The Pain Within

Author's Note- Another learning story for ya! Should be nicely dark and depressing for you!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"J.C. please-"

"No."

"Lance, I gotta-"

"I'm making my lunch."

"Joey? Come on man-"

"Chris, why don't you go to sleep or something, okay?" Joey grumbled as he turned away from Chris.

Chris sighed. The group had been slowly drifting away from each other. Maybe the other's didn't notice yet, but it was. They used to spend their free time together, going rollerblading, to the movies, the mall…

Chris set the magazine down. It wasn't that big of a deal anyway. He only wanted to show them the newest rollerblades available, but no one seemed interested. J.C. was busy with paperwork for the group, Lance was doing Freelance 'stuff' and cutting an apple, Justin was sleeping and Joey was just tired. No one seemed interested in him anymore.

Chris got up and went to 'his' corner of the bus. It was just a little space in between the wall and a built in table, but it was cramped enough to make him feel 'safe'. Although he never officially claimed it, the others respected him enough to stay out of it. Chris hummed to himself and bounced his leg. He couldn't go to sleep now, he just ate. If Joey had been paying attention, he would have known that.

Lance watched Chris with a hint of sympathy as he set the knife down. "You okay?" he asked, taking a bite of the apple.

Chris looked at him with those dark brown eyes. There was no anger there, only a sad understanding. "I'm fine," he replied. "Just a little lonely."

Chris looked so small and unwanted when he did this. Lance sighed. He knew Chris was getting left out more and more, but none of them could help it. There were times when FumanSkeeto needed attention, but Chris had such a good crew that he was very rarely needed in person. "Look, I'll go rollerblading with you in a little while, okay?" Lance asked.

A childish smile broke out on Chris's face. "Really?"

Why did Lance feel like he was talking to a dog? "Yes, really. Just let me finish here."

"Okay," Chris replied, picking up his magazine.

Lance smiled. At least he had brought the sparkle back to Chris's eyes. While FuMan was more of a 'group effort', Lance was the manager of a growing record label. All things came back to him personally.

Lance looked around. The others were completely ignoring their conversation. Joey was also asleep now, his head bouncing off the window every time the bus hit a bump. Lance turned back to his work and found his own eyes drifting shut. The bus was so quiet, so relaxing. Before he knew it, he was fast asleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chris was close to tears. He looked around the bus, finding everyone fast asleep. There was no one to talk to.

Chris pulled his legs to his chest and sank back in his corner. He reached out and grabbed Busta's tail, pulling the small Pug towards him. Busta had grown used to being dragged across the floor and stretched out. Chris sat Busta in his lap and began petting the dog. "You're a good boy aren't you?" Chris asked. "You'll listen to me."

Busta panted in Chris's face and got down, walking to his water dish and leaving Chris alone. Again.

Busta had finished getting a drink now, and half the water had landed on the floor. Remembering how he was yelled at last time the dog left a puddle, Chris decided to wipe up the water now. He turned his head and found a white towel dangling inches from his face, draping over the edge of the table that Lance was using. Chris reached up, stretching to reach the towel. Was it just him or had the table grown taller? Chris grabbed the towel and pulled it off the table. Before he knew what happened, a quick glint caught his eye, followed by a sharp stabbing pain. "Shit," he yelped, looking at his leg.

Lodged in his thigh was the steak knife Lance had been using to slice his apple. Blood was starting to seep through the fabric of his pants. Chris studied it, pushing aside stinging pain. The blood spot grew bigger; shinning in the light as the blood flowed freely. Chris began entranced by it's magical motion. In a strange way, it made him feel better. His leg was throbbing, but he no longer felt alone inside.

"What- Chris! What happened?" Lance asked worriedly, waking up and seeing his friend.

Chris looked up. "I uh, I'm not sure…" he started, returning his gaze to the warm blood that was slowly covering his thigh.

Lance was instantly on his feet and kneeling by Chris. Figuring Chris was in shock, he said, "Don't move okay? I'm gonna call 911-"

Chris looked at him blankly. "Why?"

"Jesus Christ Chris," Lance whispered, taking the towel from Chris's hand. He wrapped the towel around Chris's thigh, being careful not to move the knife. "You okay?" he asked, studying Chris. He didn't look pale or show any other signs of low blood sugar. He just looked sort of…out of it.

Chris flashed him a false smile. "I'm fine," Chris replied, grasping the knife handle.

"You know what you're doing?" Lance asked.

"I'm gonna pull it out," Chris replied. After placing both hands on the knife, he slowly worked out the knife, revealing two inches of bloody metal. Chris didn't cry out, but it was obvious he made an effort not to. He held the knife, staring at it as Lance re-adjusted the towel. The blood was drying already, and light bounced off the stainless steel. Chris imagined all the hurt that had been inside him now on the knife, and it made him feel better. He knew Lance was looking at him, but he ignored the blonde. The blood grew darker as it dried, and Chris imagined all the hurt surfacing. Satisfied, he set the knife down and looked at Lance.

"You wanna get up?" Lance asked. Chris was still siting in his corner making it difficult for Lance to stop the bleeding properly, although it had stopped a lot.

Chris nodded and rose to his feet, placing his hand on the towel and taking over for Lance. He walked to the bathroom awkwardly, half bending over to keep the towel in place. His leg didn't hurt that badly; it probably didn't even go all the way through the muscle. Once inside the bathroom, he shut the door behind him and proceeded to dress the wound.

