Apparently, having pneumonia was a jail sentence when diagnosed with leukemia.  Ever since being discharged the day before (It was now Christmas Day), he had not been allowed to even leave his bed.  Justin, along with his parents and Lauren had all but given him the ultimatum: get well or spend the remainder of the week in the hospital hooked up to monitors, as per the doctor's orders. As stubborn as he was, and as much as he loved having needles inserted and removed nearly daily in the three days he was there, he opted out of staying in the hospital and going home to be watched like four hawks circling on their prey.

And boy was it getting annoying. He shifted in bed, his entire body aching with the fever that was still hanging out throughout his body.  It had lowered a good few decimal points since the day he fainted and to his tired body there was no difference even though the thermometer said so.  It seemed that since he had left the hospital, while the fever had gone down, his body aching had gone up.  He wasn’t one to complain, but it did hurt like hell.

A slightly tolerable hell, if that was possible. The house was quiet; Justin having gone with his parents to visit his grandparents and Lauren out running a few errands at the grocery store.  She had asked him to go and at least sit in the car while she went but the idea of sitting up for even a short amount of time without as much support as he had with the six pillows behind him was just painful. He shifted, hissing out in pain as his body roared in the dull ache that he still had yet become accustomed to.  Sucking in air as he reached down, pulling the comforter over his head as he turned onto his side, staring at the dull, white walls.  He may as well have been in a hospital: the room was an old office converted into a guest bedroom that Lynn hadn’t really had a chance to redecorate yet so everything was white, white, white and the lamps seemed to be brighter than in any other area of the house.   It also smelled sterile.  He scrunched his nose in thought and in faint smell as he pictured Justin’s mom scrubbing the room up and down while he was in the hospital to rid it of any germs that could affect him when he did finally get to come back.  He hated that everyone was now turning into germophobes around him; afraid that he was going to catch something serious by a few simple dust bunnies. “Knock, knock.”

He didn’t bother to turn over, fearing the sudden movement would jar the ache even more.  “Nobody’s home.”

“You’ve got jokes, Chasez,” Lauren said softly, her voice light.  He heard bags being set down, her presence felt just beside the bed.  “Jokes for days.”

He nodded, eyes fluttering closed in exhaustion as he sighed deeply.  “You gonna stand there all day or are you gonna tell me what you got in those bags on Christmas Day?”

“You’d be surprised as to what was open and what wasn’t – though, with my sweet-talking, opened miraculously.”

“I don’t wanna know what you did …”

She chuckled.  “Look, you gonna keep putting up this banter or do you wanna know what I got you?”

He inhaled as he rolled onto his back, cringing slightly before opening his eyes fully and seeing her curious gaze.  “Still achy.”  He watched as she nodded, turning back around and heading for the bags, pulling out a smaller bag and placing it in the dip in the blanket on his legs.  “Argh, you couldn’t hand it to me?”

“No, ‘cause you have to at least sit up to see it.” “Lauren, c’mon now …”

“In order to feel better, you gotta start moving around, Jace,” she said sternly, reaching for his hand and tugging him upward slowly.  He hissed as his body moved quicker than he was used to, painfully waiting for her to prop his pillows up so he could lean.  “Okay?”

“As okay as it’s gonna get,” he murmured, yawning dramatically as she chuckled.  “So what is it?”

“Ah, see, that’s the beauty of what they call a present, Jace; you open it.”  She grinned, sitting down on the edge of the bed and watching as he rolled his eyes, scooting slightly so she could sit fully on the mattress.  “Don’t just stare at me like I grew two heads – open the damn thing!”

He grinned in spite of himself, reaching into the bag and pulling out a small jewelry box, pulling the dark blue ribbon off of it and opening it to see a black-roped bracelet with orange beading woven through, two metal beads with calligraphy etched into them.  “Lauren, what exactly is this?” She touched it gingerly with her hands, smiling warmly.  “It’s a Leukemia Awareness bracelet.  The orange symbolizes the Leukemia and the silver beads actually have two different meanings.”  She lifted it up, putting it on his bony wrist, tying it tight enough to stay on but not cause discomfort.  “This one,” she said softly, pointing to one and bringing it into his line of vision, “is the Chinese symbol for strength.  And this one,” she said softly, her finger touching it and putting enough pressure to turn it in circles against his skin, “is the Celtic symbol … for courage.”

