"She say anything to you guys?"

Mike shook his head, exchanging a glance with Loni. "Just a lot of muttering."

Chris narrowed his eyes slightly. "There's something else, isn't there?"

A look of guilt speared across Mike's face.

"Tell me," Chris demanded. "C'mon. We're all stuck on a bus the size of a box--"

"Ask Lance," Loni rumbled reluctantly. "We're not going to try and analyze anything."

"You saw something?" Chris asked consideringly.

"Saw what?" Justin asked from the doorway, keeping his voice down.

Loni rolled his eyes. "We're not saying anything, guys. We're staying out of it."

Mike held up a hand when Justin opened his mouth in protest. "Eehh," he negated.

Justin rolled his eyes and closed his mouth, looking over to meet Chris's eyes. "Lance," he stated knowingly, his eyes narrowing slightly. "She started acting weird…"

He paused, thinking back. "After I left her in the back of the bus the other day with…Lance."

"Woah!" Chris leaped up from the couch, grabbing Justin's T-shirt to stop him from running back up to the front. "Cool your jets, boy wonder."

Justin glared at him.

"Don't make Loni sit on you. You know he'd just love to do it again."

Chris looked over at the huge man, and Loni chuckled evilly on cue, rolling his eyes.

Justin shrugged off his hand. "Why not?" he demanded.

"Do you want to make this even more uncomfortable than it already is?" Chris asked logically.

Justin pretended to think for a minute. "Yes!"

Chris grunted and grabbed his shirt again.

"Chris, get off me, man!"

"Explain that reasoning," Chris countered stubbornly.

"Maybe if we stopped treating this whole thing like breakable glass, something might happen to either get something started, or prove that there isn't anything."

Chris narrowed his eyes on his younger friend. "Somehow, I don't think you're rooting for the last one."

Justin glared at him, his hand shooting out to steady himself as the bus jerked and slowed, turning.

"Maybe I will, if Lance keeps being an ass about this. Abs doesn't need to be hurt."

"I'm telling my mom to start taping The Young and the Restless for me again," Loni drawled. "I'm beginning to miss it."

Chris snorted a laugh, running a hand over his face. "Just what we need. Danielle is coming out, maybe she can get Abs to open up a little bit. They can do girl stuff. For now, just leave it alone, J, okay?"

Justin hesitated before nodding. "For a little while," he agreed, going over to the couch and sitting down, crossing his arms as he stared at the basketball game on TV.

Chris stared at the younger man for several seconds before shaking his head and turning to go back towards the front, muttering mild curses under his breath. "Man, I'm glad I already have a girlfriend. Relationships suck."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lance stared out the bus window, slouched in one side of the booth. The outside terrain passed by in a blur as the bus sped onward. He was alone. Everyone else was either in the back playing video games or watching the others play video games.

Lance rolled his eyes with a sigh. He'd contemplated going back just for the opportunity to get his mind off things. But the suspicious daggers Justin kept glaring at him made him leery of what could happen if he made himself available for questioning.

Abby was asleep.

Lance rubbed his eyes with another sigh. Even as he tried to distance himself, his senses mocked him by becoming more acutely aware of her. He knew the instant she would enter the room. Hell, he knew the instant she was anywhere within a hundred-foot radius of him.

The fact that close quarters shoved him to within a few feet of her made his muscles tighten and his stomach queasy with worry.

And every subtle snub he delivered made him sicker, but to allow Abby any closer would threaten all his good intentions.

"Good intentions," he snorted softly to himself. "At least be honest with yourself." He leaned his head against the window, hearing the faint laughter coming from the back.

It was the beginning of August. Their tour would end in less than a month. And then what? Abby would more than likely leave.

Lance frowned deeply, his chest tightening in rebellion at the thought even as his nerves breathed a sigh of relief.

"You can't have it both ways." His mumble seemed to echo around the enclosed space. "But then again, having it both ways would require knowing what you want," he told himself, frustrated.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end a split-second before her scent reached him, her bare feet scuffing softly down the short hall. He wanted to stare straight ahead, to ignore her presence as he'd done in the past few days unless it was completely necessary to acknowledge her. He needed to.

But his eyes were drawn towards her anyway.

Her long, dark hair was rumpled and falling out of her braid, her eyes wide and still sleepy above her flushed cheeks.

She yawned, hesitating at the boundary of the bunks. A look of uncertainty passed over her face, and he knew she knew who was in the kitchen and who wasn't.

"Lance?"

Lance swallowed against his dry throat and managed a quiet sound that bordered on a grunt. He grimaced.

Her eyelashes flickered down, and she moved to the fridge carefully, searching inside until she found an unopened water bottle.

"Would you like something to drink?"

Sweat popped out on his brow. "No," he answered shortly, watching her shoulders slump and biting his tongue. He was hurting her, and he felt as if his insides were being slowly eaten away.

Abby's head shook slowly. Her back was still to him as she asked quietly, "Lance, is something wrong?"

He could take the out, say he was just having some bad days. The words trembled on the tip of his tongue. If he said them, things could go back to normal. Which meant having her friendship. Hearing her laughter and seeing her smile. Which meant he would be constantly walking a tightrope again.

Or he could walk the path he'd already started on.

It would confuse her, maybe hurt her a little bit, but she was strong. She knew when to cut her losses, he told himself.

He hoped he could too.

Lance closed his eyes. "Nothing I want to talk about," his hesitation was momentary, and he forced the words out from parched lips, "With you."

He saw her visibly flinch before her shoulders stiffened.

"Is this about the other day?"

He felt a spark of admiration for her stubbornness.

"Is it?" Abby turned around to face him, challenge in her gaze as he remained silent.

"I said I didn't want to talk about it," he repeated stonily, fidgeting with a napkin as his stomach roiled, praying for her to give up on him.

Her brows drew together. "I understand that you didn't want me to touch your face," she offered softly, obviously confused. "But Lance, I don't understand--"

"You don't have to understand anything," he interrupted swiftly, chest aching. "Sorry, you can't control me like you do everything else around you, sweetheart," he sneered slightly.

Abby drew back, eyes wide. "I don't want to--"

"Bull. I'll do what I want, and you do what you want as long as it doesn't involve me, and we'll both be fine," he told her, his harsh tone rasping at the end. His heart felt as if it were somewhere around his toes, his stomach in his throat.

Abby was shaking her head in denial.

"Lance--"

"Leave me alone," he bit off, shoving out of the booth. His insides bled as she flinched back. From him.

He forced his knees to support him, walking stiffly to the front to sit down next to James, staring out the windshield.

The older man slanted a hard look down at him. "What did you do to that little gal?"

Lance automatically looked back. Abby was gone. "Nothing. Why?" he asked innocently, his muscles shaking with regret.

James grunted and shook his head, refusing to talk to him anymore. Lance braced his forearms on his knees, burying his forehead against them with a sigh.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Man, I hate when that happens," Justin complained. "I'll never understand the female mind." He looked towards Abby, who stood quietly against the wall in the crowded elevator after they barely escaped from being mobbed.

He craned his neck, catching a glimpse of Lance's spiky head lurking in the back of the elevator, then looked at Abby again, biting his lip.

JC cleared his throat, and he and Joey exchanged glances.

"It could've been worse," was Abby's only comment. "Now stop staring at me, Justin."

Justin blinked. "Sorry," he apologized automatically. The elevator dinged quietly, and they all filed out.

Justin caught up with Abby, slinging an arm around her shoulders so she wouldn't have to use her cane. "So we bunking tonight? Chris's woman should be here soon, and I'm frightened to stay in a room with them. Chris getting his groove on sounds a lot like wild monkey love," he stage-whispered, yelping as Chris slapped him on the back of the head.

