He laid in the top bunk, eyes wide open, staring at the pale shimmering of the winter moonlight that glistened off the passing trees. They were somewhere in the Midwest, traveling from one concert city to another. Four of his friends were fast asleep around him, as exhausted as he after another two hours of singing, dancing, and paying their dues. Things had changed; nothing obvious, nothing overt. And yet with each passing day he felt more and more that things were different now. He did not regret Christmas. But he knew that he would have to be patient, to surrender his passions, his feelings, to Lance's timetable. The schism had been immediate when they all came back together on tour after the holidays. A little hesitation, a swallowed word, just little things that only the two of them noticed. Well, maybe just things that he noticed. He accepted it, forcing himself to be patient.

Quietly, he made his way out of his bunk, jumping as quietly as possible onto the floor of the bus so as not to wake the others. Pulling on a sweatshirt to cover his trim chest, he made his way toward the front of the bus. The figure on the couch was sprawled out, hugging a book on his chest and snoring slightly to the rhythm of the bus. JC couldn't help but smile as he looked down at the sleeping face.

'The Tale of Genji? We're in the middle of a tour and he's reading The Tale of Genji.' JC chuckled as he put the book on the table and pulled a spare blanket over the younger man. He bent down and placed the slightest of kisses on Lance's forehead before proceeding to the very front of the bus.

"Good morning, James," JC whispered as he sat down beside the driver. "Where are we?"

"Hey, Joshua. We just crossed the Illinois state line about ten minutes back. We'll be in Cleveland in about two hours. What are you doing up?" James, the driver, replied, never taking his eyes off the road.

"Can't sleep." JC said, eliciting a soft chuckle from James. "What's so funny?"

"You can't sleep?" James asked, raising an eyebrow at his young charge. "Since when, Rip Van Winkle?"

"Come on, I'm not that bad," JC protested, knowing that his reputation catching REMs was rapidly growing among the crew.

"Not that bad? What was it that Lance said once? You put Sleeping Beauty to shame, and I don't think he was talking about you rivaling her in the makeup department, either." James ribbed his friend.

"Lance said that? Why that little weasel –" JC responded.

"I swear, it's a miracle that you two are even friends," the driver laughed. "With the way the two of you fight, you're worse than old married couples. My folks have been married 50 years and they don't fight as much as the two of you."

"It's that noticeable?" JC said, never realizing that his relationship with Lance was ever that noticeable to anyone else.

"Noticeable? The crew has a pool going as to who's going to take the first punch. Johnny's told your security team to keep the two of you apart as much as possible. He has nightmares about a public WWF knockdown." James continued.

"Lance and I … we just disagree on a lot of things," JC admitted. "We aren't that bad, are we?"

"The crew calls it The Civil War, Part 2," James told JC, giving the younger man much to think about on their journey to Cleveland.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Hey Lance, can I talk to you for a minute?" Joey asked as he slipped into the chair next to his friend. They had just finished sound check, and there was a little more than two hours to go before the show began. Chris, Justin, and JC had all wandered off, leaving Joey and Lance alone in the dressing room. Lance had been trying to get a quick nap in, trying to shrug off the tiredness that he felt. He had been tired, too tired, lately. The tours, the schedule, the discreet talks that he had with the lawyers, were all getting to him. He was beginning to wonder if he really needed, or actually wanted, this life.

"Sure, Joey," Lance said, pulling his skinny frame up and sitting on the couch. "What's up?"

"Oh … nothing really. I just wanted to know how you're doing. We really haven't talked since Christmas. And now with this hectic tour, I guess I missed talking to you." Joey ventured. His voice betrayed his concern. The doctor had told them that Lance was okay, that he was cleared to go on tour again, but Joey was still uneasy. The more the weeks went by, the more he felt as if he was watching Lance wither away.

"Joey, you're a terrible liar," Lance said matter-of-factly. "To put your mind at ease, I'm fine. I'm not sick anymore. I take my vitamins, per doctor's orders. Chicken Legs is making sure that I keep to the 'Fatten Poofu Up' diet, and JC and I are averaging only four fights a week now, so my blood pressure is only marginally high."

"Hell, Lance. Am I that transparent? Can't I worry about you sometime? Mama Bass is going to kick all of our asses of you get sick again, you know that?" Joey sighed.

