Chapter 2: This One Time? At Superhero Camp?
(Joey can't spell and Lance makes a pretty girl)

Lance woke up to the sounds of shouts and laughter outside his window. He kept his eyes closed and just stretched, burrowing deeper into the covers and waiting for the sleep-fog to clear from his brain. As he slowly became more alert, the smell of coffee reached his nose and caused his stomach to rumble. With a contented sigh, he turned his head and opened his eyes to peer at the bedside clock. 10:07 am. They had let him sleep in.

He sat up slowly, stretching again. They were worried about him, he could tell. He hadn't noticed how pale he'd gotten, but once Justin pointed it out, it became pretty obvious. He didn't feel sick, though. Maybe a little weak and easily tired-out, but not sick. He shrugged as he shuffled toward the bathroom. Oh well. Maybe he just needed more sleep.

Teeth brushed, freshly showered and dressed, he headed downstairs to grab a cup of coffee. Joey had left a note taped to the pot: OMLET IN THE MICROWAVE. EAT UP. Chris had written below it: HAHA, JOEY CAN'T SPELL OMELET! To which Joey had responded: BITE ME. (NOT YOU LANCE).

He laughed out loud and checked the temperature of his breakfast before setting the microwave to reheat it. Nursing a cup of semi-freshly brewed coffee, he wandered over to the large bay windows and peered outside, wondering what they were all doing out there to be laughing and cheering so loudly.

He had to laugh himself when he saw the reason. Chris was playing catch -- with himself. Joey, Justin, JC, and the bodyguards were clapping and cheering him on as he raced back and forth, catching his own erratic tosses.

The microwave dinged its completion and Lance got himself a small tray so he could eat on the porch without making a mess.

"Mornin', Lance," Justin called to him as he stepped outside. "Sleep well?"

"Yup." He took a seat on one of the benches, not bothering to raise his voice. "You guys look like you're having fun."

"We are." Justin broke away from the others and jogged up to the porch. "Later, we're gonna play softball. Everybody vs. Chris. I bet he'll win, too."

"Looking at him now, I'd have to agree." Lance took a bite of his omelet. "Oh, wow, this is good! Who made it?"

"'Dre did. It's his momma's secret recipe." He turned and yelled to the large man. "Yo, 'Dre! Lance likes your omelet!"

'Dre grinned and gave them a thumbs up.

Chris suddenly appeared just in front of them, catching a haphazard throw with one hand. "Hi."

Lance blinked in surprise. "Hi."

Chris tossed the softball over his shoulder, completely missing it as JC turned himself into a golden retriever and leapt up to catch it neatly in his mouth. "You feelin' okay?" Chris's brown eyes narrowed, staring intently at him. Lance fidgeted under the force of it.

"Sure. I feel fine."

"You wanna join us when you finish eating? We're training."

"Training?"

"Yeah." Joey came up to join them, leaving JC to play fetch with the bodyguards. "We figure if we're stuck with these powers, which we probably are, we might as well make the best of 'em. We'll figure out our strengths and weaknesses, practice so we can use 'em to the best of our ability, and, you know, just... train."

"It's like superhero camp," Justin clarified.

"This one time? At superhero camp...?" Chris began, quite predictably. Justin swatted him.

Lance chuckled lowly. "Sure, I'll train with you. Sounds like fun."

"Great." Chris patted him awkwardly on the shoulder. "Just take it easy, okay? Don't overwork yourself. We've got time." And he was gone, back in the middle of the yard, snatching the ball from JC, who began to bark furiously, jumping up and down in a futile attempt to get it back.

"Those two are already getting plenty of training," Joey observed. "Weirdos."

Lance had to agree.

~*~

"Gin!" Brian Littrel slammed his hand of cards down gleefully, grinning around at his friends and groupmates.

"Brian...." Kevin Richardson sighed and rolled his eyes. "We're playing poker."

AJ McLean smirked at them from his spot on the couch, where he sat watching the trees fly by outside the window of their tour bus. "C'mon, Bri, quit teasing Kevin and just play. He ain't in the mood for your idea of humor."