Abby barely cracked a smile.

"I'm not sure," she answered after a hesitation.

"Not sure?" Justin looked at her downcast face sharply as the cryptic answer registered.

Abby shook her head, moving away from him abruptly. "I'm not sure," she repeated. "What rooms?"

 They all looked back at Lance, but he remained silent, staring at the floor as he trailed behind the group.

"Scoop? You know the assignments?" JC prodded, shifting his bag wearily.

Lance shrugged. "The hotel left them unlocked. Pick a room," he stated without interest.

JC sighed with exasperation. "Fine. Justin, you and Abby can go in 428. Lance, do you have any preference?" he asked with dripping sweetness.

"Wherever Abby isn't," Lance looked up as he uttered the phrase, morbid curiosity forcing him to watch as Abby's back went rigid.

Everyone turned to stare at him in disbelief as the elevator dinged, disgorging more of their road staff.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Chris demanded. "And what the hell does that mean?"

Lance ignored him, outwardly expressionless, but cringing inside as he watched Abby's slender form disappear into the stairwell without a sound.

Justin followed his gaze, his response a split-second too late. "Abs!"

"Sonuva--," Justin muttered, glaring at him. "Dammit, Lance!" He spun and made a quick gesture to go after her before JC caught his arm.

"Not without a bodyguard."

"JC--!"
"Not without a bodyguard," JC repeated firmly.

"She'll be okay," Joey tried to offer, sliding a disapproving glance at Lance. "She'll come back when she isn't in danger of harming little Lance."

Lance's jaw tightened as he shrugged tensely. "Everyone's entitled to their own feelings. Or am I not allowed to decide that anymore?"

Justin snarled a curse under his breath before stalking into a room, slamming the door behind him.

"Well?"

JC just shook his head, following Justin inside.

Chris opened his mouth, then decided against it, joining the others.

Joey crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, ignoring the people milling around and settling into their own rooms down the hall.

"You have something to say?" Lance asked warily.

Joey shook his head. "Your decision, I guess. I just disagree with your methods."

Lance looked away guiltily. "I'm just doing what's best."

Joey made a noncommittal noise. "You're hurting her," he observed softly.

The simple comment felt like a blow to his solar plexus. Lance swallowed with difficulty, unable to meet his friend's eyes.

"There's just one thing I wonder about," Joey went on before pausing.

"What?" Lance asked reluctantly.

"Just how much she really does care if it's affecting her this much. And what could happen if you changed your mind and bent a little on this."

Lance's head snapped around, and Joey smiled wryly, shrugging his broad shoulders before slipping inside the next room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Abby clutched the head of her cane, subconsciously aware of the activity going on around her in the small park. But not paying any attention on the surface.

She'd walked until the smell of greenness had filled her senses, her steps finding the cracked cement sidewalk that wound through the park. It led to one of the benches she was sitting on at that moment.

There her shaking knees had finally collapsed.

Abby leaned forward, resting her forehead briefly on her clasped hands before releasing the catch that would collapse her cane. She drew her knees up so her heels touched her rear, curling her arms around her shins protectively and resting her chin on her steepled knees.

Abby blinked back tears, tucking her chin to her chest to hide her face from the people around her.

She began to rock herself in unconscious self-consolation, small sounds of pained confusion escaping her as she pressed her forehead into her knees, trying to erase the memories.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lance pulled the bill of his cap a little lower, shoving his hands in his pockets and pretending to stare into the window display in front of him.

Dre hovered inconspicuously in the background several feet away, pretending to read a paper.

Lance shook his head. So much pretending. Where does the reality begin and the fake end? Or is that the other way around?

He saw a young man and woman walk by out of the corner of his eye. Their arms were wrapped around each other as their heads bent close, murmuring a conversation that only they could hear.

When did I start wanting that? When did casual become uninteresting? He sighed, scuffing down the street. Why can't that be the norm? It would be so much easier…than pretending.

Than pretending that none of them dated. That there wasn't anything more important than the music. That it didn't bother you to be pleasing millions of nameless girls at the cost of the one that was special to you. The one that you knew you would eventually lose because of the career you had chosen. Sometimes he wondered if it was worth it.

When there wasn't anybody, the sacrifice seemed minimal.

But when there was.

Lance turned a corner, coming to stand beside a music store, huge poster billboards in the front windows. His own face smiled back at him as he posed with his friends. Five guys, five personalities, one group. A family of friends that encompassed everyone they knew and loved.

But sometimes, somehow that wasn't enough, and the sacrifice was a yawning ache that seemed like it would never be satisfied.

Lance looked up to find himself staring at a CD display for singles. He blinked, quickly checking around and finding Dre hovering near the posters and T-shirts.

He shook his head when Dre raised an eyebrow, wandering further into the store. He strolled around aimlessly until he came to a deserted, enclosed area. He stepped up into the room, walking over to the shining set of drums and tapping a top hat lightly with a knuckle. Other instruments were racked along the wall with large speakers.

Lance hit the top hat again with a discordant clang, grimacing. He moved more slowly over to the keyboard on its stand, running his knuckle along the keys lightly.

Lance nearly missed the gentle tug on his jeans' leg. He looked down, startled, into a pair of huge green eyes. The little girl, who couldn't have been more than six, smiled with sweet uncertainty.

"What, sweetheart?" He managed, trying to yank his thoughts out of the clouds.

She blinked, looking a little frightened.

Lance took a breath, softening his tone. "What's wrong, sweetie?" he asked gently.

The smile appeared again, her eyes brightening as she motioned him down.

Lance obliged, crouching down so he was at her eye level. He cocked his head, raising a brow.

The little girl leaned close, cupping a hand to whisper in his ear. "My name's Ellie."

He smiled. "Hi, Ellie. How are you?"

She giggled shyly, leaning in again. "Are you Lance?"

He nodded, amused. "Yeah--"

"Shh," she shushed seriously. "If you talk loud, everyone will hear," she scolded.

He widened his eyes, biting back a smile. "Oh, sorry. You're right. What can I do for you, Ellie?" he asked, more quietly.

She eyes him solemnly. "My sister says that you boybands are all alike. Like G.I. Joe men."

He raised his brows. "Hmm…well, what do you think, Ellie?"

She grinned. "My sissy's a stupidhead. She's just jealous."

Lance chuckled, surprised. "And why's that?"

"Cause she likes Justin, and she says that he probably has all sorts of girlfriends. She gets all mad." She widened those huge eyes a little more to illustrate her sister's rage.

Lance bit his lip on a smile. "Sometimes he does," he agreed.

Ellie tilted her head. "Do you have a girlfriend?"

Lance shook his head. "No, Ellie, I don't."

"Why not?" she demanded.

Taken aback, Lance didn't say anything for a second. "Uh, well…I don't really want one right now."

"Why not? Aren't you lonely? Mommy says she would be lonely if Daddy weren't there."

At a loss, Lance glanced around helplessly, wondering how to answer the questions. How does a five-year-old come up with harder-hitting questions than all the teen journalists combined? he wondered wryly.

He coughed, then cleared his throat, trying to stall for time. Ellie simply pinned him with laser-bright eyes and smiled expectantly. "Are you?"

He grimaced a smile. "Well, Ellie, it's a little different. See, your mommy and daddy are married. So, they sorta, uh, need each other to not be lonely. But I'm just, uh, young and, uh, not married, so I don't need a girlfriend to not be lonely."

