Boxes (Lambs TrickC) AU Part 2/3
Mar. 26th, 2004 11:49 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
turps“So you sell the magazines and take a percentage of the cover cost for yourself and give the rest to the charity that provides them?” Lance asks. He’s flipping through one of Joey’s magazines as they wait for Justin to come out of the bathroom. “Not a bad deal.”
“It works for me,” Joey says before finishing his coffee with a loud slurp. “It’s regular money, as long as the buyers are out there anyway. Talking of which, I’d better go.”
Lance pushes the magazine into the bag and stands as JC and Chris get up. Chris gathers the mugs, glasses, and plate, putting them on the counter, waving at Sally as he shouts for Justin. “Hey, kid. We’re going. Either get your ass in gear or we’ll leave you here to wash dishes.”
The bathroom door swings open with a crash, and Justin runs out, fastening his pants as he runs. “Hey, wait up.” He’s nearly to the door when he turns back to tell Sally. “Nice, to meet you, ma’am.” Sally mock growls and Justin looks torn between being scared and amused, eventually deciding to follow Joey out of the door. Lance waves and follows, leaving Chris and JC in the café.
“We’d better go too. See you in two days?” Chris asks. Sally comes close and he laughs, trying to duck her hand as she ruffles his hair.
“Not if I see you first.” It’s the usual farewell, and Chris loves the familiarity of it as Sally ruffles JC’s hair too, before moving behind the counter again. “Go on then. You’ll lose your spots if you don’t go.”
Chris knows that’s true, so he picks up the sunflower bag, looping it over JC’s shoulder as they walk outside. Joey is standing apart from Justin and Lance, ready to run to his usual selling pitch. It’s getting late and Chris knows Joey needs to catch the commuters heading into the subway, but Joey’s not going anywhere until he knows where the others will be. It’s another of the morning rituals that Chris loves so much, as they make plans and get ready for the day.
“I’ll be on the corner of Western and Bows today; it looks like it’s going to be sunny and there should be lots of people going to the park,” Chris says. He looks at Justin and Lance, who are standing looking lost again. “I’ll take these two; they can sit and be amazed by my singing.”
“Amazed that someone that looks like you can sing like a girl you mean.” Joey grins wide as he fires the insult, and Chris glares back, mouth twitching with amusement.
“Get yourself some new material one day, Fatone. Maybe we’ll laugh then.” Chris smiles sweetly, then turns to JC. “You going back to Cross Street today?”
“No. I think I need to draw people today. Cross Street is a dragon place, not a people place. I’m going to Wordsworth; the people vibes are amazing there.” JC smiles happily and Chris knows he’s already planning his first drawing, picturing colours and shapes in his mind.
“You sure, C? Last time you were there that fucker threw a bucket of water on you” Chris fumes, the memory of JC soaked to the skin and his drawing ruined still vivid in his mind weeks later. Chris had wanted to punch the shopkeeper then, the only thing stopping him was JC’s expression as he dried chalks on his t-shirt. But that didn’t stop Chris and Joey throwing a brick through the window later -- something JC would never know.
“I’m sure,” JC says. He’s all lit up and kisses Chris on the mouth before starting to walk away. “I’ll move outside the pet shop. I like hearing the animals anyway.”
“I’ll see you there, then.” Chris waves as JC blows him a kiss before walking round a corner.
“Meet you at the usual place?” Joey asks as he starts to walk away.
Chris nods. “We’ll be there; have a good day. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
Ignoring Joey’s crude comment in reply, Chris laughs, then indicates that Lance and Justin should follow him. “You’re coming with me. I’ll warn you, you’ll probably be bored out of your mind, but I’d rather you be bored than dead.”
“Come on, I think you’re being a bit over the top,” Justin scoffs. “Who’s gonna kill us? Some bag lady who wants our shoes?”
Chris walks faster; he wants to turn and grab Justin’s coat, then keep shaking him until he understands that he could be killed for something as little as shoes. Justin is still laughing softly and Chris repeats He’s fifteen, he’s fifteen in his head in time with his footsteps. But he can’t let the comment go totally and stops walking suddenly, halting Justin with a hand to his chest.
“Look, kid, I’m not kidding about this. You’re not living at home now. People will and have killed over a pair of shoes, and you’re going to have to understand that. You’re not in your cosy, safe world now. Either smarten up or catch the next bus back, it’s your choice.”
Justin looks shocked, and the laughter drains from his face. Chris’ belly clenches at the sight. He hates that Justin looks like this, fearful and scared, but he’d rather see him this way than dead on a dirty floor.
“I’m sorry,” Justin says. He’s looking at the ground again and Chris gently grabs his chin, making him look up.
“It’s okay, but kid, you have to listen to me, or Joey or JC. We know what we’re talking about” Justin nods, so Chris lets go of his chin before flicking Justin’s nose. “Good. Now come on, you need to come listen to me perform. Maybe if you and Lance stand and watch you’ll encourage the rest. Hell, they might stop just to stand next to two hotties.”
Chris winks at Lance, who blushes bright red and they all start walking again. It’s a short walk to the retail district and they’re soon at Chris’ spot. It’s still early and the shutters are going up at the grocers Chris stands opposite of. It’s a good spot and Chris has worked it for the last two years. He doesn’t get bothered often, not like the last place.
“You can go where you want as long as I can see you, okay?” Chris knows how the words sound, but there’s no way he can sing knowing Justin and Lance are wandering alone, not when Elroy is out.
“Yes, mom,” Justin replies before he gracefully sinks to sit on the case Lance had placed on the sidewalk. Lance does the same and they sit, side by side, looking up at Chris.
Chris wants to laugh, the look so expectant that he wonders what they think he’s going to do. “Don’t expect much. I sing from memory, songs I’ve learned along the way. Some people stop and listen, most don’t, but as long as they throw some coins in the hat, we’ll be fine.” He pulls a squashed hat from his side pocket, reshaping it before throwing it to the ground.
“You don’t have any backup or mic or anything?” Justin looks surprised as he looks up. “It’s hard to sing like that.”
“Tell me about it.” Chris shrugs, he’s used to singing with no accompaniment, straining his voice to be heard. “I’ve got good lungs and a loud voice; it’s okay.”
“You sure do.” Chris thinks the muffled insult is from Justin, but it’s Lance who has the telltale blush. Chris looks at him and raises an eyebrow, but Lance coolly looks back, eyes sparkling with amusement and clearly unrepentant.