"Yeah, yeah." Brian picked his cards back up and studied them intently before showing them to Nick, who was seated beside him. "What do you think? Play or fold?"

Nick considered for a moment, glancing back at his own hand. "Um... fold."

"Okay." Brian threw in two cards.

Nick pouted at him. "Thanks a lot, Frick."

"No prob." Brian was already studying his new hand, not paying him any mind at all.

Nick twisted around and draped himself over the back of his chair. "AJ, I don't want to play anymore. Come take my spot."

AJ shook his head. "No way, you're losin' too bad. Call me when you've got a better hand."

"But I've got a full house!"

Brian quickly threw down his cards again. "On second thought, I fold."

"Me too," Howie Dorough agreed. "Two pair."

"Dammit!" Kevin threw his hands in the air in frustration. "I woulda actually won this hand!"

Nick grinned sheepishly as Brian and Howie struggled not to laugh. "Oops?"

Kevin glared at him. "Get out of here. AJ, come play."

"Yes sir, Mr. Richardson, sir," AJ drawled, rolling off the couch and ambling over to the table.

"C'mon, Nick," Brian said, placing a hand on his best friend's shoulder. "I'll play a few games with you on the Playstation."

Kevin sighed, burying his face in his hands as the two friends hurried to the game console and Howie began to deal a new hand. "I'm too old for this."

AJ snorted. "Oh, please. You're just tired, we all are. Don't worry, we'll be home soon, and you can snuggle up to Kristen and just relax. Three whole weeks, Train."

"Man, am I looking forward to this break," Howie agreed, studying his cards with what he mistakenly thought was a flawless poker-face. "It's been one heck of a tour."

"But a good one, thank God," Kevin put in, his own poker-face beyond perfect.

"I still can't get over how big we are," Brian added without removing his gaze from the game he was playing with Nick. "Those crowds were incredible!"

"Yeah, there's that." Kevin allowed himself a quick smile. "We're pretty lucky, all-in-all. I'm not complainin'."

"Gin," Howie grinned, causing AJ to burst out laughing.

Even Kevin had to smile as he put his cards down and stretched. "Guess we're done playin' poker. Just as well, I had a crappy hand."

AJ lay his cards down face up. "Royal flush." Howie handed over a pile of money. Kevin ignored him. "C'mon, Train, pay up. You folded."

Kevin had just opened his mouth to retort when the bus lurched violently in a squeal of brakes, sending him crashing to the floor. Nick yelped as he and Brian were sent tumbling into the couch, and both AJ and Howie were thrown from their seats. The bus slid to a quick stop and everything was still.

"Ouch...." Kevin sat up slowly, rubbing his forehead. "Everybody okay?"

Before any of them could answer, one of the windows burst inward in a shower of glass and a gun was shoved inside, pointing directly at him.

"Mr. Richardson." The masked man holding the weapon nodded politely. "If you and your friends would kindly accompany us to our van?"

~*~

"Collie!"

"Leopard!"

"Phone booth!"

"Space heater!"

Lance watched in amusement and a good bit of admiration as JC ran through the drill Chris has devised. Each member of the group and all of the bodyguards were yelling out random animals and objects as quickly as they could, and JC was turning himself into each one. He had even managed things that didn't actually exist, such as, "Dragon. No, not a kimono, the mythical kind!" and "Unicorn." The only rule was that they had to take turns and do it in an orderly fashion, since JC simply could not be more than one thing at once.

"Uh... cellphone," Lance said when his turn came around, and JC obliged him easily.

Chris grinned evilly. "Lance. If he was a girl."

Lance's mouth dropped open as JC first turned into an exact copy of him, then slowly developed breasts and rounded hips. The face changed only slightly, the cheekbones moving up higher, the chin becoming softer, and the facial hair disappearing. Finally, his hair lengthened into a stylish dirty-blond bob.