Lance watched him go. Chris was never one to openly complain about anything, but that was just plain freaky. He had just completely tuned out the pain. Lance knew he would have to weasel whatever was bothering the older man out of him later.

He picked up the knife and set it in the sink, intent on cleaning it with alcohol later. He heard Joey stir behind him, preceded by a mumbled, "What's going on?"

Lance turned to face him. "I'm not exactly sure," Lance replied. "I woke up and Chris is sitting there with a knife sticking out of his leg."

"What?" Joey asked, fully waking up. "Is he okay?"

"According to him, he's peachy."

Joey gave him a confused look. "Where is he now? Where are we?" he added, looking out the window.

"He's in the bathroom. I have no clue where we are. I think somewhere in Kansas."

"Where are we going again?" Joey asked.

"Home," Lance smiled.

"Oh yeah…" Joey sighed, smiling as he looked out the window.

The bathroom door opened and Chris emerged, all smiles. "Hey Joey," he said, sitting next to Joey.

Joey looked at him quizzically. "You okay?" he asked.

"I'm fine," Chris replied. "Glad we're going home."

"Did you take care of that?" Lance asked, nodding towards Chris's leg.

"I said I'm fine," Chris replied. He didn't mean to snap at Lance, but the accident was his own stupid fault and he could take care of it himself. Lance was only concerned about him when there was blood involved.

"Okay," Lance said, holding up his hands.

Chris turned and saw Joey staring at him also. "What?" Chris asked, getting up. "I’m fine, okay? I wasn't watching what I was doing. I'm stupid. I'm sorry," he huffed, going back to his corner.

Lance turned his green eyes to Joey, silently questioning Chris's behavior.

"Just let him alone," Joey said, shaking his head. "He's in his 'difficult' mood."

Chris glared at him. He was not being difficult. It just bothered him to know that the others can't talk to him during the whole trip through Colorado, but when he does something stupid, they have to call him on it. He sank back in his corner, suddenly not wanting to go rollerblading any more.

Justin began waking up, stretching and groaning before he opened his clear blue eyes. He sat up yawning, looking around with a pale face. "Are we there yet?"

"Not quite," Joey smiled, watching as Justin rolled his eyes in disappointment.

Justin looked from Joey to Lance to Chris. "What happened?" he asked.

"Nothing," Lance replied.

Justin looked at Chris, who immediately looked away. Justin looked out the window and smiled. "I love driving through Kansas in the fall. All the trees turned colors and it reminds me of Halloween."

"Are you gonna break out into song?" Lance asked.

"No, not yet," Justin smiled. He turned on the TV and began flipping through the channels, looking for something vaguely interesting. "Hey Lance," he said, motioning for Lance to sit by him. Lance got up and sat down next to Justin, waiting. "When are we going to get him something?" Justin whispered, nodding quickly towards the pouting Chris. It was the tenth of October, and Chris's birthday was only a week away.

"I don't know, it'll take a couple days to get back to Orlando. We could pick him up something on the road," Lance suggested in a whisper.

Justin nodded and turned his attention back to the Johnny Bravo cartoon he found.

Chris glared at them. From where Lance and Justin sat they couldn't see him, and he had to lean out in the isle to see them. But he could hear them whispering something. Lance was probably telling Justin about what happened. Then Justin would get all mushy on him too. All he wanted was for the group to go back to the way it was. Which reminded him, Lance had promised to go rollerblading with him. 'Guess he likes talking to Justin about me more,' he thought.

Funny how Chris felt so alone when he was surrounded by all his best friends.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chris rolled over again. He sighed.

"Chris, I'm begging you, go to sleep!" Joey moaned from his bunk below Chris's.

"Sorry," Chris mumbled. The bus was dark and quiet, except for the rumbling of the bus and the creaking of his bunk.

"It's okay," Joey replied, hearing the hurt in Chris's voice. He listened a little while longer, surpressing the urge to groan when he heard Chris roll over again. He pulled himself out of bed and stood up, leaning on Chris's bunk. "Hey, come out here for a minute," he whispered, nodding towards the front of the bus.

Chris looked at him and sighed, following Joey away from the others. Once they were out of hearing range, Chris asked, "What?"

"Are you okay?" Joey asked.

Chris looked at his leg. "I'm fine," he said, adding a smile.

"No, I mean are YOU okay?" Joey asked. "You seem kinda depressed lately."

Chris looked at the floor. He hated lying to Joey, but he couldn’t blame his friend for not doing anything with him. Joey wasn't his baby-sitter. Chris was old enough to be by himself. "Nothing's wrong, I'm just homesick I guess," Chris replied.

Joey smiled, satisfied with that answer. "Me too."

"We can go back to bed now," Chris said.

"Okay," Joey said. "I'm glad we had this talk. I thought you were mad at me or something."

Chris watched Joey go back to bed. He looked around in the moonlight, feeling terribly. His eyes caught the gleaming of the knife that still lay in the sink. Memories came back to him from his accident earlier. How he could feel the pain bleeding out, and how it made him feel better. He found himself numbly moving towards the sink, then reaching in and grabbing the gleaming knife. He turned to the others, but they were still fast asleep.