“Glad we’re in agreement.” Chris has to laugh now and Lance grins too. “If you’re finished insulting me, I have to warm up.”
Chris hates warming his voice up. It’s boring and people look at him strangely as he practices. It doesn’t help that both Justin and Lance are staring at him, but Chris won’t give them the satisfaction of turning away, just keeps on making noises that make him sound deranged. But at last he’s done, just in time for the first crowd of people who are waiting for the Starbucks to open.
“I’m going to have to start now. Remember stay in sight.” Chris takes a deep breath, and decides to start with an upbeat song. Opening his mouth, he begins to sing, standing in place. People watch from the line, but none come over, but that’s okay, he’s used to that. What he’s not used to is the way Justin and Lance sit and watch him, eyes tracking his every movement, listening to every note. He sees their feet tapping and soon his are doing the same as the music takes over and he flies into his own world.
Chris keeps singing, one song after another as he moves within his small spot. Eyes closed, he sings of lost loves and pain. During others his hips swing as he sings of balmy nights and sweet kisses. The real world retreats to the edges of his existence. He still sees Lance and Justin but he also lives the lives of those he sings about, feeling their every emotion.
When he starts another fast song, he’s surprised to see Justin jump to his feet, pulling Lance up with him. Justin stands in front of Chris and starts dancing, body moving in time with Chris’ song. Justin pulls his sweater off and throws it behind Chris, and the sunlight makes his skin gleam. Chris almost stops singing at the sight. No one ever dances, but Justin is, smiling as he moves seductively in front of Lance.
Lance stands still at first, but as Chris keeps singing and Justin keeps dancing until Lance suddenly moves, hands and hips swaying. Justin grins at him, then winks at Chris as people stop to watch. Chris sings louder as the coins continue to fill the hat; it’s the most money he’s made in months.
Chris sings all day, only stopping to share a bottle of water and packets of chips with Lance and Justin when his stomach starts to growl. He feels guilty as he eats, knowing JC will probably have nothing, too lost in his own head to eat even if he makes enough money to buy snacks. But he also knows that JC would never begrudge him food, so he lounges against the wall, sucking salt from his fingers after every chip.
Justin and Lance stay close all day. They dance at times, and at others sit together, bodies pressed close as they talk softly. Chris stops singing when his throat starts to hurt. He’s drained, but feels better than he has for weeks. There’s extra money in the hat, not much, but enough to ensure they eat well tonight.
“I’m done” Chris says, as he picks up the hat, twisting it so the coins stay inside.
“We going to the soup kitchen again?” Lance asks as he stands his case on end. He doesn’t look enthused about the idea and Chris doesn’t blame him. The hunger will be almost constant now, and soup’s never enough to satisfy it. Chris is used to that; they’re not.
“Not tonight; we only go there if we don’t have enough money for anything else. I think we’ll be able to splurge and get some fast food.” Chris drools at the thought. It’s been weeks since they could afford anything aside from snacks, and he imagines the taste of a greasy burger and salty french fries. “We’ll go and get JC, then meet Joey.”
“Great,” Justin says. He grins, then starts to walk and Chris has no choice but to follow. “Hey, by the way. You’re an awesome singer.”
Justin throws the compliment over his shoulder and Lance nods in agreement. Chris can’t help blushing. It’s been a long time since anyone other than JC and Joey has complimented him on his voice. It’s one of the things Chris is most proud of, that and his friends.
“Thanks,” Chris says softly, then hurries along the sidewalk, needing to see JC.
~*~*~*~
“Whoa,” Justin says, and Chris silently echoes him. He’s seen thousands of JC’s pictures, on sidewalks and walls, napkins and scraps of paper, but every time he sees something new, he’s reminded of how talented JC is.
The sidewalk is covered in faces; happy, sad, and everything in-between. Chris recognises John Lennon next to the President next to the old woman who begs at the corner of West and Bradley Street. Justin and Lance are pictured together, blissful smiles on their faces, and Joey is laughing, eyes nothing more than slits. Chris keeps looking; he knows he’ll be there somewhere and he’s not disappointed. JC has drawn him singing, eyes closed, hand at his chest. JC has also drawn himself, watching Chris with so much love it hurts to see.
“You like it?” JC asks.
“It’s amazing,” Justin says, almost bouncing in place.
But JC is looking at Chris, face calm as Chris mouths I love it, I love you . JC beams at that, hugging himself with delight, adding pink handprints to his already dirty t-shirt.
“Chris got so much money,” Justin says and JC looks questionably at Chris so he nods his head.
“Yeah, we did good, C. I think it’s a Mickey D’s night.”
“Are you sure? I didn’t do that well,” JC says as he kneels, emptying a few coins out of his hat. “I think someone took my money again. There was more, then I started drawing Justin and he has all these curls and when I looked up my hat was empty.”
“It’s okay.” Chris keeps his voice level despite the anger he feels inside, then kneels next to JC. “We’re good today, really. It seems all I needed was two baby hotties and the money rolls in.”
“They were good?” JC questions. He passes chalks to Chris, who puts them into the box.
“They were great. You should see the moves Justin has; I thought that woman from the bakers was going to orgasm on the spot.” Chris smiles as he remembers, then wipes a smear of white from JC’s cheek. “At least people see them, even if they don’t listen to me.”
“Hey.” JC grabs Chris’ arm, holding it as they stand. “None of that; you’ve got a beautiful voice, and one day the right person will come along, and then the world will be ours. You’ll sing and have a hit record and I’ll have my own gallery with my paintings on the wall, and we’ll live in a penthouse, you, me, and Joey. Oh, and Justin and Lance can come too if they like.”
Chris sighs; he loves the world JC paints, but he’s also a realist. He knows the chance of being discovered is almost zero. But he lets JC dream -- one of them has to. “You’re right. I know. But why don’t we start with burgers and fries for now, leave the penthouse for later?”
“Sure, but it’ll happen Chris; it has to” JC says as he puts the chalks in his bag, looping it over his head. “Now, you said something about a burger?”
“I did,” Chris says, smiling when JC, Lance and Justin all cheer. “But we have to meet Joey first, then we’ll go to the place on Westwood and hit the park; we haven’t been for a few weeks.”
“The park?” Justin sounds dismissive. “That’s kids stuff.”
“I like it.” JC looks Justin in the eye. It looks like Justin’s about to say more but JC continues, “It’s also free. You want to eat, you come to the park with us.”
