~~~~~*~~~~~

Since opening her eyes a few days before, Libby’s progress seemed to stall in the days following Clare’s return. For Clare this had been the most upsetting part of coming home—even more so than seeing JC again. Although she'd known that it was foolish, she’d allowed herself to hope that her friend was only days away from regaining consciousness, and as the days passed since her homecoming, Clare had become more and more deflated as she’d realised that Libby was still far from out of the woods.

Libby's chief consultant had been kind enough to explain to her that Libby still had a chance of entering a persistent vegetative state—which often occurred in coma patients after they’d shown initial signs of coming around. Once he'd explained that this could lead to a total lack of mental function, Clare had been left feeling more anxious and afraid than ever.

On the whole, the medical team seemed pleased with Libby's progress. Her age and healthy lifestyle meant that she had a very good chance of recovering from her injuries, although the doctors had been keen to reiterate that there were no guarantees.

Like Justin, Clare was trying her best to keep positive, but the information had unsettled her. The weight–like feeling that she'd been carrying around since Libby's accident gained another five pounds in her first few days home from vacation.  

Clare had returned to her apartment—which still felt empty without Libby—and tried not to dwell on the fact that she'd returned to exactly the same problems that she'd gone away to escape from. Just like she'd expected she would.

Justin was also living a life of emotional highs and lows. He was exhausted from the tour preparations, and still wasn't sleeping well despite barely being able to keep his eyes open most of the time. His mind was preoccupied, and he found himself unable to concentrate on anything for long, which was frustrating both his band mates and himself. He was usually incredibly professional at all times, and put one–hundred percent into his work, but now he was barely able to focus on anything but his inner turmoil over Libby.

Time was running out. He had just over a month left before he and the other members of the group were due to leave for Europe, and he still hadn’t been able to make a fixed decision over what he was going to do about it.

He spent practically all of his free time at the hospital—what little of it there was—and although he'd been pleased to have Clare back in Orlando for Libby's sake, he hadn't been particularly gracious about having to relinquish some of his treasured time with Libby over to her. He'd forgotten that this had been part of the deal, and he was once again back to being tetchy and unpredictable in her presence. The old feelings of jealously and resentment had been resurrected, and everyone was once again walking on eggshells around him.

"So the tour's less than a month away now," Clare remarked in as pleasant a voice as she could muster as she sat beside Libby's bed and glanced at Justin. She was trying to share some of her time with him to help ease the transition of her being home, but it was a gesture that didn’t seem to be appreciated by Justin, and was only really making both parties feel uncomfortable.

Justin was sitting on the edge of Libby’s bed, and he tried not to narrow his eyes at Clare’s mention of the tour. He was fed up of hearing about it. The only thing that the tour meant to him at that point in time was a separation from Libby, and there was no way that he was going to be excited about that.

"Mmm–hmm.”

"Are you looking forward to it?" Clare asked lightly, trying to draw him out. She hated that things were so tense between them, and hated that they were so defensive around each other. They both loved Libby, she reasoned. It needn’t be a competition to see who loved her the most.

Justin let out a sigh and crossed his arms defensively over his chest. Ever since Clare’s return he’d been waiting for her to ask this. Of course she’d be pleased for him to be away on tour, he grumbled to himself. That way she’d have Libby all to herself. No doubt she was probably counting down the hours till he’d be gone.  

"Dunno," he muttered, his eyes never leaving Libby's face. “I dunno how I feel.”

"Oh?"

"Dunno if I'm gonna do the tour."

"What do you mean?" Clare asked as a frown appeared on her brow. She didn’t like the direction the conversation was heading. Justin flashed her a glare that told her that she really shouldn't need him to say the words out loud.

"If Libby isn’t better by the time we have to leave then I’m not going," he said stubbornly.

Clare's mouth dropped open, and she stared at his hard, defensive face in shock. What the hell was the matter with him? There would be outrage if he didn't attend the tour. The whole thing would have to be rescheduled—again—and it would cost the record label hundreds of thousands of dollars. If not more. It was preposterous of him to say that he wouldn't go. It just wasn't an option.

"Justin! That's crazy! You know you can't do that—"

"I don't see why not,” he replied, “they can't force me to go.”

Clare sucked in a deep breath and tried not to lose her temper. "Do you realise how much time everyone has put into preparing for this tour? We've already had to re–schedule once, there's no way we could do it again!"

