Chris absent-mindedly scratched his left wrist. Suddenly, his skin stung and a drop of red oozed out of his scabbed-over gash. He wiped his arm on his shirt, the blood transferring to the fabric, a crimson streak near the seam. The pain reminded him of the reason he was there in the first place. Anger flowed through his veins now, sharing the space with blood cells. Anger directed at one person. A person that he used to consider his brother and best friend. His thoughts were briefly interrupted by a lanky man calling for someone named Janice. As a nurse helped the man back to his room, Chris' mind drifted back to his previous thoughts.

"He fucking knew it. He knew I'd walk in and trip over the chair. He knew I'd put my hand on the counter to regain my balance. He knew I wouldn't see any that fucking knife. He knew I'd slit my wrist on the blade. He knew I'd pass out from the blood loss. And he knew he could "find me" on the floor just in time to rush me to the hospital. He knew they'd think I was crazy when I told them my side. He knew they'd bring me here. He knew the guys would never move on in the group without the founding member. He had it all fucking
planned."

To some extent, Chris' assumptions were correct. He had explained his theories to the doctors, and they had sent him to Oak Wood Mental Facility. But was Chris completely right? Had one of his bandmates really almost killed him simply so *NSYNC could never reunite? He didn't want to believe it. Chris had known him since he'd moved to Florida. He had watched him grow up. But really, how many people would want to hurt Chris? Then again, how many people tape kinves to their counter so that someone would accidentally slit their wrist on it? And then when Chris had been checked in, the guys announced it on MTV and who did all of the talking? Yeah, him. While the other three stood there looking upset and depressed, he had no problem taking over. He pretended to be upset, and damn, he did a good job. But Chris had always been able so see through all of his bullshit, and he saw through it on the t.v. as well.

Chris knew what he had to do. All he had to do was make a call. One fucking call, to one person. There was one person Chris could call, and he'd fix everything. Chris knew this person would believe him. He always had. He picked up the phone and tapped out the numbers. The person answered on the third ring.

"Lance?" Chris said, relieved that he'd answered. "I've got something I have to tell you... about Justin."

JC got up and stretched, dreading the day ahead of him. He knew what he had to do, knew it would shake things up. But still, all he seemed to feel, was... numbness. The kind of numbness he imagined one would feel after being shot. It was almost as if he were a robot, performing daily functions out of monotony, not out of desire or want.

He loved Chris, and he loved Justin. They were practically his brothers. But one of them would end up getting hurt before this was all over, and JC wasn't in favor of hurting either one of them.

He wondered what the tabloids would say after it was all said and done. He smiled, imagining the possibilities. The world hadn't expected any of it, and with the way things had been going, the situation had surprised JC as well.

Putting on his pants, he rehearsed what he wanted to say to Justin. Why would Justin do this? How could he just ruin everything?

He slipped his shirt on and picked up his cell phone, then put it back down where it had been. Replaying in his head was the conversation he'd had with Lance the night before. Lance had told him how sad Chris had sounded, how fragile. He remembered how frightened he had been. Lance even tried to figure out how long it had been after Chris started talking that he realized his best friend was crying. He couldn't pinpoint the exact moment, although he did know that soon after, he himself had begun to cry. He didn't think he'd get so emotional over it, but once he'd heard the pain and fear in Chris' voice, the tears just started flowing.

Lance didn't really know what to do, so he called JC to ask for his help. And once they hung up, JC had gone to sleep to clear his head a bit. But now, he knew what had to be done, so he picked his phone back up and dialed Justin's number.

"Hey man. We need to talk."

Justin pulled his jacket collar up, put his sunglasses on, and pressed his beanie down on his head before exiting the car. He had a hunch as to what JC wanted to discuss, but JC was unpredictable, so he couldn't be completely sure.

He glanced toward the front desk and walked by unnotcied. Pleased, he smiled to himself and took the elevator to the third floor of the hotel where JC was staying. The doors opened and he spotted his friend leaning against the wall, waiting for him. He headed toward the older man hesitantly, seeing the look on his face.

"Jayce? What's up, man?" he tried to act nonchalant, putting his sunglasses in his back pocket.

In one swift movement, JC grabbed a fistful of Justin's shirt and slammed him against the tan-colored wall, pinning him there with his other arm.

