-12-

UCLA Medical Center

Lance let out a sigh through his nose as he slowly became aware of everything around him. A familiar beep reached his ears and he squeezed his eyes shut, a low groan rumbled in his throat. He blinked his eyes open before shutting them against the harsh light.

Not again.

“I was thinking that myself, Mr. Bass.” Lance shifted his gaze over to Dr. Wilkins who slid his light pen into his pocket before grasping the railing on the side of his bed. Lance blinked in surprise before quickly realizing that he had voiced his thought instead of keeping it in his head. “I would say it nice to see you, but under these circumstances…

“Hmmm.” Lance let out a laugh-hum as his eyebrow twitched upwards. He moved to rub at his eyes, practically stabbing himself with the pulse oximeter on his index finger. He dropped his arms down onto the itchy blanket (feeling a lingering feebleness just from that movement alone) before lacing his fingers together on his stomach. “So what happened?”  He grasped a handful of his diamond patterned hospital gown and scratched at his chest.

“Same thing as last time, your heart couldn’t handle the…fight, was it?” Dr. Wilkins asked, his eyebrows shooting upwards. “Although, looking at the other guy, I can see that you and Miss Carr did more damage than what your heart did to you. This time.”

Dr. Wilkins scratched at the tip of his nose before he started tapping the bone in his thumb joint against the metal railing. “As you may know, you’ve fainted once again, due to your heart palpitations,” he explained. “Everything seems ok, your palpitations doesn’t seem to have occurred too often since the last time I saw you. I asked your friends—“

“What?” Lance asked. The beeping monitoring his heart instantly started to speed up.

“And they said that they haven’t noticed anything different,” Dr. Wilkins continued. He was silent for a moment before he said. “They wondered if they needed to know anything.”

“And you said…?” Lance prompted. Dr. Wilkins was silent for a while before he let out a sigh, his shoulders slumping just slightly.

“That the only thing they need to worry about is your tendency to finish fights with your fists,” he replied in the same tone as if he was trying to force an answer out of him. “And in essence, to watch your blood pressure. It goes hand in hand.”

“Thank you,” Lance said after a moment of silence.

“Doctor-patient confidentiality, Mr. Bass,” Dr. Wilkins replied, scratching the side of his head. “They’re not an immediate member of your family so…”

“Thank you,” Lance repeated his timbre dropping into a soft tone.

“You’re welcome,” Dr. Wilkins replied with a nod of his head. He then moved to sit down on his chair in front of his computer before using his feet to wheel it over towards Lance’s bedside. “You haven’t been returning my calls so I must ask if you’ve thought anymore about this surgery and when you’d be scheduling one.” Lance pressed his lips together and Dr. Wilkins’ eyebrows lowered. “If you’ve even decided on getting one.”

“I just have to figure some things out,” Lance said, his voice cracking just slightly.

Dr. Wilkins bowed his head for a moment before looking back up at Lance. “I can’t force you to make a decision, but I must impress upon you how important it is for you to get this surgery,” he said to Lance, punctuating each word by hitting the side of his hands on the side of Lance’s bed. “The heart palpitations thus far have only been bad on two occasions but if we don’t get this fixed, it’s only going to get worse.”

“Do you have an idea as to how long…?” Lance asked.

“It’s hard to say,” Dr. Wilkins said with a shake of his head. “Maybe it could be a long while from now, maybe not. It’s something we have to monitor which is why it’s imperative that you accurately record each and every time this happens, whether or not you pass out. If you feel lightheaded, out of breath, dizzy and for how long. It all helps.”

“Yes, sir,” Lance replied with a nod of his head.

“Right, well, let me go bring your friends in,” Dr. Wilkins said as he got to his feet. “They’ve been waiting for a while.” He then paused in the doorway before turning back to Lance. “It’d help if you relaxed for a while. Don’t worry about work, don’t worry about any of that, just relax.”

Yeah, right. He knew how things for him worked out. It was damage control time. He was sure news of the fight was floating around the internet somewhere. While he knew Annaleigh was the type to step in and help him whenever he needed it, in any way she could provide, he was sure someone would twist the fact that she ended the fight in a bad way against him. To show that he was weak; that he had it coming.

