He woke up the next (early) morning at about 2:30, unable to sleep.  It was useless; he'd be up in 45 minutes, anyway.  Instead of getting up as he intended, he lie there, staring at the ceiling.  If it had been back in the day, he'd still hear at least Joey and Justin up and talking, making noise of some sort; time seemed to steal that memory away and replace it was quietness and age.  Both men, he believed, were probably asleep - Justin the only one able to tolerate Joey's rumbling snores and Joey the only one able to ignore Justin's murmurs.  Chris and Lance, he pictured, were probably both passed out in the living room - Chris on the couch, Lance on the floor.  It was getting hard to believe that Chris would be 40 soon; an age that seemed so far away in the beginning.  Now, he thought, it was a lot closer than they realized it had been all along.

Back when he was younger (how it killed him to think that, now) he would kill for the silence; the momentary solace from the screams, the questions, the orders.  He remembered when he would lie in his bunk during tour and just stare at the wall and picture his life in another parallel universe.  Though he probably would have never met Justin, Joey, Chris or Lance, he sometimes craved the alone time that came few and far between.  Everything about his life was documented: when he ate, slept, drank, pissed - hell, even when he got sick.  A roll of the eyes out in public at Joey would call for a fanbased panic, thinking that the group was tearing apart because of a simple reaction to something he had said.  Everything he said had to be carefully planned out; he couldn't speak his mind as he wanted. 

In his parallel world, as crazy as it sounded to everyone but him, he was a free-spirit.  He could take living in a ranch-style home, maybe even just a studio apartment somewhere near home.  He'd be barefoot, singing at open bar nights, going home by himself or to a wife/girlfriend.  He wouldn't have to worry about who would judge, who would snap pictures of them simply walking in the parking lot of a doctor's office or a grocery store.  He could fight with the neighbors, drive without a care, eat whatever he wanted and not worry about management breathing down his back about gaining that extra two pounds.  It was sad that it happened to both genders in the industry.

But then, then he thought about regardless of how his life turned out, at this moment in time, everything would still be where he was at.  The only difference would have been the lack of support from the four people that would cease to exist in his life if it had not worked out the way it had.  If it had not of been for those four people at different parts of his life, he wasn't sure he'd be as strong as he was.  Sure, he still had a lot of things to learn, he was still young(er) than most and found a couple successes along the way, but it didn't mean he wasn't human and didn't bleed or feel pain.

And this pain was for more brutal than he could ever imagine and would never wish on a single human being.

"Hey, Jace, you up?"

He turned his head slowly from staring at the ceiling, seeing Justin's groggy face surveying his friend.  "Yeah," he said softly, closing his eyes.  "What time is it?"

"3.  I figured you'd wanna head out early and get settled in."

"Yeah, 'cause you know I'm super excited about this."

"You know what I mean, C."

JC sighed as he pulled himself out of bed, nodding.  "I know.  Sorry.  Just got a lot on my mind."

Justin gave him a sympathetic smile.  "I'm gonna go take a quick shower and then I'll be ready.  You need anything?"

JC shook his head as he stood, closing his eyes and sighing deeply.  "Nah.  I'll get one of the other guys if I need anything."

Justin nodded, patting the doorway as he turned away from his friend.  In a hesitant pivot, he turned again, looking at him.  "JC?"

The older man paused from reaching for a clean t-shirt, raising his eyebrow in response.  "Yeah, Justin?"

"You're gonna get through this.  All of this."

He said nothing as Justin offered him a weak smile, turning back around and disappearing slightly down the hallway.  The bathroom lights flooded the still dark and quiet apartment, door shutting with a quiet click.  He frowned, hands dropping to his sides as he clenched the t-shirt in one of his hands.  "I hope so," he said softly, staring blankly at the doorway where Justin had once been.  "I sure as hell hope so."

"We're going to wheel him into prep and once the procedure is done, he'll be in recovery.  It's an outpatient procedure, so he should be home by early evening," the doctor stated as he stood and spoke to Justin, Roy and Karen.  Gonna be a little sore for a while; feel mild to moderate discomfort.  Best thing to do is keep him resting and give him mild pain killers.  If he should have some issues and it shows signs of infection, you need to bring him back immediately ..."