"What the fuck is your problem, man?" Justin cried. JC pressed his arm against the younger man's neck, causing his head to hit the wall hard, and his breath to be cut short.

"What the fuck do you think my problem is?" he growled.

"I don't know." Justin choked.

"What did you say to Chris?"

"Nothing." Justin's voice came out strangled.

"He knows what you did. And he almost died, Justin." JC said, his rage building.

"What I did?!? You mean what we did?!?" Justin gasped for breath, struggling to get free as JC pressed his arm down further.

"No, Justin. You almost killed him, not me."
"It was your idea."

"But nobody's going to know that, are they, Justin?"

"Nobody's gonna find out."

"Because I can put you in the same place as Chris, or worse."

"Nobody's gonna find out!" Justin repeated louder, pushing against JC's arms to free himself. But his muscles were weak in comparison to his bandmate's.

"Nobody will know how we, no, how you tried to break up the group this way. Got it? Nobody?"

"Nobody. *NSYNC's finished, and that's all that matters." Justin managed to shake his head slightly.

"That's what I thought." JC released his hold on Justin, but before he could get away, JC hit him squarely in the crotch with his knee. Justin's face turned red and tears welled up in his eyes as he crumpled to the ground in a heap. When he hit the floor, there was an audible snap, as his sunglasses broke from him landing on them. He lay ther, gasping for breath while JC stared at him.

"You always were a fucking prick, you know that?" and with that, he kicked the younger man in the ribs hard before walking away.

"But I have no authorization to release him!" a short, plump woman hurriedly followed Joey down the hall.

"It's a family emergency! His mother is in the hospital!" Joey yelled.

"I understand that, sir, but I could get sued, fired, or both if I just let you take him!" Joey stopped in the doorway to Chris' room and took the nurse's hand. Pulling a marker from his pocket, he quickly scrawled his cell phone number on her skin.

"My name is Joey. If they have a problem, call me. We're leaving now." Chris stood behind the younger man, confused. Joey nodded reassuringly at him and led him by the arm to the lobby, out the door, and to a waiting limo.

As soon as the door was shut, Joey turned to Chris, his eyes wide. The driver pulled away from the curb, and Chris finally turned to face his bandmate.

"Is my mom ok?" he asked, tears in his eyes.

"Shit, no, Chris. You're mom's great. That was just a lie to get you out of there. Nothing's wrong with your mom."

"Thank God." he wiped his eyes, breathing a sigh of relief.

"But there is bad news." Joey said, sensing Chris' fear renewed. "Justin-"

Oh God! Chris' screamed in his head, did Justin hurt one of the others? What did he do now? Shit, did he do something else to make them think I really am crazy?

"What'd he do this time?" Chris broke in. Joey took a deep breath before going on.

"From what Lance said, he met JC at his hotel, then JC attacked him."

"Was Lance there?" Chris asked. He knew JC would never do something like that. Mellow, calm JC? No way.

"No." Joey closed his eyes, willing himslef to remain calm.

"Then how does he know? How does he know Justin's not lying?" There's no way in hell that they're gonna try to make me believe that JC beat Justin up he thought to himself.

"Becasue there were witnesses, Chris! And Justin can't be lying! He's been unconsious since it happened." Joey said, his voice cracking and his eyes giving way to tears.

Chris was silent for a while, pondering his feelings. "OK, so tell me, what happened again?"

"After you called Lance, he was kind of freaked, so Lance called JC. JC said he'd "have a talk" with Justin, then he beat him up." Joey wiped his nose with the back of his sleeve.

"Is Justin gonna be ok?" Chris whispered as tears fell.

"He's got three crarcked ribs, and two bruised ones, a concussion, minor brain damage, and some internal bleeding."

The two men broke down then, knowing the answer.

"Brain damage?" Chris finally said.

"From asfixiation." Chris stared at him, clueless. "It means his air supply was cut off for some period of time."

"Dear God."

"I know."

~*~

Once they reached the hospital parking lot, the two popstarts leapt out of the limo and ran to the doors. Joey led the way to the ICU where Justin was being held. They heard several people yelling, and as they rounded the corner, something stopped them dead in their tracks.

"Oh my God."

"Holy shit."

~*~

"Wow. You're pretty wild, babe." JC breathed as he zipped his pants and slid his belt throught the loops.

"You were great. Maybe we can do this again sometime." the blonde replied, pulling the sheets up.

"Yeah, maybe."