“We’ll come” says Lance, and he picks up his case again. “Lead the way.”
~*~*~*~
“I want the girl’s happy meal; I like the pink box,” JC says as he leans against the counter. Justin is looking at him like he’s insane, but JC is adamant about his meal choice.
“Okay, so that’s a girl’s Happy Meal with chicken nuggets, a Big Mac meal, a Chicken nugget meal, and two double cheeseburger meals.” The server repeats the order and Chris nods and hands over the coins he’s carefully counted out before they entered the restaurant. The server smiles as he takes the money, but it’s a false smile barely hiding contempt and Chris scowls as he waits, foot tapping against the shiny floor.
Lance is sitting with Joey at a table. Chris thinks they’re discussing percentage profits about the magazines, something boring anyway that doesn’t hold Chris’ interest. Instead he looks around the restaurant, taking in the curious stares and hostility. A group of teens sit at a table behind Joey and Lance, and they stare without shame, whispering and giggling. Chris can only hear certain words, look at his clothes, dropouts, scum and he wants to stalk over and tell them Joey’s worth ten of them, is a finer man than any of them will ever be, despite his ragged appearance.
“Ignore them,” says, JC. He stands next to Chris, using his body to hide the fact his hand is cupping Chris’ ass. “They’re stupid kids.”
“I hate them,” Chris says, and he scowls more, only relaxing when JC moves his hand upward, slipping it slightly under his shirt.
“No, you don’t. You don’t hate unless there’s a very good reason.” JC’s fingers circle Chris’ back, warm against his skin. “It’s one of the reasons I love you.”
“Yeah?” Chris questions. He stops scowling at the teens and looks at JC. “What are the other reasons?”
“You fishing for compliments, Christopher Kirkpatrick?” JC asks, but he’s smiling and keeps on caressing Chris’ back as he pretends to think. “I guess I love you because you found me when I was lost. Because you saw the goodness in Joey when he was at rock bottom, looking past the drinking to the man inside. Because you care even though you pretend you don’t. Because you sing to me at night when I can’t sleep. Because you give me your blanket when I’m cold. Because you’ve the cutest ass I’ve ever seen and…”
“Do you want ketchup with that?” The server asks as he pushes two bags of food across the counter. There’s no smile now and he pointedly looks at JC’s hand, which still rests against Chris’ back.
“No, thank you,” JC replies. He doesn’t move his hand, just tightens his hold so Chris has to turn with him when he looks at the server. JC pulls himself to his full height, scorn written on his expression. “We’ve got all we need. Have a nice night.”
JC tosses his head and walks away, head held high, still holding Chris tight round the waist. Joey and Lance scramble out of their chairs and Justin hurries away from the display of happy toys he’s been examining as they follow Chris and JC outside.
“Hold up,” Joey says as he catches up, still arranging the straps of his bag over his shoulder. “What’s the hurry?”
“I didn’t like him” JC says as he hands a bag of food to Justin. “Anyway, I want to go swing now.”
Joey shrugs and starts walking again. “Fair enough. It’s probably a good job; this bruiser wanted to go punch out those idiots behind us.” Joey points to Lance who blushes, but doesn’t drop his gaze.
“They called you a rank disgusting dropout and JC a dirty retard and…”
Chris laughs bitterly. “Nothing we haven’t heard before; you get used to it. Don’t get into something you can’t handle because of name-calling. If you stay here much longer you won’t even hear it anymore.”
“I could have handled it,” Lance says, and he stares back at Chris.
“Maybe you could, but it’s not worth it, believe me. Save the fights for the important stuff, like the fact that Justin’s eating your fries.”
“Hey, put those back,” Lance yells when he sees Justin stuffing fries into his mouth. Justin smiles, with a fry hanging from his bottom lip before he’s sprinting down the street with Lance in hot pursuit. “Just wait until I get my hands on you, Timberlake.”
“Kids these days; they’ve got no respect.” Joey shakes his head in mock sorrow then yells and starts to run too.
“Is it just me or do you feel old watching them?” Chris asks. JC sighs, patting Chris’ back one last time before letting his hand drop.
“I feel old all the time. At least I do when I’m not inside my head.” JC sounds defeated and Chris looks sharply at him, seeing the way JC’s shoulders are slumped as he watches the other three run through the park gates far ahead, then JC speaks again, voice soft, “I get scared sometimes, that I won’t come back. I need the colours, Chris. I need to see beautiful things, touch them and feel them. Without them I’m empty inside.”
Chris can’t speak. The words are frozen, trapped by the lump of ice that blocks his throat. Uncaring of who might be watching, Chris reaches for JC’s hand, holding it tight. It’s the one thing he’s always feared, that one day JC will leave, realising that he deserves more than a cardboard shelter and a man with too many scars.
“I wish I could cut myself open and show you what I see,” JC says, then looks at Chris. “You know why I always come back?”
Chris shakes his head, still unable to form words.
“Because of you. You’re more beautiful than anything I can ever imagine.”
Chris feels the fear drain from his body, and he hugs JC quickly. “I think you need your eyes testing, C.” But he smiles as he says it, and JC smiles too, a big goofy smile that lights up his face.
“You gonna push me on the swing?” JC says as he starts to walk. Chris is tight against his side, their legs brushing together with each step.
“Don’t I always?” replies Chris. Because he will, and they both know it.
~*~*~*~*~
Chris sits on the picnic bench, burger in hand. He savours each bite, knowing they might not eat like this for weeks. His fingers are covered in grease and salt and he sucks his fingers in-between bites, making the meal last as long as possible.
JC is lying on the grass, eating chicken nuggets as he watches the stars. Lance lies next to him – meal long finished – and points out constellations, waving his hand in the air as he tries to show JC each one. JC eats his nuggets and says he can see the stars Lance points out; Chris doubts he can but Lance sounds happy as he explains, and Chris knows JC will say he can see anything as long as it makes Lance smile.
Looking up when Justin shouts, Chris laughs when he sees him balanced in the air on a see-saw, Joey weighing the other end down.
“Let me down!” Justin laughs, then yells as Joey does just that, letting Justin fall to the ground with a thump as he yells, “That hurt! Wait until I get hold of you.” Joey laughs at Justin’s threat but still runs away, chuckling as Justin tries to catch him.
