Chapter 8: Dangerous
(All for one and one for all)

"We, uh...." Joey's soft and hesitant voice broke the tomb-like silence inside Lance's room in Intensive Care. "We should probably, you know... make a statement."

Justin pulled his eyes away from Lance's still form and stared bleakly at Joey. "And tell them what? That Lance is... that he's...."

"The fans deserve to know," Joey insisted, dropping his eyes to the floor. "At the very least."

"Who's going to tell them?" JC asked, his voice choked with tears. "It should come directly from us, not from Johnny or some suit... but I don't want to have to say it."

"Yeah," Joey whispered. "Neither do I."

Chris didn't bother to join the brief discussion. He knew as well as they did that none of them would ever be up to giving a press conference about Lance's condition. JC was right, saying it out loud made it true.

"His heart is just too damaged," the doctor had said, grim-faced. "I'm sorry, there's nothing we can do."

Hours. Lance had hours to live. They could only watch as Lance grew weaker, every second bringing them closer to losing their best friend.

Chris buried his face in his hands and tried to think. It wasn't in his nature to give up, and he still had a nagging feeling that there was something he was missing—a minor detail he was forgetting that might make the difference between life and death for Lance. But it wasn't coming. His heart hurt so badly that it kept distracting his brain, and the elusive thought continued to slip away.

"Come on, come on," he muttered to himself, pulling at his hair. "What is it? God, there has to be something...."

Someone placed a hand on his shoulder and leaned in close, whispering to him. "Take it easy, man." Joey. "You'll think of it, just don't push so hard. You'll figure it out."

He shook his head, feeling tears starting to leak out of his eyes. "I have to push it, Joey, I don't have time...."

"Shhh." Joey tightened his fingers, giving him a reassuring squeeze. "Just relax. Work it through. What's the first thing that pops into your head?"

"The power plant," Chris answered immediately. "It's something about the power plant."

"Okay. Is there anybody there?"

"We're all there. Tied up."

"Okay, so it's when we're with Keith. Go through it step by step, now. What happened that's so important?" Joey's voice was low and soothing, almost hypnotic. Chris allowed it to wash over him, guiding his thoughts.

"We're all tied up," he said slowly, running through the events in his head. "We start to wake up, Keith's beating on you, I break loose...."

"And then you died," Justin finished, bitterly. "You died and Lance brought you back. We know that, Chris, it doesn't help—"

"No, no, it's not...." Chris shook his head furiously as JC quieted Justin with soothing words and gestures. "No. We're missing something, there's more to it than that...."

"We'll figure it out, Chris," Joey said solemnly. "All of us."

And that was it. Chris's mouth fell open and he leapt to his feet, eyes widening. "All of—Oh my God, I'm so stupid!"

Joey stumbled backward and fell ungracefully to the floor. "What...?"

Chris could feel himself grinning wildly but didn't care. "You guys, Lance didn't save me back at the power plant, you all did! He couldn't do it on his own, remember? He was too weak from Keith's power drain! You gave him your energy and he just directed it into me!"

"What are you saying, Chris?" JC asked, obviously not yet daring to hope.

"Don't you see? The whole reason Lance can't use his powers right now is that he doesn't have the energy! His heart has to work too hard to keep up and it messes everything up—"

"—But if we gave him the energy, maybe he could heal himself without putting any more strain on his heart!" Joey nearly sobbed with excitement as he finished. "But do you really think it'll work?"

"One way to find out, come on!" Chris joined Justin and JC by the bed and took Lance's hand. The others followed his lead, Justin holding the other hand, JC and Joey each taking one wrist. "Okay, Lance, I know you can hear me in there. We're all here, Poofoo, and we're willing to give you whatever you need to fix that ticker of yours. I know you can do this, just reach out and pull us in. Between the four of us, we've got a buttload of energy here, so you won't have to lift a finger. Just let us do all the work."

He felt a slight tug and stumbled a bit, seeing out of the corner of his eyes as the others all reacted at the same time. "That's it! Come on, we can handle it!"

The pulling sensation increased, but abruptly dropped off as the heart monitor started to fluctuate and lose beats.

"No, no, stop that! Just use us, Lance, come on...."

The pull started again, more tentatively, then slowly began to gain strength.

"That's it, don't do a thing," he crooned, tightening his hold. "Ride the wave, babe, you're surfin'."

JC giggled, and Chris felt it as a ripple through the link. "Whoa, feel that? JC tickles when he giggles. That's kind of a rhyme, isn't it?" The door burst open behind them and several nurses hurried into the room—Johnny, 'Dre, and Lonnie on their heels. They hovered around the bed, watching in confusion as Lance's eyes started to flutter.

"That's it, Scoop, come on!" Justin leaned in a little bit closer, his eyes sparkling. "He's doing it, you guys, he's really doing it!"