He stopped, feeling his explanation becoming muddled, and looked at the small child in dread, hoping she wouldn't call him on it. Inwardly, he began laughing at himself for being afraid of the delicate little girl.

Ellie gazed at him in disbelief. "Are you sweating?" she asked curiously.

He choked slightly. "Um, it's kinda hot in here," he temporized, beginning to relax as she appeared to become distracted.

"I'm little now, but I'd be lonely if I was as old as you and didn't have a person 'specially for me," she announced without warning.

He opened his mouth, but nothing emerged. If he had ever been this precocious as a child, he pitied his mother.

Ellie perused him slowly. "Do you have cooties? Is that why girls don't like you?"

He blinked. "Uh, not that I know of. The pills I take promise to take care of the cooties," he told her dryly.

Ellie nodded solemnly. "You're not ugly or stupid like the boys in my class. Maybe you're not trying hard enough."

"Not trying hard enough?" he echoed stupidly.

"Yeah. You should bring a girl flowers or something she likes. Daddy brings Mommy daisies from the field. Do you like a girl?"

He was mortified to feel a blush heating his cheeks. "Um."

Ellie's brow wrinkled, obviously making her own conclusions. "You should tell her. Then you won't be alone." 

"It's not that easy," he mumbled, unable to figure out how he'd come to the point of taking advice on his love life from a six-year-old.

"Mommy says you just have to do it. Otherwise you'll feel bad forever."

Lance stared into the intelligence shining from the little girl's green eyes.

She did her best to blank her mind, simply letting herself drift. It hurt less that way.

She'd opened herself to them, to him most of all, and he'd turned on her.

This was what her nightmares were made of. And the worst thing was, she'd never seen it coming.

"Au contraire. A whole month, youngun."

Angry tears burned in her chest. This is not my fault she vowed. The tears scalded her eyes just the same, making her all the angrier. She swiped at her eyes, sniffing as her nose threatened to run.

"I have nothing to be sorry for," she asserted softly. "I didn't--didn't do anything." Though her mind insisted on scrambling for some explanation in something she had done.

She threaded her fingers through her hair, clenching her fingers around the strands until more than emotional pain brought tears to her eyes.

But there were no ready answers. Her self-assurances were nothing but dust against the gale-force winds of her own self-doubts. Little whispers.

Abby growled with frustration, lurching to her feet and stumbling briefly before steadying herself. She could feel the curious stares as she fumbled for her cane.

Soon she was walking back the way she had come, her cane sweeping quickly across her path.

Her lungs ached.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lance trudged back down the hall, Dre following dutifully and refraining from commenting on his almost sullen silence.

Lance grumbled under his breath, almost wishing for someone to talk to. But there wasn't anybody to help him, if that's what he wanted. Even his mother hadn't seemed to understand when he'd hinted that he was pushing Abby away.

Rather, she'd seemed more concerned about Abby, asking how she was almost every night.

When he opened the door to the suite, Joe, Chris and JC were gathered on the couch around a female figure with long blonde hair.

When she looked up, Lance smiled weakly. "Hey, Dani. What's up?"

She smiled and gestured to the laptop on her knees. "Just showing the tentative design for the web layout." She looked at the other three guys in puzzlement as they avoided addressing him.

Lance just shrugged and flashed another fake smile. "Sounds great. I'd like to see it--"

The door to one of the bedrooms opened, and he stopped abruptly as Abby stepped out, her cane in one hand as she shut the door behind herself.

"I'm ready when you are, Danielle," she announced quietly.

"Great. Here, Chris, you can play around a little more. Us girls are going shopping." The lithe blonde plopped the laptop into Chris's lap and kissed him affectionately before bouncing to her feet.

Abby flashed a strained smile as Danielle hooked an arm through hers, her tall form dwarfing Abby's slight frame.

"Ready to go?"

Abby nodded. "Yeah."

Lance intercepted the glance she and Chris exchanged before Danielle flashed her own bright smile.

"If that's your response to shopping, you haven't done it enough. Let's go."

They disappeared in a whirlwind of activity, leaving silence in their wake.

"Are you going to punish me forever?" he finally asked.

"You seem to be doing a good enough job of that yourself," JC replied, then looked up somberly.

"Do you know what you plan on doing?"

Lance looked away, shrugging slightly. "Nothing--there's nothing to do." He shook his head abruptly. "Sound check at four. I'm going to lay down."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He rubbed the bridge of his nose, staring out the blinds. The travel alarm next to the bed painted the early morning hour in huge, glowing red numbers.

Exhaustion pleaded with him to rest, but his mind kept him awake.

The possibilities were endless.

He knew, in his heart, that more than one option existed, but in his mind, only one option seemed available.

There were just too many problems. If he truly wanted a somewhat normal life, then any other option was impossible.

He wasn't even sure he could handle normalcy, let alone that. Perhaps it wasn't supposed to matter, but it did.

He was excruciatingly aware that she deserved to have someone who could be there with her.

She deserved someone who didn't have so many doubts of his own.

He couldn't surmount his walls and hers. She needed someone who could devote the time to--

To convincing her. To--to win her--love.

He didn't. He couldn't.

He wanted to, in that half-afraid, not-going-to-admit-it way. Sometimes.

But he couldn't, wouldn't, love her. And he didn't.

He knew he didn't.

He just had to stay away, and he would forget.

Besides, it was too late now.

Lance crossed his arms over his chest tightly, feeling chills crawl up his insides.

He knew he didn't.

He couldn't, wouldn't.

He didn't.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Her eyes snapped open with a gasp, a throttled cry of panicked fear leaving her.

Her heart labored with her lungs to draw breath, and her hearing disappeared into the roar of blood inside her head. She didn't hear the soft footsteps padding across the floor, curled into the fetal position and still shivering in the aftermath of the dream.

She shuddered.

"Abby?" Lance's deep, quiet voiced soothed.

Her head jerked convulsively towards his voice, tears filling her eyes.

"Abby." Strong arms encircled her, dragging her down onto the floor with him.

Familiar, solid strength enveloped her, and she fought harder to contain the tears.

She was still confused, still angry. Still hurt.

Still gave in. She curled her arms around him, the usual sense of strangeness at being close to something she couldn't see muted into nonexistence.

Every logical instinct told her to get as far away from what could hurt her as possible.

She only wanted to get closer. His scent filled her head with comfort and other tangled emotions.

She buried her face against his chest, hearing the thunder of his heartbeat. Her shaking muscles locked around him.

She made a sound of protest as she was shifted, then settled again, Lance resting back against the couch.

"Abby?" His hand rubbed against her back, his voice tense.

She buried her face against him a little harder, not wanting to talk. Afraid they'd only fight again in that emotionless way that only scared her more.

His hands shifted to her shoulders, trying to push her back.

And she did something she'd never done before.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

His pulse was lodged somewhere near the top of his skull.

When he'd heard her first cry, he'd nearly fallen from his seat in his rush to get to her.

All his good intentions and self-directives disappeared in the first gut-instinct reaction to comfort her.

Which was how he'd ended up on the floor with her in his arms, fighting his not-so-honorable impulses that competed with the desire to just stay there forever with her in his arms.

To that end, he tried to urge her back, forcing his hands to her shoulders.

He registered her sound of hurt and anger a split-second before she reared back, her arms hooking around his neck as her sightless gaze locked on his face.

Shock momentarily stilled everything inside him.

Too close.

The tip of her nose brushed his, her breath washing over his lips.

He caught the look of startlement before it melted into worried pleading.

"Lance? Please?" she half-begged.