Justin sighed, unable to help his mind from traveling away from the monotone doctor speaking of the procedure his friend was about to undergo.  He was sitting on the edge of the bed, speaking to a pretty brunette nurse who was smiling and reading a clipboard as she chatted happily with him.  He grinned.  Even weak and sick, he could charm the pants off of any woman.

"He'll be fine to go after the procedure is done?"

The doctor nodded.  "As long as he shows no signs of difficulties coming out of sedation, he should be ready to go within two hours after."  He excused himself shortly after, walking into JC's room and speaking with him as he motioned for him to lie down, JC's face paling considerably as the anesthesiologist came in shortly after, curtain drawing closed as the three of them stood there, unsure of what to do next. 

"We should probably go to the waiting room," Roy said, clapping his hand on Justin's shoulder comfortingly.  "The other three are already there; pretty sure Lance is already passed out on the chair in there."

"I don't know why they insisted on coming," Justin sighed, "I told them it wouldn't be that major of a procedure."

"Same reason you are here, honey," Karen smiled, reaching over and running her hand soothingly over his arm.  "To make sure their friend is okay."

"I just feel like he's aged so much in the last weeks.  I wish I could ease his worry; it's driving me crazy that I can't help him."  Justin frowned, taking one last look at JC's area, following Roy and Karen into the waiting room where, sure enough, Lance was sleeping.  Chris was 'reading' a magazine (moreso, flipping the pages impatiently) and Joey was sitting with his arms between his legs, staring at the door that they came through.  "They're taking him in soon," Justin replied as two of the three looked at him expectantly.  "Should take less than an hour; he'll wake up, let him recover from the anesthesia and then he should be home before dinner."

"Good."

Roy and Karen both walked over to the coffee pot, both settling on the nearly mud thick drink.  "He's very lucky to have all of you, you know," Karen said as she sipped her coffee, making a face and tossing it into the trash.  "With Heather and Ty unable to make it here, I'm sure knowing that his four other brothers being here makes him feel a lot better."

"Regardless of our places in life, we'd be here for him," Chris responded, getting up and rummaging at the station that held all the coffee things.  He pulled a bag out of a holder, beginning to brew another pot.  "This may be a simple procedure, but this isn't just anybody, you know?  This ... this is JC.  One of the last people I'd ever, ever want to see go through this alone.  We'd go and visit those hospitals with all those sick kids and young adults and not once did I think that one of us would be in their shoes only years down the line.  It's just sad that it has to happen to everybody." 

Karen nodded, her eyes filled with tears as she leaned into Chris and half-hugged him, sniffling as the nurse that had been speaking to JC walked into the waiting room, greeting them all with a warm smile. 

"Hi," she smiled, looking at each and every one of them, "you guys belong to JC Chasez?"

"Yes," Roy said, stepping forward and extending his hand.  "You the nurse that he hired?"

She chuckled.  "Lauren.  I'll be his homecare nurse for 3-4 days a week.  Just wanted to introduce myself and check on you guys.  Regardless of how simple the procedure, it's always a hard thing to go through."

They all nodded, silent.  Lance slowly started to stir, bringing his attention to the five people talking to the unfamiliar face.  "He go in, yet?"

"Yeah," Joey nodded, watching as Lance rubbed his eyes tiredly, getting up and approaching them.  "Hi," he smiled, "Lance."

"Lauren," she smiled.  "I actually got the pleasure of meeting JC when he first came here.  He saw Dr. Kleinfield and I when he first came here from California.  His demeanor has changed a lot since I first saw him and I couldn't be happier.  It's a good thing with you guys being here, he really leans on you for support."

With a frown, Justin sat down, putting his head in his hands and he slowly began to count the time to himself, not wanting anymore to do with oncology and procedures and his best friend dying.  Dying!  With a sudden jerk, he was up, ignoring the startled eyes looking back at him.  "I need to get air."