The false feeling of abandonment had swelled in him, and he needed to release it desperately. 'This is insane,' he thought as he slid down against the wall, landing in his spot beside the table. He clutched the knife in his hands, unsure of what he was doing. Chris pulled his legs up to his chest and thought. 'Why is this hurting so much?' he asked himself. 'They have no idea how much I need them. They're like my brothers, and now none of them have time for me. I feel like a girl.'

His thoughts led him back to the painful memories of loosing his father and stepfather, and all the rough times when he was younger. Everything was suddenly catching up to him. Tears began to trickle down his cheeks and he gripped the knife tighter as he stared at his exposed thighs. His boxers stopped halfway down his thighs, showing his bandage from earlier.

Chris sniffed and slowly made the first cut, dragging the cool metal through his skin with pressure. Blood immediately filled the gouge left by the knife, spilling over and slowly creeping over his skin. The feeling was painful and warm at the same time. Chris studied the seeping blood, feeling his emotional pain beginning to disappear. Contentedly, he turned to the other leg, slicing his skin two inches above his knee. The cuts weren't very deep, but the pain awoke his senses and made him feel ten times better. Chris set the knife down, cleaning the blood off with his fingers and rubbing it until it turned sticky.

The metallic smell of blood tinged the air around him. Chris sighed and leaned his head back against the wall. The warm sensation creeping over his skin was welcomed. His whole body had calmed, and he began drifting off to sleep, happy that at last he felt content.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chris woke suddenly when something fell to the floor. He looked around the dark bus and found a shadow struggling to get off the floor. It cursed and stood up, looking around and spotting Chris.

"Chris?"

"What?" Chris asked. It was Joey.

"Are you still sitting there?"

Chris rolled his eyes. "Yeah."

"Are you coming to bed?"

"I was just getting up," Chris said, standing up.

Joey shuffled his feet as Chris approached. "Did you see me?" he asked bashfully.

"I heard you fall out of your bunk if that's what you're talking about," Chris smiled.

"You won't tell anyone will you?" Joey asked.

"Of course not," Chris said. "Your secret's safe with me." Chris patted Joey on the back as he crawled into his own bunk.

"Oh. Thanks man."

Chris smiled at the relief in Joey's voice. It was then that Chris remembered about his cuts, and he reached down to feel them. His fingers met dried blood and he winced as it pulled his legs hairs. 'I'll just wash it off tomorrow,' he thought, sighing as he closed his eyes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Chris wake up!"

Chris jumped, opening his eyes and wincing in the bright light. "What?" he asked, sitting up.

"Hi," Justin smiled, leaning over Chris's bunk.

Chris glared at him. "I hate you," he grumbled, throwing his pillow at the young blonde.

"I hate you too," Justin smiled, catching the pillow.

"Then it's settled," J.C. said. "We all hate each other."

Joey stared at him. "Somebody's in a bad mood."

"Sorry," J.C. mumbled. "I just had a bad dream is all."

"You okay?" Justin asked, smacking Chris playfully before he walked towards J.C.

"I'm fine," J.C. replied. He heard Lance turn off the water and grabbed his clothes. "It was just one of those things that gives you a bad feeling, you know?"

Justin cocked his head. "No, can't say I do," he smiled.

Joey snapped his fingers, catching Justin's attention. He nodded towards Chris, who had fallen back asleep at an odd angle. Justin grinned at him and nodded.

J.C. shook his head at the two as he headed for the bathroom, passing Lance without a word. Lance cast him a smile, but it went unnoticed as J.C. shut the bathroom door behind him.

Justin and Joey crept up to Chris's bunk and silently leaned over him. "Wake up!" Joey yelled as Justin attacked Chris's ribs.

Chris flinched away from them before his eyes even opened. "Go away!" he laughed, trying to capture Justin's hands.

"You never should have gotten drunk that night we played twenty questions," Joey scolded. "Now we will never forget where your weak spot is."

Chris finally pushed Justin away enough to get out of his bed. "It's one mistake I will never repeat," he said, trying to compose himself.

"What is that?" Justin asked, looking at Chris's sheets. "Looks like blood."

"It's nothing," Chris said quickly, walking away. He looked down at his legs and thanked God when he saw that his boxers were covering the cuts he had made last night. He pulled them down a little more, just for good measure.

"Looks like Chris got his first period!" Joey laughed.

Justin chuckled but remained concerned. "No, seriously, what is it?"

Chris shrugged. They couldn't find out about this. They would think he was sick and try to put him in a hospital. That's the last place he wanted to be. He wasn't sick, this was just a way of relieving his pain. He didn't want to kill himself, just feel alive again.

"Okay fine, whatever," Justin sighed. "Don't tell me, see if I care," he cried with false hurt.

Chris rolled his eyes.

Suddenly the water shut off and J.C. came hopping out with the towel clutched around his waist. "Guys! I got an idea!"

"You're dripping on the floor," Joey pointed out.

"Let's invite our parents to the crew Coming Home party and sing for them!"

The others thought about it for a second them smiled. "You, that's not a bad idea," Joey said. "Good job," he smiled, slapping J.C. on the back.

"That's cool," Justin agreed.

"Yeah, it'd be the 'whole' family," Lance added.

They looked to Chris who was trying to hide behind his glass of orange juice. "What?" he asked with a lopsided grin. "That's fine with me."

"Cool, it's a plan then," J.C. said, cutting Joey off as he ran back in the bathroom.

