Boxes (Lambs TrickC ) AU Part 3/3

[turps]

“You need something?” Lance asks. He’s pressed close to Chris, body hot and solid and Justin is next to him, hand entwined with Lance’s.

“Bathroom.” Chris manages to croak the word and Lance nods before pulling himself free from Justin’s hold.

“I’ve got you,” Lance says, and he pulls the blankets off Chris, helping him to his feet. Chris sways and holds onto Lance as they stagger out, biting back cries of pain. It’s a slow journey to the bathroom corner and Lance turns away as Chris pees, then they slowly walk back.

A noise from the fence makes them stop, and they both look up.

“Joey?” Lance questions. “Is that you?”

“No. It’s me.”

Chris feels his legs buckle and it’s only Lance’s hold that keeps him up. “JC?”

“The one and only,” JC says as he walks round the corner. He’s dirty, clothes covered in mud and his hair plastered to his head, but to Chris he looks beautiful.

JC runs to Chris, looking up sharply when Lance says be careful, he’s hurt. His movements are gentle as he reaches for Chris, taking him in his arms.

“I knew you were okay” says Chris, resting his head against JC’s chest.

“I told you I’d never leave you and I never break a promise,” JC says, kissing Chris’ forehead. “I’ll never leave you, ever.”

And Chris believes him.

~*~*~*~

“Come on, you look like you need to lie down,” JC says, and he starts to help Chris toward their shelter.

“Hold on,” Lance says, holding piles of blankets in his arms. “Wait until I put these in there.”

JC stops and pulls Chris close to him as Lance ducks into their shelter and JC holds Chris’ hand, tracing lines on his palm with his fingers while they wait.

“JC!” Justin shouts, and he barrels out of Joey’s shelter, tripping over his own feet in his haste to stand up straight and reach JC. “You’re okay. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to, I thought….”

JC holds up his hand, stopping Justin from crashing into them, Justin’s face crumples, until JC says, “It’s okay, it’s just. Take it slow, okay.”

”Sorry, I didn’t think,” Justin says, as he approaches slowly. He appears scared, looking from Chris to JC, and stops when he’s within reach of them, but comes no further. “Sorry, I’m so sorry.”

“Justin, come here,” says Chris. He reaches for Justin, pulling him close. Justin hesitates for a moment, and Chris thinks he’s going to run, but he moves at last. Justin’s arms go around Chris and JC. He buries his face against Chris’ shoulder, murmuring I’m sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, and Chris feels hot tears soak through Joey’s sweater.

“It’s okay, we’re good,” Chris whispers, comforted by the feel of JC’s hand against his back.

“Hey, come here.” Chris looks up and sees JC is beckoning to Lance who’s standing watching them. Lance doesn’t even hesitate a moment, almost running before putting his arms round Justin and JC. They stand in a loose circle and no one speaks; Chris can’t, no words could ever convey what he feels.

“Where’s Joey?” JC questions at last and the group breaks up with lingering touches and smiles.

“Looking for you,” Lance replies. Chris doesn’t miss the worried look on JC’s face and opens his mouth, about to ask questions when Lance cuts him off. “You need to go lie down, Chris, and we’d better do something about JC’s hands.”

“No, they’re fine,” JC says, but Chris finally sees what Lance has, bloody scrapes on JC’s knuckles.

“No they’re not.” Chris gently lifts JC’s hands up, holding them up and looking at them carefully. “We need to go wash those. Then you tell me where the hell you’ve been.”

“Close,” Lance says as he looks at Chris. “I’ll go with JC as he gets washed up; you’ll go and lie down before you fall down. Justin will stay with you.”

Chris wants to protest, the thought of being apart from JC even a minute is something that causes him physical pain. The problem is, he doesn’t think he could walk another step; he needs to lie down and ride out the pain that’s beginning to get overwhelming.

JC seems to sense that and turns to Lance, assuring him, “They’re fine.”

Lance looks determined, insisting, “You need to go.”

Chris knows he’s right. “You should go, JC. Me and Justin will wait here.” Chris gently kisses JC’s hand, careful not to touch any of the scrapes. “Get washed while you’re there.”

“You saying I stink?” JC questions before smiling, a huge wide grin that Chris can’t help responding to. “I’m going, I just want to get you tucked in first.”

Chris thinks about protesting he’s not a child, but gives in to JC’s fussing as he gets him settled on a pile of blankets. JC looks quizzically at one of the new hospital blankets, but shrugs and carefully drapes it over Chris, tucking it under his chin.

“I won’t be long,” JC says, then bends and kisses Chris. JC tastes like blood mixed with mud and Chris almost pulls back, but as the kiss deepens, the taste disappears. I love you says JC, words mouthed against Chris’ lips.

“Love you too, now go.” Chris doesn’t think JC’s going to go at first, then he touches Chris’ face, palm warm on Chris’ cheek before walking out of the shelter. Justin comes in as soon as he’s gone, expression serious as he looks at Chris.

“If you say you’re sorry one more time I’m gonna kick your ass.” Chris wants to laugh at how fast Justin snaps his mouth shut, but he doesn’t, he just watches as Justin stays at the shelter door. “I thought we got past this, but I guess not. Come and sit down, keep me company.”

“Okay,” Justin says slowly as he sits next to Chris. Justin’s silent and Chris is almost asleep when he speaks again. “I won’t do it again. Promise.”

“I know.” Chris believes him. “You’re a good kid.”

“I’m not a kid.” The response is automatic now and they both smile as Justin lies down, feet crossed as he stares at the ceiling of the shelter, probably looking at the clouds and sun JC has drawn there. Chris feels himself drifting; all he can hear is Justin’s breathing and the soft chime of the CDs JC hung up as they clink together outside. Within minutes he’s asleep.