"There's no reason to reschedule the tour," Justin said matter–of–factly. "I just won't go."

Clare bit back her anger and forced herself to sit on her clenched fists so that she didn’t get up and punch him in the mouth. She couldn't believe that he'd be so selfish as to pull out of the tour at the last minute, especially when so many people had been working so hard just to make it a possibility in the first place. Overlooking his feelings for Libby, it was a completely selfish thing to do, and it made her blood boil.

"You can't do that," she snapped back angrily. "*NSYNC is the five of you together, not four. The fans would be so disappointed if you weren't there, Justin." To say the least. Clare was under no misconception about who the most popular member of the group was. She ran the fan club after all.

“Libby’s my priority now. I’d never forgive myself if I wasn’t there when she needed me.”

Clare shook her head but forced herself not to chew him out. There had to be more to it than that. He loved touring and performing; it was what made all the hard work and long hours worthwhile. He would never give all that up without good reason, and so Clare took a deep breath and willed herself to be calm. She had to handle this face on. It wasn’t easy to broach the subject with him, but Clare knew that she had to try. If not for her, then for the other members of *NSYNC.

“You do realise that it could be a long time before Libby wakes up, don't you?” Clare asked him gently. “I mean… it could be a long time."

Justin said nothing but Clare saw his jaw tense. He’d heard her even if he wasn’t prepared to answer right away.

"I'm not saying this to hurt you, Justin. And I know you've been so amazingly positive about this whole situation, but I don't think you quite understand how—"

"I get it," he snapped and Clare balked slightly at the venom in his voice. He turned and stared her down with his piercing blue eyes. "I do. I get it."

Clare hesitated. “Okay. I just don't want you putting your life on hold because—"

"Because what?” he asked angrily, his eyes flashing. “Because she's in a coma? Because going on tour would mean leaving her on her own for months? Because I don't want to leave her? Because I love her?"

For a moment Clare was speechless. She’d never heard him speak about Libby that way before, and his words seemed to echo around the room as the significance of their meaning sunk in. He loved Libby. Not just liked her, but loved her. He wasn’t pretending any more.

Clare struggled to find the right words, and for a moment she babbled something about how she understood and sympathised with him before Justin cut her off abruptly.

"There's nothing you can say, Clare. There's nothing that anyone can say. I've made up my mind, and that's all there is to it." He turned around to face Libby again, dismissing Clare and the conversation with a turn of his head. Clare sucked in another deep breath and forced herself to continue despite reading his body language and knowing that she was treading a very fine line.

“All I’m trying to say it that you can’t pause your life just because of Libby. You’re the one who’s always talking about pressing forward and bettering yourself…”

Justin's head snapped around and he glowered at her, preparing to chew her out and doubtless say something that they would both regret.

"Please let me finish,” Clare pleaded as she raised a hand to stop him from speaking. “I understand that you love her. I understand that you feel torn. But you can't not do this tour, Justin. You have responsibilities to people other than Libby. You mustn’t sacrifice your career. Not when you guys are so close to making it to the big time."

Justin held her gaze but Clare noticed his tense shoulders slump ever so slightly, despite the stubborn expression remaining on his face. "I can't do it, Clare,” he said. “I can’t abandon her like that. I won’t.”

"It's not abandoning her," Clare argued, prickling at his use of the word. She resented the accusation that leaving was somehow abandoning Libby. She still had remnants of guilt over her vacation. "Libby would understand that you have work to do. She understands how your job works. Hell, she even helped to arrange this tour! If she could hear you right now she’d chew you out for even suggesting not going!”

"Would she?" Justin challenged. "You don't think she'd be even a little upset to wake up and find that we'd all gone? That she’s all alone, and will be for several months?”

"She won't be all alone. I'll be here."

Justin’s jaw clenched again, and he fought back the words he wanted to say. Which is what you’ve wanted the whole time, he thought bitterly. "And I'll be four thousand miles away. Yeah, no thanks."

“But you’ll have to leave her sometime,” Clare reasoned. “I mean, even if you don't go on the tour—which I still think is a very bad idea—you'll still have to leave her at some point. You could be at home asleep when she wakes up, or at the golf course.”

"At least I'll be close. At least I'll be in the same state, the same country. Not halfway across the globe."