He walked down the halls until he found the designated smoker's area, pushing the door open angrily as he stepped outside, leaning against the wall with his head against the jagged brick.  He hadn't let himself think as far as it had to the point where it actually had settled.  Of course, he had thought of it, he had the breakdown in the bathroom, but this was different.  Last time, it felt almost as if he had dreamt it; that JC was really healthy and leukemia-free and suddenly, while sitting there, reality barged through the door and gave him the rude reminder that no, your friend is sick and you can't do anything to help him because he may die. 

He swallowed roughly, willing the tears away.  How he wished he smoked at a moment like this.  Though he never understood how nicotene could calm him at a time like this, he suddenly wished it was 2002 and he was smoking pot like it was nothing.  That, that calmed him.

But that was eight years ago.

Eight years ago, when JC was healthy and he was taken advantage of by Justin in their friendship.

He hated himself.

He hated Leukemia.

He hated himself for even thinking that JC could die because he, along with most of the world (if they would know) would never, ever wish that, nor think that.  Regardless of if people liked the group, if they met JC, there was an instant connection because he put himself out there into that person's life because he could. 

He knew that at any given moment, Joey or Lance would be out to speak to him; Lance as the level-headed one or Joey as the comedic relief.  Chris was never good at comfort, he always snuck inside himself when dealing with grief and anger, though, he knew, at any moment, it may burst and they'd all witness it.

It was finally beginning to lighten up as the sun slowly peaked above the horizon.  It was a nice day for it being nearly December.  Thanksgiving was only a few days away, which signified that JC had been diagnosed for six weeks.  Six weeks of hell for him, about three to four for him.  He only spoke that way because it was hell to see his friend going through it.

"There you are."

He startled.  "Yeah.  Hey."

Chris closed the door, hugging his coat to him as he studied his youngest friend.  "What the hell are you doing out here, huh?  It has to be like, 20-something degrees out right now."

"I can't really feel much of anything right now," he said with a frown, staring straight ahead as the sun slowly climbed the sky.  "My mind has taken over pretty much every sense I have."

Chris gave him a weak smile, nudging him with his elbow.  "Look, C's gonna be fine, all right?  I know you've told him this numerous times and now it's your turn to believe the very thing that came out of that big mouth of yours."

Justin sighed deeply.  "I know, I just hate seeing him like this.  This isn't him, Chris; he's not that skinny and he's certainly not that skin tone and he always, always had hair.  This is just a shell of what our friend used to be.  I don't know how much longer I can take seeing him like that."

"Stop making it about you," Chris said, watching as Justin looked at him.  He had not meant it meanly and the younger man knew that ... he was still startled by his response.  "This is JC's battle and we're all here to make sure he makes it out alive, you understand?  I know for damn sure he didn't ask to look, to feel like that.  You and I both know that if he was given the choice of living life away from needles and IV's and ports, he'd be miles and miles away from here on some damn island while we all received a "Sayonara Sucker" letter and a "feel free to visit on the first of Never".  This isn't what he wants, this isn't what we want to see but we've gotta and he's gotta go through it.  Be there for him and let him go through it knowing you are there, that we all are.  Stop looking at the so-called shell of your best friend because regardless of what he looks like, that soul inside of him, is still JC.  He's still living, breathing, driving us all crazy with worry and could still put us all to sleep with stories. 

This is real life, Justin; not some story.  You can't just walk out on someone because he isn't what you want him to be at that moment.  Things come in life that aren't planned, aren't chosen; we've gotten to that point where we have to roll with the punches, suck it up and trudge on, even if we are too weak to do so; that's why we're here and that's why we're all gonna stay.  Not all at once, 'cause c'mon, we are all pretty hard to handle on any normal day; this isn't a normal day.  Once we know he's okay and settled, we'll go home, rest and be back.  Joey first, Lance and then me.  You're not gonna be the only one helping him, I promise that.  You need a break?  Fine.  Call us, we'll be there quicker than you can imagine.  We've got your back, just like you've had his the last month.  Let us have his back for a while, all right?  It's not gonna be a pretty rollercoaster ride, but we're all gonna get in line and ride that fucker until it's over and he's being the annoying, pain-in-the-ass that we know and love."