~*~*~*~

“Don’t they look cute?”

Chris hears Joey’s voice and opens his eyes; he blinks when he sees Justin’s face an inch from his own, so close Chris can see every freckle and feel every breath. Justin’s arm is thrown across Chris’ body, heavy against his side and Chris squirms a little, trying to see Joey. The movement wakes Justin, who stares at Chris with half open eyes before rolling away from him.

“Sorry,” Justin says with a blush. He then sits up, looking at Joey. “Hey, you’re back.”

“Observant little thing, aren’t you?” Joey smiles, then winks at Justin. “Yeah, I bumped into Lance and JC and we went for supplies. We come bearing gifts.”

Joey holds up a bag and Chris squints at it, trying to see where it’s from.

“You got food?” he asks, then grins when Joey nods.

“That and other stuff.” Joey puts the bag down, then ducks into the shelter, “Here, let’s get you sitting up a bit, then we can all get in.”

Joey helps Chris sit so he’s resting against a pile of clothes, then pushes stacks of scrap paper aside so they can all fit in the shelter. They don’t do this often; despite Chris and JC’s modifications, it’s still only a huge packing box and as such doesn’t have much space. But sometimes they need to be together, like today. It takes some rearranging, but soon Lance is sitting with Justin next to him, while JC climbs over them all so he can sit close to Chris. Joey is near the door, legs tucked under Chris’ blankets, JC’s feet in his lap.

“Where were you, JC?” asks Justin, but JC shakes his head.

“I’ll tell you in a minute. Let’s get this sorted first.” JC looks better, his hair is damp, curling at the nape of his neck, and he’s wearing a t-shirt from Lance’s case. Each one of JC’s knuckles is covered in a brightly coloured band-aid printed with pictures of penguins, and he shows them to Chris -- fingers splayed -- as he gets himself comfortable.

Joey empties the bag onto his lap and Chris sees medical supplies and a lot of snack food. Joey rummages through it and throws a box of painkillers at JC, who catches it and pops out enough tablets for him and Chris. They swallow them dry, then Chris sits back and watches as Joey passes around food. There are chips, candy and drinks, and Chris’ stomach rumbles as Joey passes him a large packet of chips and a bottle of soda.

“I got you the kind of chips that melt in your mouth; I figured it’d be easier on your jaw.”

Chris smiles his thanks and pulls open the packet, then lets the chips dissolve on his tongue. JC is eating chips too, sucking at his fingers after each one, while Joey, Lance and Justin eat M&Ms from large packets.

“Did you have money from your magazines sales?” Chris asks, then stares at Joey when he looks away.

“No. We…well. It’s just…” says Joey, then Lances answers Chris’ question.

“What he’s trying to say is we stole them. Joey distracted the assistant and I took what we needed.” Lance sounds as if it’s something that they do everyday, but it’s not, and Chris looks from Lance to Joey, objection forming in his mind. “Don’t even Chris. We need this stuff and I’d do it again in an instant.”

Lance’s expression is obstinate. Chris wants to challenge him, but he knows Lance is right. It still doesn’t make it feel right, and Chris eyes his chips, debating pushing them to one side before his practical side takes over.

“Just don’t do it again, okay.” Chris warns, as he keeps on eating chips, trying to push away the feelings of hypocrisy. Lance doesn’t answer, just keeps on eating M&Ms.

“So you gonna tell us now?” Justin asks. He’s looking at JC, and JC looks back at him before eating the last chip and emptying the crumbs into his mouth.

“I guess,” JC replies as he carefully folds the packet up, pushing it toward the back of the shelter. “It’s not that big a deal. I was just about to put the flames on my picture, did you see it? My theme was innocence consumed by fire; I didn’t even finish it.”

“And?” Lance prompts, when it looks like JC is going to dwell on the unfinished nature of his picture.

“I was bending over, thinking about how nicely the red was contrasting with the darkness of the sidewalk, then someone grabbed me by the arm.” JC rubs at his arm as he speaks, and Chris tenses, thinking about Elroy’s fat fingers on JC’s skin. “I thought I was being mugged again, but when I looked it was that bastard Elroy. He pulled me up and said we were going for a walk. Then he stepped on my chalks; he ground them into the sidewalk on purpose.”

There’s a painful silence in the shelter as JC stops talking and Chris’ fingers clench into fists as JC searches for the right words. “There was this other guy with him, big and stupid looking, so I had to go with them.”

“Did they hurt you?” asks, Joey, and Chris prepares himself for the answer, knowing if JC says yes, he’ll hunt Elroy down and kill him.

“No,” replies JC, and he turns to Chris, staring at him. “They made me walk to our park. He said he’d killed you and I didn’t believe him, then he showed me this knife and it had blood on and I was so mad. No one touches you, no one! I don’t think he expected me to punch him, but I did. I imagined him sticking that knife in you and lashed out. You should have seen me, Chris. You would have been proud.”

“I’m always proud,” says Chris, and it’s true.

JC smiles and kisses Chris quickly on his cheek. “I know. Anyway, he fell and I ran. His friend chased me for a long time; I had to jump in the stream at the park to get away in the end. I wanted to come home hours ago, but I didn’t want to lead him here if they were hanging around. So I sat on a park bench and waited.”

“You did good, man.” says, Joey, but JC shakes his head.

“No. Really, it was instinct more than anything. He sounded so happy about hurting Chris, I lashed out.” Reaching for Chris, JC links hands as he finishes his story. “I knew you weren’t dead, that was the only thing that gave me the strength to wait.”

