Title : Till Death Do Us Part Part : 3 Rating : PG Hosted at : http://www.superlative.ca/daydream, www.fanfiction.net Feedback : nina@superlative.ca Note: **=italics Disclaimer : I don't know *NSYNC or anyone who does. I do not assume to know anything about their lives or sexuality. They are real people, with real lives, I just like to play with them once in a while.
Part 3
Lance found Justin sitting in the dining room, his head laid on his arms on the table.
Lance touched his shoulder gently, "are you alright?" He asked softly.
"Yeah, I'm fine, don't worry so much."
Lance smiled, "that's my job, isn't it?"
"No, your job is to make sure I take my pills on time, or clean me up if I puke on myself in the middle of the night and driving me to the hospital for treatments and helping me walk when I'm to weak and dopped up to it myself. Thats your job."
"Okay, I'm sorry, I was just trying to be friendly, something you might want to try as well or our living experince isn't going to be pleasent." Lance started to leave the room, intent on his warm bed and a good book.
Justins laugh stopped him, "did you think it would be? Pleasent is the last thing my life is right now, and since your living here, why should yours be? You think cancer is all parties and roses? It's not, you've got a tough lesson to learn if you think it is."
"I know it's hard, I didn't think this would be an easy job! But at least I'm making the effort to be nice, and try to form some sort of friendship or at least some common ground. You could maybe try and meet me half way?" Lance stalked from the room and banged up the stairs, slamming his door when he reached his bedroom.
Friends, why does he want to be friends with me? Lance's words echoed through Justin's head, making him wonder why this boy wanted so badly to earn his friendship. Justin had spent the better part of the last five years pushing everyone away, including his family. He had no friends left from before he got sick, some left because he chased them away, others just couldn't hack it when he got very sick. He'd had enough money in his trust to live off for the rest of his life, so when he turned 18 he took it and ran, never telling his parents where he was going or what he was doing. He figured since he was going to die soon anyway, the money didn't have to last that long.
So here he was, dying, with no friends to speak off and a stranger that only wanted to be friends with him, nothing more. He wasn't asking Justin to try and live or asking him to make promises, or trying to get his money. He just wanted to be friends. Why did that seem like such a hard thing to do? Because your cold as ice with no heart, you've worked so hard at keeping people out you forgot how to let them in. Justin sighed, squezzing his fingers to his temples trying to block the pain that was starting there. The headaches seemed to get worse in the evening time. This had been one of his reasons for wanting someone living with him. Some nights, the pain got so bad he couldn't walk and ended up passed out on the living room floor for hours. His social skills may not have been to sharp, but he wasn't stupid. Not that he was afaird to die, it was more the dying alone and having no one notice thing that kept tugging at his mind. What would happen if he was to die one night, no one would notice until the cleaning lady came, and even then she might not find him because she had been told to never enter his bedroom. Taking out an ad in the paper seemed like the best idea, what a joke. He'd gotten one response, from Lance, that was it. Good thing he wanted the job, Justin thought, rising from the table. He climbed the stairs slowly, but by the time he was half way up was so winded he knew there was no way he'd make it himself.
"Lance," he called out, hopping he wasn't sleeping or listening to music, "Lance!" He called again, alittle more urgently, and Lance's door opened.
"Jesus," he whispered and quickly walked down the stairs to meet Justin. Lance slid his arm under Justin's shoulders and knee's, picking him up and carrying him to his room.
"You don't have to carry me ya know, I can walk."
"You wanna walk? I'll put you right back on the stairs then and you can walk." Lance dropped Justin onto his bed and stared at him hard.
"What is your problem?"
"Are you gay?" Lance asked suddenly.
"Am I what?"
"Are you gay? The ad said you wanted a male nurse, why male?"
Justin sighed, "because girls get attached to easyily, they get clingly and they hover, I don't want that. Besides, it'll be much easier if I ever have to be naked in front of you, girls get so...immature about that kind of thing, don't you think?"
"I'm glad we can be honest with each other, if nothing else. I'm not clingly and I don't hover and I don't embrass easyily, I want to be a doctor, it's part of the job, but I am gay, if that bothers you I can leave now."
Justin closed his eyes, "no it doesn't bother me that your gay, whatever."
"Fine, goodnight then."
"Lance," Justin called out as he had his hand on the door knob, "will you leave the door open...just in case?" Lance smiled, this was what he'd glimpsed in Justin, this shy, vunerable young man who was hurt and scared.
"Yeah Justin, sure."