Chapter 1: No More
(In which Chris wishes he could fly. Symbolically.)

"Everyone get your hands in the air!"

Lance froze in disbelief as four men in ski masks, wielding automatic weapons, burst into the McDonald's where he and Lonnie had stopped to get lunch for the rest of the guys. Beside him, the bodyguard stiffened and placed a meaty hand on his back.

"Down! Down on the ground, now!"

Too shocked to even think about doing anything else, Lance obeyed, burying his face in his arms as screams and sobs quickly filled the air. Of course, of course, the first time in a week that he'd ventured off the grounds of their rented estate, he'd get caught in a stick-up. His mind churned. Why hadn't he foreseen this? Some psychic he was. What good was it being a superhero if he couldn't prevent things like this?

"You, up! Get up!" Lance heard a terrified feminine yelp as someone was yanked to their feet. "Take this bag. Take it! I want all of the wallets and jewelry in this room, you hear me? Everything! Do it fast, or I'll blow your head off."

Lance gulped. He had to do something before these goons decided to shoot somebody. He screwed his eyes shut and tried to see with his mind. He couldn't do anything blinded like this, and if he moved to look around, they were liable to shoot him.

"SHUT UP!" The noise level went down immediately, but one child kept right on screaming. "Shut that kid up right now, or I'll shut him up myself!"

Lance shuddered, praying frantically. Please, kid, shut up shut up shut up shut up.... He let out a long, relieved breath as the child's screams slowly quieted to whimpers.

He concentrated, straining his mind to see what was going on. Finally, he felt it. A tingling, then a disconnected sensation, and he was seeing the McDonald's as though he was floating just below the ceiling. The four men were spread all around the room. One was guarding the door, another was covering the crowd on the floor, a third was menacing the terrified clerks as they hurriedly shoved bills and coins into paper bags, and the fourth, the spokesman, held his gun on the young woman collecting valuables from the other patrons.

Suddenly, one of the clerks dropped a bag, sending a cascade of coins rolling across the floor. As she quickly bent to gather them, the man nearest her aimed his gun and began to pull back the trigger.

Lance's mind flexed.

The men's ski masks all flew off at once and their guns were wrenched from their hands by an unseen force that forced them to their knees on the floor, yanking their hands back behind their heads. They all let out pained cries, their eyes widening in shock and surprise. Lonnie immediately leapt up, gathering the guns and throwing them safely behind the service counters.

Lance's awareness snapped back into focus and the scene from above vanished, replaced once again by the darkness behind his closed eyelids. Shakily, he opened his eyes and sat up, removing his baseball cap and wiping away the sweat that had beaded on his forehead. Next to him, someone gasped. "It's you!"

Too late, he remembered why he'd been wearing the cap in the first place and glanced down at the sunglasses that had fallen off his face, lying open and useless on the floor. Lonnie was back at his side in an instant.

"You okay, kid? Jesus, that was...." He scrubbed a shaking hand over his face and put an arm around his shoulder, hugging him gently. "Nice job."

"I called the police...." A middle-aged businesswoman slowly closed her cellphone, staring at him in wonder. "They're already on their way. Somebody pulled a silent alarm."

They were all staring at him, every single one of them. Many had tears streaming down their faces in an obscene parody of the reactions the group often got from overwhelmed fans.

"Can we...." Lance cleared his throat and leaned a little closer to Lonnie. "Can we leave? Please?"

Lonnie shook his head reluctantly. "Sorry, kid. The police'll want to talk to you."

Lance slumped back down to the floor. The robbers were glaring at him, still frozen in painfully awkward positions.

"I...." A young mother gathered her child close, and he recognized the screaming boy—the one the robber had threatened to shoot. "Thank you. Thank you so much."

"Thank God for you," someone else breathed, and suddenly they were all thanking him, their voices a jumbled murmur of nonsense syllables filling the room.

Lance lowered his chin to his chest and closed his eyes, unable to speak. Lonnie placed a cellphone in his hand and curled his fingers around it. "Call Chris."

~*~

Chris burst into the McDonald's as abruptly as the robbers had. He was at Lance's side in an instant, gathering him into a tight hug. "Oh God, Lance.... Jesus Christ...."

The others reached them moments later and gathered around him, all reaching out just to touch him. "Are you okay?" JC's eyes were bright and watery, and Justin and Joey's eyes were red. Lance couldn't see Chris, whose face was buried in his shoulder.

"I'm okay."

