Uninvited…

Abby nodded eagerly, curling up next to Madame’s slender frame as she opened Great Expectations. They were nearly finished with it. Madame smiled down at her as Abby snuggled close, her small frame curling up trustingly against the young woman. Madame stroked her hair, briefly ignoring the book.

Abby shook her head hesitantly. "I’ll never like boys," she declared firmly. "They’re gross. And they walk around acting like…like big pooheads." Abby ducked her head as Madame made a tsking sound, though there was a barely restrained smile on her face.

Abby shivered in her sleep, shuddering. Her eyelids tightened as she turned her head. Moonlight slanted through the open blinds, catching her face, and gleaming gently as it struck the wetness on her lashes.

Abby stirred, uneasiness tickling at the edges of her consciousness. Her inner clock told her it was late morning. Long past time for Sunny to have gotten her up to go outside.

Her eyes struggled open, feeling as if sand had been poured into them. A headache thudded dully at the base of her skull, her reminder of the argument she'd had with Cecile the night before. A long, frustrating argument that had done nothing but infuriate her over the extent of her cousin's unending selfishness and self-preoccupation.

Cecile had finally stormed out when she'd been unable to convince Abby to let her stay, more than likely to find some of her old school friends and party, completely disregarding Abby's demands that she find herself another room.

So Abby had called the desk and done it for her before collapsing into bed with a restless, listless Sunny, only to be dogged by nightmares in her sleep.

Abby sighed deeply, rolling over in the sheets she'd twisted awry in her sleep. She reached out a hand to stroke Sunny's back, then froze, shooting upright and leaning over the prone animal, her cousin completely forgotten.

"Sunny?" The question was a whispered croak.

Desperately, heart racing, she pressed her ear to the thin chest. She swallowed, slumping in partial relief as she felt the slightly erratic pulse of the dog's heartbeat. She closed her eyes, running her hand gently over Sunny's head. But her breathing was shallow, and Abby tugged on a floppy ear worriedly.

No response.

"Sunshine." Her voice barely emerged, and she tried again. "Sunshine, wake up, lazy mutt. Time to go out before you forget your potty-training."

No response.

Abby shook her slightly. "Sunshine?"

No response.

Her jaw clenched. "Sunshine! Get up!" She ordered, holding her breath.

No response.

Her heart leadened, tightening her chest until breathing was difficult, and she reached for the hotel phone with shaky hands, ordering herself to stay calm.

"Hello?"

"Prentice, Penthouse. I need a cab. Five minutes. Make them wait."

She hung up after receiving a startled confirmation and slid out of the bed, moving around the room with methodical precision, finding yesterday's clothes thrown over the chair and pulling them on robotically. Then gathering her ever-present backpack.

She crawled back up on the bed, finding the cell phone that Lance had remembered to leave behind.

Her numb thoughts paused slightly, circling the young men she'd met last night, then resumed, marching onward. She clicked the phone on and dialed the familiar number.

"Hello?"

"Max?" She spoke mechanically. She didn't need to say anything more.

"I'll be there in fifteen minutes, Abs."

When she'd completed the two necessary phone calls, she carefully replaced the phone, then scooted over the wide expanse of bed. With trembling muscles, she tenderly cradled Sunny's limp form in her lap. She stared into space, memories of the past crowding into her mind, threatening to spill out in front of her.

She turned her mental eyes away, flinching.

"Don't leave me, Sunny." The words were barely a breath of sound in the quiet room. The flicker of hope inside her burned a little lower. "Please."

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

And one, and two, and Lance you're off step again," JC announced with mild exasperation.

Lance winced. "Sorry." He took a deep breath and yanked his mind back to the matter at hand, running a hand over his sweaty neck. They were going through a brief rehearsal/sound check before their second concert on the same stage as the night before.

JC shook his head, looking at him curiously. "No, let's all take a fiver. Okay?"

"I second that," Chris announced immediately, wandering away from formation towards the water cooler.

 JC grinned wryly. "Guess it's official. Go take a break, man."

Lance sighed, wandering to the front of the stage and sitting down on the edge, staring at his feet as they swung idly. He looked up when a bottle of water was thrust in front of his face, wet with condensation.

Justin raised an eyebrow at him questioningly. "Wanna chat?"

Lance took the bottle, avoiding his gaze. " 'Bout what?"