Clare let out another deep sigh, realising that the conversation was going nowhere fast. She’d have to call Chris or Lance at some point to warn them that Justin was planning on deserting the tour. There was no way that she could keep this kind of information to herself. The group would need someone much more persuasive than she to talk him out of it. Maybe even someone from the record label.

An awkward silence ensued and Clare turned away to glower out of the window. She needed a minute to get herself together. The very thought of the tour sent her blood pressure rocketing without the added worry of whether Justin would or wouldn’t attend. Just wait till Jamie and the others found out about his plans, she thought. Jamie would be thrilled to hear that all her hard work would have been in vain for the second time running. Not.

Justin reached out and took Libby’s hand in his own as he crossed one leg over his knee and let his gaze linger on her face. She was so damn peaceful that it almost hurt to look at her. She had no idea the turmoil that she was causing. 

"I just can't leave her..." he mumbled after a moment, his voice barely audible over the clicks and whirs of the machines surrounding Libby’s bed.

Clare turned back around to face him. “What?”

"I can’t leave her like this. I can’t let this be the last time…” his voice trailed off, and he swallowed loudly as his eyes filled with tears. Clare, too, felt tears forming at the look on his face. He really was a broken man, and it physically hurt her to see him like this.

Pushing her anger and worry to the back of her mind, Clare stood and made her way over to where he was sitting. She'd never been particularly touchy–feely with Justin, but she gently placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. It seemed the most appropriate thing to do in that moment.

"The last time?” Clare repeated gently.

Justin's head bowed, and he allowed himself a minute of wallowing in the pain of the thoughts that had been tormenting him since the day of Libby's accident. His whole body shook as the sobs threatened to consume him.

“I… I can’t let this be the last time I see her. I can’t leave her all alone… make her be here by herself if she…”

Clare swallowed and bit down hard on her tongue, willing herself not to cry. She knew what he was struggling to say as she, too, had been tormented by the same thought day and night.

“If she were to… go. I can’t handle the thought of her being all alone...” he said, struggling to find the right words. Even admitting them out loud seemed so wrong, like he was tempting fate somehow, and yet it was almost a sort of relief to get them off his chest. It was such a strange form of therapy that he almost felt better afterwards—but only for a moment. The feelings of pain and guilt were overwhelming, threatening to swallow him up the minute he gave in to his fears.

Justin squeezed Libby's hand tighter as he tried to get a grip on his emotions. He was crying so much lately and he hated it. He wanted to punch himself in the face for being such a wuss. Even his own mother was beginning to lose patience with his emotional highs and lows. It was exhausting to be around him he knew, but there was nothing he could do about it. He didn’t even have the right words to try to explain his feelings.

As he squeezed Libby's hand tightly once again, Justin felt a miniscule twinge of movement in the palm of his hand and he immediately loosened his grip before muttering an automatic apology. At once his eyes snapped to Libby's face and his heart began thumping away at one–thousand miles an hour.

“She squeezed my hand!" he exclaimed suddenly. He gave Libby’s hand another squeeze in the hopes that it might bring a repeat of what he could barely believe he'd felt.

"What?" Clare asked, confused.

"Libby. She just squeezed my hand, I swear to God!"

"What? Is she doing it now?" Clare asked, her eyes snapping to Libby’s face. She leaned forward and stared intensely at her friend’s face.

Justin waited but felt nothing. "No."

“Are you sure you didn’t imagine it?" Clare asked tentatively.

Justin continued to watch Libby’s face carefully and ignored Clare’s question. He knew what he’d felt, even if Clare didn’t believe him. He was convinced that he'd felt something. "She moved. I'm certain of it."

Clare eyed him suspiciously, unsure whether he was imagining things or if he’d lost the plot. Given the stress that he'd been under lately, either one could have been a valid option.

"Justin, maybe you should go and get a coffee or something? You know, take a few minutes to clear your hea—"

"There! She did it again!" Justin exclaimed suddenly, his face brightening with joy. "I swear she's squeezing my hand. I'm barely feeling it, but it's there!"

Clare stared down at Libby’s face, willing Justin to be right. To her Libby seemed to be as motionless as she had been a minute or two before, but there was always a chance that she could be wrong. The hospital staff had told them to look out for signs of Libby regaining consciousness, and movement in her limbs was certainly a sign of this.

"Libby? Libby can you hear us?" Clare asked, and it was a few seconds before she realised that she was holding her breath. The anticipation of the moment was killing her. Could it be that her friend was finally returning? Had the day finally arrived?

