Hey everyone. First attempt. I'm excited about this, it's an idea I've been kicking around for awhile now. I've been playing with this story for a couple of months, and I finally decided to just post, and see what happens. Feedback is appreciated, kind criticism only, please. I'd like to thank some people for their inspiration, mainly their superb stories: DLS, Matt Hunter, Nsyncgrrl, Mike Ellis, midwestjames, and Dara Lynn. I'd also like to thank my cats, Frack and Aria.
DISCLAIMER: I know 'N Sync and Backstreet Boys. I own them, too. J.C. and Justin are currently tied naked to my bed, Lance is giving me a foot massage, and Chris and Joey are fanning me with big feathers. The Backstreet Boys are cooking me dinner. This story, along with the preceding statements, is fiction. Made up. Not true. Imaginary. Don't know, don't mean to imply. Oh, and under 18? Bye- bye!
Please don't take my story. I'm a religious person, and I have no problem calling upon my Hell's Angels friends to beat you to death in Jesus' name. smiles sweetly
Now, on with the story. Enjoy!
There was a short, determined knock, and the door opened, as Jimmy stepped into the sunlit boardroom. Six well-dressed men shifted in surprise, their movements causing the leather chairs to squeak in unison. Carrie Moore stopped mid-sentence, and shifted her gaze from the computer screen in front of her to look at Jimmy with raised eyebrows. She immediately stood when she saw the quiet, concentrated look in his eyes. She had seen this look before.
"Lance Bass is on line three," he said slowly and deliberately. Hesitating slightly, she excused herself and picked up the handset resting to her right. "Lance?"
She sat down slowly as that deep, rich Southern accent enveloped her. She saw Jimmy step closer out of the corner of her eye, and she prepared for the worst. She began to pale, as the words sank in. "..... he's alright now... pumped his stomach....releasing him tomorrow.....the pills were everywhere.....Carrie? Honey, are you there?"
"Where are you?" Her voice shook. She caught Jimmy's eye, and his calm gaze assured her that everything was being taken care of. Lance continued to speak, but she heard almost nothing. Until the end.
"He tried to commit suicide, Carrie. We need you here right now." She nodded, and said goodbye. She looked around the room at the startled faces, and smiled weakly.
"Gentlemen, I'm afraid there's been an emergency and I must leave. I'll contact you about rescheduling. Thank you all for coming." She stood quickly, and followed Jimmy out of the room.
Her head was buzzing by the time she reached her office. She went to the small bathroom and knelt before the toilet. Jimmy waited patiently outside, she could hear him talking on the phone. "Yes, this is Jimmy Martin, executive assistant for Carrie Moore, I need to speak to Brian Littrell, it's an emergency. Yes, I'll hold..."
She finished, and went to the sink to brush her teeth. Her weak stomach was not a new thing to her or Jimmy, and she'd learned not to mess herself up over the years. She rinsed one final time, and joined Jimmy in the office just as he hung up the phone.
"Brian's going to meet us at the airport, we're scheduled to leave in one hour," he said. She nodded slowly, and took Jimmy's hand. He pulled her into a hug, and held her for a moment. She couldn't cry, she just felt numb all over. She pulled away, and looked at Jimmy. He smiled, and she knew he understood. He knew her just as well as all of the boys. He had been there with her from the beginning. The beginning. She tried not to think about it, that day that changed her life, the very first day she had met him, that day that had finally led to this....his despair and desperation, his final attempt at a solution.
"Carrie, let's go, okay honey? There's a car waiting right now. You need to go home and pack. We'll meet you at the airport, okay? Carrie?" Jimmy's hand rested on her shoulder, and she glanced up at him.
"Yeah, okay," She let him lead her out the door to the elevator, and through the lobby of the main building.
"I'll meet you at the airport, right Carrie? Okay? Honey, do you need me to go with you?" He leaned down and looked at her, doubt and worry creasing his mouth and eyebrows.
"No, Jimmy, I'm fine. I'll meet you at the airport, one hour. I got it." She motioned the driver to go on, and sat back as they pulled away from the curb.