“That’s got to hurt,” Lance says, and he stands as JC jumps to his feet. Chris knows he’s going to swing, something he loves to do. Chris remembers asking JC why he loved it once, and the way JC’s face changed as he explained about the swing in his childhood home, and days spent swinging as his mom watched from the kitchen window. Chris has never asked again.
“Push me later?” JC asks, and kisses Chris on the top of his head when he indicates he will. Chris watches JC run to then jump on the swing, his whole body working to get as high as possible and soon he’s flying through the air, laughing as his hair streams behind him and his t-shirt rides up, showing his stomach.
Lance sits next to Chris and they watch JC in silence as Chris eats his burger. When he’s finished, Chris carefully folds the paper bags for JC, who collects any kind of paper to draw on, then puts them into Joey’s bag that’s on the ground next to them.
“Thank you.” Chris looks up at Lance’s words.
“No problem, but what for?” Chris asks. Lance is silent, watching JC, and Chris thinks he’s not going to talk, when Lance finally replies. “For taking us in. I know you didn’t want to.”
“I had to,” Chris says, and his fingers drum against the tabletop as Lance looks at him.
“No, you didn’t. You could have left Justin yesterday or sent us away today. I imagine the last thing you need is two more people to take care of.”
Chris’ first reaction is to lie, to say it’s no trouble, but Lance is still looking at him, and Chris knows any lie will be seen through. So he makes a dismissive gesture with his hand. “We’ll get by. You’ll soon learn street smarts, and until you do Joey, JC, and I have your backs.”
Lance falls quiet again, and Chris starts to feel jumpy. He wants to stand and run, to try and fit down the slide and laugh when his ass gets stuck half way down like it always does, but Lance is nibbling at his fingernails, obviously trying to work up the nerve to speak.
“You and JC…” Lance says, and he looks at Chris as if he’s afraid to go on.
“Me and JC, what?” Chris prompts, and Lance bites at his nail again, looking at Chris then away again.
“You look like you’ve been together a long time.”
“That’s because we have,” Chris says, and he counts time in his head. He can’t remember exactly, months tend to run together and Chris remembers in terms of events, not dates. The time he slept on a park bench when he first left home, the time in the shelter with the guy and his wandering hands, the time he could do nothing but lie on the cold sidewalk, shivering and feverish after one too many cold nights without shelter.
“I think it’s about three years now, maybe more, it’s been three winters at least,” Chris says, smiling when he remembers meeting JC. “He saw me singing one day and started talking about how beautiful my eyes were. I was cold and hungry and here was this idiot babbling about my eyes. I told him to go away but he wouldn’t, and still hasn’t.”
“You love him.”
It’s not really a question, but Chris answers anyway. “Yeah, I do. He’s everything to me.”
“I love Justin,” Lance says; his expression is serious as he looks at Justin, who’s hanging upside down at the top of the climbing frame, then back to Chris. “You probably think I’m too young for love, but I’m not.”
“It doesn’t matter what I think; you have to do what makes you happy, and if that’s Justin, that’s great.” Chris looks at Justin too, who’s laughing hard as Joey tries to pull him down.
“I didn’t want him to come,” Lance says as he folds his arms around himself, looking into the distance. “I was going alone; I’d planned it all while I was stuck in bed. It hurt to move and everything was so wrong. Momma would bring me soup and pills and we’d talk but never about anything important. I never told her about the calls. She loves me, Chris. She really does; Dad too. That’s why I had to go; they were going to hurt them, because of me. I never planned to bring Justin; but he was there when they called again, and I threw some thing in my case and ran. He followed me and wouldn’t go. You have to believe me.”
“I believe you,” Chris says. He touches Lance on the shoulder, feeling how tense he is. “You did what you thought was right.”
“It was right,” Lance almost shouts, and Justin and Joey look over before going back to digging in the sandpit when Lance waves at them. “It’s the only thing I could do.”
“Did you leave a note at least?” Chris asks; he’s imagining Lance’s mom, standing by the phone waiting for news of her son.
“I sent a postcard at a bus station we stopped at on the way here. I told her I was okay and not to look for me. Justin sent one to his mom, too. He cried when he sent it, he misses her.” Lance rubs his eyes with his fists, and Chris knows Justin isn’t the only person who’s missing his mom. “I should have made him stay.”
“You could go back.” Chris knows Lance will say no before he even opens his mouth, but he has to try.
“No. No, I can’t. I won’t. The stakes are too high. I’m not putting my family at risk.” Lance jumps to his feet. “I’ll go somewhere else if you don’t want us, but I’m not going back.”
“Okay, you’re not going back, I get it.” Chris sighs, looking up at Lance. “I’ve also said you can stay about a thousand times now, so get it through your head. You can stay. Justin can stay. My box is your box. Now I’m gonna go swing with JC. You’d better go and dig Justin out of the sandbox. It looks like he’s a bit stuck.”
Lance looks at Justin who’s under a mound of sand, Joey laughing next to him. Lance nods at Chris before running to Justin, pulling him up and dusting him down as he laughs. Chris watches them then goes to a swing, holding the chains when JC moves behind him, embracing him in a tight hug. Resting his head against JC’s chest, Chris closes his eyes. “Were we ever that young?”
“I don’t think we were,” JC replies and Chris believes him. Youth is something he’s never had, and something Justin and Lance will lose soon; it’s inevitable.
~*~*~*~
It’s the kind of night that Chris loves the most as they walk back to their shelters, almost silent with stars shining brilliantly in the sky. JC’s hand brushes Chris’s, and ahead Joey talks intently with Lance. Justin is walking slowly, almost stumbling at times, so Chris hurries his pace until he’s walking in the middle of JC and Justin.
“Hey, kid,” Chris says, and Justin looks at him and smiles. Chris doesn’t smile back; Justin looks exhausted and the smile is obviously fake. “I’d ask if you’re okay, but I know you’re not.”
“I’m fine,” replies Justin and he walks a bit faster as if to prove that point.
“You don’t have to pretend with us,” Chris says, and Justin’s shoulders slump as he lets out a deep sigh.
“I know. It’s just…I’m tired, that’s all. It’s been a long few days.”
“That’s for sure.” JC sounds sympathetic and he reaches past Chris to pull Justin into a quick hug. Justin doesn’t return it at first, but as JC squeezes him with both arms, he hesitantly loops his arms round JC’s waist and rests his head against JC’s shoulder. Chris can hear JC whisper words it’s okay, you’ll be fine, we’ve got you and Justin turns his head so his face is hidden in JC’s t-shirt.