Clare headed around to the other side of Libby's bed and carefully reached into the sling that was supporting her friend’s broken arm. "I don't feel anything," she told Justin after holding Libby’s hand for a few minutes. "Libs, honey? Can you hear me?"

Clare looked over at Justin as the feelings of disappointment began to wash over her. She knew that she should’ve known better than to get her hopes up, but it had been so easy to feed off of Justin's enthusiasm. He might’ve thought that he'd felt something, but Clare wasn't convinced that it wasn’t just his imagination running away with him. Who could have blamed him after all?

"Maybe I should go and fetch a nurse?" Clare suggested as she released Libby's hand and took a step back. "Maybe they could check the machines or something? See if there's been a change in her vitals?"

Justin nodded, but didn't draw his eyes away from Libby's face as Clare left the room in silence. He didn't really care if she believed him or not—he knew what he'd felt. Even if Clare wasn't convinced, he wasn't going to doubt his instincts; they’d never been wrong before.

"Libby… baby, can you hear me? Can you open your eyes for me?" he asked in a pleading, hopeful voice. "You just need to open your eyes and you'll be back with us, honey. Please just open your eyes."

As he watched her face, Justin was sure that he saw Libby's mouth move infinitesimally and his heart jumped up into his throat. "Libby, I'm right here. You can open your eyes and look at me. Please, baby, look at me."

"Mmm… mmm..." Libby murmured and Justin squeezed her hand tight enough for his knuckles to turn white. The machines surrounding the bed burst into a chorus of bleeps and warning sirens, but he was oblivious. He was focused completely on the woman lying in front of him.

"Libby?"

Within seconds the door burst open and two nurses bustled inside closely followed by a very pale and stunned looking Clare. Justin met her eyes for only a second and Clare saw the unbridled joy plastered across his shocked face. He'd been right after all. Clare could hardly dare to believe it.

The nurses kindly asked Justin to let them assess Libby properly, and he reluctantly slid off the bed and took a step back to allow them room to work.

"Libby?" The first nurse—who Clare recognised as the head–nurse of the ward—hovered over Libby's bed, calling her name and squeezing her hand, much like Justin had been doing. The second nurse began to attend to the machines, checking their readings and silencing the loud bleeps and sirens.

"Libby,” the head–nurse said in a soothing voice, “you're in the hospital. You’ve had an accident but you are safe now. Your friends are here with you. Can you open your eyes for me?"

"Mmm... mmm," Libby mumbled again before suddenly raising her good arm and grasping at the tube in her throat. The abrupt, aggressive movement surprised Clare, who had become so used to Libby being still for so long that the action sucked the breath out of her. Fortunately, the head–nurse had good reflexes, and she dodged out of the way before she was hit in the face by the back of Libby’s hand. Calmly she reached out and placed Libby's arm back by her side.

Clare looked on in horror as Libby began to moan aloud, rocking from side to side as though she was finally feeling the full extent of the pain of her injuries. The nurses struggled, but finally they managed to keep Libby still on the bed, offering her words of comfort and encouragement as they restrained her.

Justin's face was ghostly white, his cheeks wet with tears as he watched the nurses struggle to keep Libby calm. He hadn't expected her return to consciousness to be so violent, and it scared him to see her that way. He felt helpless and at a loss of what to do so he just continued to stare slack jawed at the scene in front of him.

Once Libby was still, the head–nurse resumed her efforts to get Libby to open her eyes. Both Clare and Justin watched with bated breath as the nurses talked to Libby for another minute or so before exchanging a glance.

"She's gone back to sleep,” the head–nurse explained as they took a step away from the bed.

"What?" Justin gasped, his eyes wide and desperate.

"It's perfectly normal," the second nurse assured him with a kind smile when she noticed the panic on his face. "Waking from a coma is a very gradual process. Libby's mind and body will be completely exhausted just from those few moments. We mustn't rush her."

"So what do we do?" Clare asked.

Wait, was the simple reply. There was nothing else to do but allow Libby to come round in her own time—however long that might be.

“We should probably call her mom," Clare said, her voice trembling with shock as she met Justin’s eyes. “She will want to be here.”

Justin nodded, but he barely seemed to have a grip on what was happening. Gone back to sleep? But she was just about to wake up! She was so close…

Realising that he was far too shocked to engage in any form of conversation, Clare swallowed and forced herself to leave the room to call Catherine. If Justin couldn’t do it then she would have to. She just hoped that she could find a way to put into words what had just happened.