"Lance?" Chris squeezed Lance's lax hand a little tighter. "It's time to wake up."

Lance gave a quiet sigh... and opened his eyes.

~*~

"Where are you taking me?"

The men escorting him down the hallway didn't answer. Brian hadn't really expected them to. They only spoke amongst themselves, and even then in hushed, almost inaudible voices. They were professionals, that much was obvious. It was in the way they carried themselves, the way they held their weapons, the efficiency with which they completed all of their tasks. Plus, the spirits had told him they were.

At first it had been strange and overwhelming trying not only to process his own emotions and the emotions of everyone around him, but also to sift through all of the spiritual conversations that were going on at any one time. Luckily, once he had explained that to them, the spirits made a much greater effort not to speak all at once, and now they were more of a comfort than a burden. He still had trouble controlling his empathy, but luckily these men didn't have much in the way of emotions. For the first time in a long time, he was sure the emotions he was feeling were his own. Unfortunately, most of what he was feeling was fear.

Being taken from the hospital had been a mixed blessing for him. On the one hand, yes, he'd been kidnapped, which was almost never a good thing. But on the other hand, it meant getting away from all of the intense emotions that had been flooding his brain. He had been able to feel all of it—the harried doctors and nurses, the frightened and miserable patients, the loved ones frantic with worry—and the resulting chaos in his mind had nearly driven him insane. In his few moments of lucidity, he had found himself cursing his new powers, wishing through hysterical tears that all of it would go away. But finally, once he was alone with his friends and their kidnappers, the only emotions he had to deal with were similar enough to his own to be manageable.

Brian felt his stomach clench as the men turned him down yet another hallway. It seemed like they'd been walking for hours, and with every step his apprehension grew. Don't be afraid, the spirits whispered, their presence a comforting glow that warmed his shoulders. Something is happening. They are coming.

"What about the others?" he whispered to them, feeling AJ's anger and Howie's frustration flare. When the men had come to take him away, they hadn't said a word to the others about what was happening or where they were going, and Brian could feel their worry for him gnawing at the back of his mind. He wished he could let them know, somehow, that he was alright. He had the spirits to tell him they were safe, but they didn't have any way of knowing that he was even still alive.

Safe, safe, came the reassuring answer. Don't worry, something is happening. They are coming.

Brian didn't know exactly what was happening or who was coming, but he knew better than to ask. If the spirits had wanted him to know, they would have told him.

He was jolted out of his jumbled thoughts when one of his captors clapped a hand down on his shoulder and tightened it, guiding him into a large, sterile room resembling a doctor's office. "Strip," the man said brusquely, shoving him forward.

Brian gaped at him as the other men snickered in cruel amusement. "What?"

"I said, strip." The man glared at him and placed a hand on his gun. "Do it now, or we'll do it for you."

Do as he says, the spirits whispered urgently. Don't fight, do as they say.

Brian's hands shook as he slowly removed his clothing. He hesitated as he reached his boxers, but the man guarding the door cocked his gun and stepped toward him, so he quickly took those off, too. As soon as he was naked, he was grabbed again and dragged to the examination table in the center of the room. He tried to force himself to remain limp and pliant, but he struggled despite himself, his panic growing, as his wrists and hands were secured to the surface with leather restraints. The men stepped away, all of them leaving the room except for one who stood at the door with his gun at the ready. Brian felt his panic beginning to grow. His breath began to come in sharp gasps, his entire body trembling with fear.

Calm, be calm.... Have faith.... The spirits hovered protectively over him, trying to calm his frantic movements.

"Please," he sobbed, hating himself for being so weak and scared, "Help me, don't.... I don't understand...."

They are coming. Help is coming. Be calm, be calm.

The spirits began to whisper information into his ears, and Brian's struggles slowed, then stopped.

He smiled.

~*~

Johnny Wright watched in amused silence as Justin paced up and down the hallway outside of Lance's hospital room. He exchanged glances with Lonnie and 'Dre, both of whom grinned back, shrugging their shoulders. The rest of NSYNC, along with Agents Chang and Welsh, were also watching his agitated movements, and one would have thought there was a tennis match going on from the way everyone's heads were moving back and forth at the same time.

Joey finally got tired of it. "Justin, will you please sit down?" His gentle smile took any of the sting out of his words. "Lance is fine!"

"Then what's taking them so long?" Justin threw his hands into the air and glared at the closed door. "They've been doing tests for hours, now!"

"Ummm...." Chris checked his watch. "Try twenty-eight minutes, Jup. Are you taking spazz lessons from JC?"

JC jumped, startled out of his zone. "Hey!" Any further protest was interrupted by the door to Lance's room finally opening.

"Oh, hello." The doctor, for whatever reason, looked startled to see them all there.

"Hello," Chris said, with exaggerated calm. "How are you?"

"Oh, I'm fine, thank you," the doctor answered, obviously pleased at being asked. "And yourself?"