“You knew?” Chris questions, and JC nods, looking only at him. “I told you I marked you a long time ago. You’re mine, Chris, I’d know if something happened. I would have known in the park if I hadn’t panicked. Nothing will separate us, ever.”

JC sounds convinced and Chris believes him; he’ll be the first person in Chris’ life not to leave him. He’s sure of it.

~*~*~*~

“You shouldn’t do this,” Chris says, looking at Lance as he ducks into the shelter. But Lance doesn’t reply, just sticks his hand down into his magazine bag and pulls out tins of food and small bottles of soda. Lance shoplifts everyday now and Chris worries every time, the worry settling next to the guilt Chris carries for not being able to stop him.

“I have to,” Lance says, and he methodically stacks tins at the side of the shelter. “You can’t sing, JC won’t leave you. What are we supposed to do? I’m not gonna let us starve when we can eat.”

“It’s wrong,” Chris says weakly, because he knows Lance is right. They can’t exist on the money that Joey and Lance make, and JC hasn’t left Chris’ side in two weeks.

“Maybe it is. Doesn’t mean I’m gonna stop.” Lance kneels and looks at Chris. “Justin smiles when I give him trashy magazines, JC doesn’t look like a walking skeleton anymore. That’s why I do it. Anyway, you can’t tell me you’ve never stolen anything. What about when your mom left?”

“I didn’t steal then, either,” Chris says as he rubs at his belly, trying to conquer the maddening itch that never seems to leave. Lance looks disbelieving and Chris waits for the inevitable questions.

“You were what, thirteen when she left? And you’re trying to tell me you came here and didn’t steal. What did you eat?” Lance asks, and Chris sighs softly, unwilling to dredge up memories that he prefers to be hidden. But Lance is still looking, so Chris decides to tell him something, maybe one of the memories that doesn’t scar so much.

“You know I hitched here; it was easy to take food from the trashcans at truck stops, and sometimes people would buy me food. It’s no big deal; when you’re hungry you’ll eat anything.” Chris says, then wants to look away from the expression on Lance’s face.

“You ate from the trash?”

“Well, yeah. If you’re starving, you’ll do anything,” Chris says, then holds up a hand as Lance starts to speak. “Anything but steal anyway. It’s not something I can do or agree with.”

“Well, I can,” Lance says. He looks sorry but Chris knows he won’t stop or change his mind. “I don’t take much. Food and medicine, I’m hurting no one, Chris.”

Lance walks out and Chris stares at the pile of food, trying to remember the Lance of months ago, but that Lance is long gone, sacrificed for food and survival.

“Chris?” Chris looks up and sees Justin crouching in the doorway. “Can I talk to you?”

“You are, aren’t you?” Chris asks, then laughs when Justin looks blank before realisation hits him. “Yeah, sure, come in and sit.”

Justin sits next to Chris and starts twisting his t-shirt in his hands. He looks nervous, looking anywhere but at Chris. “I wanted to ask. It’s just. You and JC. When, you know. How, when you need, you know, things.”

“I haven’t got a clue what you just said, kid,” says Chris, and he puts his hand over Justin’s, stopping him twisting the material more. “Take it slow and ask me again.”

“You and JC, you sleep together, right, in that way, I mean.”

“If you mean we fuck, yeah, we do. Not for a while though; he seems to think he’ll hurt me if he fucks me. I keep telling him he’s not that fantastic, but he still won’t.” Chris is relieved to see Justin laugh a little, a smile replacing the frown he’s been wearing.

“So where do you get your, uh, supplies?” Justin blushes and Chris bites at the inside of his bottom lip so he doesn’t laugh. “I’ve got one rubber, but I’ve been carrying it around a few years, so I don’t know how good it’ll be.”

“How many years?” asks Chris with curiosity. Justin blushes even redder.

“Four,” he replies and glares when Chris bursts out laughing. “I just wanted to be ready. But if you’re going to laugh at me, I’ll ask JC.”

“No, I’m sorry,” says Chris, and he forces himself to stop laughing. “Me and JC were tested at the free clinic a couple of years ago, so we don’t use rubbers now. But the clinic gives them out; ask Joey to take you, he goes there for his supplies. They give out sample tubes of lube too; you need that if you’re going to sleep with Lance.”

“Who said I’m gonna sleep with Lance?” Justin says and he buries his head in his hands. “I could have slept with him already.”

“Remember that day you kept bitching that me and C kept you up all night?” Chris asks and Justin nods his head. “That works both ways.”

Chris feels bad when Justin’s ears turn bright red, but Justin shakes his head a little, then takes his hands away from his face. “So I haven’t slept with him yet; I was waiting for a special time, and it’s his birthday next week so I thought we’d do it then. But if you’re not going to help.”

“Hold on there, kid, I never said I wouldn’t help. I think that’s the best present you could give him; he’s a lucky man.” Justin smiles wide and Chris scratches at his belly again before getting comfortable. “Now what do you want to know? And tell me about Bass’ birthday.”

~*~*~*~

“Do you think he’ll like it?” JC asks, and Chris hugs him from behind, linking his hands across JC’s belly.

“He’ll love it.” Chris looks at the picture JC has just finished, with its brilliant colours and painstaking details. JC has been painting it for weeks, sitting up late at night, eyes squinting in the dim light of a torch that Chris held. Now it’s finished, a picture of them all watching a fireworks display, standing shoulder to shoulder as they look at the sky.

“Is Justin ready?” JC smiles and Chris knows he’s thinking of Justin, who’s been jumpy all day.

“I think if he was any more ready, he’d burst. He’s gonna come in ten seconds if he doesn’t calm down,” Chris says, laughing as he remembers how excited Justin is. “He’s checked his supplies about fifty times and reminded me twice that we all have to make an excuse and leave after the celebration dinner. I’m sure Lance thinks he’s insane.”