~~~~~*~~~~~

About an hour or so later, Libby once again began grasping at her breathing tube. After a brief discussion the nurses considered it safe to unhook her completely from the ventilator, and Clare, Justin and Catherine—who had rushed over from the hotel she’d been staying at—held their breaths and squeezed each other's hands tightly as Libby took her first unassisted breath for the first time in nearly six weeks. It was a pretty epic moment.

Not too long after, Libby's mumbling started to become more coherent, and with tears streaming down her face, Clare was able to meet her friend's eyes for the first time since she'd said goodbye to her at the Compound on that fateful afternoon.

"Libs...” Clare sobbed as Libby's eyes flicked between their faces, her brow creasing in confusion as she tried to comprehend what was happening to her. She was so groggy, and she’d dreamed this moment so many times that it was easy to think that she was still dreaming. The only difference was the pain. The ache in her head was almost unbearable…

"Libby?" The head–nurse called to her, and Libby tried to focus her eyes on the nurse’s face even as her eyelids began to droop with exhaustion. "You are in the hospital, Libby. You've had an accident, and you were bought here for treatment. Do you remember?"

Libby stared at the nurse’s face, but made no effort to speak or react to her words. She could barely make out the person's face—whoever they were—let alone what they were attempting to mouth at her. She had no idea what was going on, but it was unsettling having so many bodies gathered around her bedside. She didn’t like this dream, and hoped that it’d soon be over.

"Libby?" The nurse tried again. "Can you understand me, Libby? Don't be afraid. You've been asleep for quite a while. It's okay if you feel tired. I just need you to squeeze my hand if you can hear me, okay?"

The nurse reached out to touch Libby's hand and Libby's eyes followed the movement until she once again closed her eyes with exhaustion and was still for several minutes.

"Are you sure she’s okay?" Clare asked in a shaky voice. "She doesn't seem to be understanding what's going on…" Clare's question hung in the air for a moment while the nurse finished her checks on Libby’s monitors in silence. Justin and Catherine exchanged a worried glance as Clare waited for a reply.

