Justin frowned as he listened to the sounds of his friend dry heaving into the pail that had been sitting by his bed once more, Lauren sitting beside him and running a comforting hand across his back as JC gasped for air in a sick panic; breath held too long from retching. Dr. Kleinfield had not been lying when he said the treatments would hit him like a ton of bricks: he had been on the treatment only four days and he already seemed like he was battling the worst flu possible.
With an exhausted sigh, JC leaned backward slowly, almost collapsing into the pillow as Lauren wiped his face and held up the cup of water for him to sip and gargle his mouth with. He was pale, clammy and constantly cold; Dr. Kleinfield allowed him the two extra blankets and a zip-up sweatshirt so that access to his port was still capable and he was retaining body heat.
So far, the infection that the doctor had been suspecting had kept at bay – the only side effects JC was dealing with was with the intravenous medications going in his port and out of his mouth via-heave. As disgusting as it was, Justin knew it was doing its job and he was grateful.
“Hey, hand me that other cup with the ice, will you?”
Justin turned his head, looking at Lauren as she ran a hand across his forehead, speaking soothingly to him. After she was handed the ice, she poured some of the cool liquid that had melted from the remaining cubes into a paper towel, pressing it to his hot and sweaty forehead. While it seemed he could not stay warm, his head would not cool down.
He played with the binding of the book he held in his hand, fingers tracing the letters as he tried to keep his mind occupied in the moment. He had to admit: he was glad he wasn’t alone anymore with helping JC. Though he knew he could do it on his own and he did for a little while, it was nice to know Lauren wasn’t running off anytime soon. From the looks of it, she wasn’t going to be going anywhere, at all. Like Lance said, she was JC’s future wife.
Justin grinned, shaking his head as he burrowed himself into the collar of his sweatshirt, eyes only visible. Lauren was now back in her chair, reading a Cosmopolitan magazine as JC slowly dozed off, exhausted and spent from the drugs and being sick.
He pushed his head back out of the collar, picking up his cell phone and looking at Lauren. “I’ll be right back, okay?”
She glanced up at him and then back at JC, nodding. “I’ll be here.”
He smiled. “I know.” Without waiting for a response, he tucked his phone into his sweatshirt pocket, walking down the hall towards the exit by the specified smoking areas. Turning his phone on, he waiting for it to load as he leaned up against the wall and inhaled the brisk January air.
It had been snowing all day; the weatherman saying to expect about 4-5 inches by late night. Luckily, they were in the city so the roads were pretty clear and he wasn’t going to be stuck in his parents’ home which was in the middle of nowhere with blocked off roads and no way in hell he would be able to get JC from their front door to the car without either man falling into the snow and catching pneumonia (again).
His phone alerted him of a message (okay, with another five alerts, make that six messages), he looking down at his screen and watching as various names popped up on the screen. Lance. Joey. Mom. Mrs. Chasez. Chris. Tyler.
Is he all right?
How’s he doing?
What’s going on with his chemo?
Justin, how’s my son? I haven’t really heard much since the new treatments started …
He hanging in there?
What’s going on with JC? And then there were the seven voicemails. All from the same people but an added one from his manager, demanding to know where he was now.
He cringed. Yeah, he forgot about that little detail of telling his manager about them not going back to JC’s apartment. Deciding now was as good of a time as ever, he scanned through the numbers, selecting his name and number and put it on speaker, too tired to hold it to his ear and too far behind with everything else that he knew he had to not push a lot of his life back any more than he already had. After a few rings, the phone connected, silence heard on the other side of the line. Just when he thought maybe the phone disconnected, he was greeted.
“Timberlake, there better be a logical explanation as to why you have not even texted me to let me know you’re alive.”
“Mike, you know I’ve got higher priorities right now,” Justin sighed, staring down at the timer on his phone as it slowly ticked the seconds away. “I would rather have this all settled and taken care of than lose a friend over something like this; I’d rather miss a few parties and performances than miss out on what could be the last days of his life –“
“What? JC isn’t dying, is he?!”