“That’s because he is insane.” Joey looks down from the milk crate he’s standing on. He’s stringing a happy birthday banner made of pizza lids between the two walls, garish letters printed on each lid. “At least you didn’t have to take him to the clinic. He didn’t ask you what size condom you wear in the middle of a crowded waiting room.”

“I’ll swap you for the are you sure it’ll fit, questions if you like,” Chris says, and Joey hurries to decline.

“Naw, that’s alright, but I’ll pass, thanks. I’ll just be glad when this is over with and he talks about something other than sex.”

“Like you’re any better,” JC says as he carefully props the picture against the shelter. “Who was it talking about that hot young thing you took out last week? How good their fingers were and how they hit that spot just right.”

“It’s not my fault I’m such a stud,” Joey says, and he winks as he jumps down from the crate. Then his expression turns serious and he looks from Chris to JC. “I’ve some news too. Just don’t tell the kids in case nothing comes of it.”

Joey looks into the distance, foot tapping against the ground. “I was asked if I wanted to apply for a paid position in the place I sell magazines for. They said if I get that, there’s a chance I could get one of the assisted housing scheme apartments.”

“That’s wonderful news!” JC says and flings his arms round Joey. Joey nods his head and hugs JC back, but he doesn’t look happy.

“What if I apply and get the job, and I go back to how I was before?” Joey asks. He looks miserable and JC hugs him again. “I mean, last time I had regular money I drank it all away. It could happen again.”

“It could,” Chris says, and he moves close to JC and Joey, leaning into both of them. “But it wouldn’t. You wouldn’t do that. You’re a different person from who you were then.”

Joey has his mouth open to reply when they hear the fence move.

“We’ll talk about this later”, Chris says, and Joey nods as they look to see who’s coming.

“He’s coming, he’s coming. Is everything ready?” Justin shouts as he races around the corner. He’s panting, and points back to the fence with one hand. “I told him I needed to use the bathroom. Whoa! You’ve done a great job.”

Chris feels proud; they’ve worked hard to decorate and paper chains made from newspapers hang next to the banner. Chris’ hands are stained by the newsprint, but it’s worth it for the look on Justin’s face.

“Justin? Are you okay?” Lance shouts and they all shuffle into a line, and shout Happy Birthday when Lance walks into view. He jumps, hand to his chest then grins as he looks about.

“Whoa, you did this for me? Thank you.”

Justin springs at Lance, holding him tight. “Happy birthday! I’ve got a present for you later, but JC’s got one for you now. Show him, JC.”

Justin is almost jumping on the spot as he turns Lance so he can see the picture. JC picks it up and hands it to Lance. “It’s us, on that night with the fireworks. Remember, it was so cold and Justin was bitching about his hands and we were going to go home. Then the display started and it was so beautiful. You smiled so much that night.”

“I love it,” says Lance, and he keeps looking at it, holding the square of cardboard as if it’s the most precious painting in the world. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” says JC, and he kisses Lance on the cheek. “Just promise me one thing. When you look at it, you remember you used to smile, and used to have fun.”

Lance stays silent, then nods as he wipes his hand quickly across his eyes. Chris takes that as his cue and gestures to Joey, who goes into his shelter. “Hey, Bass. We’ve got another present for you.”

Lance looks at Chris, then past him to Joey, and his mouth drops open when he sees what Joey has in his hands. It’s a small cake, decorated with chocolate frosting and a lit candle that flickers from the middle. Chris starts to sing “Happy Birthday” and they all join in as Lance stands mute. As they finish, Justin leans into Lance.

“Make a wish.” And Lance blows out the candle before shutting his eyes. His lips move slightly and Chris wonders what he’s wishing for; not that he’ll ask. Some things have to be private.

“You ready to go?” Joey says and Lance looks at him with surprise. Joey hugs him, holding him tight, then pulls back. “Not you, hot shot, we’re going to the park. You’re staying here.”

“But the cake, and Chris, you can’t walk that far yet,” Lance says and he looks from Chris to the cake that Joey’s passed to Justin.

“The cake’s for you and Justin; as for me, I’m fine, really,” Chris says and hugs Lance. He reaches for JC’s hand, linking their fingers together, and slowly starts to walk before calling back. “Enjoy your present.”

They’re almost to the fence when Justin runs to Chris; bending, he whispers, are you sure it’ll fit?, and Chris nods, laughing when Justin gives him a thumbs up and runs away.

“I’ll bet a packet of chips he blows before he gets a rubber on,” jokes Joey.

Chris thinks about it then shakes his head. “I don’t do sucker bets.”

They all laugh, then fall silent when they hear a deep groan. Within seconds they’re on the other side of the fence.

~*~*~*~

“Hey, do you like this?” Justin asks, and twirls into a complicated dance move that spins him across the sidewalk, hips moving like liquid. A group of people burst into applause and throw coins into Chris’ hat as Justin beams.

“Not bad,” Chris replies and bites back a grin when Justin turns to him, expression outraged.

“Not bad?!” Justin glares at Chris a little, then hits him on the shoulder when Chris grins. “You’re an ass.”

“But you love me anyway.”

Justin doesn’t reply and looks away. Chris shrugs and is about to start singing again when Justin looks at him. “I do. Love you, I mean. Not like, you know, I love Lance. But I do love you.”

Chris looks at Justin, words failing him. He doesn’t let many people past his walls; it’s easier that way. He still remembers crying himself to sleep for months after his mom left with his step-father and sisters. Chris decided then, you don’t get hurt if you don’t care in the first place. But first JC, then Joey breached those rules, pushing their way into his affections. Now as Justin stands looking at Chris, little more than a baby, forehead creased in worry, Chris knows those walls have been breached again.