Eventually the nurse turned around and gave them all a tense smile. "She's following the usual signs of someone coming out of a coma,” she said. “But now is the time when we'll discover how severe an effect the accident has taken on Libby."

"Mhhmmnn... mmm," Libby moaned again, and when she opened her eyes she did her best to direct her gaze at Clare. Libby held eye contact for several seconds before tentatively lifting her hand and holding it out towards Clare. The effort of the movement caused Libby’s whole arm to shudder.

"Lib!" Clare exclaimed as she rushed forward and with tears streaming down her cheeks took Libby's hand in her own. It was such a surreal feeling after having become so accustomed to Libby being so still to see her friend moving once again. As soon as she felt Clare take her hand, the beginnings of a smile crept across Libby's face, and both Catherine and Justin released their held breaths in simultaneous, loud gasps.

The sound caught Libby's attention, and she slowly turned her head to look first at her mother, and then—finally—at Justin. The first moment of eye–contact between them became seared in Justin's brain, and he knew that it would be a moment that he would never, ever forget.

The room was silent as Libby slowly began to absorb the fact that she was actually able to look at her friends for the first time in what seemed to her an eternity. The emotion of finally being free of the black void, and able to communicate once again flooded her eyes with tears and she bowed her head as the reality of her situation sunk in.

She was back.

"Honey, honey, it’s okay. We're here," Catherine soothed as she stepped forward to gently wrap her arms around Libby's fragile, shaking body.

"Oh, my baby girl," Catherine whispered as she gently rocked her daughter from side to side as Libby nestled into her embrace. Tears streamed down both women’s cheeks. "Oh, my darling girl, you've come back to us."

Clare risked a glimpse at Justin, and was surprised to find that he’d moved from his position by Libby's side and was nowhere to be seen. Clare eventually found him standing directly behind her, almost at the door. His eyes were fixed on Libby's face, but his shoulders were hunched as though he were trying to make himself invisible—if that were even possible with his six foot one inch frame.

"Justin?" Clare whispered and his head snapped around at the sound. It was at that moment that she realised that he was crying, and his whole body was shaking—particularly his hands—as he tried to comprehend the fact that Libby was finally awake.

Realising that words were unnecessary, Clare held out her arms to him and gave him an understanding smile as his chin began to tremble. Justin stumbled the two or three paces towards her, and Clare instinctively reached up on tiptoes to wrap her arms around his neck.

"She's back," she whispered into his ear. "She's finally back."

"I can't believe it," Justin replied, his voice choked with tears.

"Mmmh..." Libby mumbled and both their heads shot around to look at her.

Libby reached a trembling hand up to her throat before turning to the nurse and frowning in confusion. Even though she still hadn't said a word, the nurse seemed to understand exactly what she was trying to say. They seemed to have anticipated it, even.

"You've had a tracheostomy, sweetheart," the nurse explained. "There's a tube in your throat that was used to help you breathe. It may be difficult for you to speak for a little while."

Libby gave a small nod of comprehension before giving Justin a small, tentative smile. It was closely followed by a very large yawn.

Clare smiled up at Justin, knowing how much that small gesture would mean to him, and she found him staring at Libby with a look of helpless devotion. She reached out to squeeze his hand reassuringly as she felt a lump form in her throat. As Clare had thought earlier, there was no way that Libby and Justin would be able to carry on as just friends after this. He wasn't even trying to conceal his feelings any more, they were written as plain as day all over his face.

As Libby's eyelids once again began to droop, and she fell back into another deep sleep, Clare suggested to Catherine that she and Justin go to call the others and let them know the good news. This would give Catherine some much needed time alone with Libby, which Clare could tell the older woman was far too polite to request.

Although neither of them wanted to leave, Clare understood how hard it must be for Catherine to have such an emotional and personal reunion with her daughter in the presence of company. Clare had reminded herself that once Libby regained her strength and health that she would be able to spend every day with her, whereas Catherine only had a limited time before she had to return to the UK. It wasn’t the right time to be selfish.

~~~~~*~~~~~