Please what? He felt light-headed, his vision narrowing. The mint of her breath filled his lungs. How was he supposed to resist this? He could only take so much. The frustration reached a fever pitch.

"No," he ground out.

Refusing her, and himself. He jerked her arms from around his neck, vaguely aware that his grip was bruisingly tight.

He displaced her from his lap with rough gentleness, gaining his feet unsteadily and walking towards his bedroom.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She'd begged, and he'd walked away.

The drain of blood from her head left her dizzy.

Shown him her need, and lost everything, including her pride.

But that didn't matter as much as the crushed feeling inside her chest.

The sounds remained silent until the door shut.

Then she began to cry, the sobs muffled as she curled up against the side of the couch, the feelings spawned by the nightmare flooding back.

"Here, now," JC's soft voice soothed. Gentle hands lifted her into a sitting position.

"JC--" she whimpered, unable to put the feeling into words.

"Come with me," he half-ordered.

Without waiting, he picked her up, carrying her into the other bedroom and sitting in a chair carefully.

It wasn't the same, she thought mournfully. But it was comforting just the same. She curled her hands into the cotton of his T-shirt, listening to the lulling rhythm of his heart.

"Wanna talk about it?" he asked quietly.

The violent tears had passed, leaving behind a numbing ache.

"You heard?" she croaked.

"Most of it," he agreed softly.

"No," she whispered, shame burning in her chest.

He hesitated. "Okay."

JC simply sat with her, shifting to a more comfortable position as he yawned.

Abby's eyes remained open, her mind wide awake and running in a thousand different directions without finding anything. The hand rubbing her back felt as if it were touching someone else.

"Jace?" Justin whispered countless moments later.

JC mumbled something.

"Here, go to bed."

Abby didn't protest as she changed hands, settling limply against Justin's familiar warmth and scent.

"Abby?" he asked softly, passing a hand over her hair.

Her retreating mind roused briefly.

"I don't understand," she whispered listlessly.

Justin sighed. "Abby, talk to me?"

But she'd already shut down again, inwardly beginning the painful process of reconstructing her walls.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Lance?"

Lance got up and walked away from the table.

Justin growled beneath his breath and slammed a fist on the table.

Chris groaned softly, coming up behind him and slapping the back of his head.

"Quit tinkering with his love life. You're going to end up getting burned."

"Abs is already burned," Justin countered quietly. "She doesn't know why he's acting like this. Maybe I should tell her."

Chris looked at him like he was nuts. "Would you like to land on the front page of the newspaper? " 'N Sync and 'N Sane: Quiet, Shy One Goes Berserk and Kills Cute One--Experts think it was over the last of the bleach, but insiders hint at other motivations"."

Justin grimaced. "Funny, Chris."

"Just trying to impress on you the consequences of saying anything about Poofoo's possible feelings. Like death."

Justin snorted, shuffling through the papers that had been left for them to go through.

JC walked up to them. "We've got more players," he observed absently, making notations on some sheet music.

"Cool," Justin grumbled.

"Don't you sound excited. Are you the one who's driving Lance into avoiding us?"

"Maybe it's his deodorant," Joey offered, yawning as he leafed through some fan letters across the table.

"What about deodorant?"

"Exactly what we're asking."

Justin sighed impatiently. "Does no one else care about what's going on among us?"

"Being a little dramatic there, aren't you, Curly?" JC asked. "This isn't Days of Our Lives."

"Do you think I am?"

"Nope. But we can't meddle. Who knows what could happen?" JC grimaced, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Remember that we're all around her, J."

"But--" Justin paused as a clamor arose from the outer corridor. A harried crew member stuck his head inside.

"You guys ready to sign? Where's Lance?"

"Here," Lance appeared from another set of doors, taking his place behind the table without looking at the others, which was quite a feat with four of them standing there.

"Thanks, Ron. Yeah, we're ready."

Chris nudged Justin. "Just enjoy being home and let things settle, alright? Your dad's coming up, right?"

"Gonna try," Justin agreed grudgingly.

Justin sat at the other end of the table from Lance, picking up his pen in a restless grasp as he worried. Chris nudged him as the first fans filed in, excited squeals and conversation filling the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Yes, I'll be departing from Missouri. What flights are available in the next few days from St. Louis?"

Abby's voice stopped him as he went to open the fridge, and Justin froze, cocking his head to catch the rest.

"No, money isn't an object," came her weary reply. "I want to be back in Florida as soon as possible. I can arrange for transportation myself. Just give me the flights."

Just hurriedly snuck back into the back lounge, frowning fiercely.

The others looked up from the movie on the TV, minus Lance, who was holed up in his bunk.

The bus was deathly silent, had been for the last couple of days. The situation had degenerated completely. Lance and Abby avoided each other like the plague and refused to speak to one another.

He supposed he should have been expecting this move on Abby's part, but it still came as a shock.

Justin crossed his arms. "We need to talk," he announced solemnly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"We need to talk."

"No, thanks."

"Me and the guys have discussed this," Justin plowed ahead.

"How nice for you all."

Justin leaned down to peer into her closed face.

"I want to talk to you about Lance." He caught the flinch of her eyelids, the pained anger in her depthless eyes, before she regained control, her face smoothing.

"I have nothing to say." The tense thread in her voice wavered.

"Seems like you have plenty to say," he countered sympathetically, touching the hands that were white-knuckled fists in her lap.

Abby jerked away, a frown crumpling her face.

"Leave me alone, J. I'll be fine."

"Once you run away?" Sadness struck him in the pit of his stomach as he watched tears fill her eyes. He sat down beside her, taking the brush she was using to comb her freshly washed hair.

A quick blink, and she shut the tears off. "Leave me alone. You don't know anything about this."

Outside, thunder rolled menacingly in the distance.

The hotel walls muffled the sound, silence reigning in the quiet suite.

"Maybe if you'd tell me, I would. C'mon, tell someone. Would you talk to Dani? JC's a good listener."

Abby's head dropped to her hands with a sigh. "Justin."

"Please?"

"Why can't you leave it alone?"

"Because you're my friend. You're special--"

Abby stiffened slightly. "I'm just me, superstar. Nothing out of the ordinary." Her voice dropped slightly. "I'm just trying to do what’s best."

"Which means I lose yet another friend," Justin stated tonelessly. He'd lost a lot of friends for various reasons, but you never got used to it, even over the ones you were glad to see go. "You'll go, and I lose you, never to see again."

Guilt filled her gaze. "You aren't going to lose me. You know where to find me, how to get ahold of me. Just because I'm leaving here doesn't mean I'm leaving you and the others. Justin, please, understand?"

Justin hesitated, thinking. "Okay. But only if you tell me why."

Abby groaned softly.

"I'm tired of the bus."

He had to smile at that one. The cover was blatantly transparent.

"Try again."

"I'm becoming claustrophobic."

"Nope."

"The fans hate me."

"You hide from them. Only a few know you exist, and they think you're funny."

"Dammit," Abby muttered, combing her fingers through her unbound hair.

"I hate traveling."

He snorted.

"I don't like being thrust in with new people all the time."

He sighed. "What happens when you travel?"

Abby was silent.

"I hate fast food."

He grinned slightly. "You make us eat fruit."

The silver eyes narrowed. "It's good for you!" she snapped in exasperation. "I hate living with five contrary males!"

"One in particular?"

Abby froze. "Don't go there, Justin."

"Why?"

"He's your friend, and a member of this group. He can't go. He shouldn't. But I can. And I should. I refuse to live in a bunk for another month."

It was an omission, albeit an oblique one.

"Just try and talk with him."