"Hey, you came out, that means you're done!" Joey shouted.

"I'm only done with half of me," J.C. grinned, shutting the door in Joey's face.

"Little bitch," Joey mumbled, stalking towards the couch.

Justin sat down next to Chris. "You're unusually quiet," he noted, drawing circles on the table with his finger.

"Sorry," Chris shrugged. "Just thinking."

"Justin, will you leave him alone?" Joey asked. "He doesn't want to be bothered right now."

Chris sighed. He wouldn't have minded the company, actually. But Justin listened to Joey and left Chris sitting by himself. Again. "How do you know I didn't want to be bothered?" Chris asked.

Joey looked at him plainly. "I didn't. But I know you. You just look like you didn’t want to be bothered."

Chris looked away, not wanting Joey to see the hurt in his eyes. 'Fine Joey, you know me better than I do,' he thought.

The water shut off again and after a few minutes, J.C. stepped out, letting out a cloud of steam. "Okay, you guys can fight over it now," he smiled, jumping out of the way as Joey and Justin raced each other to the bathroom door.

Lance looked at Chris. Normally, Chris would have said something or at least smiled, but today he wouldn't even lift his gaze from the floor. "You okay?" he asked.

"Why don't you tell me?" Chris mumbled as he walked to the couch.

Lance and J.C. looked at each other with questioning stares. J.C. shrugged and got out the carton of milk. "I'm gonna call home and make sure they don't have plans on the sixteenth-" J.C. froze and looked at Lance, suddenly remembering about Chris's birthday. Of course Lance was well aware, but J.C. had forgotten all about it. He had to get Chris a gift, and fast.

"Good idea," Lance said, raising his eyebrows and nodding slightly at J.C. "You want to use my phone?" he asked, getting up and almost pushing J.C. back the hall.

Once they were back the hall and a considerable distance away from Chris, J.C. glared at Lance and tore his shirt out of Lance's hand. "What?" he snapped.

"Don't get pissed," Lance scolded in a whisper.

"What?" J.C. asked in the same tone, only in a whisper.

"Did you forget about his party we were planning?" Lance whispered as he nodded towards Chris.

"Party?" J.C. echoed.

"I'll take that as a no," Lance smiled. "Remember like a month ago when we said it would be cool to have Chris's party during the Coming Home party?"

J.C. searched his memory. "Uh…no. Did we really say that?"

"Yeah," Lance whispered with a smile. "You were there. Dork."

"Hey, that's why I have you," J.C. grinned. "Did you get me something to give him too?" he whispered hopefully.

"No," Lance replied. "But I think Joey still needs to get something too. You two can go shopping together. Won't that be cute?"

"Go to hell," J.C. said, slapping Lance upside the head with a smile.

"Isn't living with you enough?" Lance teased as they returned to where Chris was sitting.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

'Look at them over there talking about me,' Chris thought with a sigh. 'Does everyone hate me?' Chris sighed. 'Knock it off Chris,' he told himself. 'They're your friends.' He watched Lance motion to him without looking. 'Then why are they ignoring me?' he thought with a heavy heart.

He looked around the kitchen counter for something sharp. The knife was gone; someone must have cleaned it. Chris couldn't cut himself now anyway. He would be caught for sure and then they would hate him even more. But God he wanted to. Anything to let the pain escape. After looking around once more, he retorted to pointless scratching on his leg. He was still in his boxers and waiting his turn in the bathroom. As he watched J.C. and Lance motion towards him and laugh, his scratching became harder and harder. His short nails dug into the skin on the side of his leg, causing his muscle to tense.

God the pain felt good. The painful burning only spurred him on, making his nails dig deeper into the skin. He spared a quick glance at the side of his leg and became satisfied that he had managed to draw blood. It wasn't as good as the clean cuts of the knife, but it would have to do. He watched as a single drop of blood trickled slowly onto his fingers.

"Isn't living with you enough?" Lance laughed as he and J.C. approached.

Chris sat upright and pulled the leg of his boxers down to cover the bleeding scratch. 'Hurry up and get out of the shower, Joey,' he thought, praying that no one would notice what he had done.

J.C. sat by Justin, who was glued to the TV. Lance took a seat next to Chris, opposite the side that was sporting the new wound. "So what do you want for your birthday?" Lance asked Chris.

Chris looked at him, dumbfounded. "What? You don't have to get me anything," he replied. 'I probably don't deserve it.'

"Fine," Lance sighed. "You go ahead and play that game," he smiled.

The water shut off and Chris nearly fainted with relief. "I'm next," he said, jumping up.

"Hey-" Justin began.

Chris glared at him. "You were first yesterday. You're last today."

"Who made that rule?" Justin argued. "That's the stupidest thing I ever heard. You can't boss me around-"

"Justin, let it go," Lance interrupted.

Justin looked from Lance to Chris and sighed. "Fine," he huffed, turning around to face the TV.

'Sure, listen to Lance,' Chris thought as he grabbed his clothes. 'I'm the oldest one here, but does anyone listen to me?'

Joey opened the bathroom door and stepped out, bringing a cloud of cologne and after-shave with him. "Done," he beamed.

Justin glared after Chris as the older man slunk into the bathroom. "God Joey, why do you have to smell the place up?" he asked, waving his hand in front of his face as Joey passed him.

"But this is a good kind of smell," Joey replied, taking Chris's seat.