“It goes both ways, kid,” Chris says. Justin doesn’t move at first, but Chris hears him let out a deep breath before he springs at Chris, long arms and legs locking round Chris’ body. He clings on, and Chris hugs back, uncaring of the crowd that watches.

“Erm, I’ll get the money, okay?” Justin says at last, cheeks tinged with red, and lets go, dropping to his knees and sorting through the coins in the hat. Chris sighs, then looks across the street to where JC is working. They work in a team now, united against the threat of Elroy. It cuts into the money they make -- people don’t want to throw money in every hat they see -- but at least Chris knows JC’s safe.

JC is lying on his belly, drawing as fast as he can. His hair keeps falling in his face, so he pushes it back with impatient movements and Chris knows he’ll soon tie it back with a piece of yellow ribbon he keeps in his sunflower bag. The bag they washed so carefully, sponging blood stains from the fabric. Chris doesn’t know what JC’s drawing; it’s a blur of reds and gold from where he’s standing, but he’s knows JC will jump to his feet soon and drag him across the road to see the masterpiece. He does it every day, hand warm in Chris’ -- explaining colours and themes as Chris stares. Every night Chris has hands stained with colour, passed from JC’s hands to his own; he doesn’t remember what it’s like to walk home with clean palms; instead they’re pink and blue or some other colour and Chris loves it that way.

“Chris!” Turning, Chris sees Joey running up the sidewalk, two bags slung over his shoulder. Joey looks frantic and he drops the bags to the ground when he reaches Chris, bending over and gasping for breath. Chris feels his stomach drop; he knows Joey doesn’t get flustered like this for no reason.

“Lance…he’s, they’ve…in a police car.” Joey manages to force the words out and Chris feels his whole body go cold as he deciphers their meaning.

“What about Lance?” Justin demands, and he’s staring at Joey, utter fear on his face. “What about him? Come on, Joey!”

“Justin,” Chris says, reaching for Justin’s arm, feeling the tremors that run through it. “Let Joey speak.”

Joey looks at Chris when he talks, ignoring Justin, who looks like he wants to shake the words out of him. “We were coming to meet you all, and he said he wanted some candy and was going to get some from a shop in Bannister Street. I told him not to go, Chris. You have to believe that, but he went anyway.” Joey stops talking and rubs a hand across his eyes. “You know what he’s like, won’t take no for an answer. He gave me his bag and ran off. When I got there, he was coming out of the shop, then this guard grabbed him outside the door and hauled him back in. The fucker was built; there was no way Lance could get away.”

“So you should have went in and got him.” Justin jerks his arm away from Chris and turns to Joey. “You should have gone in and helped him get away.”

“And done what, Justin? When I looked in the store, he was already cuffed to the guard. There was nothing I could do.”

“So you left him!” Justin shouts, and Chris gets ready to grab him if he starts swinging at Joey. “How could you do that? How!?”

“Do you think I wanted to?” Joey yells, then his shoulders slump and he looks at Chris. “There wasn’t anything I could do. He saw me when they took him to the car, and he looked so scared. But I couldn’t do anything. There was nothing I could do, Chris.”

“I know. It’s okay,” Chris says, even though he knows it’s not okay at all. He’s desperately trying to think what to do, how to get to see Lance, but he can’t think of a thing.

“JC… Lance,” Justin says, and Chris looks and sees JC standing close to Justin.

“I know. I heard,” says JC and he hugs Justin. “We’ll get him back.”

Chris wants to ask how. How can they get Lance back when they could be arrested for vagrancy as soon as they set foot in the police station? Going there is a huge risk, but as Chris looks at Justin, he knows it’s a risk he has to take.

“This is what we’re going to do. Joey, Justin, JC, you can all wait at that park near the station. That way they can’t arrest you for loitering. I’ll go in and see if I can find out what’s happening.”

“What? No, you can’t.” JC stops hugging Justin and looks at Chris. “What happens if you go in there and get arrested too? You stay with Justin and Joey and I’ll go.”

“No way, JC,” Chris says and means it. JC locked up is something Chris won’t even think about. “You need to stay here. I’ll go in, ask what’s going on and be out of there in minutes.”

“Do you think they’ll tell you anything?” asks Justin. He looks painfully young, pressed tight against JC, and Chris wants to lie and say things will be fine. But he can’t promise anything and Justin needs to know that.

“I don’t know. I wish I did.” Chris moves to JC and Justin, hugging them both, then pulls back and motions to Joey to join them. Joey shakes his head, but Chris won’t take no for an answer, and stares until Joey shrugs and walks over, joining the huddle.

“I can’t promise that I’ll bring Lance back with me, but I can promise I’ll do the best I can,” says Chris.

Justin nods. “I know you will. I trust you.”

With those words Chris feels the weight on his shoulders double.

~*~*~*~

Justin holds onto Chris’ t-shirt as they walk, hand fisted into the material. People stare, but Chris stares back until they look away. If Justin needs to hold onto him he can, the same way no one is going to take Lance’s magazine bag from Justin. Not that they’d be able to, Justin has it slung over his shoulder and keeps touching the strap with his free hand.

JC walks with Joey, and Chris can hear him whispering that it wasn’t Joey’s fault and Lance will be fine. Words that are hard to believe, but words that soothe anyway.

“Chris.” Justin doesn’t look at Chris, just keeps looking ahead. “They won’t lock him up, will they? He didn’t take much, that’s okay right?”

“It depends. He could get a warning I guess. That’s what I’m hoping for, anyway,” Chris replies.