"Whatever it is that's making you miss count when there aren't any pretty girls here to distract you." Justin sat down beside him, mirroring his pose.

Lance grimaced.

"Sometimes it's better to share what's bothering you. It helps to have another opinion. Or work things out aloud."

"And sometimes it's so confusing even that doesn't help," Lance countered.

"Have you wormed it out of him yet?" Chris inquired, sitting down so Lance was sandwiched between them.

Lance rolled his eyes. "Gee, Chris, that sounded so supportive. Makes me feel all warm and squishy inside."

"JC! We're going to need more than five! Lance needs a bathroom break and wardrobe change!" Chris screamed, his voice echoing, and Lance groaned.

Chris grinned. "You know we love you." Lance yelped as Chris wrestled him into a headlock, noogieing him cheerfully until Lance finally cried 'uncle'. Justin laughed quietly at them both, shaking his head.

He glared at the older man as he sat upright, rubbing his burning scalp. Chris crossed his arms. "So you going to tell us, or I have to use some more of my patented charm?"

Lance sighed, contemplating his water bottle. "I feel guilty," he admitted.

"About what?" Justin asked curiously.

"About the reason for our eventful night," Lance answered, skirting around a more direct reply.

"You mean leaving her?" Justin asked thoughtfully, rubbing his chin with a slight frown.

Lance simply nodded, too uncertain to put the feelings into words. He looked at Chris with a raised eyebrow. "Any other…" He stopped at the worried look on the other man's face. "What?"

Chris hesitated, glancing away with his own guilty expression. Lance jabbed him in the ribs. "Ow! Jeez, Lance, you testing your own charm out?" Chris joked, but it was weak. Lance crossed his arms and looked at him expectantly.

"Chris, man, what do you know?" Justin broke in, and Lance shot him a surprised look, struck by the oddly protective note in his voice.

Chris chewed a nail. "I called the front desk about her before we left," he admitted. "I was going to invite her to dinner, something, to maybe help keep her mind off...things." He took a deep breath. "I sort of pulled status, and found out some things. The girl at the desk said that Abs called for a cab this morning and demanded it wait, then disappeared into it with an older guy, I'm guessing Max. He was carrying a dog--Sunny," he added quietly. "I called up to her room. No answer. The desk said she hadn't been back all day."

"Damn," Justin stated succinctly, upset. Lance echoed it silently.

"Guys? Break's over," JC called, walking back out onstage with a towel around his neck.

Justin sighed heavily. Chris shook his head at Lance, who sat expressionlessly, the only signs of life the emotions flickering wildly in his light eyes.

"See why I didn't want to tell you? It sounds bad. Probably worse than it is," he spoke with admirable conviction.

"You hope," Justin muttered, climbing to his feet and stalking over to join JC and Joe as they moved through a few steps.

Chris groaned softly. "The kid's showing some concern. Which is why you're worrying me," he prodded, gripping Lance's forearm.

The muscles under his hand tensed slightly. "I dunno what to tell you, man. I'm going to keep trying to get ahold of her though," Chris promised when Lance remained silent.

Lance nodded, climbing to his feet as JC called again. "Tell me what you find out?"

Chris nodded. Lance tried a smile, then joined his groupmates, thoughts still whirling around his head.

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

Abby walked slowly into the hotel lobby, feeling oddly detached and floaty. She paused in the middle of the lobby, inhaling the scent of many perfumes and colognes, and the tang of cleaning products.

She took a deep breath, feeling her stomach rumble with hunger, grounding her back into herself. She hadn't eaten anything since that morning, when Max had forced a croissant on her while they waited. But she knew if she ate anything, she would be sick.

Abby made her way slowly to the front desk, feeling people skirt around her sweeping cane.

"Miss Prentice? May I help you?" asked a cheerful feminine voice.

"Can you please have someone show me where the hotel bar is?" Abby asked politely. The clerk paused.

"Of course. Matthew?"

"How may I help you, Miss?" inquired a kindly, older male voice, husky from years of smoking. She could smell the tang of pipe tobacco on his clothes.

"Just walk beside me and show me where the bar is."

"Here we are, Miss. This is the counter."

Abby slid onto a barstool, a low backrest providing extra support.

"Hello, my name is Daniel. What can I get for you?" asked a pleasant male voice.