A loud knock on the door startled both of them. JC's eyes widened when he opened the door to reveal two police officers.

"Joshua Chasez?"

"Yeah?" he nonchalantly adjusted his fly.

"Sir, I'm afraid you're going to have to come with us."

"Chris! Chris! Has this incident sent you into any kind of depression?"
"Is it true that JC is the person responsible for attacking Justin?"
"Joey, what do you think was going through JC's mind for him to do something like this?"

A room full of microphones were thrust into the faces of the shocked popstars. The two were silent, not knowing what they were or were not to say.

"Move back to either side of the hall and exit as you came. This is for family only. You all need to leave." Hearing Lonnie's deep voice, the crowd of reporters stared at the huge bodyguard, clearly in awe of his presence. Lonnie quickly ushered the two men down the hall to another room, this one more private.

"Lance?" Chris said upon entering the room.

"Thank God you guys made it past all those people." Lance said, hugging first Chris, then Joey.

"How is he?" Chris asked, clearly shaken.

"He woke up, but other than that, the same, I guess. Johnny and Lynn are with the doctor right now." Almost on cue, Lynn Harless entered the room with Johnny in tow.

"Chris, Joey, I;m so glad you're here." She hugged each of them tightly.

"How's he doing, Lynn?" Joey asked.

"Not good. His chances are slim, according to Dr. Patterson." She barely uttered the words before she broke down into choking sobs. Lance stepped forward and cradled her silently. After a few minutes, Johnny spoke up. "One or two people can be with him at a time. We've already been in there. Do you want to see him, Chris?" Chris glanced down at the long, purple scar that now permanently adorned his wrist. He rubbed it gently with his right hand.

"Yeah. I wanna see him."

~*~

The officer cuffed JC and asked his partner to read the popstar his rights. As he spoke, JC's mind clicked through all of his possible options.

"Sir?" the officer said.

"What?"

"I said, do you understand that you're being charged with the attempted murder of Justin Randall Timberlake?"

"That's what I'm being charged with?"

"Yes, sir."

"Ok." He was too stunned to say anything else as the two officers pushed him into the car, shut the door behind him, and drove away from the grimy hotel.

~*~

The heart monitor beeped steadily, and an air pump forced air into the 23-year-old's lungs via two tubes in his nose. Chris stepped into the room, taking it in slowly. Joey and Lance had warned him that Justin didn't look like Justin, especially with all the equipment he was hooked up to. He stepped forward causiously, finally glancing at his bandmate. Seeing that his eyes were closed, he approached the Justin further. There were several small scratches on his face, and a large bruise that spanned his neck almost in its entirety.

The younger man's eyes slowly fluttered open and focused on Chris.

"Hey Psycho," Justin said, forcing a smile. Chris winced. That nickname stung now, considering his current circumstances. "there's something I have to tell you."

Chris took another step forward. It bothered him to see his best friend in such a state, but he knew he had to be strong for the younger man, even if he had tried to murder him. He looked at Justin silently, watching his chest rise and fall, and he wondered what he was about to say to him.

"I'm sorry," he began, his voice low and raspy. "about what happened. I didn't want to do it. I didn't want to hurt you. You've got to believe me." Tears appeared in the corners of Justin's eyes as Chris spoke, choking back sobs of his own.

"I believe you."

Justin went on. "It was JC's idea. He knew I wanted to try my own stuff, and he wanted to go solo too. We were just supposed to scare you. I didn't know that he would almost kill you. After he found out that you suspected me, he said we needed to talk. He thought I had confessed. He told me that I was going to take the blame, even though it was his idea and he planned it all. Then he said that if I didn't take the blame, he'd put me in the same place as you. The last thing I remember, he bashed me in the ribs. But you've gotta beleive me, Chris. I never meant for it to go this far. I didn't even know about the knife set up until it happened. JC did that on his own while I was gone. I'm sorry." Justin's fear was apparent as his heart rate went up, and his tears spilled down his cheeks. The beeps from the heart monitor became more and more rapid, and the breaths Justin took became more shallow.

"Justin? Justin!" Chris yelled in a panic.

"I love you, Chris." Justin whispered.

"Justin, don't do that! Justin! Oh my God, Justin!" Chris yanked the door open and sprinted down the hall to the nurses' station. "Come quick," he said breathlessly, "my friend is, I dunno, just... help!"