Abby's hand found his cheek briefly. "Lance is entitled to his own feelings--" a bitter smile twisted her mouth. "I have to go make a call."

He watched her disappear into the bedroom, frustrated. "How long?" he called.

Abby understood. "Day after tomorrow," her quiet reply drifted out.

The door closed gently, and he got up to pace.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lance stared out at the downpour drumming the sidewalk mercilessly before shaking his head. He tugged the bill of his cap a little lower and turned to go back upstairs as thunder rumbled quietly.

But there wasn't any lightning.

The few diehard fans lingering outside had dispersed at the first onslaught, a little avenue of freedom if he wanted to go someplace.

Lance snorted softly, twisting around for one last glimpse of the downpour before the elevator doors swished shut.

It was odd how stormy weather seemed to make everything seem so quiet and hushed.

But even that didn't explain the unearthly quiet that surrounded him recently. They continued doing shows and entertaining like the group they'd always been. They traveled with the same fanfare, and dealt with the fans like always.

But the air around him always felt strangely calm--and oddly empty. Waiting for something that he wasn't sure he wanted. It was like any calm before the storm, like distant thunder without the lightning. Yet.

And he had the sinking fear that it might explode at any moment.

He wasn't sure how, and was hoping that the increasing distance between himself and Abby might have killed that threat.

Lance slumped against the padded wall as the elevator ascended, shaking his head.

Abby wouldn't fight him on this, and he had discovered that that hurt almost as much as what he was doing to them.

In his heart, he'd found a tiny kernel of persistent hope that, when he pushed her away, Abby would fight to win him back.

That there could be more for them.

He snorted, smirking at his image in the mirrored door. He'd overestimated his own appeal. Not the best move. But a nice ego check, eh, Lance? Especially after all those pretty speeches to yourself. Serves you right.

The smirk became pained, fading, and his own tired eyes, a sickly yellow from fatigue, stared back at him solemnly.

"Serves you right," he whispered, the elevator doors sliding back. His mirror image disappeared into the side of the opening.

Lance forced his legs to carry him forward, walking to the suite he shared with Chris and Joey.

He stopped short, his hand on the knob, as soft laughter, male and female mingling, carried through the wood. Chris and Danielle.

Lance sighed, debating, then shook his head. "A little exercise would do you good," he muttered. "Clear your head." He snorted. "Then again, how many walks have we taken recently?"

He paused, then groaned, tapping his temple. "Great, now we're talking to ourself and referring to ourself in the royal we. When you actually start expecting answers from yourself, Lance, time to get a real straitjacket," he mumbled, slumping against the wall beside the door.

"Though it's not my fault," he defended himself. "Justin barely speaks to me, and the others are just itching to lecture me about this or give advice. How else am I supposed to get conversation that doesn't revolve around her?"

"Maybe if your thoughts didn't, you wouldn't talk about it," he announced logically, lips twisting. "Even to yourself. You need a new hobby."

"That's not my fault, either," he muttered grumpily, rubbing his face with a hand. "It's her fault."

He snorted. "I wonder if I could blame this all on her?" he wondered aloud. "It's her fault that I found her in the first place. So everything that follows must be her fault too." He ended the declaration in a whisper, his mind jumping backwards in time. "If she hadn't been crying…"

Lance swallowed hard. "It's her fault I'm so confused I don't know what I want. Her fault I feel like crap for what I've done and what I'm doing to both of us. Her fault that I don't know how not to l—"

He paused, grappling with his own thoughts. "Why do I feel as if I should thank her?" he asked the air softly.

"Maybe you should."

Justin's quietly uttered comment made him spin around, a hand to his heart. He cursed fiercely under his breath. "Damn, Justin—"

Stubborn blue eyes stared back at him.

"Tell her."

He tightened his jaw, his walls shooting up. "No. I don't have anything to say."

The younger man gave a crack of humorless laughter. "You two are just alike, did you know that?" He paused for a beat. "Wait, you do. You probably would know anything I could say about her. And more. But you've been hiding from her, and—"

Lance held up a hand. "Don't analyze something you have no clue about, J. Leave me alone."

"Two stubborn cusses," Justin muttered. "You're hurting each other for no reason. If you would just look at each other—" he spat, frustrated.

"She has. She sees all of us exactly as we are because she can't be influenced by appearances," Lance countered, his tone resigned. "And she doesn't feel anything else, except maybe she hates me now," he finished with a mutter.

Justin shook his head so hard his neck popped. "Only because you haven't given her a chance to see any differently. You've hidden things from her that might change her mind. We all know she doesn't have that kind of experience. A nudge in the right direction—"

"Might create a whole new mess. Do I look like I want to be her springboard to bigger and better things?" Lance demanded bitterly. "She practically oozes permanence, and none of us can give that right now."

There was a split second pause. "You don't know that. All you can do is try. Lance—"

"Try for what? Put the moves on her? See if she just laughs in my face or runs away terrified that I really will rape her?" he gritted out harshly.

"She's inexperienced, not stupid," Justin corrected impatiently. "It might shock her a little at first, but—"

Lance sputtered a sarcastic laugh. "You're serious. I can't believe you're actually advocating me trying something."

Justin threw his hands in the air. "I'm advocating you trying something! Anything! C'mon, man, just try! It has to be easier than what you've been putting both of you through."

"You don't know squat about what I've been going through," Lance began to seethe. "But I'm working on ending it," he finished bitterly.

Justin stared at him narrowly. "Do you know what you just said a few minutes ago?" he asked suddenly.

Lance eyed him warily.

"You said she meant permanence. But that you couldn't give that to her right now. Implying that you wanted to."

He opened his mouth, panic suddenly bubbling in his stomach.

"I'm going out," he blurted. "Don't wait--"

"You love her," Justin breathed suddenly, wide-eyed. "Or are almost there."

Lance felt the blood drain from his face before rushing back in an almost painful blush. "Hardly," he managed gruffly, feeling as if his world was off-kilter. "You don't know what--"

"Tell her--"

"That's enough!" Lance snapped, his heart pounding. "This is bullshit, and I'm not listening anymore."

Without waiting for the reply he could see bubbling out, he spun on his heel and rushed for the stairs, slamming the door open as the elevator dinged, disgorging Joey and another bodyguard.

His headlong rush down the stairs passed in a blur, feeling as if his chest was in a vise.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Justin?" Abby's worried voice brought him around.

Justin stared at the young woman in front of him in awe. Her midnight hair tumbled around her slender shoulders, the loosely tailored white shirt hanging on her slim frame over a pair of battered khaki shorts.

She'd lost weight. When he looked into her sightless eyes, he could see the same fatigue that he saw in his friend's. The tired, pinched expression that no amount of sleep could erase.

This was affecting her as much as Lance. The clues to her feelings were much less obvious, but he felt for certain that she wasn't completely immune. There had been moments when he had been so sure that she was hiding something.

"Justin? What's going on?" Joey asked warily.

Justin shook his head, staring at Abby intently.

He battled with himself for a few moments. If this backfired and something horrible happened, he would be responsible. Maybe he was making a mistake.

But he told Lance to try.

"Who were you talking to, superstar? Joey? Justin--"

"This has gone on long enough. C'mon," he ordered, grabbing her wrist. She gave a squeak of surprise, her strength no match for his as he sprinted for the elevator, pulling her behind.

"Justin?!"

He refused to explain as the elevator descended, Justin muttering impatiently all the way. Then he pulled her across the lobby, catching sight of a familiar baseball cap as its owner sprinted across the street in the rain.