Abby folded her cane slowly, hooking it onto her backpack and setting it at her feet.

"Whiskey. Straight up," Abby told him, her tone brooking no argument.

A brief silence. "Miss, are you old…"

Abby slid a hundred dollar bill towards him.

"Whiskey. Straight up," she repeated emotionlessly.

The shot glass hit the table in front of her with a soft thud.

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

"Aghhh!! Help me! I'm being attacked by beanie babies! Lance, this is all your fault!" Chris wailed, and Lance chuckled, rewarding the older man for his efforts as Chris deliberately knocked against the table in the dressing room and caused a small avalanche to pelt him in the head.

"Chris, are we having a crisis?" JC asked, bursting into the room and breathing hard as he toweled himself off hurriedly. Lance tossed him another shirt, pulling on his own and throwing his damp towel in the corner basket with Chris's.

Chris stood and brushed himself off with dignity. "No. Just trying to get the albino to smile at least once when he's not onstage. He's been way too quiet tonight."

Lance opened his mouth, surprised, then paused, realizing it was the truth. He shrugged. "Is that illegal?" he asked humorously. He glanced in the mirror, running a hand through his spiky hair and eyeing the shadows under his eyes critically for a moment before turning away with a sigh.

Chris nodded. "I'm too old to be the only entertaining one." Lance met Chris's solemn eyes, shaking his head.

"Is something wrong, Lance?" JC asked, taking a moment to stare at his friend questioningly. "Chris is right, you haven't been as happy as usual. Not to mention sound check this afternoon."

"Have you gotten ahold of Abs yet?" Justin suddenly asked from the couch, finishing tying his shoelaces and looking up at Chris expectantly.

Meow Lance thought wryly. JC blinked, looking back and forth between the three men. He turned his gaze back on Lance, eyes narrowing.

"Is that why you've been so quiet?" He paused, connecting the rest of the sentence. "What about Abs? Why do I feel severely out of the loop?" he mused dryly.

"Because you generally are," Chris snorted. He shook his head at Justin, and Lance felt his heart sink

"Well?" JC asked.

"Not now. We'll explain later. Joe can only ad-lib for so long before his one-liners expire, and he starts picking up chicks in the front row. Let's go."

JC threw his hands up in the air as Chris rushed past him, followed by the other two. He pivoted with a sigh, throwing his concentration back into the concert they were in the middle of performing.

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

 "Okay, now give," JC demanded, collapsing onto a couch in the back lounge with a bottle of water.

"Feeling pushy tonight, are we? Don't I at least get a drink and some foreplay first?" Chris inquired, sitting down on the end of the other couch and reaching for his bag.

"Shuddup and tell me what's up with our close-mouthed Abigail," JC told him dryly.

"That's what I'm trying to find out if you'd shut your yap," Chris retorted, flipping open his cell phone and dialing the number of the hotel.

JC looked over as the other members of the bus finally made their appearance. "Maybe you can explain this for me."

Joe sprawled on the floor. "Explain what?"

Justin and Lance exchanged glances. JC leaned forward, his curiosity and concern piqued.

"Well?"

They looked at Chris as he spoke to someone on the other end of the line, then fell silent, mouthing that he'd been put on hold and rolling his eyes.

"Abs left this morning with Max carrying Sunny. And she hasn't been back all day," Justin finally explained briefly, slumping down in front of the couch.

JC took a deep breath, leaning back and crossing his arms. "Well, crap," he muttered. "This is what you've been moping about all day?" He directed the question towards the two youngest members of the band.

"Are you kidding? Lance has been moping since last night," Joe observed.

Lance's eyes widened, and a blush warmed his cheeks. He glared mildly down at Joe, who stared back at him, raising his eyebrows innocently.

"Was not," was all he could come up with. His chest tightened oddly at the blatant lie. He had been moody and quiet for what little time he'd been awake after they'd left. They didn't need to know he'd tossed and turned all night, dogged with wondering if she was alright.

"That was lame, Lansten," Joey shook his head in mock disappointment. "And not at all convincing."

He groaned softly, slapping a hand to his forehead. "I'm not allowed to worry about the fact that I left..I mean, we left…" he trailed off.

JC eyed him knowingly. "That you left her? Because she's blind? Or because you like her?"

Lance slumped sown in his seat. "None of the above, not what you're talking about," he stated stubbornly.