“I don’t want him to go to jail, Chris,” Justin says. His hand twists in Chris t-shirt again, pulling the material tight, and Chris puts his hand on Justin’s.

“Neither do I.” Chris wants to say more, but the police station is in sight and the words don’t want to squeeze through his dry throat. He tries not to walk past the building if he can. There are too many memories contained inside its walls.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” JC moves next to Chris, bodies close as they all look at the station. “If you get detained…”

“I won’t,” Chris replies, then quickly squeezes JC’s hand. “I’ll be careful; wait for me, okay?”

“As long as it takes.” JC tries to smile, but only the corner of his mouth rises before he walks away. Joey follows him after clapping Chris on the back, leaving Justin, who still stands holding Chris’ t-shirt.

“If you see him, tell him I love him,” Justin says, then hurries away, leaving Chris standing alone.

Chris takes a deep breath, then looks at the other three who’re watching from the other side of the road; he waves once, then walks to the station. He feels edgy and uncomfortable as he approaches, as if everyone is watching him, wondering what this grubby man dressed all in black could want. Chris wants to lower his head and look at the floor; instead he straightens his shoulders and walks along the sidewalk with his head held high.

No one stops him as he walks up the steps to the station, but with each step Chris expects to feel a heavy hand on his shoulder. His skin itches and it’s an effort not to run, but he pushes open the door and steps inside.

The building is hot and noisy; uniformed officers roam the floor and everyone seems to be talking at once. Chris looks to see if he can see Lance, but it’s not that easy -- he doesn’t expect it to be. Seeing the nearest policeman is busy at the desk, Chris quietly walks past; no one watches him and he hopes he’s slipping under the radar as he walks the length of the room.

“Chris.”

Turning quickly, Chris sees Lance sitting next to a desk. His hands are cuffed in front of him and he smiles fleetingly as Chris looks at him.

“Are you okay?” Chris asks, then moves so he’s closer to Lance.

“I’m fine, just, you know.” Lance holds his hands up and shrugs. Chris hates seeing them, and wants nothing more than to get Lance and run. But Chris also knows that’s an incredibly bad idea, so he looks around again, checking if anyone is looking his way before moving so he’s standing next to Lance.

“Have they said what they’re going to do?”

“I’ve got to pay for what I stole, about two dollars plus a hundred dollar fine.” Lance looks at Chris, disgust clear on his face. “Busted for some candy bars. I’m so stupid.”

“Not going to disagree with you there,” Chris says, but he smiles as he says it. “So we need one hundred and two dollars; we can do that. Or I could ask Sally, I’m sure she’d help…”

“Chris.” Lance cuts Chris off. He’s looking at Chris blankly, no expression on his face. “It’s over; I can’t go anywhere.”

“What? It’s a fine, Lance, I’ll get the money and you’ll be out of here. I promise you.”

“No. It’s not that; I know you could do it. It’s just…” Lance squeezes his eyes shut and Chris touches his hand, fingers resting on cold metal and warm skin. “They phoned my parents, Chris. They ran my name and a missing person report came up. He’s phoning my momma now … and Justin’s.”

Chris feels sick and his fingers dig into Lance’s hand. Lance is going home, Chris knows that for a fact. He could convince him to run, but that’s not the right thing to do. Lance needs a warm bed and good food. He doesn’t need a cold shelter and a criminal record. The facts run through Chris’ head at lightening speed. Homeless against home. Food against hunger. Chris would tell Lance to wait for his mom in a heartbeat except for one thing -- Justin.

It’s the biggest reason Lance should try and stay, so they can be together, laughing and talking. Or play on the swings and eat hot soup, Justin’s laughter filling their lives. Chris can’t imagine life without Lance, no more groans in the night and good natured teasing in the mornings when Lance and Justin emerge from their shelter, stiff-legged, Justin’s curls standing on end and hickies scattered on their bodies.

But Justin’s also the biggest reason Lance should go. Chris has heard too many stories about Justin’s mom, spent too many nights listening as Lance comforts Justin as he cries for what he left behind. Chris sees the kid disappear from Justin a little more each day, and he knows he has to stop it. Justin needs a childhood, and Lance needs to go before he changes more than he already has. Before he becomes more jaded and slips further into a life of petty crime; and he will; Chris knows the signs.

Chris prefers the man Lance used to be; with his ready smile and sly comments, not the person Lance is now. Who thinks stealing is right and doesn’t even hesitate to take what he wants. Chris has tried to stop the change, protecting them both to the best of his ability, but day by day he’s watched as Justin becomes old before his time and Lance retreats behind a hard shell.

Months ago, Chris thought he could protect them better than any shelter, and he still thinks that; but it’s not enough. They need to go home, and Chris will make sure that happens, even if it breaks his heart to do so.

“It’s best this way, right?” Lance questions, and Chris sees the real Lance at last; young and scared as he looks at Chris for reassurance.

“It is,” Chris replies, and he believes it.

Lance looks at Chris with eyes that shimmer with unshed tears. “I’m going home, Chris.”

”I know, so’s Justin.”

Lance slowly nods his head, and Chris looks around again, then hugs Lance briefly. “Look us up one day.” Then he walks away before his luck runs out. He doesn’t look back, just keeps going until he’s outside, then stands frozen on the sidewalk.

“Chris. Chris. Did you see him?” Justin asks and Chris blinks, wondering when he got there. “Did you see him?”

“Yeah.”

“And, when’s he coming out?”

“He’s not.” Chris can’t look at Justin, has to turn away and face JC who’s standing close. “They ran his name and a missing persons report came up for you and him. They’re calling your mom’s now.”

“My mom’s coming here?” Justin asks, and Chris turns back to him. “She knows where I am? She’ll take me back, Chris.”