Justin frowned. Little by little, though not physically, JC was dying. Each day he saw a bit of the light leave his eyes and the banter slowly roll to a stop. He still had his sarcastic bits every once in a while but you could tell he was just too tired to even respond too much of anything lately. The last few days had been quite exhausting for Justin himself; he could not even imagine how JC felt at that very moment.
“Justin?”
He snapped from his thoughts, blinking to clear his mind and focus on the phone in his hand. “No, he’s just … really sick right now,” he said, choosing his words carefully. “They changed his meds and his body is trying to fight against them. He’s gonna be fine though. He’ll be fine.”
“Justin … “ Mike’s voice trailed off as he struggled to find words – trying to stay professional but reach out to the younger man who had already dealt with much more than he himself could even imagine at such a young age, let alone the fifteen years he had on him. “Get back to your friend, all right? Whatever the issues are with publicity and media … I’ll take care of it; I’ll think of something.” “Thank you.”
“I don’t know how long I can hold off on you not making at least an appearance or two, though, Justin; you know I have to do my job in order to get paid …”
“Once he’s home, I promise I’ll fly out and do some appearances,” he said, looking up at the sky and watching the darker clouds move in. It was getting late. “But I can’t stay long; I promised him I’d be around.”
“Justin, I think he understands that you have a life outside of his own.”
“For the last seventeen years, he has been a part of my life,” Justin stated, enunciating “life”, “and if no one can understand that –“
“I’m sure they do and I’m sure they’re all gonna love you after this, but –“
“I’m not looking for public interest with my friendship with JC,” he pressed, “what I’m looking for is one of my best friends to get healthy again and go into remission so he can do what I’ve been doing so successfully the last few years because you know why? He has to. He’s going to get better and we’re both going to go into the studio. We’re going into the studio and so is Lance, Chris and Joey. We’re going to do something we hadn’t thought was possible and we’re going to blow everybody away. So yes, maybe some of it is for public interest but it’s also for JC. This is something that has needed to happen for about seven years now. They let me go on my own and it’s about damn time I return to the place that has always supported me as I am supporting one of them now.”
He knew half of what he said was probably mumbled and incoherent and to be honest, probably made no sense to Mike. To him, it made all the sense in the world and he wasn’t going to go out and enjoy his life in the spotlight and know that in the back of his mind, he was thinking about his friend who was pretty much bed-ridden. It just wasn’t going to happen. His conscience would not let him, nor would his heart.
Or Lauren, for that matter. He sighed. “Look, I have to go. It’s freezing out here and I’m pretty sure my fingertips are frozen to the phone. I will call, e-mail or text you soon and let you know what’s going on. Until then, no mention of my name to the press, no mention of his. He hates seeing his story on television and to be honest, it’s kind of depressing hearing them all jump to different conclusions about his state. If you have to make a statement involving him or I, just say that I’ve been sticking around to make sure he is comfortable and he is as best as he can be, given his condition. By no means is he terminal and by no means is he going to die, capiche?”
Mike sighed. “Capiche, Timberlake. But I swear, if I see you out and about without my knowledge, I’m going to personally murder you.”
He disconnected the phone without a goodbye, not wanting to be outside any longer. He didn’t really care though; it wasn’t like he and Mike were friends – they were civil and professional but at times like this, he couldn’t help but not be professional. Actually, he wanted to throw himself on the ground and throw a tantrum because life wasn’t panning out the way he wanted it. Up until three or so months ago, he may have been sitting on a golden throne but right now, he might have been knocking on the gates of Hell for all he knew for all the swearing at God and questioning such in his mind.
It felt like he went through one extreme to the next as he opened the door to the main corridor: inhaling cold air was like inhaling menthol; inhaling the air in the hospital was like holding a bottle of bleach right under his nose. Both burned and both he could envision living without in the future. “Hey,” Lauren smiled, greeting him quietly, “you were gone for a while.”
He nodded, powering down his phone and setting it on the stand next to JC’s own cell phone that had not moved since the medications had begun. Sitting down on the chair and reclining the best he could, he rested his legs on the foot of JC’s bed near the bed frame, glancing up at the television that was playing ESPN on mute. “How long has he been out?”
“For the better part of you being gone,” she said softly, setting her magazine down and looking at him, “they gave him some aides to sleep better so he should be out for the night.”