Captain Taggart scowled at them, stepping back to where he'd been before Chris had shoved him away. "Do you mind? I'm trying to conduct an investigation, here."

"Hi, Cap'n Taggart," Joey said, smiling weakly. "How ya been?"

"I was fine until now. Why is it that every time I get a call like this, you weirdos are in the middle of it?"

"You're the one who wouldn't let us leave town," Justin snapped, and JC placed a calming hand on his shoulder.

"Shush, Justin. He's just doing his job."

"You look pale." Chris had finally pulled back and was studying Lance desperately. His eyes were red, too. "You're still shaking, Lance! God...." He turned to Captain Taggart, his formerly cocky way of speaking to the officer replaced by a childlike pleading tone. "Can't you question him later?"

Taggart's face softened just a bit. "Sorry, Kirkpatrick. We gotta question everyone in here, but he and Lonnie are the first people I went to. Soon as I finish with them, you can leave."

Chris nodded, calming a little. "Okay. God, Lance...."

Taggart shook his head slightly.

The gruff man had developed a soft spot for Chris, who seemed a lot more vulnerable since the kidnapping and the subsequent mess at the power plant. Lance thought the man may actually have changed his views on all of them, though he normally refused to show it. He had forbade them to leave town until the investigation into Keith's death had been completed, but Keith had not won any fans by kidnapping an innocent child. Though he'd ultimately set little Alicia Dennis free unharmed, Joey's extensive injuries and the extraordinary amount of Chris's blood left at the scene had painted a pretty convincing picture of a killing in self-defense. Certainly, none of them would ever tell the authorities otherwise.

News coverage of their battle had been intense, with speculations flying. No one had believed them at first, that Chris had actually died, but once CNN began airing pictures of his shredded and bloody shirt, along with the stained metal spike and the large puddle of blood left on the warehouse floor, people began changing their minds. Then, once the blood tests confirmed that the blood had indeed come from Chris, all doubts were gone. No one could have lost that much of it and lived.

Chris himself had broken the news first in an impromptu press conference at the hospital while they waited for Joey's final discharge papers. Reporters had swarmed the waiting room, shouting questions and pressing too close, and Chris had mumbled a terse statement, "Joey got beat up pretty bad and I sort of... well, died, a little, but that's over with, so leave us alone."

The destroyed power plant itself had been razed, and the group was donating much of the necessary funds to rebuild it. That, too, had given Taggart a reason not to hate them quite as much, even if their very presence in his town seemed to cause chaos.

Lance answered the man's questions quietly and concisely, all four of his friends clinging to him protectively. Taggart and his men finished with them relatively quickly. "Okay, Bass, you can go. I'll contact you if I need any other information. You know the drill—"

"Don't leave town," the five of them chorused wearily.

Taggart cracked a tiny smile. "Right."

~*~

Joey was rubbing his back. Lance sighed and leaned back, letting his eyes slide closed. He felt wrung out, as though all of the energy had been sucked from him. His heart was racing and stuttering.

"You really okay?" Joey asked quietly, his hand warm between Lance's shoulderblades.

"Yeah," he answered, his voice thick. "Tired."

"I'm still hungry," Justin admitted, reminding all of them that they'd never actually gotten to eat.

Joey chuckled. "Pizza it is, then."

"Delivery," JC agreed.

"We are never leaving this house, ever again," Justin decided forcefully, only half-joking.

Chris missed the point. "No," he mumbled quietly, sounding decades too young. "Wanna go home."

Lance felt Joey's hand go stiff and still on his back.

~*~

Chris was singing.

That was a surprise, since he hadn't really done that since before... well, before his death. It wasn't one of their songs, though, or anything that Justin recognized at all. It was slow and sad, and he thought he may have heard Chris hum the tune before, while he was cooking, or just staring out the windows into the sky. He extended his hearing and listened to Chris's clear, high voice.

Out among the stars I sail
Way beyond the moon
In my silver ship I sail
The dream it ended too soon
Now I know exactly who I am and what I'm here for
And I will go sailing no more

All the things I thought I knew
All the brave things I've done
Vanished like a snowflake
With the rising of the sun
Never more to sail my ship where no man has gone before
And I will go sailing no more....**

"Oh, God...." Justin felt his own eyes fill as Chris's voice broke and trailed off, his throat choked with tears.

"Justin?" JC stood next to him, blue eyes concerned. Justin hadn't even heard his approach. "What's wrong?"