“I know. It’s time you went back, kid.”

“No. I want to stay here, with you all and Lance.” Justin starts to yell, and Chris hopes no one comes to see what the fuss is. “You can’t make me go back.”

“I know. But do you really want to be here without him?” Chris hates the way Justin looks at him, and it’s only JC’s hand on his back that stops him charging back for Lance.

“No. No, I don’t,” Justin whispers. He looks from Chris to the station and back again. “I love him.”

“And he loves you, very much,” JC says; he reaches for Justin with one hand, pulling him close until he can whisper It’s time to go . Chris feels his heart break as Justin looks at them all, expression stunned.

“My mom’s coming?” Justin asks, voice so quiet Chris can hardly hear.

“They were phoning her; do you think she’ll stay away?”

“I miss my mom,” Justin says, and he rubs at his eyes. “I miss her so much.”

“We know.” Joey puts a hand on Justin’s shoulder. “I’m going to miss you like crazy, but I agree. You need to go home.”

“Will you come in with me?” Justin looks at Chris, but Joey answers.

“I’ll take you. I can watch until you’re with Lance at least.”

“Okay,” Justin says, then he grabs at Chris and JC, pulling them into a tight hug. Chris can feel Justin’s hand on his back and curls against his cheek. He can also feel tears on his face, even if he doesn’t know whose they are. “Thank you, for everything.” Justin pulls back at last. He doesn’t say anymore; just walks to the steps, Joey walking behind him.

Chris hears him say I’m going home , and watches until the door swings shut behind them. It’s only JC’s murmured oh honey that stops him bawling on the sidewalk like a baby.

~*~*~*~

“I don’t want you to go,” Joey says. He doesn’t look at Chris, just keeps folding and refolding the same two t-shirts before putting them on a shelf.

“I know,” Chris replies tiredly. They’ve repeated this conversation over and over and it never gets any easier. Joey is standing, head down, so Chris goes to him and holds him around his waist, head pressed against Joey’s chest. “Me and JC need to do this; we want to swim in the ocean and watch sunsets, see all the things we’ve only heard about. There’s so much to see out there, Joey.”

“I’m scared,” Joey whispers the words, and Chris tightens his grip. “What if I fail again?”

“You won’t. You’re strong, Joey. Look around you. Look at what you’ve achieved; you’ve been dry for a long time, have a job and an apartment. You did that.” Chris falls silent. He’s so proud of Joey, more proud than words can ever convey.

“You can stay here, you and JC can have the bedroom and I’ll take the couch. I’ll get you a job; we’ll be good.” Joey sounds desperate and Chris hates saying no, but he has to.

“I know you would, but no. JC wants to find himself, and where he goes, I go.”

“Why can’t he find himself here?” Joey protests, but Chris knows he understands. Joey’s been there when JC talks of finding the beauty in the world, seen the way JC’s face lights up when he talks about capturing the good things on paper. “You’re coming back?”

“I promise,” Chris says, then gasps when Joey hugs him hard, squeezing all air out of his lungs.

“I’m going to miss you both so much.” Joey pulls back from Chris and looks down at him. “First Lance and Justin, now you and JC. You’re all leaving me behind.”

“For now, but me and JC will be back. You’ll see Lance and Justin again too,” Chris says, then smiles at Joey before going to the window, pushing aside the yellow fabric JC has hung. The sun shines brightly in the sky and the heat makes the ground shimmer in waves. Chris can feel the sweat pooling on his back already, and he knows it’ll get worse when they start hitchhiking, where the fumes of the traffic would heat things up even more. But Chris is eager to go; he wants to see some of the world with JC at his side, to be shown that life isn’t grey, but a kaleidoscope of colours.

“You think they’ll come back?” Chris takes a few seconds to realise that Joey means Lance and Justin, but when he does, he nods his head and lets the make-shift drapes fall back into place.

“They’ll be back. You’ve got their stuff, haven’t you?” Chris indicates Lance’s case which stands in the corner of Joey’s apartment with Justin’s bag lying on top. The painting JC did for Lance’s birthday is leaning against it, a burst of colour against the drab walls. Chris stares at it, remembering Lance’s face as JC presented it, and his face the next day when he was given a round of applause after crawling out of his and Justin’s box. “We did the right thing, right?”

Joey’s quiet for a long time after the question, and Chris imagines he’s remembering the days after the kids went home too. Dark, painful days that Chris tries to forget. “You saw their faces, what do you think?”

Chris sits on the couch, careful to sit on the seat with no springs poking through, and remembers waiting in the park, Joey and JC wrapped around him like human blankets. Justin and Lance had walked out of the station many hours later, hand in hand, their moms at their sides. They’d looked tired but happy, and it’s their faces Chris pictures now, the smiles and hugs as they climbed into a car before driving out of sight. “We did the right thing.”

“We did.” Joey sits next to Chris, laughing when the couch wobbles alarmingly. “You sure you don’t want to leave a letter, you know, in case they do come back?”

“They’ll be back, and no, it’s okay. JC’s took care of that.”

“Okay.” Joey looks puzzled, but doesn’t ask more. “Talking of JC, where is he? I thought he was coming here before you go.”

“He is. He’s outside; he needed to finish something.” Chris grins, then jumps to his feet. “In fact, he should be done. Come on.”

Grabbing Joey’s hand, Chris pulls him up, then goes outside. JC’s sitting cross-legged on the sidewalk; in front of him is a large painting, and Chris hears Joey gasp as he looks at it.

“It’s for you, for your apartment. Me and Chris did it,” JC says, and Chris laughs.

“Yeah, right, I coloured some parts in, that’s all.”