Justin nodded, smiling slightly.  "Chris, but what if it happens, huh?  What if that rollercoaster takes him and leaves us in the queue line, huh?"

"Hell if I let it happen," Chris scoffed, looking at the pained look in his friend's eyes.  His face immediately softened at the fright written on his face.  "Then," he said softly, licking his lips as he thought, "then the world just lost one of the greatest people I know."  He sighed deeply, not wanting to face that option.  "We get through it all together.  We act like mourners and cry, we tell stories, we bond over the shared friendship we had on him and pray to God in thankfulness that we had him for as long as we did.  Justin, I know the bond between the two of you is so much more compared to that of the other three of us, but we all care about him.  We're all rooting for him.  This isn't something we can just sit back and watch; we can mentally and physically support him as best as we can."

Justin nodded, the two of them leaning up against the wall in silence.  He glanced at his watch, sighing deeply.  It had been a half hour.  At least another forty-five minutes before he'd be out and another ten to fifteen before he was awake and aware enough to speak to them. 

"You remember that time when we were all making fun of him with the way he tried to use pick-up lines on chicks for that pre-show interview?"

Justin chuckled at the thought.  "Yeah, he was never that slick when it came to stuff like that."

"But he sure knew how to get them just by singing."

"Or smiling."

Chris laughed.  "God, you remember that time when he fell off the bus in front of all those fans?  I've never laughed so hard in my life.  Thought I pissed my pants on that one."

"Yeah, and that look he gave you after he recovered from the fall and picked up his pride was even more priceless.  I remember Joey literally rolling on the floor.  Lance of course, was the only one just gawking and trying to get the fans to look at him and not the fallen one."

"I'll never forget when he found out Bobbee was basically planning on trapping him.  That's the angriest I've ever seen that man get."

Justin frowned, remembering the redness that looked as if it had permanently placed itself in his face, furrowed his brow and clenched his jaw.  "I don't think I've ever seen him angry like that.  He never really did get angry.  Except for that time when you threw his shoes out the bus window."

Chris nodded.  "Yeah, he isn't the settling-type.  What made her think that trapping him was going to change his mind?"

Justin licked his lips as he remembered back to what his friend had admitted to him not too long ago.  "I think that's all changed with age," Justin noted, "and possibly this."

Chris pushed away from the wall, intrigued.  "Really now?"

"Yeah," Justin said, nodding.  "Said he'd like to have a kid or two someday.  Maybe a wife.  He wants to experience that.  And why not?  He's experienced everything else."

Chris nodded.  "He'd be a good father."

"Yeah."

Silence took over once more, Chris finally giving into the cold and zipping his coat up as he mentioned going back inside for the coffee he had brewed in the waiting room.  "You should probably come in, too; we don't want to be sitting in the hospital 'cause your dumb ass got pneumonia."

Justin smiled slightly.  "I'll be in in a little while."

"Suit yourself, frosty."

He heard the door close as he slid down the wall gently, not wanting to scrape up his back as he sat on his rear, hissing at the cold cement.  He was still a little surprised it was Chris that came out, smirking to himself as he picture Chris as a father, Lance as a father, himself as a father.  Joey was already a father, he knew how he was.  A damn good father.  Of course, they'd all have their strengths and weaknesses when it came to their children but seeing Chris run around with a mini-him would be a sight for sore eyes."

"Hey!"

He startled, looking up at the now half-way open door.  "What's up, Joe?"

"He's awake.  Asking where the hell you are."

Justin chuckled.  "I'm comin'."

"God, you'd think he'd be a little more happier seeing that hot nurse at his bedside and checking his vitals and not asking where you were.  I swear to God, if I didn't know him better than I did -"

"He's drugged, Joe; he's probably just looking for the one thing that's been pretty permanent."

"His parents?"

"They were probably in there the moment he was wheeled in."

Joey chuckled.  "Yeah, they were.  So were we.  You weren't, that's why he asked."

"Well, then I guess I better get in there then, huh?"