This was the worst time to just sit and relax. Plus, even in *NSYNC everyone knew it was hard for him to be idle. Hell, he had to have a second cell phone with him at all times to field business calls. If Annaleigh wasn’t working with the band, he would’ve had to have hired a full time assistant instead of having Cindy work for him whenever things got too busy for the two of them. Between her and Annaleigh, things ran smoothly during the craziness that was the peak of *NSYNC’s fame.

Now he was stuck.

Lance settled his head back against his pillows, staring up at the ceiling. Without moving his head, he shifted his eyes downwards to the bandage wrapped around the knuckles on his right hand. He played with the string hanging off of the tape and gently pulled it, looping it around his finger. He watched as the blood filled in the tip of his finger, turning the skin a bright purple until he snapped the string. As he heard the door handle pump open, he scratched at the skin around the area of his IV.

“Hey, Lance,” Darren greeted his friend. Lance held out his hand and Darren slapped his palm into his friend’s. “How are you feeling?” He moved to stand next to the head of Lance’s bed, revealing Michael standing beside him.

Lance cringed, and made a face of embarrassment and annoyance when he heard his heart monitor speed up a second time when he spotted Michael standing closer to the door. “You…” Lance swallowed before trying to speak again. “You didn’t have to come.”

“I just wanted to make sure you were ok,” Michael replied, shifting his weight from foot to foot. He paused before taking a step closer, his hair falling over his face. He looked over at Lance through the floppy hair that fell over his face, shielding his eyes and Lance had the sudden urge to brush the hair away. “A-are you ok?”

“Yeah, what’d the doctor say?” Darren asked.

Lance pushed himself up into a seated position, settling back into his pillows. “I was dehydrated,” he replied, keeping his gaze down on his blankets. He gently pressed on the bandage covering his IV as the lie rolled off his tongue. “With the enclosed space and not eating that well…” He gave a shrug of his shoulders before lifting his head, letting out a small laugh. “Who knew cheat days could hurt you?”

A weak chuckle came forth from the three men in the room. “So how long are you going to be in here for?” Michael asked, wringing his hands together before sliding them into his pants pockets.

“A couple of days I guess,” Lance replied. He lifted his hand and ran his fingers through his hair. “Where’s Annaleigh? And Jazzy and Gabe?”

“Getting her hand checked out,” Darren replied. He started massaging his own wrist with his fingers. “Doctors think she might’ve sprained it, she hit that guy pretty hard.”

“She clocked him,” Michael added before he made a clicking sound with his tongue.

Lance felt a smile of pride come to his face. She hadn’t given the nickname “Tiger Lily” during the No Strings Attached Tour for nothing—she had a sweet disposition for the most part. She sure did stick to her southern routes, no one could deny that. You could be on her good side but one small mistake; talking badly about her friends, or even about her, and your head would be spinning the tongue lashing you’d be receiving. Coupling that with what she was no physically capable of? It was a dangerous combination bubbling inside her small body.

“Jazz and Gabe are stuck in traffic but on their way. Your mom and dad said they’re on their way out here,” Darren added. Lance bit back a ground, swallowing thickly. It was one thing for them to be worried about his sexuality and what that would bring to him, but now this? He had already gotten into one fight because of it, how would they take not only hearing about another one, but of his heart condition to boot?

Being of the medical profession, he wouldn’t be surprised if his dad figured it out first. That’s not to say his mom wouldn’t have any suspicions. Trying to keep a secret from her was pretty impossible once she gave you “the look.” Lance swore all moms had their own version of it, but the minute you saw it, whatever the hell you planned on keeping quiet would come flying out of your mouth faster than you could blink. His mother was very protective of her kids and could tell when even the slightest thing was off with him or Stacey.

“How’d they sound on the phone?” Lance asked.

“Worried,” Darren replied with a shrug of his shoulders. “Naturally.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Weren’t too happy to hear what caused the fight to begin with. But, you know your mom.”

“Yeah,” Lance agreed, nodding his head. “Look, you don’t have to worry about me.”

“Hey, we’ve always gotten in trouble together when we were kids, why stop now?” Darren asked with a grin.