"That doesn't mean we all want to smell like you," J.C. teased.

Lance looked at the closed bathroom door. "Do you guys think Chris is okay?"

"I think he's as annoying as ever," Justin snapped.

"He's fine. Why?" Joey asked, grabbing the remote and changing the channel on Justin.

"I don't know, he just seems kinda…quiet. I guess. I don't know, never mind," Lance trailed off.

"He told me he was homesick," Joey said, stopping on Cartoon Network.

"He's probably just depressed that he's turning twenty nine," J.C. laughed.

"Yeah, he's getting to be an old fart," Justin smiled.

Lance thought about it. "Yeah, that's probably it," he smiled. "Oh, hey J.C., did you want to call you parents now?"

"Sure man," J.C. said, getting up. He walked to the back of the bus and grabbed Lance's cell phone. "Thanks," he said as he dialed the number. "Damn Lou's cheap ass cell phones."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It hurt to look at his legs. There were numerous cuts on both legs, and on one there was a deep stab wound, while the other had finger nail gouges. He would have to be very careful when he danced or wore shorts. Chris was almost done in the shower when he decided, just for the fun of it, to pick at a cut that had begun to heal nicely.

Chris sighed as he watched the blood run down the drain. It swirled beneath his feet, making delicate, ever-moving designs on the white floor. It was a thin trail of blood, but the cut was big enough to throb under the pounding of the hot water. Chris allowed the water to flush out the cut a little longer, then he turned the water off.

That's when he realized something. It no longer mattered how he felt. This was fun. He liked the pain that bleeding brought, in fact, he welcomed it. Cuts no longer depended on his emotional state, they could appear whenever he wanted.

And it scared him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I think he'll like this."

"It's blue."

"Baby blue."

Lance sighed. "Not everybody likes baby blue Justin."

"Well why not?"

"Look at it! It's a baby blue toaster!"

Justin picked up the small toaster and smiled. "Well I like it."

"You would."

"Hey guys!" Joey yelled, trotting over to them. "I got an idea!"

Lance and Justin turned around and faced Joey. They were wondering through the local mall trying to find something for Chris's birthday. They decided to take a detour through JCPenny's and couldn't help but pass through the kitchen supplies.

"What's your idea?" Lance asked.

"Let's go to that little Chinese place for lunch."

"That's not helping," Lance sighed, looking around the store.

"Well I'm hungry," Joey replied. "Bye."

Justin set down the toaster and looked at Lance. "I'm kinda with Joey on this," he said, following Joey. "We have time to think about Chris."

"Don't procrastinate," Lance said.

Justin stopped and looked at Lance. "What about a prostate?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chris sat huddled in his corner, knife in hand. 'They all left,' he thought. 'I'm alone. Again.'

Chris had shed his pants and sat in his boxers and FuMan sweatshirt. He was already bleeding. But it wasn't enough. The cutting was addictive. Chris could barley wait for the others to leave. No sooner had they gone than he sank to his protective corner and sliced at his legs. The stinging pain was welcomed, also the warm trickle of blood that followed. It was calming.

Chris knew this was wrong. Once in a while, while he was drowsy and bleeding, his mind would separate momentarily from his body. He could look down on himself and see how sick he really was. The cutting was sucking him down, dragging through self-pity and depression along the way. It was no longer in his control, and that scared him most of all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Justin, Lance, J.C. and Joey talked over lunch. J.C. was the only successful one, and that was only because he bought Chris a gift certificate.

"You so cheated," Justin teased, trying to stab a piece of pork with his chopstick.

"What? How am I suppose to know what he wants?" J.C. said through a mouthful of fried rice.

"Well we obviously can't buy him anything, let's just DO something for him," Lance spoke up.

"Well we are. I thought we were having his party at the same time as our coming home party thing," Joey mumbled as he ate.

"But is that it?" Lance asked.

"Lance, it's Chris. The same Chris it was last year. A party will be fantastic for him. He'll love it."

Lance looked at Justin, then at the others. "I guess," he sighed.

"I think we should call his mom and have her think of something," Joey said before finishing his egg drop soup.

The others looked at Joey. "Joe, sometimes you amaze me," J.C. smiled, pulling out his phone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Chris, we're home!" Justin yelled as he bounded on the bus.

"We're not technically home," J.C. started.

"Well whatever," Justin said, rolling his eyes.

The others filed on the bus, dropping the leftovers by the refrigerator. "Food!" yelled Justin.

They found Chris fast asleep in his little spot in the corner. "Wake up!" Justin said, smacking Chris lightly on the head as he walked back to his bunk.

Chris moaned slightly and stretched, then woke up fully when he realized the others were back. He looked at his legs, grateful he had gotten himself somewhat cleaned up before he fell asleep. Or passed out really, but fell asleep was a nice was of lying to himself.

"Have fun without us?" Joey asked as he turned on the TV.

"Tons," Chris said, rolling his eyes. Then the delicious smell of food caught his senses. "Is that Chinese?" he asked, getting up on sore legs.

"Yeah, but you can't have any," Justin teased.

Chris ignored him and grabbed a fork. "What did you guys do?" he asked idly as he began eating beside Joey.

"We talked about you," Justin quipped. He saw Chris's hurt look and added, "Just playin' with ya."

"We shopped," J.C. said, rolling his eyes.

"Yeah, and we got stuff set up for our Coming Home party," Lance said.