"No, Joey. You're not that predictable. But I've already had this conversation with Chris two days ago and with Justin about a week ago. Y'all might try to coordinate it better the next time you try to get some information from me. And as I told both Chris and Justin, I'm fine. There's nothing to worry about. I'm fine, okay?" Lance explained, weary that his friends were treating him like a kid. He was 19 years old; he didn’t need a baby sitter.

"Okay, Lance. We'll ease off. But you have to promise me one thing. Promise me that you'll tell us if something's wrong? We're a family. We all care about you. Okay?" Joey said, agreeing to drop the subject.

"Yes, Dad. Now, can I go back to my nap? Please?" Lance said with a smile, earning a playful slap over the head from Joey before the older man left him alone.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Goddamnit, Lance! You can't do this!" JC yelled as he and Lance came rushing into the living room of the suite that was the group's temporary home for three days. They were on the southern swing of their tour, stopping in Atlanta to do two shows before a mini-break for three more days back in Orlando. "You're going to fucking kill yourself if you keeping pulling stupid stunts like this! Tell Johnny that you're not going to do it!" Chris and Joey, who had been playing video games, now turned their attention to their arguing friends. Neither opened their mouths, but they both had the same look on their faces.

"It's no big deal, JC. And stop listening in on my phone conversations!" Lance replied angrily.

"Listening in? You had him on the damn speakerphone when I came out of the shower. Don't blame me if you don't want other people to listen in!" JC shouted, oblivious to the fact that he was only wearing a towel around his waist and was still dripping water onto the carpet.

"Uh – JC? Trouble in paradise again?" Chris quipped, earning a glare from JC. "I thought that the two of you were going to try to be more civil to each other."

"I am trying, Christopher. But this country boy here is going to get himself killed one of these days by agreeing to all of Johnny's stupid hare-brained ideas." JC retorted. His two friends could almost see the smoke coming out of his ears.

"Okay, Lance. What stupid hare-brained idea are you doing now?" Joey asked, earning the same glare from Lance that JC had given to Chris.

"It's nothing, Joey. I'm just going to fly to Nashville for some meetings with some country music folk. Johnny thinks it's a good idea to get my name out there in country music for Free Lance. Lord of the Dance here thinks –" Lance explained, only to be cut off by JC.

"He's going to fly out after our last show here and then hook up with us again in DC when the tour resumes. I told him that he needs to take these three days that we have in Orlando and rest. We've been on the road for two months straight now and he needs this vacation as much as the rest of us." JC countered. "March and April are going to be hell for us, what with the tour and the promotional swings out to LA. He can't keep using his vacation time to work a second full-time career!"

"Look, JC. I'm trying to start up this company, and I need to spend as much time on it as I can. And if that means using my vacation time to do it, then I will. I don’t tell you when to do your producing jobs, so don’t tell me when to work on Free Lance!" Lance argued, turning away from JC and heading back toward the bedroom. He did not want to have this argument right now. His migraine was just killing him. But JC wouldn't let him go, instead grabbing him by the shoulders and turning him around.

"Are you trying to kill yourself? Is that it? Well, I'm not going to let you do that!!" JC blurted out, unable to control his anger. Silence descended on the room. Lance's face became ashen, as if JC's words had physically struck him. Chris and Joey were shocked as they saw the stricken look on Lance's face. And JC was horrified at what he had just said.

"Oh my God. Lance – I didn't mean that – I" JC whispered as he realized what he had just said. The punch came from JC's left, sending him sprawling across the coffee table and on top of Joey. No one in the group had ever realized that Lance was such a good pugilist before now.

"Go to hell, Josh," Lance said calmly as he stormed out of the suite, leaving three shocked friends behind.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Did you find him?" JC asked anxiously from under the big piece of raw steak that covered his left eye. It had been three hours since Lance had run out of the suite, and no one had been able to find him. JC was beyond panic.

"No, JC. Just calm down. I'm sure he just went off somewhere to cool off," Justin replied.

"You have to find him, Justin. We have to find him before he does something stupid," JC pleaded.

"Why JC? Exactly what do you think Lance would do?" Justin asked.

"Nothing … nothing. We just have to find him, that's all," JC murmured in a totally unconvincing voice. "We just have to find him. And I need to apologize. I need to set things right."