JC rolled his eyes. Justin snickered. Lance shoved a knee in the younger man's back.

"Ow, jeez, Lance." Justin scooted away. "JC has a point. So does Joe. Why are you worried about her so much?"

Lance gritted his teeth, boring a hole through the floor of the bus with his eyes. "Yeah, they both have a point, on top of their heads," he mumbled, crossing his arms defensively and avoiding the question.

"I think he doth protest too much," Joe drawled.

"Quit quoting Shakespeare, superfreak," Lance retorted, then nudged Justin lightly in the side. "You're worried too, admit it. It's the same thing." No, it's not the little inner voice countered with a put-upon sigh. Quit being a butt-head, Lan-sten.

Justin shook his head, shrugging his shoulders. "Yeah, I'm worried," he admitted easily, rolling his neck to raise an eyebrow at his friend. "I liked her. She's a cool chick. Head's as hard as a rock, and she's got a tongue like a viper if she wants it. But like Joe said, in a rare moment of astuteness," Justin dodged the sofa pillow aimed at his head with ease, continuing, "It's a cover-up. She's lonely. And we can all understand being lonely. Though I think hers goes a lot deeper than ours. And you, my friend, are drawn to that."

Lance rolled his eyes, sitting forward to rest his elbows on his knees. "Profound, Curly, real profound," he mumbled.

"He's right. You have a weakness for hurt souls. You've been acting strangely since yesterday in the lobby. Whether you see it or not, you are drawn to her," JC spoke more softly as Chris started speaking into his cell phone.

"Just be careful not to fancy something else out of anything close to pity. Nothing will make a woman hate you faster," Joe advised dryly, pushing his hat around to rest backwards across his head.

"Thanks for the tip," Lance muttered, scrubbing at his face with his hands. "But I'm not 'fancying' anything, and I don't plan to. I just want to make sure she's alright," he repeated firmly.

"Uh-huh, tell us another one before that gets cold," Justin invited. Lance pretended to choke himself, too tired to deny anything else when he wasn't sure himself.

"If y'all are finished creating Lance's fictitious 'whatever' with Abs, I can relay some somewhat useful information," Chris broke in with a sigh.

"Which would be?" Lance asked before he could stop himself. He ignored the knowing looks.

Chris smirked, having kept tabs on the whole conversation. He sobered, beginning to tick off on his fingers. "One, Abs came back sometime early evening. It's a different clerk, but one guy still on shift remembers her. She came back alone." He paused, grimacing slightly, letting them digest that.

"Two, she hasn't been seen since."

"Three, I called the room. She isn't there. Cecile what's-her-face is. The cousin of the century. She hasn't heard from Abby. Hasn't seen her. Doesn't know where she is or was. And I quote "Abigail has always taken care of herself. She'll show up when she's ready" endquote."

JC grunted, lips twisting. "Must be wonderful to have family care about you that much."

"Brings a tear to the eye," Joe agreed darkly.

"The people at the hotel didn't know anything else?" Justin asked, twirling his water bottle absently from his fingers.

Chris shook his head. "Nup. Shift changes. And they were politely discouraging when I hinted about going and looking for her. All they know for sure is that she hasn't checked out."

Lonnie stuck his head in the door. "Ten minutes, guys."

JC raised his hand in acknowledgement. "Thanks, Lon."

Justin stared thoughtfully after their bodyguard's retreating back. "It's not very feasible for us to go out looking, but what about Lonnie and the others? Think they could poke around the hotel at least?"

"And if they find her? She doesn't know them," Joe pointed out.

"We could sneak out and check around."

All eyes turned to stare at JC in awe. "My God," Chris breathed, clutching his heart dramatically. JC shoved him off the couch and stood as the bus slowed.

"Not only is he volunteering to give up sleep, he's advocating rebellion," Justin breathed, gazing at JC with wide-eyed adoration. "You're my hero, man."

Joey nodded and sniffled, pretending to wipe a tear.

"Shut up."

"Did you ever know you were my heeerrroooo?" Chris sang tearfully, the others joining in. "You're everything I wish I could beeee…and I..I can fly higher than an eeeaaagle…but you..you are the wind beneath my wiiinngggsss…"

They began to sob.