"Why are we coordinating our own party?" Chris asked.

"Because it's better that way," Justin said. "Can you imagine what it would be like if someone from management did it?"

"I can," Joey said, his eyes glued to an episode of Full House.

Chris finished the food in record time and threw away the box. "Well then I guess I'll call my mom," he said, going to get his phone.

The others looked at each other worriedly. When they had called Beverly, they told her to keep the party a secret. Hopefully, she wouldn't forget or accidentally blab something.

Chris sat on his bunk and dialed his mom on speed dial. He listened to it ring three times then heard Beverly pick up.

"Hello?"

"Hi mom," Chris smiled.

"Chris! Hi! What's up?"

Chris leaned back. "Well we're really close to home and we're going to have a Coming Home party for all the crew and stuff, so I was hoping you and the girls could come."

"Sure! I- uh oh. I'm sorry Chris, but I don't think I can make it," Beverly sighed.

"Why not?" Chris asked, feeling tears begin to burn his eyes.

"I um…have some plans. I'm sorry sweetie."

"Okay," Chris said quietly.

"Do you want to talk to the girls?"

"Not right now, mom, thanks."

"Okay, well I'll let you go then. I'll see you guys soon."

"Okay, bye," Chris sighed.

"I love you Chris."

"Love you too mom. Bye," Chris mumbled, then hung up the phone. It beeped in response, and Chris threw it to the opposite end of his bunk. He knew what he had to do. Chris quietly got up and plastered a fake smile on his face as he made his way to the kitchen area.

"How'd it go?" J.C. asked suspiciously.

"She's busy," Chris mumbled, backing up to the silver ware drawer.

"Well maybe she can make it next time," Lance smiled.

"Yeah," Chris said, opening the drawer and quietly pulling out a knife. "What are you watching Joey?" he asked, hoping to divert the other's attention as he crept to the bathroom.

Sure enough, the others turned to see what Joey had on. Joey looked at them. "I don't know," he shrugged, almost blushing. "Cartoons?"

The other's attention dissipated as Chris slipped into the bathroom.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"WE'RE HOME!" Justin's yell reverberated around the bus.

The others looked out the window and were greeted with the familiar sights of Orlando. The warm sun beat down and there were pools in every back yard. Swarms of people walked/skated the sidewalks, and basketballs bounced from every teenage boy's hand.

Smiles lit all their faces. "I can't believe we're finally home!" J.C. and Justin said at the same time.

"Will you guys knock it off? That game is really old," Joey said, gathering his things.

"You're just mad because you suck at it," Justin and J.C. shot back.

Chris quietly packed his things beside Lance. His legs were sore and every step caused the abused, ripped muscle to protest in pain.

Lance looked at him. "How come you're joined this side of the noise range? Aren't you suppose to be up there yelling your head off with the others?"

"I just don't feel like it," Chris replied.

"You okay?" Lance questioned. "Your sugar didn't crash or anything, did it?"

"Lance, I'm fine," Chris sighed. "Just a little tired. Is that okay?"

Lance smiled. "I guess. I suppose even freaks like you get tired once in a while."

"Yeah, freaks like me," Chris echoed with a slight smile.

The guys jumped off the bus as soon as it stopped. They were let off at the recording studio where their families could meet them. It felt so good to walk in the warm weather and fresh air. Being cooped up on the bus had its downfalls.

Chris was the last one off the bus, almost tripping down the steps. They walked into the building where all the employees of Jive met them. Tons of people greeted them, only a few were familiar. Everyone could see that the guys just wanted to go home and be with their families.

"I have an announcement," J.C. spoke up over the buzz of the crowd. When they had quieted, he continued, "Tomorrow morning I would like to invite all of you to our Coming Home party. Thanks for the hard work guys, it's good to be home!"

Everyone cheered and clapped as the members of Nsync weaved their way outside to their awaiting cars.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chris had barely survived the night. To his mother's worries, he had spent most of the night locked in his room. When morning had come, he looked a little paler than usual and seemed very sedated. Beverly put it out of her mind though, realizing that he probably just needed rest from their strenuous tour.

As he approached Jive, Chris's anticipation grew. Everyone would be there and they would all be happy. As he pulled into the parking lot, Chris could see other people going in, some of them carrying plates of food. He wondered who had told them all to bring food; he didn't remember J.C. saying anything about that yesterday.

As Chris headed in, he thought he saw Taylor. But that was impossible, his mom had taken them to where ever she had went to so early this morning. He had woken up to an empty house. Chris was glad for that though, because he had began bleeding during the night and had his sheets in a mess. If anyone saw that, he was surely in for it. Not to mention today was his birthday, and he could have been had if his sisters had woken him up like they usually did.

"Hey Chris!"

Chris turned around just as he reached the door. It was Lance. "Hey Lance," Chris said, putting on a smile. He looked past Lance and saw a small group of people standing, holding their hands behind their back.

"Um, would you walk with me for a minute?" Lance asked, taking Chris by the arm and leading him away from the door.

Chris would have answered but he found himself already moving and saw no point in it.

"Um…" Lance started, looking over his shoulder hesitantly. "So today's your birthday?"

"Yeah, I'm surprised you remembered," Chris replied. "No one else did."

"That's nice…" Lance looked over his shoulder again. "Um…okay, lets go in. It's hot out here."

"It's seventy five," Chris replied.