A thud distracts Chris and he turns to see Lance standing looking at them, face set in an expression of anguish. He’s dropped his case to the sidewalk, and Joey puts his bag on it as he moves in front of Lance, saying soft words that Chris can’t hear. Lance doesn’t answer, just keeps looking at JC and Justin and eventually Joey shrugs his shoulders and pulls Lance into a hug too.
Chris is torn, he doesn’t know if he should go to Joey, who’s standing perfectly still, Lance frozen in his arms, or JC, who’s patting Justin’s back as Justin tries to hide his tears.
“Sorry,” Justin says as he pulls back from JC. He wipes at his eyes and nose with the sleeve of his sweater then looks away, seemingly ashamed. “I’m tired and I’m hungry and I want some candy and a mug of cocoa that my mom makes with those little marshmallows. She uses the white ones because they’re my favourite; they look like tiny ice burgs in a sea of chocolate.”
“She sounds nice.” JC half smiles and Chris knows he’s imagining moms who make cocoa and little white marshmallows.
“She is. She let Lance stay over this summer sometimes, and we watched movies all night. She makes the best cookies with chocolate buttons and lets me stay up late when it’s not a school night.” Justin stops talking, wiping at his eyes again. “I miss her. Just don’t tell Lance. He already feels bad about letting me come. Not that he could have stopped me, even if he’d sneaked away I’d have followed.”
“We won’t,” Chris promises, and JC nods. Justin smiles again, more genuine this time.
“Thanks,” he says, then runs to Lance, hugging him as Joey moves away.
“I miss my mom, Chris.” JC’s words are so soft that Chris hardly hears them, but he does and turns to JC, kissing him quickly on the lips.
“I know. You can always go back.” The words hurt to say, but Chris means them. He wants JC to be happy and if that means him going back to his family he’ll let him go, even if it would break his heart to do so.
“Why would I want to do that?” JC sounds puzzled. “My family’s here, with you. I’m not going anywhere. I’m never leaving you, Chris. Ever.”
Chris believes him; JC’s never let him down.
~*~*~*~
“We do the same thing everyday; why can’t I go with Lance? Or JC?” Justin scowls as he talks and Chris scowls back.
“You know why. You’re too young to do the magazine thing. Lance just got a place on the scheme and the last thing he needs is you hanging around.” Justin starts to protest but Chris talks over him. “I know you’d try and keep out the way, but face it, Justin. You’re a distraction.”
“So I go with JC. I’d make sure no one took his money,” Justin says, and Chris sighs. He feels old and tired this morning. It’s cold and all his joints ache after days of unending rain. Food is scarce because no wants to stop and listen to him sing when it’s wet, and JC’s pictures wash away as fast as he draws them. It’s only Joey’s -- and now Lance’s -- money from selling magazines that keeps them going, and even then the money they make doesn’t stretch far between five people.
Justin paces in front of Chris. He’s changed since Chris first saw him, face drawn and his eyes sunken and shadowed, but he’s still a kid. Chris never forgets that, not that he can when Justin pouts when he can’t get his own way.
“How many times do I have to say?” Chris says as he ducks into his shelter and starts to angrily push things aside, looking for something to tie his hair back. “You know Elroy’s been seen. He’s dangerous, Justin.”
“Says you.” Justin kneels so he can see inside Chris and JC’s shelter, ignoring JC as he sketches on a pizza box lid, blankets bundled round him. “It’s been months since I saw him. You’re paranoid, just because you have some kind of history with him.”
“I’d rather be paranoid than…” Justin cuts Chris off.
“Than dead, I know. You say it often enough. But you know what, Chris? I haven’t seen one thing that suggests Elroy’s this bogeyman that you say. You might be frightened of him; I’m not.”
Justin stands and Chris grits his teeth. He wants to beat his fists against the ground, or better still against Justin’s head.
“He doesn’t understand.” JC puts down the box and Chris sees he’s drawn the beach, complete with sunshine and sparkling sea, no rain in sight. “If he can’t see it, he doesn’t know it’s there.”
“I should have made them go home.” Chris sits so he’s resting against JC, letting JC take all his weight.
“They wouldn’t have gone, and better with us than on their own.” JC lets the chalk he’s using drop and drapes his arm over Chris’ shoulder. His fingers are bright blue and Chris laughs when he sees JC’s hand print on his forearm.
“You putting my mark on me?” Chris asks, and JC smiles.
“I marked you a long time ago; you just never saw.” JC wipes his hand on his blanket then uses it to turn Chris’ head, so they’re face to face. “Everything’s going to be fine. Lance loves selling magazines and Justin will grow up eventually.”
“I just hope I can last that long.”
“Course you can,” JC says, then kisses Chris before pushing the blankets from his knee and standing up in one fluid movement. “Come on. We’d better go before our little businessman gets antsy. I’d hate for him to miss a sale.”
“I heard that,” Lance yells from outside. Chris knows he’ll be hiding his suitcase; he does it every morning, pushing it behind Joey’s shelter before they all leave for the day. Lance has changed too, he’s more confident and hard edged, but sometimes Chris misses the boy Lance used to be, the one who wouldn’t think of leaving his suitcase behind. Chris crawls out of his shelter and smiles for the first time that morning when he sees Lance looking around the corner of Joey’s shelter, expression indignant. As he smiles Chris forgets the argument with Justin for now. But only for now; he knows it’s just a matter of time before it’s brought up again.
~*~*~*~
“Come on, Chris. We haven’t done anything fun for ages. All I ever do is come here with you, go to the soup kitchen, then back to the shelter,” Justin says as he shoves the flyer at Chris again, who shoves it straight back.
“What part of no don’t you understand?” Chris replies, feet splashing through the puddles as he paces, unable to stand still as Justin reads the flyer again.
“There’s rides and side stalls. There’ll be cotton candy and toffee apples. Do you know how long it is since I’ve had stuff like that?” Justin asks as he looks at Chris.
“We can’t afford it, Justin.”
“So we’ll go to look at the rides, and I’ll steal some cotton candy. Fairs are always crowded; no one will see.”
“No,” Chris says. He’s horrified by how casually Justin mentions stealing, but also angry. Justin won’t listen and Chris can’t make him understand how dangerous it is. “Elroy and his kind hang out at fairs like that.”
“Elroy. Elroy. Elroy. I don’t know what your obsession is with him, but it’s getting old. But you know what? Screw this. I’m not spending another day listening to you sing. I’ll see you when I get home,” Justin yells, and he turns and runs along the street.