Three nurses and a doctor ran after Chris back to Justin's room. Within seconds, Dr. Patterson rushed in and took charge. Chris' face turned more pale with each word the doctor and nurses exchanged.

"He's going into shock! Get me a crash cart, NOW!"
"His blood pressure is still rising!"
"We've got to get him into Emergency Surgery!"
"Where the hell is that crash cart?!?"

"Justin! JUSTIN! JUSTIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I love you, Justin! I'm sorry!" Chris screamed above the noise.

"Somebody get him out of here!" Dr. Patterson hollered. A nurse escorted Chris out of the room and signaled to Fritz. She spoke softly as she led him away, but Chris didn't hear a word she said. He was too worried about Justin.

~*~

"I didn't try to kill him!!!!" JC yelled, slamming his fists on the table.

"Oh, really?"

"Why would I strangle my best friend?"

"Woah, hold on, there. No one said anything about Justin being strangled." The police officer raised an eyebrow. "Is there something you'd like to share with us, rockstar?"

JC was silent as he realized what he had just done. "Can I see my lawyer?"

"What's taking so long?" Chris asked the room as he paced back and forth, chewing on his fingernails.

"Chris! Would you just sit down? You're driving me crazy!!!" Joey exploded as a tear ran down his cheek. Lance scooted closer to him and put his arm around his shoulders. Joey leaned into him, letting his tears soak Lance's shirt.

"Lynn?" Lonnie stepped in the room. "Umm, Karen's here." In walked Karen Chasez, prepared to hug the blonde woman.

"Karen, hi." Johnny said as Lynn wrapped her arms around her.

"I'm so sorry, Lynn. I didn't... Josh never... we just..."

"It's o.k." Lynn said, her face buried in the woman's shoulder. "I know you had nothing to do with it." They hugged for a long time before sitting down on a couch in the corner of the room.

Suddenly, Lance's pager went off, so he stepped outside with Lonnie to make a phone call on his cell. When he returned, his face was full of relief. "My mom's coming. She said your mom's are coming, too." he said, gesturing to Chris and Joey.

Within minutes, the waiting room was filled with additional people. Bev, Phillis, Joe Sr., Diane, and Melinda all showed up, and more were coming. Joey's brother was coming, as well as Chris' sisters, the rest of Justin's family, plus extra security for the large group.

~*~

"Lance! Lance!" Chris whispered to his friend. Everyone who was still at the hospital was asleep- except for Chris. He looked around at the goup. Joey was on the floor snoring, Lynn was on the couch with a blanket covering her, Johnny had fallen asleep at a table covered in paperwork, Melinda was quietly snoozing at the end of Lynn's couch, and Lance was in a chair, covered with Joey's "Superman" hoodie.

"Huh? I'm the second "N" in "*NSYNC", not the first one." Lance mumbled sleepily. Chris smiled to himself, please with the welcome distracton.

"Lance?" he asked.

"Hmm?"

"Are you asleep?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"Lance, what's Joey's biggest secret?"

"Hmm? Uh, he still..."

"Still what, Lance?"

"...sucks his thumb." Chris giggled quietly before continuing.

"Lance, who's your favorite Backstreet Boy?"

"No, Justin's the youngest."

"No, no, no, Lance, tell me who your favorite Backstreet Boy is." Chris replied, taking advantage of his sleeping bandmate.

"Mmmm. I like Nick. He's got pretty eyes." Lance muttered.

Laughing, Chris gently shook the younger man. "Lance? Will you go outside with me?"

"Huh? What?" Lance's eyes opened slowly as he stretched.

"Do you wanna go outside with me?"

"Yeah." he said, slipping Joey's hoodie over his head.

~*~

Neither of them spoke until they got outside. The night air was cool and crisp.

"Why did JC do it?" Chris asked softly, his hands in his pockets as he stared out at the night sky.

Lance inhaled deeply, letting the air chill his lungs. "I don't know."

"Were you in on it, too?"

"God, no, Chris! How could you say that?!?"

"I'm sorry. I had to ask." They were silent for a moment, just listening to the chirp of crickets.

"What'd Justin say to you today?" Lance asked, crossing his arms.

"Nothing. He said he was sorry. He cried, then all that stuff happened."

"Sorry for what?"

"The thing with the knife. I guess JC did that, not Justin." Chris shrugged.