"Really, I bet you had fun," Lance smiled absently. He grabbed the door and pushed it open for Chris. "After you."

Chris glared at him and stepped inside.

"SURPRISE!"

Chris jumped and swallowed his heart. "Oh my God," he gasped, looking around the lobby. All around him people were wearing party hats and throwing confetti. There was a long table of food and a pile of wrapped presents sat at the end. In front of everyone were the other guys, and his mom and four sisters.

"Happy Birthday!" Beverly smiled, starting a round.

Chris smiled for the first time in days. Tears were beginning to leak from the corners of his eyes. "I thought you guys forgot," he half-laughed as Molly placed a hat on his head.

"Chris, we could never forget," Joey said. "We might want you to think that, but we wouldn't really."

"Thanks guys," Chris blushed, looking at all the people.

Justin came forward and led him to an empty table. "Okay now, stand up there while we all sing you happy birthday."

Chris turned red as the fifty people prepared to sing. Justin practically shoved him on the table, making Chris wobbly from the height. Justin and the others gathered around in front of him, looking up with smiles on their faces.

"Happy Birthday to you…"

Chris turned beat red as everyone sang the quick song to him. He fumbled with the top snap of his tear-away pants, hoping to speed things up. Once they were done and started to turn away, Chris stepped forward to get down off the table.

"Hey everybody, look at this!" Justin beamed, reaching out quickly and grabbing the bottom of Chris's pants.

Chris started to back away in fear, but Justin had already gave the tear away's a good yank. The slick material slid over Chris's legs and boxers, revealing severely cut legs.

The room quieted as they studied Chris. Their faces fell serious and Beverly stepped forward and asked, "Chris, what happened?"

Chris backed up in panic, wishing he were anywhere but there. His heel found the edge of the table and he jumped off, then took off for the bathroom.

A low murmur rose in the room as rumors and questions began to fly. Justin stood in shock, holding the silver pants in his hand. He turned to the others and asked, "What was that?"

Beverly stepped forward and stood beside Joey. "What happened to him?" she asked. "Why is he cut so badly?"

She got blank looks from the others. "I don't know," Lance said, "But I'm going to find out."

"It was just a joke," Justin said. "I didn't mean to-"

Beverly watched Lance trot in the direction Chris had gone. "It's okay Justin, I'm glad you did. We need to know what's behind this."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chris ran inside the bathroom and threw himself down on the floor behind the door. The tears were flowing now, as he pulled out his pocketknife. Tears of embarrassment, shame, guilt and fear. Now everyone knew his secret. The one thing that was keeping him sane. He would always remember their shocked faces and pity.

Blindly, madly, he began slicing away at his thighs. The tile floor was cold through his plaid boxers. Any other time, HE probably would have been the one to pull off his pants, but he felt totally humiliated when his bloody, red legs were exposed to the group of people closest to him. The pain of the blade was soothing to him, sapping all his strength as red blood oozed from the cuts.

Suddenly the door flew open and Lance stepped in, looking around with worry on his face. When his emotional green eyes landed on Chris, he froze. "Chris…what are you doing?"

Chris looked up at him with tear filled eyes and stopped his slashing. He'd been found out. No use in hiding it now. "I'm making myself feel better Lance," he said softly.

Lance noted the other man's tight grip on the pocketknife. "Chris, how long has this been going on?" he asked, sinking slowly to kneel in front of Chris.

"I don't know."

"Chris, why didn't you come to one of us? You know you can always talk to us. This is insane. Look at yourself."

"Lance, I can't talk to-"

"No, Chris, look at yourself," Lance interrupted. "Look."

Chris looked down slowly and saw the sickening sight of his own thighs bleeding profusely. Yet he felt no pain. He searched Lance's eyes with his own, trying to assess his standpoint. He began again, "I can't talk to you about it when it's about you."

"What?" Lance questioned.

"I don't know Lance, I just feel so alone. The past few days have been hell for me and this was how I escaped it. I know it's wrong, but I can't stop. It makes me feel better."

"Chris, how can this make you feel better?" Lance asked, getting up to grab some paper towels. "Don't you see what you're doing to yourself?"

The door swung open again, nearly hitting Chris. Justin walked in, carrying Chris's pants and quickly finding the two. "What the hell?" he asked, seeing Chris.

"Justin, be quiet," Lance sighed as he went to Chris and held the paper towels over the cuts.

"What happened?" Justin asked, stepping beside Lance.

"He's cutting himself," Lance replied, looking at Chris squirm in pain as he pressed down.

"Why?" Justin asked.

"Justin, we don't know why!" Lance snapped. Chris's blood was quickly seeping through, coating his hands in the warm liquid. "I think you need stitches," Lance said.

"No I don't," Chris groaned, pushing Lance away weakly. "I'll be fine."

Lance spotted the dropped pocketknife and quickly picked it up. "Come on, let's get your pants on and go."

Again, Chris refused. "Lance, I'll be fine, just leave me-"

Chris winced as Lance picked him up and held him against the wall. "Chris, your mom is out there. At least do this for her."

Chris picked up his legs as Justin held the pant legs open for him. He blushed despite his sickly pale color, feeling helpless and embarrassed at having his friends dress him. He just wanted to be alone, dealing with the pain on his own. The aching in his legs served some comfort as he found himself moving to the door.