"Lance!" Justin hollered, feeling Abby stiffen with shock as they stood beneath the hotel awning.

"Justin?" She pulled back, digging in her heels as he attempted to follow. "No, Justin!"

He glanced down, seeing the growing panic in her eyes.

"I'm sorry, but you need to talk," he told her gently.

"No, we don't! And you don't have the right to decide this for me! Let go, Justin!" Abby snapped, yanking on her hand.

He imprisoned her wrists, then heaved a regretful sigh, wrapping an arm around her waist and lifting her off her feet. He caught a break in traffic and the rain, striding across the street with Abby hanging at his side.

When he shot a glance at her face, it was rigid with anger.

"I'm sorry," he offered. "But--"

"Then put me down and take me back to the hotel," she demanded quietly.

"I can't."

"Don't force this," her voice broke slightly, her fear flickering across her face. "He already hates me enough."

Justin opened his mouth, then shook his head. "Lance has to explain a few things," he declared stubbornly, flinging open the door to the small diner where Lance had found refuge and dragging her inside.

He ran a hand across his damp curls, setting Abby on her feet but keeping a firm hold on her as he looked for the older man.

He found him slouched in a booth by the window, staring deeply into a steaming cup of coffee.

Justin waved off the waitress armed with a coffee pot and made a beeline to the booth, Abby stiff-armed behind him.

Lance looked up when he was still a few feet away.

"Damn, you just can't take a hint, can you," he snarled before catching a glimpse of Abby. He paled, jaw clenching.

Justin literally felt Abby jump with surprise, and she stopped resisting for a second. He looked back, seeing her wide eyes, rounded with worried shock.

"Justin, what's going on?"

"You and Lance are going to sit down and talk," he announced blithely, ignoring the fire in Lance's eyes.

"Justin," Lance spoke with deathly care, and Justin eyed him warily. "Don't mess with something you don't have a clue about. You could lose too."

Abby gasped softly, tugging desperately on his hand. "Justin, what have you done? Was that you and Lance arguing in the hall?"

"You won't stand up for yourself, but I will," Justin stated firmly, forcing her to sit in the booth as Lance sat back, straightening rigidly.

Abby flushed, then paled. "Justin, that's my decision," she muttered, her hands closing around the edge of the table in a white-knuckled grip. "I'm tired, please, let's go back to the hotel."

Lance was staring at her, fascinated still. And feeling as if her words were tiny knives digging into his skin.

"See, boy wonder?" he murmured sarcastically. "She's made her decision. She doesn't need my friendship any more than I need hers. Now take her back to the hotel."

The wounded look that flashed across her face didn't soothe the aching in his chest.

"I never said that," she hissed softly. Amazed, Lance watched fire fill her eyes, silvering them almost white.

He jumped as lightning cracked with heart-stopping brutality, ripping across the sky like a knife through mottled gray silk.

Abby flinched with him, her face crumpling slightly. The raging fire left her eyes as suddenly as it came, and she shivered as thunder rumbled long and low.

"I know when to give up," she stated dully, then shrugged. "I don't need to become someone else's verbal punching bag, especially when they're not even family," she murmured with bitter sarcasm.

His own hurt seared him. "At least they get paid for their trouble," he snapped back, watching the words wound before the hurt was swallowed.

"True. Would you like your reward now, Cowboy?" The words were deliberately cutting, spoken emotionlessly, and he sucked in a breath.

The old slam. And the more recent memories, the affection of the nickname dirtied.

His jaw clenched.

"Shut up!" Justin stopped him, shaking his head in violent disbelief as he jumped back into the conversation. "I can't believe you both! What the hell are you doing?" he demanded, glaring at them both.

Lance's lips twisted. "You wanted us to talk," he drawled.

"Wrong! You both are trying to drive each other away by insulting each other--"

"Let us talk our own way or not at all," Lance stated stiffly, crossing his arms. "And stay out of it, Justin."

"Sorry, can't do that," Justin countered ruefully.

"Take me back to the hotel," Abby insisted.

Lance smirked tightly. "Yeah, take her back." He bit back more stinging words.

Justin growled a curse in frustration. "She's leaving," he announced suddenly.

Everything seemed to grind to a stop for a few heartbeats. "Good."

"You cold-hearted, stubborn dumbass," Justin exploded.

"Meddling, know-it-all asshole," Lance snarled back.

"I can't believe you! How can you do this?"

"Ruin all your plans?" Lance mocked sarcastically. "Sorry I couldn't fall in line with them. Have to find something else to keep you occupied. Why don't you go find an available girl and get laid?" he advised harshly.

Abby sucked in a breath, her hand finding Justin's sleeve as he visibly paled. "Stop this," she whispered urgently.

The anger bubbling inside him escalated with the move. "C'mon, live in real life," he urged coldly. "Abby's--"

Justin glared at him narrowly. "You so deserve to have your ass kicked."

Abby's eyes were getting successively bigger.

"Think you could do it, little man?" he jeered, the anger flowing out like air from a stuck balloon.

"In a heartbeat," Justin seethed.

"Justin--" Abby croaked.

His eyes locked with angry blue ones. Maybe this would kill the regretful pain, at least for a little bit.

"Bring it on," he invited. 

"Stop, Justin, please," Abby murmured, trying to calm them both. Pain and worry pleated her brow.

Lance glared at Justin, his heart thudding painfully, the blood roaring in his ears. He looked at Abby, catching himself as he stared into luminous grey eyes. He yanked his gaze away.

"Just stop pushing, Justin," he hissed, yanking the bill of his cap lower.

"If you'd stop screwing things up on your own, I will," Justin grunted back, subsiding slightly. Abby's hand tightened in the sleeve of his jacket.

"Justin," she muttered desperately. "It's alright. This is fine."

His muscles felt as if they were spring-loaded, nerves so tightly strung they might snap. "She's right, everything's fine until people go sticking their noses where they don't need to be."

Justin returned him glare for glare, keeping his voice down with an effort. "You want to screw yourself over, fine by me, but Abby doesn't deserve this crap. If you think I'm going to let you keep messing with her head like you have been, you've got another--"

"Justin, this isn't worth it, please," Abby pleaded tiredly. The hurt confusion that flared in her eyes cut at him like finely honed razors. "Lance has every right not to like me, I under--"

"No," Justin interrupted sharply, pinning Lance with demanding eyes. "This has gone on long enough. Tell her, Lance. Tell her," he ordered.

"Stay out of it, J," he gritted, feeling blood in his cheeks.

"No, I'm your friend--"

"And if you want to stay that, you'll back your ass out of this issue," he snapped, lips tight. "Don't try to force me into a corner, Justin."

Abby's eyes widened with renewed fear. "No," she whispered. "This isn't worth you fighting over. I'll leave now if it's going to--"

"No! None of this is your fault." Justin negated.

He stared back at his younger friend stonily, not responding to the accusation he could see.

"Shut up, Justin!" Abby finally snapped, her voice rising. They both slanted startled looks at her.

"I won't stay. I'm not staying," she insisted quietly. He found himself looking into the sightless gaze that haunted him. Abby tried to smile, but it failed miserably, and he felt guilt sweep over him.

"Lance, whatever I did, I'm sorry," she offered, obviously at a loss.

He closed burning, tired eyes. Because she doesn't have anything to apologize for.

"I think I missed something somewhere, but I know when to cut my losses," she laughed hollowly. "Thanks for the knight in shining armor routine, superstar, but there are some things that should just be left alone."

He could feel Justin staring daggers at him, and he sighed inwardly.

"Some things are worth fighting for," Justin stated baldly.