Joey whistled appreciatively. "Wow, Lance, you make a pretty girl."

Lance felt himself blush. "Shut up."

JC put his feminine hands on his hips and pouted. "Come on, hurry up. I feel weird." His voice was a soft alto with a slight southern accent. Chris hooted with laughter.

"I think you should stay like that," Joey winked. "Look at Lance blush!"

"Bookshelf," Lance said quickly, out-of-turn.

They had all played Hide and Seek as an earlier attempt at training. JC was a master at hiding, for obvious reasons. Chris, Justin and Lance had the most luck at being "it." Chris would simply ask the animals where everyone was and, for the most part, they were happy to tattle. Squirrels, Chris said, were particularly happy to rat people out. Justin's sharp eyes could catch any involuntary movement, and his ears picked up heartbeats. Human heartbeats were so different from the animals' that he could just walk right up to those who were hiding and tag them. Joey didn't get as much out of it as the rest of them. He was able to fly above the yard and look for them that way, but there were so many trees that it wasn't as effective as it might have been. Not to mention it didn't help at all when it came to finding JC.

As for himself, Lance used his psychic abilities to "feel" where people were. Either they were nearby or they weren't, so he just followed the vibe until he was right on top of them. He had noticed after the power plant that each of his friends "felt" different. The energy that had flowed through him as they frantically worked to heal Chris was the same thing he felt when he went looking for them. Chris was warmth, intelligence, and laughter. JC was passion, intensity, and melody. Justin was youth and arrogance tempered by a basic down-to-earth nature. As for Joey, he couldn't describe him as anything other than cuddly. And flirty. Lance hoped to God that Joey never asked him what his vibe felt like, because he'd never be able to explain it without blushing.

He suddenly realized that the game had gone on without him. Apparently, they were used to him spacing out on occasion and had just carried on as usual. JC was currently a folding chair, and Joey was doing a wildly exaggerated version of the Backstreet Boys' chair-dance with him.

The flash hit without warning.

Danger.

Backstreet.

Guns.

Pain.

Danger...!

He didn't even feel it when he hit the ground.

~*~

"What, um...."

Brian Littrell snapped out of his daze and looked up from the floor when Nick spoke, breaking the almost tomb-like silence in their windowless prison.

"What do you think they want? With us?"

AJ McLean scowled angrily, picking at a frayed spot on his jeans. "Man, who knows? Money, probably."

"Somebody planned it pretty carefully," Howie pointed out, his voice soft. "Those were hired men. I don't think whoever did this really needs any money."

It was true. It had been a smooth and flawless operation right from the start. They had been escorted from their bus at gunpoint by several masked men, leaving their driver and other crew behind. They were assured as they were blindfolded and herded into a nondescript white van that as long as everyone cooperated, no one would be hurt. After a forty-five minute ride, the van stopped and they were led, still blindfolded, into a building and around several corners until they had reached this room. The hands guiding them had vanished and they were told to stay put. Morbidly aware of the guns the men still held, they obeyed. Only after the door had clicked shut and locked did they head a voice coming through a speaker somewhere in the room. "You may remove the blindfolds," the voice said.

The room was large and practically empty, the only furniture a small sink and urinal tucked away in one corner of the room. There were identical vents on each of the walls near the floor, barred and screwed tightly shut, and a large mirror on the wall across from the door. A two-way, Howie said. They were probably being watched. They had been in here for over two hours, now, with no other sound from their captives.

Brian sighed, leaning his head back against the wall and tapping his foot impatiently, his entire body humming with nervousness and fear. "I dunno what they want, Frack. I guess we just gotta wait and see."

"Man, I'm tired of waitin'!" AJ leapt to his feet and pounded on the mirror. "Hey, you! What gives?"

Howie quickly grabbed him and pulled him back down to the floor. "Cool it, Bone, no need to make them mad, okay?"

"Kevin?" Nick turned to his oldest friend, needing the calm reassurance he knew he could get from the level-headed father-figure of the group. "Just tell me we'll be alright."