“It was still done by me and you,” JC says, then he turns to Joey who’s staring at the painting with his mouth open. “I thought you could look at this and remember how far you’ve come. It’s done with love, Joey, every stroke.”

Joey says nothing and Chris understands why. The painting is magnificent, starting colourless on one side then merging into brilliant colour. Chris, JC, Joey, Lance and Justin stand in the foreground, grinning at some private joke. JC has his arm round Chris and Lance is holding Justin’s hand, but they all touch Joey in some way, who stands in the middle, arms draped over their shoulders.

“I love it,” Joey says, then hugs JC and Chris, pulling them both close so they stand in a tight group. “You’re the best friends I’ve ever had.”

“Ditto,” says Chris, and JC agrees by kissing Joey’s cheek, then they separate, and Chris knows it’s time to go. He tries to find the words, but Joey understands.

“I’ll be waiting for you all.” Joey kisses Chris on his forehead and does the same to JC, then picks up his picture and walks to his door. “You’d better go, gather some memories for me, okay.” Then he turns and walks inside, bright blue chalk handprints of different sizes clear on the back of his t-shirt.

Chris reaches for JC’s hand and holds it tight, fingers entwined. They’ll be back one day, but there’s a long journey ahead, and he knows JC is going to be at his side every step of the way.


Epilogue

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come?”

Justin shakes his head at his mom in irritation, stopping when Lance pokes him in the side. “We’ll be fine. You can meet them after; we just want to see them alone first.”

Lynn still seems unsure, but slowly nods her head after looking at Diane who’s standing next to her. “Okay, you can go. But I don’t know what you’re so worried about, I’m not going to attack them or anything.”

“That’s not what you said before,” Justin says as looks at his mom. “You were going to gut them all and hang their entrails on a tree if I remember correctly.”

“I was mad, honey. You’d been gone for so long, and all we’d had was a postcard and a few messages passed to us. What did you expect me to do? Thank them for keeping you?”

Justin feels bad as he watches his mom, how sad she looks as she remembers the time he and Lance were gone. “I’m sorry. It’s just. They saved us, Mom. Lance and I would have been dead within a week if it wasn’t for them.”

Lance nods in agreement and Justin sees both moms shudder at the thought of their children being dead.

“Okay, you can go, we’ll wait here for you,” Diane says and Justin jumps on the balls of his feet, wanting to yell and cheer. But he doesn’t; he has to prove to his mom he’s mature. But still, he’s going to see Chris, JC and Joey.

“Come on, Lance,” Justin yells. He can’t wait any longer and pushes Lance to get him moving. Lance grumbles, but Justin knows how eager he really is. It’s all they talk about at night, when Lance sits with Justin watching TV and talking about everything they did and the three people who became as close as family.

“I’m coming,” Lance says, and he runs after Justin. The shelters are just around the corner and Justin imagines how Joey will be sorting his magazines, and Chris lying next to JC until they stumble out with mussed hair and sleepy eyes.

They reach the loose fence section, and Lance pushes it aside while they crawl in. Justin can feel the excitement build up in him. He imagines Chris’ face when they tell him that Lance’s parents are setting Lance up with his own small apartment in the city, somewhere he never has to worry about small town bullies, and the way JC’s eyes will light up when he’s told Justin and Lance have seen each other every day since they left and their love grows each one. Then the grin Joey will have when Justin says he’s moving to the city too, with his mom, and he’s going to school so he can make something of himself.

Justin’s about to yell when Lance puts a hand over his mouth. “Let’s surprise them.”

It’s a great idea and Justin nods, he’s grinning so much his face hurts as he walks around the corner, bracing himself for yells and hugs. But the grin slips from his face as he looks around.

There’s obviously no one there. The shelters still stand, but they’re dark and empty inside. The CDs still chime together, shining in the morning sun, but nothing can disguise how empty it is. Justin’s legs shake and he reaches for Lance, holding his arm in a desperate grip.

“They’ve gone, Lance,” Justin can’t look away from the empty shelters, then another thought fills his mind. “Elroy! What if he, they could be…”

“No. Look,” Lance interrupts and points to the wall opposite the shelters. It used to be filled with JC’s drawings, but now there’s only one. It looks fresh and Justin runs a gentle finger across it, half smiling as his skin gets covered in blue chalk.

Lance touches it too, then looks at his blue palm before linking hands with Justin. They look at the picture, a golden phoenix rising from the ashes, while in the background five figures watch, highlighted against a blazing sun. Justin reads the words that are written underneath, tears streaming unheeded down his face.

Justin, Lance. I know you’ll see this, because I know you’ll come back one day. The ties that bind us are too strong to break.

You’re probably be sad now, don’t be. We’ve all moved on, like the phoenix we’ve risen from the ashes; all in our own special way. Joey has his own place now; he has a job and everything. Lance, ask Heather at the magazine place where he lives; she’ll tell you. He wants to see you both so much; we all do.

Chris and I are on our own journey now. He needs to see that beauty is real, not just something that lives in my head. Chris is my inspiration, the reason I keep on going, and I want to prove to him how beautiful he is. We’re going to find ourselves but we’ll be back, never forget that. We love you all too much to stay away.

I won’t say goodbye because it’s not. Hug each other for me then go and hug Joey.

See you soon, JC.

Justin wipes his eyes with his fists, then rests his head against Lance’s shoulder. “They’ll come back, right?”

Lance kisses Justin’s head. “JC said they would, didn’t he?”

Justin doesn’t reply; he doesn’t have to. They know they’ll come back, it’s just a matter of when. But they can wait. They’re not kids anymore. Until then, there’s still Joey to see.

“Come on.” Justin touches the picture once more then walks away. They’ve got a lot to tell Joey.