"J really did the other stuff, though?"

Chris looked at Lance, his hands still in his pockets. "I'm not crazy, Lance." He turned his attention back to the stars.

"I never said-" Lance started.

"You all thought so, though." Chris cut him off. "It wasn't at all difficult for you guys to believe it. I've always been the 'crazy one'. And after everything I've gone through in the past couple of months, it seemed like no surprise to you that I could break down and lose my mind."

Lance took a step closer before responding. "I don't think you're crazy. I believe you. I know that you were set up. I've known that since you called me from Oak Wood that night. And I'm sorry if it didn't seem like I believed you before."

Chris smiled sadly. "Since this all happened, I've wondered what it would be like to hear those words. And now that I hear them, it's like... nothing."

"That's because your 'big brother' instinct kicked in and it over-powered your anger. That's also why you're too worried about Justin to care why JC did this to you in the first place."

"Do you think Justin will be o.k.?" Chris asked quietly, almost hoping that if he didn't say the words, then it wouldn't be real.

"I don't know. It doesn't look good."

Chris exhaled heavily. "JC's in so much trouble. I know he did all this, but I still love him. He's still my brother."

"I know. Me too."

"I have to talk to him." Chris decided quickly.

"What?!?" Lance's eyes were wide.

"I have to talk to JC." And with that, Chris turned to re-enter the building. Before pulling the door open, though, he turned to Lance. "Nick, huh?"

"No way, man. I am not gonna escort y'all to hell just so JC can infiltrate your minds with crazy shit. No way. No."

"Come on, Lonnie." Chris pleaded with the large man.

"No! Y'all woke me up and now you're pissing me off!"

Without thinking, Lance grabbed his bodyguard's arm. "Ok. You know what? You like your job. I know that, Lonnie. And if you want to keep it, I suggest you do what we say. And we say you go with us to see Jayce."

Mumbling under his breath, Lonnie stood up and put on his coat. "You've gone to the dark side, Bass."

~*~

They arrived at Davidson Correctional Facility unannounced, but not unpredicted. The grounds were swarming with reporters and photographers alike, all pleading with the stars to give a comment.

Lonnie ushered them through the ocean of paparazzi and into the main building. Lance pressed a button to summon a security guard. The guard buzzed them in, took all their metal belongings, and sent the men through a series of weapon detectors. Then he pointed to a window and ordered them to ring the bell. Lonnie did so, and within seconds, a tall, burly man appeared on the other side.

"Yes?" he said gruffly.

“Lance Bass, Christopher Kirkpatrick, and Lonnie Jones to see Joshua Chasez.” Lance answered. The man brought a walkie-talkie to his lips. “Prisoner number…” He glanced down at a list before continuing. “320497. Prisoner number 320497 to cell 13. Three guests.” He put the walkie-talkie on the desk. “Howie will escort you to partial confinement cell 13.”

A short, dark-haired man, possibly of Italian or Hispanic descent, appeared. His brown-black locks were pulled into a ponytail at the nape of his neck and as he rounded the corner, his carefully-gelled curls bounced a little.

“Please follow me.” The three men walked with him down a corridor and stopped at a door on the right side of the hall. Howie let them in, introducing them to yet another security guard.

“This is Kevin.” Howie said simply, gesturing to the goateed, spiky-haired man. The men looked around the room. There were bars dividing the room into two parts, each with its own entrance. They had folding chairs to sit in, and a solitary metal seat was bolted down to the floor on the opposite side.

Within seconds, the door opened to the prisoner entrance and a gangly, dark-haired man in an orange jumpsuit appeared. A guard stood behind him, and a quick glance at his nametag identified him as “Brian”. The gangly man sat down in the chair. It took a minute for the men to realize that it was JC. His hair was untamed and unwashed, and his soft facial features were marred by dark brown stubble. He sat in the chair without a word or eye contact to any of the three people seated before him.

He slid down into a slouching position in the chair, very unlike JC.

“Hi, Jayce.” Lance said.

JC put his hands together in his lap, the handcuffs clanking against one another. “Hello.” he mumbled.

“What up, kid?” Chris nervously joked.

“Hey.”

“How’s it shakin’, Rock Star?” Lonnie played.

“Hi.”

“How you holdin’ up, man?” Lance asked.

“My cellmate hasn’t beaten me up yet, so I’d say pretty well.”