Forty minutes later, the limousine pulled to the main terminal at Orlando International. Carrie jumped out and grabbed her bags from the driver, giving a hasty smile of thanks. She half ran into the terminal, stopping abruptly at a mob of people about ten feet in front of her. Experience kicked in, and she wrestled her way into the crowd. At the center, looking grim, was Brian and he moved quickly to embrace her.
"Oh God, baby, I don't even know where to start," he whispered, kissing her lightly on the cheek.
She held him for a moment, and said, "You being here is enough for now, Bri. I'm still numb, but later on I'll need you to pick me up off the floor. And you definitely need to keep Jimmy sane, I know he's hurting from this also." They began to move away from the crowd, thanks to the help of airport security, and soon found themselves on the plane, facing each other in cushy leather chairs. Carrie closed her eyes and leaned back against the leather, sighing heavily. She felt her strength leaving her, but she knew this was just the beginning of the nightmare. 'Sleeping pills,' she thought, 'that seems appropriate for him. He always used sleep as an escape.'
Her thoughts were jumbled, remembering their first meeting, and their last. It had been almost two years since she had spoken to him. Two long years of pain, guilt, and anger. Angry at his stubbornness, pride, and fear. Guilty for inflicting this...questioning him, his lifestyle, his very being. Hurt at losing a colleague, a friend, a lover.
Soft hands closed over Carrie's, and she opened her eyes. "Everything's going to be alright, you know. You always seem to make things better, Carrie. Nobody knows these boys better than you do, nobody loves them more." Leigh Anne smiled reassuringly. Carrie had not even see her get on the plane, but was grateful for her presence. They had gotten really close over the past year, despite initial misgivings about Carrie's intentions toward Brian. She knew she would benefit from Leigh Anne's ability to speak candidly and objectively. Most people, except for the boys and Jimmy, gave Carrie only what she wanted to hear, even though she repeatedly asked for only the truth. But Leigh Anne knew Carrie well, she saw what even the boys didn't always catch.
"I think I need to sleep, ya'll," Carrie said, yawning. "I have a feeling it's going to be a long night." The drone of the airplane engines lulled her into a dreamless sleep, and for that, she was grateful.
Two hours later, the plane began its final descent into John F. Kennedy Airport. Brian, having donned hat and sunglasses, led the small party off the plane, where a haggard-looking young man with red-tipped hair greeted them. Joey Fatone, Jr. had volunteered to come retrieve Carrie and Jimmy at the airport, knowing full well that Lance and Justin needed to stay at the hospital. Chris was going to meet them at the hotel later on. After quick hugs and hand shaking, the party made for the baggage claim. Jimmy and Joey spoke quietly, huddled together, and Brian looked around the airport nervously.
"Just a couple of minutes, Bri, then we'll be out of here," Leigh Anne tried to sooth her fianc^Â. Airports always made Brian nervous, but today seemed even worse. None of them felt much like dealing with star struck teenagers right now. Carrie found her bags quickly, as did the others, and they headed for the van Joey had rented. The sun was going down in the Big Apple, and the night was starting to get chilly. Carrie shivered and pulled a sweater out of her carry-on bag. They reached the van and piled themselves and the luggage into it. Joey pulled into traffic, and Carrie turned the radio on. Music filled the van, and the silence. Carrie had relied on music as a solace since her birth, and she knew it was the same for Joey and Brian also.
"He's asked for you, Carrie," Joey spoke in a low voice, interrupting Carrie's thought. She turned and looked at him solemnly. "What are you going to do?"
She thought for a moment. This was just like her boys, if something was wrong, call Carrie, she'll fix it. They just assumed she had all the answers, and for the most part, she did. This wasn't music, though, this wasn't as easy as a chord change or different staging. She had told herself over and over that the decisions she had made were in the best interest of her boys, her students, and now she had to rethink that statement. What had she already done to lead to this? Which decision? Which day? She made literally a million decisions about her students, these boys, every day. Where had she gone wrong?
"I don't know, Joey."
He looked startled for a moment, then he nodded silently. The van pulled up to the Plaza Hotel main entrance, and stopped. Carrie smiled, this was her favorite hotel in New York, and she knew it was 'Nsync's also. They made their way to the seventeenth floor, where Joey showed them their rooms.