His heart stopped for a split-second. His eyes flew open, seeing the words hovering in Justin's eyes.

"No, Justin," he threatened softly. "Do not."

"Will you just walk away?" Justin asked stubbornly. "What the hell will that accomplish?"

"You know what's going on, we've all had it happen, do you think it'll be different?" he demanded obliquely, jaw tight.

Justin's face tightened in denial. "If you want it, you can make it happen."

Abby was swinging back and forth between them in utter confusion, and he felt his heart cringe and wither a little bit.

He closed his expression. "I don't want it."

"Bullshit!" Justin exploded, and Abby jerked back in surprise.

His vision hazed a little bit, the regret fueling the anger that was directed mainly at himself. "Shut it, J. Before you go too far."

"Why not?" Justin seethed. "You've already driven her away, haven't you? How much farther--"

"When she's gone, that's how far," he snapped, cringing inside as he watched Abby physically retreat, her face closing and smoothing over.

Justin sucked in a breath. "Dammit, Lance, why are you--?"

He forced his eyes away from the barely veiled pain in her eyes, feeling numbly icy inside.

"This conversation is over," he declared, voice husky.

He slid out of the booth, arriving without remembering how at the door to the small diner, and slammed outside.

Rain poured from the sides of the awning, and he didn't hesitate before plunging out into the downpour. He darted across the wet street to the blaring of irate car horns, lightning crackling across the sky.

He heard Justin's furious voice calling his name as he reached the narrow alley that led towards their hotel parking lot.

His heart was pounding painfully, and he whirled around, paling as he saw a frightened Abby stumble slightly as she attempted to keep up with Justin's aggressive stride in the sheeting rain, her hair plastered to her head.

Protective fury roared through him. "Are you insane?!" he yelled, stopping Justin in his tracks a few feet away. Thunder boomed, shaking the air around them.

"Wha--"

"You could have killed Abby, dragging her across a busy street like that in the rain! What the hell were you thinking?!" he shouted furiously, not caring that they were drawing interest from the people hurrying by.

Justin's eyes widened. "Lance, I was just--"

"Acting like an idiot," he completed harshly. "Acting without thought. What would you have done if she'd gotten hurt because you weren't thinking? She could have slipped, could have gotten hit, because you were being careless!"

"Why does it matter to you, I though you just wanted her to leave?" Justin countered softly, knowingly.

Lightning cracked in the gray skies, illuminating wide silvery eyes, pale and full of almost fear in the fierce elements.

His jaw clenched.

"It's THEM!! It is, I knew it!"

Dread crossed both their faces instantaneously as they realized the consequences of not paying attention to their surroundings, and they spun to face the swelling crowd of adolescent girls, facing dozens of wide-eyed, excited stares, undampened by the rain.

"Damn," Justin muttered, backing away slightly, further into the alley. "How did they get here so fast?" He smiled weakly, holding up his hands slowly. "Hey, ladies."

"JUSTIN!!"

"LANCE!!"

"OH MY GOD, I LOVE YOU!!"

The crowd surged toward them as the cries exploded into incomprehensibility. Lance flinched as the shrill cries assaulted his eardrums.

"Whoa, wait," he tried calmingly, sucking in a breath as hands grabbed his coat sleeves. The hat was jerked from his head within seconds, the rain soaking his unprotected head. Faces blurred as adrenaline rushed through him.

Two feet away, Justin was trying to fend off frantic hands, throwing a helpless glance back at him. He wouldn't be able to close ranks for protection. The situation was rapidly escalating out of control.

They were outside, in plain view, without bodyguards. They were screwed.

He tried to block out the screams, thinking quickly. Then his heart stopped.

"Justin, where's Abby?!"

Thunder rolled menacingly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Abby listened to the argument rage, fine trembling coursing through her that had little to do with the cold rain pounding over them. Confusion was uppermost in her emotions, and a horrible sense of helpless pain.

Lance's silence and snubs over the past week had cut her as few things could, but hearing the actual words had had the power to bring her to her knees. Which was almost as confusing as Lance's abrupt change in attitude. Then and now.

Lightning cracked, and thunder rolled around them, making her wince. Her racing heart kicked up another notch as Justin moved away, his voice tough as he confronted Lance. But she couldn't focus on his words. The rain and thunder were smothering her normally acute senses, leaving her feeling intensely helpless.

The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end as thunder cracked again, her hearing and intuition telling her something was wrong, but she couldn't find it.

"It's THEM!! It is, I knew it!"

Terror coursed through her as human flesh surged around her, rushing for the objects of their obsession.

"JUSTIN!!"

"LANCE!!"

"OH MY GOD, I LOVE YOU!!"

The chants began, and she swung around wildly, becoming disoriented as she was rapidly pushed, shoved, and prodded around. She stumbled once, only sheer willpower keeping her upright.

Desperately, she shoved to be let loose from the waves of humanity, but her strength couldn't compare to theirs.

"LANCE?!" the scream tore from her throat as she turned helplessly in the tide of emotion-fueled females.

"JUSTIN?! Rain streamed into her eyes as she added her cries to the others. But they would never hear her, she realized with despair.

"OH GOD!! I LOVE LANCE, I LOVE YOU, LANCE!!"

She flinched, heart stuttering as the words were shouted into her ear. Her stomach lurched as she was carried forward several staggering steps. She lunged to the side, buffeted on all sides.

Her world went topsy-turvy, the darkness crashing down on her in sounds laden with shrieks and crying.

The breath in her lungs came in frightened gasps as she was crushed briefly, then shoved. Hard.

She was flying through the air, suddenly free. A panicked scream ripped from her, choked off abruptly as her right temple collided with the side of the brick building, stars exploding inside her skull.

Pure instinct made her cling to the rough brick, and she reeled as her equilibrium spun. Her nostrils flared as she scented the crowd through the rain, threateningly close. Dizziness assailed her as she straightened, breathing harshly.

The blood pounding in her ears made hearing impossible, but it was useless anyway as the storm rumbled closer. Shudders worked through her.

She was lost.

She flinched as the crowd moved closer, pain flaring through her head.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Desperately, he fended off the hands clutching at him, ignoring the cries as he strained to catch a glimpse of long black hair.

"Justin?!" He had to scream to be heard above the girls and the storm.

"Please," he nearly begged the girls closest to him. "Just be calm. Back off. We can't breathe."

But their hands only tightened as they were shoved from behind, forcing him backwards as well. Thunder rumbled.

"Lance?! I see--" Thunder drowned out the rest of Justin's exclamation.

Lance squinted through the murky air, following Justin's pointing arm towards the building next to the hotel. Lightning flashed violently, lighting the air for a split-second's brilliance, and he saw the small form crouched next to the opposite building.

His racing heart accelerated, and he suddenly reversed directions, trying to go through the crowd instead of pulling away.

"Let me through!" he cried, trying to shove them back as gently as possible. But there were too many. He paused, watching with growing fear as the shadowy form tried to stand, only to be jostled again.

"ABBY!!" he nearly shouted. With a sinking heart, he realized she couldn't hear him.

"AB--"

"HEY!! Everybody BACK!" a deep growl sliced through the pandemonium, and he nearly cried with relief as he saw all of their bodyguards descending into the narrow alley, firmly making a path through to their errant charges.

Momentarily startled, the crowd milled in confusion, the cries dying slightly, and he lunged through them. He grabbed Abby's shoulders seconds later, and felt her instinctive jerk.

"Abby?!"

Her eyes widened in the grayness, and his heart stumbled at the absolute fear in her gaze.

"Lance?"