“Is he o.k., or kinda scary?”

“He’s o.k. His name’s A.J. and he sings, too.”

“Why’s he in here?” Chris jumped in.

“Attempted assault and repeated counts of rape.” The room went silent for a bit until JC spoke again. “Lance? Could you and Lonnie leave me with Chris so I can talk to him… privately?” Lance and Lonnie exchanged nervous glances before looking at Kevin, then nodding. Chris squirmed uneasily as the door shut behind them. “What’s up?” he asked.

“Why are you here?” JC questioned gruffly.

“Because I-” Chris started.

“Did you think you could fix things?”

“I just-”

"Did you think you could make everything all better?"

"JC, I was-"

“Shut up!” JC jumped up from his chair angrily and grabbed the bars dividing him from his band mate. His knuckles turned white as he clenched his fists around the cold iron rods. The metal handcuffs bounced off the bars as he spoke. “The whole point was for *NSYNC to disappear. It would’ve been a lot easier if you would’ve just kept your mouth shut! *NSYNC would be gone, and things would be fine, but you screwed it up… like you always do.” he spat.

“Why?” Chris asked, now standing. “Why did you want *NSYNC to be over with so badly?”

“I’m sick of being in the fucking shadow of “Mr. JT” and it was the only way to get out.”

“Justin is in the hospital, JC. And if he dies, you’ll be the one that killed him.”

“That’s what the little fucker deserves. And if you don’t watch yourself, I’ll have you put in the ground next to him.”

“You know, everyone thinks I’m crazy, but you know what? You’re the one that needs to be at Oak Wood.”

“Just watch your back, Kirkpatrick.”

“Yeah, sure. And if you drop the soap in the shower, don’t bend over to pick it up.” JC lunged at Chris but before he could reach between the bars, Brian had him in his grip.

“FUCK YOU, CHRISTOPHER!” JC yelled as Brian pinned him on the ground.

And with that, Chris walked out of the room.

As he exited the building, Chris tried to breathe deeply to calm himself, but his anger wasn't hidden.

"What happened?" Lance asked once his friend slid into the limo.

"Nothing." Chris replied through gritted teeth, his fists clenched on his knees.

"Then why are your knuckles white?" Lonnie jumped in.

"You know what would be great, is if the two of you would shut the hell up and leave my ass alone."

"What would be great is if you'd stop being such a moody bitch, and think about someone other than yourself for once." Lance retorted.

"Yeah, man. Other people are hurtin'. It ain't just you, kid."

"You weren't in that jail, listening to one of your best friends tell you how he plotted against you. You weren't in that room watching your other friend send his heart into shock because he was telling you the true story. And you weren't in that hospital, pleading with God to just let you die because at least that would be easier than having the world think you're psychotic. So excuse me if I'm not fucking jumping up and down."

The three men were silent the rest of the way to the hospital.

~*~

That night, Chris slept over at Joey's. For a guest room, the space was quite nice, and Chris noted that Kelly had good taste.

Surprisingly, the singer managed to get to sleep, but his night was marred by nightmares that wouldn't stop.

*Dream*

"Chris! Help me!" Justin said as a knife went into his stomach.

"Too late, Kirky. Juju's dead." JC cackled, throwing the knife down on the ground next to him. A bright, orange ring of flames burst up around the popstar, sealing him in without an exit. So it seemed.

"Karma, Josh. Karma. It's here to bight you in the ass." Chris cried. JC took a step forward, then another until he was in front of the fire without so much as a singed hair.

"Is that so, Chris? Did you really think we'd always be *NSYNC? Did you really think this was serious? How stupid can you be, not to know that this was just here while it was convenient? Dumbass. You have always been blinded by the fake smiles "Little Brother" here would put on in front of you." JC was growing taller with every word he uttered. Towering over Chris, he went on. "You were in the way. You still are, and now, I'm going to move you out of my way."

"Chris! CHRIIIIIIIIS!!!!!!"

*End Of Dream*

"What?" Chris blinked his eyes, trying to sheild the light out. "Joey, what the fuck are you trying to do?" Joey was hauling him out of bed and throwing clothes at him.

"Get dressed." Joey's voice was shaky.

"Joe? What happened? What's going on?" Chris saw tears glistening in his friend's eyes.

"They need us at the hospital." was Joey's answer.

And somehow, from the depths of his heart, Chris knew why.