"I want to see his room, Joey," Carrie said as she came out of her own room. Joey grimaced, but slowly led her to the room next door to hers. He slid the keycard in the lock and opened the door. Carrie stepped in and a wave of emotion hit her. She saw his clothes, his wallet, and she smelled him all at once. She began to tear up, trying desperately to keep her composure. She knew she had to be strong for the boys.
She made her way to the bathroom, and saw his toothbrush lying on the counter. She grabbed it, and rinsed it off, then picked up his shaving bag. She threw some things in it, and walked back into the room to his suitcase. She picked out some clean clothes, and went to the nightstand by the bed. There were two crumpled photos by the phone. One was Carrie, of her standing in front of the MTV Studios, grinning proudly. The other was Lance, reading a book on the tour bus. Carrie's breath caught, and as a last minute thought, she included the photos in the bag she had packed.
"Okay, I'm ready," she said to Joey, and they left the room and met the others, now joined by Chris, in the hall.
Ten minutes later, they arrived at the hospital. Joey led them through the lobby and into the elevators. He punched seven, and waited nervously with the others. Jimmy and Brian had each taken Carrie's hand, and they squeezed them gently to comfort her. She stood fidgeting, willing the elevator to go faster and slower at the same time. Finally they reached the floor, and Joey stepped off and headed to the left.
"They have him in a private room," he said, "it's very secluded. We've managed to keep the press away so far." He stopped in front of 721. "This is it."
Joey opened the door, and Carrie took a deep breath before stepping in front of him. Immediately, she felt a wave of nausea hit her, as she saw him lying in the bed. He was pale, and had large circles under his eyes, which were closed. He had two IV's, one in each arm, and all Carrie could think was, 'Oh my God, he'll freak when he sees that. He hates needles.'
Lance and Justin both looked up as she approached the bed, and the sleeping form. Lance held her gaze steadily, and she felt his emotion and knew that he was on the brink of collapse. Only Lance had an inkling as to what really had happened here, and between Carrie and the now sleeping man in the bed. Only Lance really knew the cause of this thwarted disaster, and Carrie was glad. Lance was the only one she thought could handle something like this, but it was clear that it would be a struggle. Carrie reached over the bed and touched Lance's cheek, his eyes closed in anticipation of her touch. When he opened them again and looked at her with large, liquid pools of green, she smiled. Relief flooded his face.
Justin had risen and come to her side. She turned and faced him, and pulled him close. He buried his face in her neck, sobbing loudly, and she stroked his head, running her hands through his mop of curls.
"It's okay, baby, everything's gonna be okay," she soothed him, "he's going to make it, I promise." The sobbing subsided, and Justin lifted his head and looked at Carrie, his blue eyes shining with tears. He leaned down and touched his forehead to hers, then his nose to her nose. Carrie's hands ran down his chest to his waist, and he finally closed his mouth over hers gently. She kissed him, then backed away. The others in the room had shifted their gaze to the bed, and Carrie turned slowly around.
Large, liquid blue eyes brimming with tears caught her own dark eyes, and she felt her tears falling quickly and silently down her cheeks. She stepped to the bed, and placed her hands on the pale face, smoothing the dark hair away from his cool, dry forehead. His eyes pleaded with her, for forgiveness, for help, for anything that would take him out of this misery. Carrie leaned down and kissed him lightly, resting her forehead on his.
"I love you, Joshua." She said it over and over, as she kissed him lightly all over his face. "I love you, baby, I love you. I love you, honey, Josh, I love you." He cried freely, the tears staining his pale cheeks.
"It doesn't end here, Josh, you hear me?" she said. "JC, it begins here, and it doesn't end until all the pain and guilt and shame are gone. And when it ends, we, all of us, will have fought and won. And then," she paused, "then, I'm going to smack you really hard."
He smiled, and a burst of laughter came through the tears. She wiped his eyes with her thumbs, and leaned back to look at him. He glanced around the room, taking in the smiling faces.
"Okay," he said, "it begins here." He looked down at his arms, taking in the sight, and slowly raised his eyes to Carrie's. "Now, can you please get these needles out of me, before I really lose it?"
Well? I hope you enjoyed it. This is just the beginning, kind of a teaser opening. The ending is weird, but it seemed like the most logical place to section it. Let me know what you think.