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Curses, Crunked Again! by Kittie

Chapter 10: Neat Little Package
(The epilogue-type thing)

Chris came awake with a gasp, sitting bolt upright in bed and only barely holding in an anguished scream. Someone's arms were around him, and it took him a few moments to realize it was Justin, still half asleep, mumbling comforting words into his shoulder. He struggled to slow his breathing, wiping away the cold sweat on his forehead and leaning into Justin's touch. It was the same dream he'd been having ever since the fateful explosion at Julian Brummel's laboratory. He could still hear the agonized screams of the Backstreet Boys in the back of his head, see their bodies burned beyond recognition, the accusing words of the press and the fans ringing in his ears.

"Go back to sleep, it's okay," Justin was murmuring, his body slowly falling down onto the pillow.

Chris smiled a bit despite himself. This was the fifth time tonight he'd awakened Justin with one of his nightmares, and each time the younger man's efforts to calm him down grew more and more halfhearted. "It's okay, Jup, I'm sorry," he whispered, slipping out of Justin's arms. "Just go back to sleep."

"Mmmm, 'kay," Justin sighed, snuggling down into the covers. He was fast asleep again in seconds.

Chris watched him sleep for a while, his hand resting absently on Justin's shoulder where it peeked out from under the covers. Justin seemed to have taken it as his responsibility to help Chris work through his issues, probably since Chris had been so understanding after the mess at the power plant. Being in this house didn't help; it was so much like the first time they'd come here, shocked and weary after the unsatisfying resolution to Keith Archer's insane schemes. Chris had done his best to help Justin through it despite his own difficulties, and obviously his efforts had been appreciated. He only wished it didn't affect Justin's sleep patterns so much.

He slipped out of the room as quietly as he could, hoping that Justin's sleep was deep enough that he wouldn't be disturbed by the noise. The house was absolutely dark and silent; no one in their right minds would be up at this time of the night. Chris smirked at himself. No one had ever accused him of being in his right mind.

He went downstairs and out onto the porch where he stared into the front yard for a long time. The moon was bright and full, casting a soft glow over the trees. The night was calm and peaceful, a direct contrast to his troubled mind. He knew in his heart that the dream was just that—a dream. It wasn't real. He hadn't heard any screams, hadn't seen any burnt and disfigured bodies, hadn't been verbally crucified by press and fans; but it all felt so real. He'd had no business playing God with their lives, even if they had agreed to it. In his mind, what he'd done made him no better than Julian Brummel.

He stood there until his legs started to cramp up and then took a seat on the bench, curling up with his feet folded up beneath this thighs. JC had left a blanket across the back of the bench, and he pulled it over his body, cutting out the worst of the early morning chill. He was so tired, but didn't dare to go back to sleep again. The nightmares just seemed to get worse every time.

The guys had all tried to help him through it. Lance used words as his weapon, telling Chris time and time again that he'd done all he could and it was simply illogical to blame himself. It was over, what was done was done. They'd been pardoned by the FBI; Justin had been cleared of any wrongdoing in Keith's death; Peter Harmon, Julian Brummel and his team of scientists, Dr. Pollock, and all fifty mercenaries were behind bars; the FBI was considering giving the group a formal commendation; and Captain Taggart had actually welcomed them back to Meadowview with a smile and a handshake. None of that really helped, but he appreciated the attempt.

Joey and JC used touch. JC would turn into a cat and curl up on Chris' lap, purring and butting Chris' hand with his head to keep the caresses coming. And he'd talk a little, too, mostly about weird JC-things that didn't make sense to anyone in the world but him. Chris had to smile a little, remembering what JC had said just that afternoon. "Chris," he'd asked, looking a trifle embarrassed, "Does it still count as bestiality if you're a cat at the time?" Chris had laughed so hard he'd knocked JC right off his lap, and the affronted animal had hissed at him before darting into the yard and out of sight. He hadn't seen JC since.

Joey would come up behind him and just hug him for no reason. Joey gave the best hugs in the whole damn world, and Chris was willing to lay bets on the accuracy of that statement. They were neither too hard or too soft, too short or too long, to familiar or too distant. If Joey could market them, he'd make more money in a week than Bill Gates made in a year. Oh yeah. Joey-hugs were the way to go, even if they didn't serve to ease his troubled mind.

And finally, Justin. Justin, who had taken to sharing a room with him despite the fact that it meant he himself got little to no sleep at nights. Justin, who followed him around the house like a puppy, always wanting to do something together like play video games, or ride their motorcycles, or just hang out and watch movies. Justin, who never judged him harshly no matter what he said or did. Chris thought about calling his mother and asking her to adopt Justin, just so they could be brothers for real. Which was a stupid idea, and wouldn't work anyway, because Justin already had a mother, but oh well, wasn't it the thought that counted?