His stomach unclutched just slightly, and he wrapped his arms around her shaking form, lifting her off her feet.

Shivering, her arms locked around him in a death grip, getting as close to him as possible.

Hurriedly, he looked back at the crowd, which was being gradually dispersed. Lonnie already had Justin in custody, but most of the crowd remained between the huge men and himself and Abby. He darted around the crowd, ducking his head.

"Lance?" Her whisper barely reached him over the storm.

"It's alright," he promised. "Just hold on." He switched his grip, swinging her easily up into his arms. She buried her head against his jacket, her grip disconcertingly strong, and he broke into a run, his shoulder almost brushing the building.

He didn't breathe easy until he rounded the back of the hotel, blinking the rain from his lashes. The bulk of the bus was a welcome sight, sitting like a silent, sturdy mountain in the drumming rain. He went to the door, grateful for the slight shelter it offered.

"Abby," he urged. "Abby, I need you to get the keys from my jacket pocket." He shivered as rain slid down the back of his neck.

She stirred, then he felt her small fingers disengage from his shirtfront, fumbling awkwardly at his side. She made a soft sound, withdrawing her hand.

"Well, I'm stupid," he muttered, squinting in the rain.

"Lance?" she questioned, exhaustion threading her voice.

"Abby, I'm going to set you down, so you don't have to find the keyhole, okay?"

Her grip tightened briefly before relaxing.

He released her legs, hunching over her slightly and pulling the keys from her hand. He fumbled briefly before fitting the right one into the lock, pulling once on the handle to get the door to release.

Lance sighed with relief, ducking into the dim interior and lifting Abby to the top step before climbing the rest of the way in. As if waiting for its cue, lightning arced across the sky, followed by a blast of thunder that shook the air. The rain intensified to flood proportions.

He saw Abby jerk and hunch her shoulders with the onslaught of sound, and reached up to stroke the clinging hair away from her cheek.

"It's okay, Abby."

She flinched suddenly, and he paused.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," came her whisper, then she was ducking away, moving like a ghost to the back of the bus.

Lance yanked the door closed with a sigh, the lock clicking into place, and the sounds were abruptly muffled.

He slicked the water away from his face and hair with jerky movements, feeling suddenly exhausted. He made his way towards an empty bunk, finding some towels and blankets. Lance dropped one over his own head, walking quietly into the back lounge.

His mouth was desert dry. Abby stood silently shivering in the middle of the floor. Without looking at him, she announced softly, "I'm wet."

He forced a smile. "So am I. Forget the furniture, Abby. Just sit down."

His knees were shaking, but Lance walked towards her when she didn't move. His heart sank as she shied away from his approach, moving stiffly towards the nearest couch and sinking down heavily, still huddled into herself.

He swallowed hard, crossing to place the pile of towels and blankets beside her and crouching down gingerly at her knees.

"Abby? Talk to me, please?" he requested. "I'm sorry for what happened outside." His lungs ached again when he thought about what could have happened to her.

A convulsive shiver worked through her, her face shadowed in the dimness.

"It wasn't your fault," came the frighteningly calm reply.

His lips tightened.

Lightning flashed again, less violently, and Lance realized that he hadn't turned on any lights. He reached over briefly, flicking on a lamp to chase back the shadows.

He turned back towards Abby and caught his breath. She was looking towards him with wide, soft eyes, soaked to the skin and shivering, but it was the blood trickling down her temple that grabbed his attention.

"Abby, why didn't you tell me you were hurt?" he asked, regret biting him.

Her eyes flickered, and she raised her hand towards her temple.

"I fell against the building," she offered quietly.

"Stay here, I'll be right back," he told her gruffly, heading back through the bunk area, glad for something constructive to do. He quickly found dry clothes, stripping to his boxers and using the towel to dry himself before pulling on the spare clothes.

Ducking into the kitchenette, he wet a washcloth and found the first aid kit, gathering the supplies and padding quietly back into the lounge.

Abby hadn't moved, didn't make a sound as Lance settled on his knees on the floor beside her. She sucked in a single breath as his fingers touched her chin, but didn't pull away, stiffly accepting his ministrations.

He couldn't stop himself from watching her as he cleaned the seeping cut on her temple. But her eyes stared straight ahead, her delicate features tight with strain as rain pattered softly on the roof of the bus.

His heart thudded heavily this close to her, but he couldn't think of anything to say to breach the uncomfortable silence. He'd already ruined any hopes of staying friends, but he was at a loss as to what he could do. His stomach ached with physical sickness as he stared into her sightless, silver eyes.

Lance stroked the wet strands of hair behind her ear, following the sight of his much larger hand against the fragile skin of her cheek. He dropped his hand with a sigh, reaching for the tube of antibiotic cream to apply to the cleaned abrasion.

Abby flinched once, but didn't make a sound as Lance slathered the cream on, quickly applying a gauze pad and tape as being close to her rattled him enough to make his hands shake.

Lance sank back onto his heels when he was finished, watching as she raised a hand to touch the white square at her temple.

"Thank you." Her voice was faultlessly polite, and his teeth gritted. He hauled in a breath, reaching for a blanket and wrapping it around her shoulders.

"There are probably some spare clothes if you want to change," he offered hesitantly.

"I'm fine," came her soft answer, followed immediately by a slight shiver.

Lance shook his head with an inward groan. "Stubborn," he muttered, grabbing a towel and squeezing the excess moisture out of the dripping tail of her long braid before dropping the terry over her head, careful of her temple.

He stole one quick look at her face, then froze.

"Abby?" Her name escaped him in a whisper, watching stunned as tears spilled out over her lashes, trickling silently down her cheeks.

He dropped the towel around her neck, backing away slightly to resist the temptation to haul her close.

The tears fell faster.

"Are you h-hurt?" he asked, heart accelerating.

Slate grey eyes lifted to his. "Why do you hate me, Lance?" Her hoarse words fell like stones into the beat of silence.

His throat closed. "I don't."

"You do," she insisted huskily. Her throat convulsed. "I don't know how to make you like me. I thought you did, but then things changed again."

He felt like a bastard.

"Abby," Lance struggled for the words. "I don't hate you, I swear. How could I hate the girl who learned how to make French toast in the toaster so I could have it whenever I wanted? Or the girl who'll stay up with me, with any of us, when we have an attack of insomnia?" Without thinking, he ran his knuckles across her cheek, gathering the dampness there.

Tears continued to fall slowly, doubt in her gaze.

"Abby, I swear," he whispered, watching as his fingers combed through the baby fine hair drying around her face. "Hate is the farthest thing from my mind when I think about you," he whispered almost inaudibly, watching her eyes widen, confusion flickering into something else.

Awareness. His heart rate doubled as he recognized the emotion that glimmered in her eyes, silvering them into fine pewter as the air seemed to still around them, holding its breath.

"Lance?" A trickle of almost fear was in her voice, but he ignored it, exhilaration singing through him.

"Abby," he whispered in return, cupping her jaw in his palms. His heart raced as everything inside him committed to the kiss.

Lightning sheeted slowly across the sky, flooding the room with light and silvering everything about Abby into ethereal softness. His breathing stopped as he slanted his lips against hers in the lightest of touches, watching her eyes widen with a wild mixture of tangled emotion for several heartbeats.

His heart soared as her eyes slowly fluttered closed, shuttering her gaze. Only then did he let his own slide closed, pressing closer to her as he felt the first touch of her fingers against his shoulders, then his jaw.

The thunder finally murmured, rumbling deep and low. But he couldn't hear it for the pounding of his own heart, the electricity singing around them crackling with an energy of its own.