Within seconds Chris is running after him, but Justin’s faster and soon disappears into the crowd. Chris keeps running; he’s furious and adrenalin mixed with fear keeps him running long after his legs start to burn and he gasps for breath.
Chris hears the fair long before he sees it. The sidewalks are crowded with people and Chris shouts apologies as he pushes past them. He needs to find Justin before Elroy or someone like him does; and they will, Justin’s too much of a target, obviously alone obviously young and worst of all, clearly living on the streets. Chris has seen too many people disappear because no one cares what happens to them, and that’s not going to happen to Justin.
“Sorry. Excuse me. Coming through,” Chris says as he runs past side stalls and rides. Knowing Justin could be anywhere, Chris walks quickly, looking at every person. But Justin’s nowhere to be seen, so Chris moves away from the main area, looking behind rides, searching the places that usually remain unseen.
“Kirkpatrick. Fancy seeing you here.” Elroy steps from behind a caravan, sneering at Chris. He looks bigger than ever, and the rings on his fat fingers gleam in the light as he pushes back his greasy hair. “I told you I’d pay you back one day, and it looks like that day has come.”
Chris backs away slightly; he looks around, but they’re in an almost deserted area, and the people that do see them quickly look away. Chris knows he’s on his own and he prepares to fight as Elroy moves closer, brown teeth showing as he smiles.
“I can still beat your fat ass,” Chris says, and Elroy laughs as he pulls something from his pocket.
“I’m sure you can, but see, I’ve got an advantage. In a way you did me a favour snitching on me to the police. While I was inside I met some, how shall we say, interesting people. They taught me the best way to fight, and you know what? It isn’t with fists.” Elroy holds something in the air, and Chris prepares to run when he sees the wicked looking knife in his hand. “I don’t think so. Dan, get him.”
Chris tries to run at Elroy’s words, but it’s too late. He’s held by someone who grips him painfully round the chest, trapping his arms at his side. Chris kicks and bites, but he can’t escape and Elroy moves close. He’s not smiling now; instead he stands inches from Chris, then spits in his face.
“I’ve waited for this day a long time.”
“You’re still a pervert who can’t even take me on his own,” Chris yells back. He’s furious at himself for being stupid enough to get caught but also scared, thoughts of his friends in his mind.
“True. But who cares? This is payment for the time he you kicked me in the balls.” Elroy brings his hand back and smashes his fist into Chris’ jaw. “And this is for prison.”
Chris doesn’t feel the blade sink into his belly, but he sees his blood on the blade when Elroy holds it in the air. Then his legs buckle and he falls to the ground when the arms around his chest let go.
“Hey, stop!” Someone yells, and Chris hears someone running toward them. He shivers, feeling blood trickle down his chin, but tries to stand when Elroy bends over him.
“That’s one down, one to go, Kirkpatrick. That freak you fuck is next.”
Elroy runs and Chris keeps trying to stand. His head pounds, his jaw nothing except white hot pain, but he keeps moving, standing on wobbly legs. Hands try to stop him, shouting about ambulances and police, but all Chris can think about is JC, and he starts to run, gasping with pain at every step.
Chris’ only focus is JC. He’s scared – terrified – and it’s that fear that keeps him running when all he wants to do is drop to the ground and surrender to the darkness. Something wet drips on his neck and Chris wipes at it with his arm, then swallows hard when he sees blood smeared across JC’s handprint, red mixed with blue.
“JC!” Chris yells when he reaches the street JC’s working, then yells again. Chris prays he’s got the wrong street when he can’t see JC, but as he looks down he sees a half-finished unicorn, rearing in a sea of flames. Chalks are crushed into the sidewalk and JC’s sunflower bag lies on its side, contents spilling out. Chris falls to his hands and knees as he collapses on the unicorn, JC’s name on his lips.
~*~*~*~
“Chris? Fuck…”
“Is he?”
“No! No, he’s not.”
“It’s okay, I’ve got you…”
“Will you people get the fuck back!”
“Don’t you dare leave me now…”
“…need to tell me where JC is.”
“Lance, will you get those fuckers back. Get back!”
“…can’t leave me. If you go so’ll JC and I need you both. Hear that, you fucker? Don’t you dare give up.”
“Damn, Chris. I love you, man. Don’t do this to me.”
Chris wants to talk, to tell Joey he’s going nowhere, but all he can do is lie still, cradled in Joey’s arms. He keeps his eyes closed; it’s too much effort to keep them open, and lets his cheek rest against the rough fabric of Joey’s sweater.
Lance is near; Chris can hear him, not so much words, but the tone, deep and comforting to his ears, then someone takes his hand, and Chris thinks it’s Lance. But he doesn’t check; he can’t.
“We’re gonna go to the hospital,” Joey says and Chris feels the vibration against his cheek as Joey talks. “Get you fixed up.”
“No.” Chris manages to gasp the word out, forcing it past his dry throat and swollen jaw, “JC.”
“We’ll find him, after you go to the hospital.”
Chris tries to move, weakly struggling in Joey’s arms. He’s cold, and clenches the hand holding his desperately, trying to ride out the pain that threatens to engulf him. “No. Need to find him now.” But Joey’s too strong and won’t let go.
“Listen to me, Chris,” Joey says. “We’ll find JC. Promise. But I can’t look for him while you’re like this; you’re bleeding a hell of a lot.”
The sound of a siren is the last thing Chris hears before he slips into darkness once more.
~*~*~*~
“He’s a John Doe. No ID. He came in with someone, but they took off.”
Chris feels hands on his body, pressing, touching, hurting. He wants to shake them off and moves his hand weakly.
“Hey, honey. Are you with us?” A woman’s voice asks and Chris feels hands on him again, gentle this time as they touch his arm. “You’re going to be fine. You’re a lucky man. Whoever did this to you missed everything important. Someone up there is looking after you.”
Chris doesn’t feel lucky, he hurts and all he can think of is JC. He tries to open his eyes, but he’s so tired. Chris fights as hard as he can, but it’s a fight he can’t win, and he sleeps once more.
~*~*~*~
“Chris…Chris, wake up.”
Chris groans as someone gently shakes him. Opening his eyes, he carefully moves his head, gritting his teeth against the throb in his jaw and belly. Joey is looking down at him, face worried as he looks from Chris to the door.