Chris glanced down at his watch. 4:48 am. He'd managed to kill almost an hour, anyway, with his rambling thoughts. He looked back out at the yard, squinting a little when he saw a small, sleek form emerge from the woods. Luminous blue eyes met his and he smirked a little. JC. Back from his midnight rendezvous with a pretty lady.

The cat hissed a little bit, though halfheartedly, and hesitated before slowly approaching the porch, his eyes wary. He took a seat at the foot of the steps and glared up at Chris. "I didn't do anything, you know," he said sullenly.

"Really?" Chris asked, aware that his smirk would only serve to embarrass and anger JC but unable to remove it from his face.

"Yes, really," JC answered, hissing again. "It was just a... hypothetical question. No, existential. Not even hypothetical."

"Uh-huh. So, what were you doing out there?"

If it were at all possible for cats to blush, JC would have done it. "Oh, well.... There's this cat, see, and she has... kind of... a crush on me."

Chris bit his lip to keep from laughing. "Oh, I see."

"I went to let her down easy, but she didn't believe me. I had to turn back into a person to prove it, and that scared her, so now I don't know where she is."

Chris' smile faded at that. JC was really upset about it. He hated hurting anybody, and this female cat was no exception. "Hey, I'm sorry, Jayce, I shouldn't have laughed at you. Maybe she just needs time, you know?"

JC sighed. "Yeah, maybe." He climbed up the steps and leapt up onto the bench, curling up next to Chris, obviously accepting the apology. "So, what are you doing up? More nightmares?"

Chris put a hand on JC's head and started stroking it slowly. "Yeah. Five tonight. Poor Justin's about had it."

"You really should talk to them about it," JC advised, snuggling up a bit closer to him and starting to purr slightly. "I think it'd help if you got it off your chest."

Chris made a face. "I dunno, Jayce, I don't exactly relish having a heart to heart with Kevin, you know?"

"So have one with Brian, or Howie. You're okay with them, aren't you?"

Chris shrugged. "I guess. Howie, maybe."

"Right, so talk to him." JC put his head down on his paws and closed his eyes. "I bet he'll tell you the same thing we've been telling you all along. You didn't do anything wrong, and it all turned out alright anyway. They're alive and well, their powers are stable, everybody's happy."

"All wrapped up in a neat little package," Chris muttered, still troubled. "It's not that easy."

"I know." JC yawned widely, already relaxing into sleep. "But it should be."

Chris was still thinking about that a couple of hours later when the sun came up.

~*~

"Whoa, dude!" AJ rubbed his eyes when he came into the kitchen, taking in the huge spread of food in amazement. "When the hell did you find the time to cook all this food?"

Chris grinned over at him as he flipped another pancake. "This morning. Was in here cooking at, like, 7:30."

"Man...." AJ reached out to snag a piece of bacon and yelped when Chris smacked his hand away. "Hey!"

"You'll just have to wait. Nobody eats until I'm done."

"Are you sure?" AJ smirked and lowered his sunglasses, directing an intense stare at Chris. "Cuz I think you maybe want to let me dip in—"

"Don't you dare use those eyes on me, McLean," Chris warned without looking up. "I will burn your ass."

AJ tried for a look of affronted innocence and almost succeeded. "I am shocked and dismayed that you would even suggest such a thing!"

"Uh-huh. Get out."

AJ laughed as he headed back out into the living room, passing Howie on the way.

"Mmm, smells good," he said, inhaling deeply. "I didn't know you could cook."

"Can't," Chris answered, suddenly feeling a little nervous. "I'm still learning. But I think this is alright."

"I'm sure it's fine." Howie opened the refrigerator and poured himself a glass of orange juice. "Need any help?"

"Nah, I got it." Chris deftly removed a few sticks of bacon from the pan and deposited them on a plate which he slid into the oven to keep warm. "But let me tell you, having super speed really helps when you're cooking bacon and pancakes at the same time."

"I'll bet." Howie sipped at his juice and regarded him seriously. "So, what's on your mind?"

Chris looked over at him sharply. "Who says something's on my mind?"

"Brian." Howie grinned knowingly. "He said you needed to talk to me."

Chris grimaced, frowning a little. "That boy is spooky."

"Thanks," Brian called from the living room, causing Chris to blush furiously and Howie to laugh out loud.

"Damn, I hate when he does that!"

"He's got spiritual spies everywhere, man," Howie giggled. "No one is safe from his scrutiny."

"Yeah. Um, anyway...." Chris glanced out into the living room and saw both JC and Brian watching him knowingly, the others all gathered around the television set, noisily watching the Ricki Lake show. Lance glanced over too, and gave him a reassuring smile. He smiled back, nodding slightly, and the three turned their attention back to the television.

"Okay, so, um, yeah.... I needed to talk to you, Howie...."

End


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Email: kittie.verdena@gmail.com