"Just fine. It's a little cold in here, but—"

"Oh, for God's sake!" Justin burst out, making JC and Joey giggle. "Will you just tell us what's going on with Lance?!"

"Oh!" The doctor stared at him, startled and insulted.

"I'm fine," Lance called from inside, "so quit torturing Dr. Lofton and just get in here."

Justin was inside in seconds. Chris looked around at the rest of them innocently. "Was it something I said?"

Joey grinned and rolled his eyes, grabbing Chris by the elbow and dragging him toward the room. "Come on, Crazy, let's go see for ourselves just how 'fine' Lance is."

"He's really fine," JC chirped. "The teen magazines told me so."

"Sexy, even," Chris agreed.

"It's the eyes," JC confided as they stepped inside. "Makes the ladies go all weak-kneed."

"And that Bass booty, too," Chris added. He grinned at Lance. "It's the stuff of legends."

"I don't remember reading that in any teenie mags," Lance deadpanned good-naturedly. "What kind of magazines have you been reading?"

"Only the best, Poofoo." Chris stepped up to the bed and hugged him tight. "Only the very, very best." He stepped back, his eyes suspiciously bright. "How ya feelin'?"

Lance smiled at them, looking healthier than he had in days. "I feel great." He gestured to all of the monitors that had been disconnected and pushed to the side of the room. "I'm completely healthy."

"In fact," Dr. Lofton added, coming up behind them, "His heart is absolutely perfect. We detected no hint of a murmur or defect of any kind."

"Wow, so you basically got a whole new heart," Joey marveled. "Cool!"

"Yup." Lance nodded, unable to stop smiling. "So, um... thanks, y'all."

"Hey, you did most of the work," Justin told him, waving away the thanks. "And besides, you'd've done the same for us."

"And have, in my case, so consider us even," Chris finished. Then he glanced at the others. "But you owe them."

Lance opened his mouth to reply but was preempted by Justin, who said, simply, "If he owes us, so do you, Chrissyfer. You maybe wanna rethink that?"

Chris nodded. "Right, like I said. Nobody owes anybody anything."

Johnny shook his head as he stepped up to Lance's bedside and placed a hand on Chris' shoulder. "It's good to see you feeling so well, Lance. You really had all of us worried."

"Yeah, I know," Lance said, apologetically. "Dr. Lofton told me how close I came...."

"Too close for comfort," JC nodded, shuddering a bit. "But that's all over with, now."

"Is it?" 'Dre asked worriedly, looking to Dr. Lofton. "I mean, will this happen again if he uses his powers too much?"

Dr. Lofton hesitated, then shook his head. "I don't think so, though I can't say for sure. As I said, his heart is in perfect condition, so use of his powers shouldn't cause the same sort of strain as they did before. But I can't tell you for sure unless we run a few tests—"

"Sorry, Dr. Lofton, no time," Lance interrupted, pushing the covers down and getting to his feet. "Where's my clothes? We've got work to do."

"Now wait just a minute—"

"You had a vision in that conference room, didn't you," Agent Welsh interrupted, leaving the doctor spluttering useless protests.

"Yup." Lance grinned as he hurriedly threw on his clothing. "I know exactly where the Backstreet Boys are, and who's got 'em."

"Alright, Lance!" Joey cried, giving him a high five.

"Julian Brummel?" Chang asked, earning a nod from Lance. "So hearing his name set you off, and you had that vision."

"Yeah. It just... I dunno, overwhelmed me. I saw everything. He's completely off his rocker, we gotta get there fast. He's already started performing some pretty weird experiments on Brian Littrell."

JC turned green. "Oh, man...."

"Don't worry, he's not hurt. Yet." Lance finished tying his sneakers and stood, facing the still-protesting Dr. Lofton. "What do I have to sign to get out of here?"

"I... you...." Dr. Lofton took one look at Lance's determined face and gave up. "I'll get the papers."

Agent Welsh took that as his cue to get moving. "I'll mobilize a force; I want this thing to go by the book. Agent Chang and I will meet you downstairs in fifteen minutes." He motioned to Chang and they hurried out as well.

"We're coming with you," Lonnie announced to the group firmly, earning a nod from 'Dre. "You guys get into way too much trouble on your own."

Johnny grinned. "Amen to that. Listen, a massive fight is not the place for a wimp like me. But I want you to stay in touch, Lonnie. You call me the minute anything happens; I need to know you're all safe."

"You got it, boss."

"We learn from our mistakes," Lance told him, his eyes cold. "They won't get the best of us again."

"Word!" Justin agreed emphatically.

Chris grinned dangerously, forming a white-hot fireball in his fist and tossing it up and down carelessly. "Don't worry, Johnny. They haven't got a chance in hell."

For a split second, Johnny actually felt sorry for Dr. Julian Brummel.

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