“I had to sneak in to see you; they were asking me our names earlier, it’s why me and Lance had to leave.” Joey looks away. “I didn’t want to; you were so still, and there was so much blood, but they kept asking. I didn’t want to…”
“Hey, it’s okay, I know” Chris says as he starts to sit up. Moving makes the pain flare again and he bites back a curse as Joey tries to make him lie down again. “No, help me up. We have to get out of here, now.”
“Chris, you can’t. You’re sick. You need to stay here,” Joey says and he tries to make Chris lie down in bed again.
“I can, and I have to. I have to find JC, Joey.” Chris is finally upright and he slowly turns in bed, keeping his body as straight as possible as he pulls the covers back. “There’s no way I can stay here when he’s missing. You have to know that.”
“I’ll find him for you.” Joey says, but he sounds resigned as he looks at Chris.
“I know you will. But I can’t just stay here” Chris looks pleadingly at Joey. The need to get out and find JC is a physical ache, as real as the pain in his side and jaw. Joey looks undecided, but finally moves to help Chris turn on the bed so his legs are hanging off the side. Chris reaches for Joey’s arm, in part to show thanks, but also for balance as his world tilts crazily. Joey looks worried as he holds Chris steady, and Chris knows he’s seconds away from being put back into bed. “Look, I’ll go to the clinic tomorrow and let them check me out.”
“You’re damn right you will; I’ll carry you there on my back if I have to. It’s the only reason I’m agreeing to this.”
Chris looks around the room. “Can you see my clothes anywhere?”
Joey searches the room, quietly opening cupboard doors until he sees Chris’ clothes. He puts them on the bed and Chris blushes as Joey efficiently helps him put on his underwear and pants.
“Your t-shirt’s a bust.” Joey holds up Chris’ t-shirt, which is cut in half down the front. “Here, wear this.”
Joey pulls his sweater off and carefully threads Chris’ arms in the sleeves, softly murmuring sorry as Chris winces with each movement. The sweater is baggy on Joey so it dwarfs Chris, hanging down to mid thigh, but Chris appreciates the warmth.
“Thanks.” Chris looks down at Joey who’s fastening Chris’ sneakers.
“Don’t mention it. You did this and more for me,” Joey says, then stands. “I don’t like this, Chris. You look like you could collapse any minute.”
“You don’t have to like it. But I’m walking out of here with or without your help.” Chris stands, almost falling to the bed when a wave of dizziness hits him again.
“Yeah, like you can walk out of here alone.” Joey hooks Chris’ arm over his shoulder, making sure it’s on his uninjured side. “I said I’ll help, but you’re going back to the shelter to rest. That’s not up for debate.”
“But JC…” Chris says, and sags against Joey when he remembers crushed chalk and unfinished unicorns.
“JC can take care of himself, you know that. It’s you I’m worried about now. The only reason I’m taking you know is because I know you’ll just try to walk out yourself as soon as I go” Joey starts to walk slowly, then stops. “This is stupid, we’re never going to get away at this speed. Stay here, I’m gonna get a wheelchair.”
Joey helps Chris sit again, then looks out of the door before quietly walking out. All Chris can do is watch him go, nervously picking at the blankets until Joey comes back into the room, pushing a wheelchair.
“Your ride, sir.” Joey pushes the wheelchair close to the bed, then helps Chris sit in it. “You ready? I might have to run so hold on tight.”
Chris nods, then looks wide-eyed as Joey pulls the blankets from the bed. “You can’t take those.”
“Hey, we need them more than they do,” Joey says, then puts the blankets on Chris’ lap. “I’ll bring them back with the wheelchair if it worries you that much, but we need them, you know we do.”
Chris is torn; he hates the thought of taking things, but also knows the blankets are desperately needed. Then he thinks of JC and the way he shivers as they sleep, so he nods then holds onto the armrest as tight as he can when Joey starts to push him forward and out of the door.
“Hey! You wait!” someone shouts; Joey curses and starts to run. All Chris can do is hold on as Joey speeds along corridors, taking corners so fast that Chris shuts his eyes.
“Open the door!” Joey yells, and Chris cringes when he opens his eyes to see them hurtling toward the main door. It’s close but the door opens as they get near, and Chris laughs with Joey as they run into the night.
“That was close,” says Joey. He’s still running but slows down when they’re a few blocks from the hospital. “You okay?”
Chris doesn’t answer at first. He’s too busy trying to breathe without screaming with pain. “I’ll live.”
“Good,” Joey says; he sounds unsure, but keeps on walking at a brisk pace. “I’ll take you back to the shelter; Lance and Justin will be going out of their minds by now.”
“Justin.” Chris can’t believe he forgot about him, and he tries to look back at Joey, giving up when pain slices through him again.
“Hey, sit still.” Joey lays a gentle hand on Chris’ shoulder. “Justin’s fine. He was at the shelter eating cotton candy when Lance and I went back from the hospital.”
“Is he okay?”
“Yeah. He got a bit hysterical when we told him what happened. Kept saying it was his fault and he was sorry. Lance slapped him in the end.” Joey stops speaking, and Chris knows he’s thinking. “I don’t get it. JC’s missing, you get mugged and Justin thinks it’s his fault.”
“I didn’t get mugged. It was Elroy,” Chris explains. He flinches as Joey’s hand tightens on his shoulder. “He said he was going after JC next, that’s why I have to find him.”
“Fuck!” Joey starts moving again, but faster this time. “But what’s that got to do with Justin?”
“I guess he feels guilty about running away from me to go to the fair.”
“He did what?” Joey questions. He sounds angry and Chris explains.
“He wanted to go to the fair, see the rides and eat some cotton candy. It’s not his fault, Joey. He’s a kid; he wanted to have some fun.”
“That fun almost got you killed and maybe JC too.”
“But I wasn’t,” Chris says, as he hugs the blankets on his knee close. “And JC’s fine, he’s not dead; I’d know.”
“Chris…” Joey says, but Chris cuts him off.
“Don’t. He’s missing but he’s fine, and I’m going to find him” Chris says no more, and Joey keeps on walking. They both know Chris will find JC if it’s the last thing he does.
~*~*~*~
“Chris.” Lance jumps to his feet and runs toward them. Chris is standing with Joey’s help, and he manages a small smile when Lance stares at him critically. “You look like hell. Why did you let him come home, Joey?”
“Hey, don’t blame me.” Joey holds up one hand. “He insisted.”