Lance briefly closed his eyes, laughing along with his friend. His smile faded just slightly as he swallowed the saliva that collected in his mouth. He, Annaleigh, and even Jasmine, had been through a lot together and could overcome a lot of it, but this…he wasn’t sure what would happen to them. When it came down to it, this was one set of trouble he had to deal with himself.

The only thing that mattered now was getting everything settled for his friends and family. They had always come first to him. He would’ve come out a long time ago if he wasn’t so worried about how, not only his family would take it, but how his friends and his *NSYNC brothers would. And most importantly their fans. They had all worked too hard to go through something like that and he didn’t want to be cause for any sort of falling out.

“I’m goin' to go check on Ace and bring her in here,” Darren said, clapping his hands together. “She was practically chewin’ out every doctor that was in here, tryin’ to get answers from them.” He then pointed his finger over at Michael. “You want some coffee or anythin’?”

“Uh, no that’s ok,” Michael replied with a shake of his head. “Thanks, though. I’m not staying long.” Darren gave a nod of his head before making his way out of the room.

Lance shifted his gaze around the room. He reached up to adjust the collar of his hospital gown as it suddenly grew really tight and hot under the collar at Michael’s gaze. “Are you sure you’re ok?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Lance replied with a nod of his head. “I just can’t wait to get out of here already.”

“I’ll bet,” Michael agreed with a nod of his head. He, once again, shifted his weight from foot to foot. “I’m glad you’re ok. But, I’m sorry you even got into the fight.” He bowed his head and scratched the back of his neck. “If we hadn’t gone, you wouldn’t have gotten hurt.”

“Don’t blame yourself,” Lance said, lifting his hand into the air. “It was fun before all that.” He waved his hand in the air. “Actually, punching the guy was pretty fun, too.” Michael’s lips parted into a brief smile. “Thanks for the tickets. I had a good time.”

His eyes widened slightly. I had a good time. Those were date words. Words you said proceeding the awkward shuffling of the feet and wondering “Who’s going to lean in first?” Lance loudly cleared his throat, turning his face away to hide his embarrassment.

“Do you want some water?” Michael asked. Before Lance could say anything, he moved to find a cup to fill with water. Good thing, too as Lance’s throat suddenly became very dry.

“Ksss,” Lance managed to get out as Michael handed him a plastic cup filled with cool water. He took it as fast as he could, trying to ignore the shock that burned the tips of his fingers as they brushed against Michaels before he lifted the cup to his lips. He took a slow sip, allowing the water to slide into his mouth and fill his cheeks, puffing them up.

“I better get going,” Michael said after a moment of silence. “I’m glad you’re ok.” He then offered an easy going smile. “Maybe we can hang out again. Something less…crazy.”

“Like an art show?” The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop himself. He didn’t know if there were even any art shows being put on, but that was just about the only thing he knew about the guy. Apart from the sudden tidbit of information that he was a model. Not that that idea hadn’t come into his head at some point. Anyone with eyes could see that he was handsome enough to potentially work in that profession.

“I…yeah,” Michael said, his smile widening just slightly as he started taking a step back towards the door. “Sure, that sounds like fun.”

He walked backwards into the small waste basket sitting by the door, catching himself on the door handle. Lance felt a bubble of laughter rise up in his throat, but he quickly squashed it with a swallow as he lifted his hand in farewell. Michael gave one last smile before slipping out the door.

Before he could stop to think about what happened (as he was pretty sure he had unknowingly just asked him out on a date), the door opened again and Annaleigh walked through, a look of annoyance on her face, muttering to herself.

“Shoot, you think you’re tryin’ to break into Watergate or steal the Neil Diamond or something, tryin’ ta get answers out of these people,” she said as she made a beeline to his bedside.

“You mean the Hope Diamond,” Lance corrected her with a small roll of his eyes. “Neil Diamond is a person.”

“Same difference,” Annaleigh replied, waving her hand in the air. Lance pressed his lips together. He couldn’t blame her for her prickly disposition. Having been stuck in the hospital years prior not only going through a bout of dehydration and exhaustion herself, but later on with a ruptured appendix would make anyone go stir crazy. “Dehydration, huh? I shoulda noticed.”