Justin sniffled and pulled JC away from Chris's closed door. "He's hurting, Jayce, and I don't know how to help him. He's still blaming himself. And I think Lance is sick, he's still so pale; and you stopped eating again and you think nobody's noticed but we have, and...." He choked, unable to continue. "Jesus, Jayce, we're all so fucked up!"

JC flushed and ducked his head. "Oh. I..." He sighed. "I'm sorry, Justin. I'm just not hungry, is all. And Lance... yeah, he's looking kinda shaky, but... we just need time, Justin. We went through some pretty whacked-out stuff—"

"I know that! I killed a man, JC, remember? Don't you think maybe I'm a little screwy, too? I thought we were getting better, didn't you? We were talking, and even laughing sometimes, but really we're not better at all, and we're not talking anymore...." He was gasping for breath, sobbing by now, the words tripping over one another to come out, and Justin dimly realized that he was on the floor, huddled in JC's arms, and Chris and Joey and Lance were there, all of them murmuring, "Sorry, so sorry," over and over again, and they were crying too. He struggled to catch his breath, clinging to them.

"Man, are we a pathetic bunch, or what?" Joey said, and they all chuckled a little, pulling apart and wiping their eyes.

Justin heard a discreet sniffle from just around the corner. "Lonnie and 'Dre and the rest of the guys are down the hall," he told them. "They're pretty pathetic, too."

"They care about us," Joey reminded him. "We're lucky to have them."

"Yeah...." Justin kept his eyes down, his fingers idly picking at the carpet. "So, I was kinda yelling, huh?"

"Me and Joey were down in the kitchen," Lance answered. "But it's okay, we needed to hear it."

"You were listening to me, weren't you?" Chris asked Justin quietly, his dark eyes unreadable.

Justin nodded guiltily, unable to look him in the face. "I'm sorry, Chris. I shouldn't have done that. You deserve your privacy."

"So why did you?"

"It was an accident, at first. I heard you humming and I knew you'd hummed it before, but I didn't know what it was. And when you started singing, I just... listened. I'm sorry."

Chris nodded. "I know. S'okay."

"We, uh...." JC cleared his throat. "We haven't heard you sing in a while."

"What was it?" Justin asked, somewhat shyly. "It... it was so sad...."

Chris smiled humorlessly. "It's from Toy Story. It just... fit, is all."

"Will you sing it again? For the rest of us?" JC's voice was soft and hesitant, as though he was afraid of Chris's response.

Chris didn't answer for a long moment, staring down at the floor. Finally, he sighed and began to sing. Their eyes all filled once again with tears as they listened. It was fitting. It was longer than the version Justin had heard before, with an extra verse at the end.

No! It can't be true
I could fly if I wanted to
Like a bird in the sky, I believe I can fly
Why, I'll fly

...

Clearly...
I will go sailing no more....

"It's symbolic," Chris said, needlessly, into the silence that followed.

"But you can fly, Chris," Justin sniffled tearfully. "Symbolically."

Chris looked away. "Yeah, maybe."

~*~

Lance sent Lonnie out to rent Toy Story and they all watched it together that very night, crying unashamedly during the scene when Buzz Lightyear finally realizes that he is just a toy and can't really fly, with Chris's song playing longingly in the background. "You sang it better," JC informed him seriously, once his throat opened up and he could speak again.

"Yeah," Chris agreed, not bothering with false modesty.

"I don't want that to be our theme song." Lance stared around at them with liquid eyes. "We can't go out like that."

"We won't." Joey's voice was hard and determined. "We're down, but don't count us out, yet. We'll make it; we'll write our own theme song."

"Um, Joey, the last time we wrote a song, it was 'Giddy Up,'" JC pointed out.

"Ride it, ride it, ride it!" Justin, Joey, and Lance all cried it out in unison, sending themselves into helpless giggles.

Chris smirked. "Shut up, that's a great song."

"See?" 'Dre grinned at them. "Y'all will be just fine. Now be quiet and watch the movie."

~*~

"Sir? We're almost ready to test."

"Good, good. And the subjects?"

"Should be arriving in town any day now. Their tour is just ending."

"Perfect. I'll make arrangements for them to be delivered to you as soon as possible. Get everything ready."

"Yes, sir."

"Five superheroes on the label was big news, but ten? That will be... epic."

"Yes, sir."

** Listen to "I Will Go Sailing No More" in mp3 format. 3.3MB (back to story)

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