Justin nodded. “How long do you think he’s gonna be like this?”
“Another few days,” she said softly. “Until the medication slowly calms down on his body and gives him some downtime, he’s going to feel pretty horrible. I imagine it will be like this the first few go-rounds of treatment but he’ll eventually feel a bit better each time.”
He looked at JC and then back at Lauren, frowning. “My manager is pressing me to go back out to LA.”
She looked at him with understanding, giving a slight nod. “Which I can relate to; it’s your job – you can only take so much time away.”
“Yeah, but the thing is, I can take all the time away I need and still have more money than I know what to do with. I can quit and still be set for life. I don’t need to do anything!”
“But you’re itching to do it, aren’t you?”
“ … no.”
“Justin, I see it in JC’s eyes when he’s watching that show on MTV: he’s itching to be back on there judging just as much as you are itching to be back doing what you were made to do. What you were both made to do. It’s human nature; there’s nothing to feel sorry about.”
“I can’t leave him after I promised I’d stick around.”
“You aren’t leaving him like a relationship – you’re going to work, Justin. You’re going to make a living and it’s not like you won’t come back.”
“I don’t know, I –“
“Justin, stop trying to make excuses. Go, already.”
He sighed, looking over at JC and nodding. “I know I need to but I promised him I’d stick around –“
“You’ve stuck around for three months. I don’t know any friend who would do that to someone that is a friend.”
“He’s my brother,” Justin frowned, “you do anything for family.”
“And I’m pretty sure he’d kill you if you didn’t go.” “But what if something happens?”
Lauren leaned back into her chair, nearly mirroring Justin’s position as she closed her eyes, listening to JC’s soft breathing and Justin’s finger tapping on the armrests. “I think that if something happens, you’d be on the next plane here and it’ll be just as it is supposed to be. Nothing is going to go wrong in the little time you are gone, Justin. What could it be, a week, two weeks?”
He shrugged. “The way he was talking, it could be a month, maybe six weeks.”
“Really,” she said, watching as he nodded, “that long?”
“Yeah. Media appearances, press promotional gigs, interviews … I’m sure he’s going to have something every day for me to do.”
“You do what you have to do,” she said, sitting up and studying his face, “Justin, you’ve been there for JC when no one else has and I’m sure he will forever feel gratitude and indebted to you. I also think he’ll feel horrible if you don’t at least have part of your life back now when it’s being put in front of you. Go. It’s not like he’ll be alone.”
“I don’t know, I –“
“Justin, seriously? I’m going to pack you myself and ship you to wherever you need to be. Talk to him when he wakes up … I’m pretty sure he’d agree with me.”
He nodded. “I guess I can see what he says.”
“You’re 29, Justin – not 9. You can make decisions without thinking of others.”
He sighed. “I know that. I just feel like if I make the wrong decision, it’s going to bite me in the ass somehow.”
“I’m sure you’ll make the right one.” He sighed, letting the conversation end as he looked up to the television, watching clips of the memorials that fans had made for Rich Cronin. It was sad to see someone so young end up losing their battle with such a vicious disease; it sucked to look over and see someone just as young battling it, too and he couldn’t help him at all.
Glancing back at his sleeping form and Lauren’s slowly nodding off one, he frowned. He knew what he had to do, but deep down in the pit of his stomach, it wasn’t going to end well.
Author's Chapter Notes:
Hello, my babies! Long time no see! After many, many, mannnnny weeks of not updating, well, anything ... and many, many pokes and messages via-twitter to update at least SOMETHING, I felt I had to dust off the stories and update them. I can't guarantee regular, weekly updates but I'm going to try and update as often as I can! Feel free to bother me on twitter about it if I start to slack ") (twitter.com/bobbilynn.nf).
And please excuse all typos or grammatical errors. Very little sleep waiting for updates on my best friend popping out her (handsome!) baby boy has me pretty deprived of precious sleep ;)
Love you allllll!
And please excuse all typos or grammatical errors. Very little sleep waiting for updates on my best friend popping out her (handsome!) baby boy has me pretty deprived of precious sleep ;)
Love you allllll!
Story Tags: brotherlylove jc justin tearjerker