JC slapped his forehead. "I can't believe my best friends are retards," he mumbled, dodging the sofa pillows that came sailing at his head.

Lance smiled faintly, slumping back on the couch with a sigh.

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

Justin flipped idly through the TV guide left on the table, glancing up casually as Lonnie stuck his head in, raising an eyebrow. "Still up?"

"Yeah, me and Joe are gonna watch the last half of a game before we crash."

Joey appeared in the bathroom doorway, toweling his hair. He waved. "Night, Lon."

"Night, boys. Don't stay up too late."

"I think you've been around JC too much; he's starting to rub off on you," Justin mocked.

"Remember that I can have hundreds of teenage girls up here within two minutes and crawling all over your overrated ass," Lonnie warned with a grin.

Justin grimaced. "That was harsh."

Lonnie waved. "The others are already sacked out. Don't get too loud."

They both saluted as Lonnie pulled the door around. Joe sank down on the couch as Justin surfed through the channels for several minutes.

"Is it time yet?"

Justin checked his watch. "Nup."

Ten more minutes.

"Now?"

"Yeah."

They quickly pulled sweatpants out of the couch cushions and slid them on. Justin went to the connecting door and knocked twice before grabbing his shoes and hat. Joe did the same.

Justin opened the front door to the room and gazed up and down the hall, eyeing the darkness under the doors occupied by their bodyguards and various other tour personnel occupying the same floor.

"Ready?"

"Yeah. Got everything?"

Joe affirmed.

"J-Dawg to Taco Man, we are clear to fly the coop, repeat, we are clear," Justin whispered loudly, looking up and down the hall furtively one last time.

The next door down swung open, and Chris saluted, then gestured. JC and Lance slithered down the hall with their backs plastered to the wall, carrying their shoes and hats, and punched the button for the elevator.

Justin waited until the arrow above the door lit up, then hissed, "Alright, Superfreak, let's move!"

He, Joe, and Chris scurried down the hall in time to catch the elevator. They all slipped inside with sighs of relief and hurriedly pulled their shoes on.

"Okay, everyone know the plan?" JC checked, pulling his hat firmly down around his ears.

Nods. Tugs to situate the hats.

"Phones?"

Five pockets were patted. Thumbs up. The doors slid open with a muffled ding at the lobby. Everyone but JC stepped out.

They saluted each other.

"Good luck, men," JC told them solemnly. "If for some reason you are unable to complete your missions, don't bother to make excuses for your pansy asses." He grinned as they all made rude gestures, the doors closing with a soft whoosh.

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

Justin quickly ducked behind a potted tree, avoiding the curious gaze of the girl standing with her mother as she arranged for a cab, airplane tickets clutched in her hand. Finally, they left, and he breathed a sigh of relief. They had hoped that the lateness of the hour would help conceal them, and it had for the most part. But that didn't mean it made finding Abs any easier.

He shook his head with a snort. One might think that finding one frail-looking blind female with a major attitude would be easy, but no. And it was terribly ironic that the one chick they wanted to find would most probably cuss them out for tracking her down. He rolled his eyes. Such is life. Always knew there was someone bigger laughing at me.

He stopped in the middle of the lobby and pivoted in a circle. "Abs, Abs, where are you?" he muttered to himself, racking his mind. If something had happened to Sunny, where would Abs go? She hadn't checked out, but she couldn't be found anywhere near her room.

He and the others had split up, Joe, Lance, and himself spreading out around the hotel to check the neighboring restaurants, Chris to find hotel employees and grill them, JC to wander the floors in search of her. He'd come back after hitting the boundary of three blocks. He'd been tempted to go further, but had known that he'd get reamed if anyone found out, so he'd come back.

Justin chewed on his lip, then turned his head as he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. A bellman strolled into the relatively empty lobby with another employee, gesticulating wildly. Justin frowned, straining to hear.

"…I don't think I've ever seen such a little gal put away so much Jack Daniel's without keeling over. Matthew took her back there on his shift, and she hasn't left since. Just sits there and throws them back."

Justin nearly leaped across the distance separating him from the two. The one who had spoken jerked back when Justin suddenly loomed in front of him.

"Uh, sir? Can I help you?"

Justin gestured impatiently. "This girl, she about this high? Black hair? Blind?"

The man nodded nervously, eyeing his tense frown. "Yes, sir."

"Where is she?"