He lifted his gaze, meeting her unreadable one.  “Thank you.”

She nodded, patting his hand gently as she got up and gestured behind her.  “I should probably go do some paperwork now and actually do my job.”

He nodded, leaning back into the pillows and smiling weakly at her.  “Thank you,” he said softly, gesturing to the bracelet that was laced through his fingers, “for everything.  Not just this.”

She smiled, opening up his bedroom door and stepping through.  “Anything for you, Chasez,” she called softly as she walked down the hall, “anything for you.”

He smiled to himself, eyes falling to the bracelet that he gripped in his hands.  Strength.  Sure, he’d have strength once he felt better.  Courage.  He scoffed.  What was there to be courageous about?  He was afraid of getting the chemo; afraid of the inevitable bone marrow transplant that was probably only little ways away once they found a donor; afraid of the treatments failing … he was also afraid of leaving the world without any impact.  Hell, who was he kidding?  He was afraid to leave the world, period. He sighed, slipping the bracelet on and watching as the faint glow of the lamp hit the beads just right, giving them a reflection against the wall.  By some weird coincidence, one that he brushed off as psychological, he already felt a difference in himself.  He wanted to get up and move around, get up and even sing if he could – but today, today was not the day to be doing such things. As proof, he began to cough roughly, his lungs aching as they rattled with every movement he made.  He could feel the fluid in his lungs, they loosened up from the days before, but it was still a long trip to wellness.

He buried his face into the pillow, squeezing his eyes shut.  Maybe he could be like Dorothy and wish himself back to a place where there was no sickness, no worried friends, no scared shitless friends; maybe he could wish himself years ago into a place he knew as home.
The stage.

He’d give it all up to spend more time on the stage, performing.  Actually, he’d give it all back if he could be on the stage with the four guys who understood him more than anyone else did; the four guys that have been by his side since the beginning and have yet to stop.

He’d give it all away to be back in LA, recording demos, goofing off with his group mates and getting random calls from home because he had “hermitized” himself in the recording studio and no one had heard from him in days.

The only thing he wouldn’t give up was the woman who had entered his life only months ago.  That would have to be something he’d have to get by with the big man upstairs; there was no way he was going home without her. His stomach dropped.  Not in nausea, not in a bout of homesickness, but in realization: he was falling for his homecare nurse.  He was falling for the one woman that they had already planned his wedding to.

He groaned, shaking his head into the soft fabric of the pillowcase.  “Go fucking figure.”




“Well, good morning, sunshine!  It’s surprising to see you up and at ‘em!  Surprising, but nice!”

He gave a small smile as he shuffled slowly into the kitchen, gripping the chair and easing himself up onto the kitchen stool of the breakfast nook.  “I figured it was time to face the day sooner or later.”

Lynn smiled, placing a mug of black coffee in front of him.  “… That is how you drink it, right?”

He nodded, giving her another small smile and putting it to his lips, inhaling it gently as to not disturb his stomach.  “God, I haven’t had coffee in weeks … I’ve missed it.”  He looked around the otherwise empty kitchen, save he and Lynn, eyebrow raised.  “Where’s Justin?  Actually, where is everybody?”

Lynn grinned, nodding down to the lower level of the home.  “Justin is actually downstairs showing Lauren the in-home studio that he just had to have that is no longer of use here and well, everyone else is either upstairs asleep or getting ready for the day.”

He nodded; taking another slow, short sip of his coffee as Lynn leaned over, studying his pale and gray-hued face.  “I … don’t like that look.”

She reached forward, placing a hand to his cheek in a comforting way only a mother could do.  “Joshua, you are a strong, strong man,” she said softly, her gentle Tennessee twang tugging at his heart strings, “you’ve done things and you’ve gone through so much that I am so proud to know that my son looks up to you.”

He frowned, gripping the mug as he let his eyes drop.  “You’d be glad knowing that the man your son looks up to has had thoughts of his death?”