“You’re an idiot,” Lance says as he looks at Chris. Then he carefully hugs him, resting his head against Chris’ shoulder as he whispers, “I was so scared.”
“You’re not the only one,” Chris whispers back. Lance lifts his head and Chris is reminded how young he really is as he sees unshed tears glistening in Lance’s eyes. “I’m okay, a bit battered maybe, but I’m fine, believe me.”
Lance looks unsure, but says nothing.
“Can you go get the blankets that are on the wheelchair near the fence?” Joey asks. Lance looks at him quizzically but goes anyway. “I’m gonna get you settled in your shelter, then go look for JC.”
Joey moves, but stops when Chris stays still. Chris is looking at the shelters and knows there’s no way he can go into his own without JC. There are too many reminders of him in there, pictures and clothes, scraps of paper and JC’s favourite blanket. Chris can’t go in -- not yet.
“What’s up?” Joey questions, looking to see what Chris is staring at.
“I can’t…JC.” Chris can’t say anymore, but Joey seems to realise what he means.
“You want to sleep in mine tonight? I’ll get Lance to put the new blankets in there.” Joey says, changing direction slightly as Chris nods. “I’m going to go look for JC soon. Lance will be here if you need anything.”
Lance walks past with an armful of blankets and Joey points to his own shelter. “Put them in there; make the ground as soft as possible.”
“No problem.” Lance ducks into Joey’s shelter, and Chris can hear him moving around before he shouts, “I’m done.”
Lance and Joey help Chris into the shelter and soon he’s lying on a soft pile of blankets with others piled over him. He hurts, but the pain in his jaw and belly is nothing compared to the pain in his heart.
“I’m going now,” Joey says, bending close to Chris’ face. “If he’s out there, I’ll find him.”
“I know,” Chris says, and he does. He trusts Joey completely.
“Look after him,” Joey says to Lance. With a last look back, he ducks out of the shelter. Lance watches the door for a moment, then sits next to Chris, careful not to bang against him.
“Where’s Justin?” Chris asks finally, breaking the uneasy silence.
“He’s in our shelter. I think he’s scared to see you.”
Chris bites back a sigh. He doesn’t want to deal with this now, but he can’t let Justin lie alone, thinking he’s hated. “Go tell him to come in here.”
Lance says nothing, just stands and ducks out. Chris hears him enter his own shelter before telling Justin he’s wanted. Chris thinks Justin’s not going to come, but Lance keeps talking, and soon Chris looks up to see Justin crouched at the doorway.
Justin looks younger than Chris has ever seen him, eyes red and swollen as he looks at the ground. There’s no way that Chris can stay angry with him, and he pats the space next to him. “Come here then.” Justin looks up slightly and his face crumples as he looks at Chris.
“I’m sorry,” Justin says through his tears, before carefully sitting next to Chris. “I wanted to eat cotton candy again, just once. I didn’t think this would happen. I just wanted cotton candy, Chris. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” Chris pulls his arm from under the blankets and reaches for Justin, holding him in a one armed hug. “I’m good; I don’t blame you.”
“But JC…” Justin says. His tears are soaking into Joey’s sweater, but Chris keeps holding him, letting Justin cry himself out. “He’s missing, and…”
“JC’ll be fine,” says Chris as much to convince himself as Justin. “He’s stronger than he looks, probably stronger than us all.”
“You sure?” Justin doesn’t sound convinced, and Chris can’t blame him. The way JC looks and acts fools a lot of people.
“I’m positive,” Chris says. He squirms on the blankets, trying to get comfortable -- something that seems impossible -- while Justin keeps looking at him, as if he can’t believe Chris’ words. “He’s beat Elroy once; he’ll do it again.”
“Elroy!” shouts Justin, and Chris remembers that Justin doesn’t know.
“Yeah, it was him that did this.”
“So this is my fault” Justin says as his whole body visibly quivers.
“If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine for letting him catch me,” Chris says, his eyes closing against his will. All he wants to do is sleep, but he’s not going to do that while Justin’s one step away from a breakdown. “Where’s Lance?”
“He’s in our shelter, I think,” Justin says, then shouts. “Lance!”
Chris winces at the shout, then holds his hand up when Justin looks like he’s going to start apologising again. “Don’t even say it, okay?”
“You want something?” Lance questions, and Chris points to the one free spot in the shelter beside Justin.
“Come and talk to me; take my mind off things.”
“What do you want me to say?” Lance asks and Chris smiles tiredly.
“Anything, tell me where you and Justin went on your first date, and give your boyfriend a hug while you’re there, I think he needs one.”
Lance looks from Chris to Justin then squeezes next to Justin, holding him round his waist. “It’s a funny story, Justin asked me for a burger; then when he went to pay, he didn’t have his wallet.”
“Hey, I’d forgotten it, that’s all,” Justin protests, poking Lance in his side. “It wasn’t on purpose.”
“That’s what you say; I still think you did it because you’re cheap.”
Chris smiles at Justin’s shout of outrage, then sleeps, the voices of his friends in his ears.
Part 3
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Date: 2004-03-26 07:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-03-27 03:13 am (UTC)You give awesome feedback.
I'm glad you think the characterisation works, it's something I worry about when doing an AU.
Of course you can rec it. I'm honoured that you've even asked. Thank you.
Ohhhh, still *SO* good....
Date: 2004-03-26 08:05 pm (UTC)And I have to apologize, I said I would beta this for you as you went along, then said I'd do it all at once since you were almost done, and I haven't done either. And the mechanical mistakes I noticed are still here, so I actually WROTE THEM DOWN as I read it this time, so I could tell you.
warming up- Chris takes a deep "breath", not "breathe". noun, not verb.
McDonalds- "Ignore them," says, JC. Shouldn't be a comma there.
McD's, Joey "It's probably a good job" Americans say THING, not job! :D
hospital, Joey "reason I'm taking you know is I know" should be "now is I"
shelter: Justin's body VISIBLY quakes, not "visually" (not a mirage! lol)
I'll go back with my red pen of death if you want, I PROMISE!(bad me!)
Re: Ohhhh, still *SO* good....
Date: 2004-03-28 09:39 am (UTC)Actually, looking at it, they're all from a section I changed after the beta which explains that *g* I'll change them now.
Arghhh the breathe/breath thing is killing me *bangs head on desk*
Thanks, hon.
Re: Ohhhh, still *SO* good....
Date: 2004-03-28 10:41 am (UTC)