"The hotel bar…" The man pointed, trailing off as Justin practically ran through the lobby.

He skidded to a halt as he nearly went past the unobtrusive doorway that announced the hotel restaurant and bar, then strode inside. He spotted her immediately, raising his eyebrows in disbelief as he counted the ten upside down shot glasses on the bar counter in front of her.

As he watched, she raised her finger again. Justin's lips tightened as the bartender immediately placed another shot of amber liquid in front of her, gazing at her warily. He snorted softly. He now had proof of how intimidating she could be.

His gaze landed on the shot glasses, then Abby as she tipped back the newest glass. Sympathy filled his eyes. And how much pain she must be in. He took a determined breath, pulling out his cell phone to alert the others. Then paused and slid the phone back into his pocket. He felt a little guilty, but felt the need to deal with her alone first.

He approached her cautiously until he stood less than two feet away at the bar counter himself, and examined her curiously. She wore her dark sunglasses so he couldn't see her eyes, but everything he could see looked awful. Her cheeks were flushed from the effects of alcohol, but she was deathly pale everywhere else, as if she'd been carved from stone. Her hair was messy, falling down from a haphazard pony-tail; her clothes were wrinkled, and looked vaguely familiar, so he assumed she'd either slept in her clothes or pulled the same ones on in a hurry that morning.

His nose wrinkled. And she reeked of alcohol.

Justin shook his head in mild awe. By all rights, she should have been falling off her ass drunk, but she remained perfectly still in her chair, appeared to barely be breathing as she calmly finished her drink and set the glass on the counter with relatively steady hands, flipping it over and lining it up unerringly with the others.

"What do you want, Justin?" her soft, toneless voice suddenly asked.

He froze, momentarily speechless with surprise. "How…?"

"Your cologne."

He eyed her warily. "Why are you here, Abs?" he countered.

"Because I have nowhere else to be."

He wondered at the odd inflection in her voice, probing shrewdly. "You could be with Sunny."

He saw her physically flinch before stilling again.

"Go away, Justin."

She signaled for another drink. Justin frowned, ignoring her order.

He shot the bartender a warning glance and shook his head firmly. The man hesitated and looked helplessly at Abby as she gestured impatiently. Justin glared meaningfully at the man.

"Miss Prentice, don't you think you've had enough?" the bartender tried tactfully.

Abby turned her head to pin the man with dark, glinting lenses. Then swiveled slowly to stare at Justin. He felt the back of his neck crawl, could have sworn she was looking directly at him.

"No, I don't. But I bet Mr. Timberlake has made that decision for me, correct? And thinks he can somehow be more convincing than I can?"

Justin flushed, lips tightening. "I think when I'm frightened to light a match anywhere within a five foot radius of you that you've had enough to drink, Abs," he told her roughly.

Abby's lips twisted sardonically. "I'll know when I've had enough to drink, youngun'."

"And when will that be? When you can't lift your finger to call for anymore because you're passed out cold on the floor?" he asked with frustration.

"No," she refused softly, turning back to the bar and reaching into her pocket. "When I know I won't come back."

Justin stared at her, wide-eyed, feeling sick to his stomach. What was she feeling to make that an option?

He snaked out a hand as she started to lay a hundred dollar bill on the bar for the bartender. "NO," he told her firmly. "You've had enough. Nothing can be bad enough to warrant this."

Abby went stiff as his hand closed over hers, and she yanked her hand away as if she'd been burned.

Justin took an unconscious step back as Abby turned deadly still on him. He looked down into her eyes, flashing pitch dark with fury, and took another.

"How would you know?" she hissed the demand, body vibrating with fury. "You don't know squat about my life, my feelings, what I go through on a daily basis to survive with my sanity intact. You don't have my nightmares…"

As suddenly as it appeared, the anger disappeared, as if wiped from a chalkboard slate. He watched her almost physical retreat, stunned. Just like that, she closed down, closed herself off.

"And you have a snowball's chance in Hell of understanding me," she finished softly, turning away. "Go home, superstar."

Justin shook his head slowly. "No," he told her softly, all the while wondering if he was doing the right thing. Then his gaze landed on the shot glasses. And the slight tremble in her hands as she fought to contain their shaking.

"Tell me, then," he invited as she remained stubbornly silent. "Make me understand."