“Don’t beat yourself up over it,” Lance said, waving his hand in the air. “We were all having a good time; I didn’t want to slow anybody down.” He had always been that way. Whether it was making his way, slowly, through dance moves or when he and Joey were working on other projects while waiting to work on *NSYNCs next album after Celebrity, he never wanted to be the one person who was holding things back.

“So, what’s the diagnosis?” he asked, nodding his head towards Annaleigh’s bandaged wrist and hand.

“Sprained,” she replied, lifting her left hand. “Luckily it wasn’t my other hand or Justin and JC would have to look for another bass player.” She then stepped closer to him and leaned over his bedside and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “You sacred me, James. I’m glad you’re ok.”

“Sorry,” Lance said before taking her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"I'm proud of you, you know, “Annaleigh said as she moved to a kneeling position beside his bed. She rest her arms on the cool railing, settling her chin on the back of her hands. “For how you handled yourself back there.” She gave a toothy smile. “Despite the fact that you needed a girl ta help ya.”

“I’m man enough to admit it,” Lance said with a shrug of his shoulders. “I haven’t told you, but I’m proud of you, too.” Lance watched confusion cloud Annaleigh’s brown eyes. “You've really grown into yourself. It's...sexy." Lance’s lips pulled back into a smile of amusement as he watched Annaleigh’s nose wrinkle. She let out a loud snort. “Seriously.  Confidence has always been a turn on for me. Plus, I figured you'd want to hear it.” He then started talking in a sing-song voice. “And since you wouldn't hear it from Darren-"

"Shut up, Poofu,” Annaleigh said, deadpan. The light dimmed from her eyes and he knew she was shutting down; shying away from the topic once again.

Lance lifted his arm and pinched the bridge of his nose, gritting his teeth. "Look,” he said, getting her attention once more, “I could tell you this 'til I'm blue in the face and you're still not goin' to listen,” he said to her, “but that man is in love with ya. An' you're in love with him. Why won' you do anythin' 'bout it?"

"Careful, Poofu, you just sounded Southern." Annaleigh hiked an eyebrow and Lance copied the movement.

“Give me one good reason why you won’t let yourself be happy,” Lance said adjusting himself against his pillows. “Seriously.”

The teasing look left Annaleigh’s face and she blinked once. “Because you’re not happy,” she replied with a shrug of her shoulders.

“I…what?” Lance asked quietly.

“You’re not happy,” Annaleigh repeated herself. “If you can’t be happy with a guy, why should I be?” Lance opened his mouth but she quickly rushed on. “If there’s anyone out there that deserves to be happy with whomever you choose, it’s you.”

Lance shook his head back and forth, tightly clutching his blanket between the fingers of his injured hand until his finger tips throbbed with pain. “Don’t worry about me, Ace,” he said quietly. “You and D are perfect for each other. Don’t let what time you have with him go to waste.”

“I could say the same for you and Michael,” Annaleigh said, her teasing smile returning. “You fighting like that, talk about sexy.”

“Yeah right,” Lance said with a roll of his eyes.

“No, seriously,” Annaleigh replied. “Plenty of girls, and guys, would love to watch you do that. Covered in sweat, mind you, but still.” Lance let out a loud bark of laughter. “Did you even ask him for his number?”

“Who?” Lance asked. Annaleigh gave him a pointed look. There was a moment of silence when Lance’s nose wrinkled when he made a face. She let out a sigh, emphasizing how pitiful he already felt before reaching into her pocket, holding a wadded up piece of paper between two fingers.

“Good thing I did.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Lance said as he took the paper from her. He nodded into the corner of the room. “Get me my wallet?”

“Sure,” Annaleigh chirped, getting to her feet. She crossed the room to his clothes. “D and I are goin’ ta head out soon, let you get some rest, but we’ll bring ya back a change of clothes and anything else ya want from home.”

“How about some food?” Lance asked.

“Whatever you want, hon,” Annaleigh replied with a nod of her head as she reached into his jeans pockets for his wallet.

She found the light brown object and tossed it to him. Lance caught it against his chest before opening it, a business card falling out of the folds. He quickly glanced over at his friend (who was now folding his clothes) before he tucked the business card and Michael’s number into a pocket of his wallet.

He didn’t want to lose either one.