She gripped his face, fingers curled at his ear as she pulled his head closer to her, she kissing his forehead tenderly.  “If you hadn’t, in circumstances like these, I would not consider you human, Josh; and you, are a remarkable human.  One remarkable human that I am damn proud to consider you one of my own.” Smiling once again, he set his coffee down as he heard the tinkering of the piano in the level below, his fingers itching.  “Think he’d mind if I went down?”

Lynn grinned.  “I think he’d mind if you didn’t.”  She held onto his elbow as he unsteadily got up, eyeing him wearily.  “Do you want me to help you down the stairs?”

He shook his head, grateful for her gesture but wanting to do it on his own.  “If you do hear a body going down the stairs, though, I think it’d be safe to assume it was mine.”

“JC –“

He grinned, walking slowly and shakily towards the stairs near the end of the room.  “There are rails, right?”

“Yes, but –“

“If I become too weak to support myself down the stairs, I’ll slide down, butt-first.”

Lynn chuckled, standing in the middle of the kitchen, wringing her hands.  “If you say so.”

“I got down the stairs to come here, didn’t I?”

She nodded, not wanting to make him seem like he was an invalid.  “Just be careful, all right?”

“Always.” 

His slow trek to the lower level studio was agonizingly slow to his already shaking body as he sank towards the bottom of the step, gathering his bearings and staring at the door in front of him that stood slightly ajar.  Only a few steps.  Five steps, if that. 

Five steps of hell.

Taking the final few steps, he paused as the door opened, Justin’s smiling face greeting him.  “Well, hello!”

JC chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief as he gestured around the room.  “Can’t stay away, can you?”

Justin grinned, crossing his arms at his chest and cocking his head to the side.  “I could ask you the same thing.” JC lifted up a shoulder, giving a small smile as Justin stepped away, letting his friend into the studio.  “Lauren asked me what my favorite memory of the studio was.”

He took a step in, seeing Lauren’s smiling face sitting on the couch a few feet away from the piano, sitting down on the couch next to her as he looked up at Justin.  “And?”

“I told her you’d know exactly what my favorite memory was.”

He sunk into the couch, putting his head to the back of it and inhaling slowly, closing his eyes and letting the memory’s scene play on the back of his eyelids.  “The first day we were able to get back into the studio after the judgment over us keeping our group’s name.  Stepping through the threshold and being able to look at it as we did that very day.”

He didn’t have to open his eyes to know that Justin was grinning.  He didn’t even have to think hard; the man had a lot of memories, but this was one memory that all five of them shared in a list of favorites. 

“That was one of the most amazing days in my life,” Justin stated as JC lifted his head and opened his eyes, settling them on the small piano as his heart ached to just touch the keys, “even if we did just sit around and get drunk and reminisce; it was a rite of passage after that.” He pushed himself up, ignoring the slow drop-off of Justin’s voice as he slowly paced himself towards the bench of the piano, sitting down backward and slowly sliding his way around towards the keys, touching the ivories gently.  As his fingers pressed, a small breath, almost out of relief, escaped his lips, a small smile forming on his face as the scattered notes filled his ears.  This, this was home. He froze when he felt Lauren’s presence next to him as she sat, arm against his as she watched his fingers.  “I feel like I’ve forgotten everything.”

“You never forget your first love,” she said softly, her fingers reaching up and dancing along the keys, doing a slightly choppy version of “Chopsticks”.  Her fingers touched his, his eyes meeting hers as she gave him a sad look.  “Play for me?”

He inhaled a breath, looking at Justin for reassurance as the younger man pulled up a chair, sitting facing him only a foot away.  Slowly, he pressed his fingers to the keys and played a melody from long ago, surprised that he could still remember the music. He played, letting Justin sing the words that he had sung years ago, closing his eyes and listening to the music, pushing his tired mind to remember the words.  Moments in, it felt like he had just played it and all the notes (give or take a few) began to play themselves with the aid of his hands.   And within moments, it was his verse. Through the days ahead
I’ll think of days before
When you made me
Hope for something better
And made me reach for something more Of course, his voice was not up to par after not using it for so long and Lord knew how tired he was just by singing that little bit of a verse, but he couldn’t help but grin – really grin; this was the feeling of euphoria people talk about when something they’ve wanted for so long is given to them.  Only this time, he gave it back to himself.   “Justin?”