Kevin, who had been staring quietly at the ceiling, slowly brought his head down and looked at Nick blearily. "What?"

Brian looked sharply at him, crawling over to him on his hands and knees. "Kevin?" He cupped Kevin's chin in his hand and studied his face carefully. His cousin's normally vibrant green eyes were dulled and full of pain. "You don't look so good, cuz."

"Don't feel so good," Kevin slurred back, sounding as though his tongue was too big for his mouth.

The others quickly crowded around them, immediately concerned. "What hurts?" Howie asked, placing a hand on Kevin's clammy forehead.

"Stomach. Head. Evr'thing."

AJ was at the mirror again in an instant. "Yo, he's sick! Hey, you hear me? Kevin's sick, what're you gonna do about it?"

There was no answer from their mysterious captors. AJ growled in frustration and kicked savagely at the wall. "Dammit!"

Brian took Kevin's hand in his and tried to ignore his growing unease.

~*~

Before Lance even opened his eyes, he knew he was in a hospital. There was a beeping sound to his left that he recognized as a heart monitor, the air smelled stale and medicinal, and an experimental movement of his arm revealed that he was hooked up to an I.V. He could feel his friends nearby, their auras clouded by worry and fear. Justin, apparently having seen his arm move, was immediately by his side. "Lance? Lance, can you hear me?"

Lance opened his eyes slowly, letting them acclimate to the bright fluorescent lights. "Hi."

His friends crowded around the bed, pushing each other aside trying to get as close to him as possible. Joey easily shouldered himself to the front. "Man, Lance, you scared us! You just went down, like, bam!"

JC elbowed Joey in the side. "How do you feel? Considering?"

Lance thought about that. "Okay, I guess. Tired. What happened?"

"Um." Joey glanced around at the rest of them, then answered hesitantly. "You had a minor... heart... thing."

"I had a heart attack?!"

"No, no," JC assured him, quickly. "Not a heart attack, exactly. A little... stutter."

"A heart fart," Chris clarified, managing a weak grin.

"Oh." Lance settled back into the bed, his mind whirling. "Did... did they say why?"

Once again, his friends all shared disturbed looks over his head. "Um," Joey said.

"Your powers," Justin told him flatly. "Your heart's just not strong enough to handle it when you use them too much. It's been weakened, and—" He cut himself off, and swiped a hand across newly tear-filled eyes.

"Justin...?" Lance was suddenly very frightened.

"Lance," JC's voice was soft and kind, his eyes sad. "They said... it can't happen too many more times. If you keep using your powers like you have been...."

"I could die...?"

JC gulped. "Yeah."

Lance swore.

"Look, it's no big deal," Joey hastened to say, squeezing his hand reassuringly. "You lived for 22 years without 'em, how hard can it be not to use 'em now?"

"That's just it, Joey," Lance sighed, closing his eyes. "I didn't do it on purpose."

"What?" Justin looked back up at him sharply. "What the hell does that mean?" Chris placed a calming hand on Justin's shoulder, but he shrugged it off.

Lance shrank back slightly. "It... it just happened. A vision...."

"So that's it? You can't help it, so it's 'goodbye, Lance'?" Justin was almost yelling, his fear translating itself into anger.

"I...."

"You can't die, Lance, I won't let you!"

Chris grabbed him and hustled him out of the room, murmuring soothingly to him as they went. Lance stared after them, feeling his eyes fill with tears.

"Oh, hey, now...." Joey sat awkwardly on the die of the bed and gathered him into a gentle hug. "Don't cry, Lance, it'll be okay. He's just scared."

"I'm scared too," Lance admitted, burying his face in Joey's chest.

"Yeah."

Lance's tears slowly dried up, and he pulled away from Joey, smiling in embarrassment as he was lowered gently back onto the bed. "So, um...." he wiped the remaining tears from his eyes and looked at them expectantly. "How long have I been here?"

"A few hours," JC answered wearily. "Once they got your records faxed over here, they were pretty sure of what the problem was. They ran a few tests, you know, and gave us the news."

