"Jace, take a deep breath, man." Justin eyed the pale skin of his friend, the slight peach complexion that had covered his skin normally melting away as the elevator crawled up towards the Oncology Unit. "It's gonna be all right, you know that."
His reponse was low and murmured, licking his lips nervously as he watched the numbers change all too quickly for him. "You say that 'cause it's not you having to be jabbed with a needle bigger than Godzilla and have it sit in your skin for three hours."
He couldn't help but smile at his unease, shaking his head. "The more things change, the more things stay the same."
"Okay, so if you wanna be the one with the chemo, by all means, you may take my place."
"It's gonna be all right, Jace," he said softly, watching as the color washed away completely when the doors opened. He immediately took the scent of bleach and sterility in through his nose, wincing slightly. He had always hated this wing. "C'mon," he said softly, reaching over and tugging at the older man's elbow to bring him out of his panic. "You'll be fine."
"That's what they all say," he mumbled, "you're not the one who feels like he's ten again dealing with the flu shot."
"This isn't a flu shot, JC."
"No," he agreed, "it's worse."
He led him down the hall to the nurse's station, sighing deeply. They had just been to the doctor's for a follow-up to see how the medicine was working (sick, sick and more sick; tired, too), how he was feeling (again, sick, sick and more sick; pretty sure delirium would have kicked in if it had not of been for the Ambien) and if he had experienced any pain or hair loss (no and no, thankfully).
Then, of course, the doctor noticed the bruising that was beginning to form on his lower back, spread clear across his left hip. That made him push for JC to go directly to chemo that day without passing go, collecting the cash and having time to enjoy it; it was time to kick the treatments into high-gear if he expected any improvements. The disease seemed to get worse, he pressing tenderly to skin and pain etching into his skin as he bit his cheek.
"I would honestly suggest you hire a private nurse to come in a few times a week, Mr. Timberlake," Dr. Kleinfield said softly as he and Justin both left the room to let JC dress, "it's going to be bumpy from here on out. He'll begin to lose his hair, lose touch of reality because of the pain that is inevitable and he's going to become pretty depressed. The medications will make him gain a lot of weight, especially for his size and he's going to become very irritable. It might embarass him to have you around to witness it."
"Embarassment or not, Dr. Kleinfield, I'm here for the long-run," he stated, "if push comes to shove, I will hire a nurse but right now I need to make sure he keeps his pride. Even if it's just for a little while longer."
"His life is more important than his pride," he responded, turning his head as they both heard JC get back up onto the table, the paper crunching underneath his body, "he'll get over it."
"If you just come down this way, we have your area set up for you, Mr. Chasez."
Justin's eyes traveled to the back of JC's head, watching as he stiffened when the chair and IV bag appeared in his line of vision. Putting a hand forward and pressing up against his rod-straight back, he gently pushed him towards the chair. "Piece of cake, Jace; it'll be a piece of cake."
"Again, do you want the needle?"
"I think you've forgotten how many tattoos and how many labor hours have been put into the ink I have, man."
"I'll trade you."He smiled, taking a seat next to his friend, in direct view of the IV drip and the nurse who was cleaning the area of JC's skin where the needle would be inserted. "Maybe you wouldn't feel so sick if you'd stop watching her like a hawk."
"I need to know what she's doing."
"You already know, Jace," he chuckled, "just talk to me, ignore the pretty lady next to you and tell me something."
JC slowly dragged his eyes away from the woman holding the needle and met Justin's curious gaze. With a low, spiteful tone, he replied, "I hate AML."
"I hate it too," he agreed, wincing as he saw the woman insert the needle, JC's body stiffening as his eyes fluttered. "You okay?"
"I hate needles."
Justin brought his gaze down to his friend's arm, watching as the woman taped the needle injecting the medication to his skin to keep it in place. "You know," he said softly, bringing his gaze back up to him, "I hate them, too."
JC exhaled, shaking his head trying to rid himself of the uneasiness of the needle, the length that it'd be sticking into his skin and the reason why it was there. "This three hour thing is gonna kill me."
"Nah, I think old age will beat the time to it."
"If I even live to see thirty-four," he mumbled. "It's a wonder I don't attempt to hang myself or something."
"Oh shut up," Justin snapped, shaking his head, "You'll make it to ninety-four if you fight hard enough and stop thinking so pessimistically."