"Justin, get the door," Lance said as he held Chris up.

Justin obeyed quickly then moved back and helped Lance hold up their older friend. "Will he be okay?"

"Yeah, he'll be fine as soon as we get him to the hospital," Lance said with a soft grunt as they stumbled out into the hall. "He's lost so much blood, he's probably anemic now."

Lance and Justin moved Chris down the hall with very little help from the 29-year-old. Beverly was waiting impatiently and nearly screamed when she saw the two blondes carrying her blood-covered son. "What happened?" she asked, running forward and holding Chris's head up.

Joey and J.C. were right behind her, along with a hush from the crowd. Lance quickly explained, "I found him in the bathroom cutting himself. He needs to go to the hospital. The bleeding won't stop."

"Come on," Beverly said with tears in her eyes. She led the quintet through the staring crowd and out into the parking lot. After the group was gone, the room flared back up with rumors and put-downs.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Beverly drove Lance, Chris and Justin to the hospital, never losing J.C. and Joey in the car behind them. Chris had passed out, leaving the others to try and figure out the cause of his self-mutilation.

"I thought he was happy," Justin said as they sat in the waiting room.

"What would make him want to do this to himself?" Beverly asked.

Lance stared at the blood on his hands. "Maybe he just couldn't stop," he said quietly.

"What do you mean?" Beverly asked, rubbing Lance back softly.

"I don't know," Lance sighed. "Didn't you see the way he was embarrassed about it? If you like something, you're not embarrassed by it."

"Were we really teasing him that much? Maybe we just got to him after a while," Joey said.

"Teasing him enough to make him want to cut himself? I don't think we were that bad," J.C. said.

"Maybe you weren't that bad," a voice interrupted. "But in his mind it hurt him."

The group looked up to see a doctor standing in front of them, stethoscope slung around his neck. "Are you Chris's doctor?" Beverly asked, standing up.

"Yes, I'm doctor Kravitz. I will be in charge of Mr. Kirkpatrick while he's here."

"Is he okay?" J.C. asked.

"Chris will be fine. He was brought in in a somewhat severe situation, but now he's out of the woods. He had a blood and plasma transfusion because he was slightly anemic. You got him here in perfect time."

"What about his legs?" Beverly asked quietly. She felt the others move closer to her.

"I'm afraid he'll have a little light scaring on his thighs were some of the deeper cuts are. In time though, they'll be barely recognizable." The doctor looked quickly at his beeper then back up at the group.

"Can I see him?" Beverly asked.

"Yeah sure," Dr. Kravitz replied. "But I strongly recommend a good psychologist if you can't find out what started all this. Self-mutilation is a disease, just like depression or alcoholism. This may take some time to get over."

Beverly nodded. "Thank you." She hoped it wouldn't be that hard to talk to her son. He had to have known what he was doing was serious. She started towards the hospital room the doctor had pointed her to. Hopefully she could be the one to straighten him out.

She opened the door and quietly slipped in. Chris lay in the bed, looking blankly out the window. He had been cleaned up and was now wearing a hospital gown and ID bracelet. His legs were concealed under the light sheet but thick bandages were still visible. "Chris?" she asked softly.

Chris turned to look at her. She had been crying. "Mom, I'm so sorry-"

Beverly gave Chris a long hug. "Why? Why would you do that to yourself?" she asked.

"I don't know." Chris drew in a shuddering breath and straightened up. "It just started by accident and it felt good so I kept doing it…"

"How could this have started by accident?" Beverly asked.

"I just pulled a knife down on myself and it felt good. It hurt, but I could see the pain flowing out with the blood." Chris thought about showing her, but he wasn't sure he could find that first cut out of the spider webs that now scared his legs.

"Chris," Beverly sighed. "You do know that what you're doing isn't right, right? You need to talk about it."

"I know," Chris whispered.

"Where did all this pain come from?"

"Just different things. Being away from home for so long, my growing older, no one to talk with, you…" Chris looked down.

"Me?"

"When I asked if you would come today," Chris said with a slight smile. "I didn't know about any of this. Then you said no, and I just felt…"

"Chris," Beverly started, giving Chris another hug. "I'm so sorry all of this happened. I thought you were happy. I guess I should have checked on you more."

"It's okay," Chris replied. "I feel so ashamed. Now everyone thinks I'm depressed or suicidal or something. I never wanted to kill myself."

"I know you wouldn't. You love life more than anyone I know," Beverly said. "But you can't keep this up Chris."

"I'm going to stop, I swear. I already did stop. I don't want anyone to see me like that again."

"Good for you Chris. You guys need to talk about this. They're worried about you."

Chris sniffed and sat up again. "I will," he said solidly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chris was released later that day. Feelings were shared and hugs were given, smoothing over their relationships. All was forgiven and a new slate drawn. The first step of Chris's recovery was to educate the people that had been at the party.

Chris explained the dark force of pain that kept him entangled in its odd joy. How hard it was to stop, and how desperately he wanted to. He was not suicidal, and hardly even depressed, but the cutting held a power all it's own and would not let go.

Self-mutilation is a disease. Its victims hardly want to die. They are looking for a way out of the emotional pain that some outside force has caused. If you see symptoms, please help the person. It may be the hardest part of sending them on the road to recovery. But that road is much safer, and brighter, than the road of slow self-destruction.

Finish!

Home

Email: jaysmyrascal@cs.com