JC quieted the keys, hands shaky as they rested gently against them, eyes falling to his fingers as Justin got up to speak to his mother at the top of the steps.  He and Lauren sat there, quiet, her hands resting on her lap, his still barely grazing the keys as he continued to play, albeit quietly.  He stopped, feeling her presence greatly in those few quiet moments, her arm leaning into his (or more so, his leaning into hers), leg against his.  “You didn’t have to get me anything, you know.”

She chuckled slightly, nudging him gently.  “Don’t flatter yourself, Jace; I got Justin and his family something, too.”

“Oh.”

She placed a hand on his, pausing his fingers.  “The ones they got weren’t as meaningful as yours, though.”

With a smile, he pressed the keys a little harder.  “Oh.”  He played a few more keys, her hand still resting on his, his eyes transfixed to the delicate skin against his own clammy ones.  “I’ve gotta get you something.”

She laced her fingers into his, squeezing gently.  “Nonsense.  Seeing you up and around is good enough.  Hearing you sing can be my gift.  I’m sure it’s a pretty fragile gift right now.”

He tightened his grip on her hand, she looking at him questioningly.  “Thank you,” he said softly, “for everything.  I know Justin said he can do it alone and I don’t doubt him but I know it’s put his mind at ease and mine, too.  Thanks for being here and not saying anything to anybody about my condition.”

“That’s not who I am,” she said softly, tightening her grip on his hand.  “I think you’d know that by now.”

“I do,” he said softly, nodding as she leaned into him, placing a kiss to his cheek.  “You’ve got me through a lot of rough spots.”

She nodded, turning her attention to his face, studying his gaze.  “We’ve got a long journey, but I’m not backing out of this; I’m not leaving until I know you’re free of this disease.”

He swallowed, eyes falling back to their linked hands.  “I’d like for you to stick around long after that, too.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Hey, Jace?  The guys are here – they brought a whole shitload of gifts.”  Justin stepped through the studio door, Lauren sliding her hand out of his grasp as she got up, helping him stand by his elbow.  “Lauren, can you go help my mom for a minute?  I’ll make sure his string bean ass doesn’t fall down the stairs.”

She nodded, squeezing his elbow gently before stepping away, slowly disappearing out of his sight as he sighed, looking over at Justin.  “What?”

“I totally just cock-blocked you, didn’t I?”  Justin grinned, helping JC maneuver himself away from the piano bench.  “Sorry if I did …”

JC scoffed.  “I’m four months into battling Leukemia, J; I think the AML is my cock-block.”

“Well, with three more guys in the house; be prepared for a lot of cock-blocking.”

JC laughed, gripping the doorknob as he felt the floor slip slightly beneath him.  “Whoa …”

Justin grabbed him around the waist as his friend teetered, gripping the doorframe after the doorknob failed to give him leverage.  “Are you all right?”

JC nodded.  “I think I let myself do too much too fast.”

“Well, from now until lunch, I don’t want you leaving the couch, all right?”

“You’re saying it as if I’m grounded.”

“No, you’re couched; grounded would be if your ass would be falling to the ground … which is something I’m trying to avoid.”

“Justin –“

Justin paused from holding onto JC as he settled himself back onto his two feet, looking at the older man as he suddenly looked another ten years older than he had been.  “Yeah, C?”

“Thank you … for everything.”

“You say that as if it’s gonna be the last time you’ll be able to tell me,” Justin said, raising an eyebrow as he swallowed roughly, “c’mon now, no more of that.  You know there’s no one else’s vomiting ass I’d take care of, so take that into consideration.” “Aye, aye, Timberlake.”

“Salute me and I’m putting my foot up your ass.”

JC chuckled, letting Justin hold onto the small of his back at the t-shirt he wore as they climbed the stairs slowly.  He was going to enjoy today; something told him it’d be the last one he’d enjoy for a while.