Her delicate features twisted in some brief spasm of pained emotion. "Why? Why do you care? What do you want from me?"

And how terribly telling that final question was. Justin allowed himself a brief moment to pity Abby. Though he knew what it was like to be wanted only for what he was, he knew he was truly loved and cared about just for himself by the people he loved in return. Abby had no one. And whether he risked being cut off at the knees or not, she needed to realize that too.

"Because you need someone. You need a friend. People who will care about you. And me, all of us, we could be that, if you'd let us."

He held his breath, hoping that maybe the alcohol was working to his advantage at least a little bit and had mellowed her slightly.

Abby stared straight ahead for several long moments, and he thought she might ignore his offer entirely. Then he saw the barely perceptible motion of her throat working as she swallowed.

"I can't…" the soft refusal was barely audible, and he strained to make it out. Then she drew in a sharp, quick breath, visibly shielding herself. "I don't need anyone, youngun'. Haven't for a long time," her voice was cool and abrupt, but he'd already seen the near brush with softening.

Whether she knew or not, she needed someone. But she was so used to isolation that she would gladly give up the chance to end it to keep herself safe. His lips twisted as his stomach knotted, knowing what he was going to say next was cruel.

"What about Sunny?"

She went still as a statue, barely breathing. Her shoulders stiffened, and then hunched slightly.

"I don't need Sunny either," she stated softly. Her hands curled around the edge of the bar in a white-knuckled grip.

"That's bullcrap," he told her harshly, knowing he was risking violent reaction. "You wouldn't be here drinking yourself into oblivion if that dog didn't mean something to you. Whether you'll admit it or not, you love Sunny. And it's killing you on the inside knowing she's going to die. So you're trying to make it permanent. But it doesn't have to be like this…"

"Shut. Up." Her voice trembled slightly before she steadied it. Her breathing was odd, hitching in her throat. Confused pain flashed across her face before she could hide it. "You don't…" A shudder rippled down her frail frame.

Alarmed, he reached out, touching her hand, wanting to offer comfort. Guilt ate at him for what he was doing, but if she didn't start to react, she would emotionally cripple herself. He knew from experience you couldn't keep everything inside.

Abby inhaled sharply and jerked away as his fingers touched the back of her hand. "NO! I don't…"

"Why?" he interrupted softly. "Why do you always pull away? Abs…"

"Because everyone leaves!" she hissed, face crumpling. "No one can leave if you don't…I shouldn't…" Her lips came together as she cut herself off, and he saw the moment she began to reach for control.

He curled his much larger hand firmly around hers. "Abs."

She went stiff as a post, and he saw absolute fear cross her face before she wrenched her hand away. "Don't touch me!"

Justin flinched back slightly at the vehemence of her cry, ignoring the curious stares they were getting. He determinedly approached her again, crowding her.

Abby finally moved, lurching to her feet, throwing herself out of the barstool. Justin stopped for a brief moment, momentarily held with surprise. He watched warily as Abby froze with her back to him, standing oddly still, one hand clutching the bar.

A shiver ran down her length.

Then like a puppet whose strings had been abruptly severed, she slid without a sound towards the floor.

With a quick curse, he darted around the stool between one heartbeat and the next, barely in time to catch her before she crumpled to the floor. Justin wrapped an arm around Abby's waist, easily supporting her against his side as she hung against him limply, head lolling.

"Way to end the conversation with drama, Abs," he murmured wryly, shaking his head.

He sighed softly, reaching for her bag when he saw it at the foot of her stool, and slung it across his shoulder, then fumbled for his cell phone. He tapped it against his lip thoughtfully, then hit the speed dial.

"Yeah?"

"Lance, I found her." He sighed, shifting his grip as Abby's limp form slid slightly.

"Where?" The question was carefully neutral.

"Hotel bar. Drinking herself stupid. I don't know exactly what happened, but I can guess. She wasn't happy to see me."

There was a moment of silence.

"We could've guessed that too." There wasn't any humor in the statement. A short sigh. Justin knew he was running his fingers through his hair in agitation even without seeing him. "You calling the others, or shall I?"

"You. I'm going to have to get her back up to the room while she's out and can't fight me."

Another pause. "Will do. See you in a few."

The phone toned, and Justin hung up, a slight smile on his lips. Lance had been distinctly uncommunicative. A good sign.