"Kind of hard when the doctor is telling you to prepare for the worst."
"But you hope for the best and know that a lot of faith goes a long way."
"Well, you hold on to that faith because right now, I have none."
"Jace -"
"Justin, just drop it. Please?"
Justin swallowed, seeing the distress in his friend's face as he nodded. "Well," he cleared his throat, "we gotta keep ourselves occupied somehow. You wanna play questions?"
"J, this isn't the dressing room at Disney and I'm not eighteen-years-old anymore."
"So? It kept us amused for a while."
He sighed. "Fine. You start since it was your damn idea."
Justin laughed. "Fine, cranky. Boxers or briefs?"
"I hate you."
With a cackle, Justin lifted his hands, shaking them side to side at his jab at their earlier interviews in Europe. "Best thing to happen to you in your life."
"Mom and dad taking me in."
"Really?"
"Yeah, well, besides being in the group. That was pretty much the best decision anyone has ever made for me. If they hadn't, I wouldn't be here right now. Well, I would be, but I highly doubt you would since I don't think my real mom could have afforded to fly me down to Orlando to even try out for the Mickey Mouse Club. Ten to one, I'd be some struggling architect sitting in here alone."
"You'd never be alone," he stated, JC shaking his head. "Okay, since we're going deep, here's another one: what life would you love to have that would surprise most people? Including me?"
JC laughed, leaning his head back against the chair, "you're gonna laugh."
"Try me."
"Well, I never really thought about it until now but I'd like to have kids someday."
Justin's eyebrows rose at the words that fell from his friend's mouth. "You? You want kids?"
He shrugged, lifting his head and looking at him with a smirk. "I mean, don't shit a brick or something but yeah, I think ... if this doesn't make me unable to, I'd like to have one or two. I'd like to get married, but not now ..."
"That really is something no one knows."
He scoffed, "you know."
"Well, now I do."
"Don't make such a big deal out of it, it's just a fleeting thought. I mean, I never really saw myself as someone who could raise a child being that I don't know who my father is and what kind of man he was. No, I take that back, I know what kind of man he was and I really would like to raise my children knowing that it wasn't him who made me a great father, it was Roy, my dad. I just ... when all is said and done, I wanna be able to come home and hear someone call me 'daddy'. I want that little girl like Joey had; I want that undying love and irreplaceable feeling you get when you meet your child. I want to see he or she grow up. I want -"
"Jace," Justin said softly, bringing the man's attention back to him, "why did you call me?"
JC swallowed, looking anywhere but at his friend as he shrugged. "Because. Because I knew that of all the people I knew, you'd be the only one who understood, even if you had no idea what I was going through. I knew you wouldn't question me and press me to call other people and let them know I'm all right, even if I felt as if I'm not. I'm alive, so I guess I'm all right; I just needed someone who was gonna be there without pressure. Because, well, once upon a time, I could rely on you for everything and I still think I can."
"You can."
He nodded, dropping his gaze to his hands folded in his lap. "And because I felt that if I didn't call you then, I would never call you because I'm too stubborn. I needed someone and you were the first person I thought to call."
"Regardless of where we stood, I would have came. You know I would have."
"Why?"
He raised an eyebrow. "Why, what?"
"Why would you have come regardless?"
"Because you're family. You don't turn your back on family, especially when they really need you. I heard your voice, I heard how sad you sounded; I knew I had to be there, regardless for what it was for."
"Oh."
Justin smirked. "Yeah, oh."
They grew quiet, the faint sounds of the television above them removing the silence from the room just enough that they didn't feel necessary to say something.
"Online gossip blogs are going crazy over the news that popstar Justin Timberlake withdrew on late notice half-way through the taping of his newest role in the Indie thriller, 'Reaperman' sometime early last week. While some reports are stating that it was a lapse in judgement on the star's behalf, others are stating that his leaving the role and being seen departing LAX late that night would indicate trouble on the homefront. There has been no speculation, however, that the popstar had departed in order to go to his missing in action former groupmate, JC Chasez after the two had a falling out more than a year ago and have been out of touch since ..."
JC reached for the remote sitting on the tray next to his IV, clicking off the television and looking at his friend in curiosity. "You didn't tell me you were in the middle of filming. You didn't have to come."
"Yes, I did."
"Justin, I could have found someone else - I could have waited."