"They're not positive that it's your powers," Joey told him, trying to be reassuring. "They don't really have a way of knowing that for sure, but it seems the most likely reason. There haven't been any other major changes in your life, or diet, or anything."

Lance shook his head. "No. Did they... did they say how long I have?"

Joey shook his head. "Not really. Look, Lance, it's not a death sentence, okay? We'll figure it out, the five of us. You're a healer, after all, I bet there's a way you can heal yourself."

"How?" Lance felt his eyes welling with tears again and angrily blinked them back. "If using my powers is what messes with my heart in the first place, how can I heal myself? It won't work."

"We'll figure it out," Joey said again, his brown eyes sad but determined. "We won't just let you go, Justin was right about that."

Lance sniffled, turning to look at the heart monitor by the bed. "Yeah. Thanks, Joey."

Joey shrugged, patting his shoulder reassuringly. JC took his hand again and they sat in silence for a few moments, lost in thought. Then the reason for his being there suddenly popped into Lance's mind and he jolted, sitting up straight and sending the heart monitor beeping wildly. "Oh my God!"

"What, what?!" JC leapt from his seat as Joey frantically tried to calm Lance.

"My vision!"

Two nurses rushed into the room, one of them scolding JC and Joey for not alerting them at the second Lance came to, the other trying to inject something into Lance's I.V. as he frantically held her at bay, trying to explain his agitation. "No, quit it, don't give me anything, I have to tell them something! Guys—"

Chris and Justin rushed in as well, just in time to see Joey grab the arm of the nurse with the syringe, preventing her from administering the drug. "Hurry up, Lance," he said, his voice strained. "Tell us what we need to know so this nice lady can do her job."

"No, she's not giving me anything, and we have to get out of here, now. The Backstreet Boys are in trouble, and we have to help them!"

"The Backstreet Boys?!" Chris gave him an incredulous stare. "What the Hell are you doing having visions about them?"

Lance grimaced. "I don't know, I guess it was Joey's chair dance, it just.... It just happened! Look, I saw guns. They could be hurt."

"Kevin Richardson needs to get hurt," Chris muttered, crossing his arms over his chest and glowering darkly. "Prick."

The others ignored him. "Lance, you can't go anywhere," Justin pleaded, seeing the determined look in Lance's eyes and knowing exactly what it meant. "You're sick, and the doctors said—"

"I know what they said, Justin," Lance told him firmly, "but I had that vision for a reason. They need us, and I'm not going to just sit back and let them all get hurt or killed."

"What did you see, exactly?" JC asked, then quickly added, "But don't strain yourself."

Lance closed his eyes and tried to remember, consciously not using his powers. "Well, I saw guns, for sure. Men wearing masks. I felt a lot of fear, and... pain. I think they were all in pain."

"Shot?" Justin's voice was hoarse and strained.

"No, nobody was shot...." They all let out sighs of relief. "But something's very wrong," Lance finished, opening his eyes. "We've got to help them."

"Why us?" Chris asked quietly, his dark eyes troubled. "Why not let the cops handle it?"

"I had that vision for a reason, Chris," Lance repeated. "We have to do this. It has... it has something to do with us, and we're the only ones who can fix it."

There was a long silence, the five of them staring around at one another, one in determination, the others in fear and indecision. The two nurses waited quietly, holding their breaths and unwilling to interrupt this obviously private moment.

"God," JC finally said, averting his eyes. "Fine. I'm in. I say we do it."

Joey heaved a shaky sigh. "Yeah, okay. Me too."

Justin looked to Chris, his eyes pleading with him to say no, to stand up in defense of Lance's health. "Chris...?"

Chris looked away. "I... I'm in."

Justin deflated. "Fine. Fine. But if you die, Lance, I will never forgive you." He stalked out of the room, leaving them in shocked silence.

"That went well," Joey joked weakly.

Nobody laughed.

Chapter: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

Email: kittie.verdena@gmail.com