"You were more important."
"Justin -"
"You were more important than some movie. Some movie I could give a rats ass in finishing, anyway. Let them find someone else to play the part. It was a stupid role, anyway."
"Justin."
"JC, just drop it, all right? I chose what was more important to me. I wouldn't have chosen otherwise."
Justin, seriously -"
"What? I already told you -"
"Thank you."
He breathed a sigh of relief, nodding. "I'm gonna be needing a lot of thanks after breaking contract and having to pay them for barely even getting into my role."
JC grinned. "This isn't so bad."
"I told you it wouldn't be."
"Well, I say that now. Give me a few more weeks of this and we'll see how I feel about it."
Justin smirked. "Hey, you remember that time that Joey fell through the trap door and split open his knee?"
The paling of JC's skin gave him the answer as he groaned. "God, don't remind me. I had nightmares from all that blood."
"Or what about that time in Europe when we had to bake cookies for some show? I was Cookie Man and you were my sidekick -"
"Sprinkles."
Justin grinned. "And the airport fiasco?"
"Which time? There were a few."
"Well, the one I'm thinking about is 'Pixie Gate 1996'."
Laughing, JC leaned back and grinned. "I have never seen someone shake from having too much sugar until Lance. Chris and Joey were no excuse since they were constantly on some sort of sugar rush back in the day but Lance looked as if someone injected the caffeine directly into his blood stream."
"I think his mom hated us for the better part of that month when he wouldn't sleep and ended up crashing in the middle of an interview."
"Or how about you almost falling off the stage when we had the traveling one?"
Justin groaned, shaking his head. "All right, enough memories. Let's not bring that one up again."
"It feels like so long ago," JC chuckled. "I was just in my mid-twenties when the group split up. I feel like I was a baby back then."
"You? I was just starting to drink ... legally!"
"How is your music going, anyway?"
Justin shrugged, playing with his fingers as he delayed his response. To be completely honest, it was going amazingly; he had found success by himself, earned himself six Grammy's and every endeavor he had gone after since had played out well for him. Almost a little too well. He felt as if he were doing something wrong; the entire time he was in the group, he always spoke highly of the other man who traded lead with him, the vocal talents of the latter blowing nearly everyone away in the music industry. He came out with an album, it was a slight moderate and commercial success, but he deserved better. Everyone knew that, even if JC just shrugged it off and continued on to find something that would get him success.
He deserved it.
"Justin?"
He shook from his thoughts, looking back over at his friend. "It was on hold until the movie ended, but now it's just on hold until I feel like going back to it."
"You should start again. You've been doing well with your albums and I'm sure the fans would love to see another album come out."
"I uh, I was actually thinking of something else," he replied, JC's eyebrows knitting in confusion. "I kind of thought about it and I know it's been something that has been pinned on me because I'm stubborn and an asshole sometimes but I think I'd really like to finish the album we started before going on the indefinite hiatus. Even if it's just to finish it. I kind of miss being in the studio with everyone."
"You're gonna have to do it without me," JC said softly, shaking his head sadly. "I'm in no condition to be up and running around like before and -"
"The group doesn't consist of four people, Jace," Justin frowned, "it's me, Joey, Lance, Chris and you. Who else is going to keep Chris and I in check? You know it's gonna be a round-robin like it usually was and Lance will be discouraged if he can't get the note ... you were always the one to make him feel all right about it. And Joey ... well, Joey just has ADD."
JC laughed. "Justin, I can't. As much as I wanted to before and as much as it'd be fun to do again, I can't bring myself to go into that studio. Not if I can't do it after a while."
"I'm not saying we do it now; I'm saying we do it when you get better and have beaten it."
"I can't."
"Why?"
"Because," he said softly, "if I give myself something to look forward to and I don't make it, it's gonna make dying really sucky."
"See, looking forward to being *NSYNC again should make you want to live," he grinned. "And stop with the dying talk, we already decided you weren't gonna die from this."
"No, probably just smelling Joey's ass all day in the studio."
"Can you seriously stop with the death talk, though? I'd like to think of this as another Lou Pearlman; we got dragged through hell and high water and got mentally sick and physically exhausted but we made it. We'll eventually beat him. Just like you will."
JC sighed, closing his eyes as he felt the exhaustion from talking and sitting there for what seemed to be forever take it's toll on him. "I hope so."
