![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
turpsTitle: Dogs
Author: Terri
Fandom(s): Nsync
Rating PG
Author's Note: The second of 27 selfcontained but connected stories. Thanks go to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ephemera_pop for beta reading for me.
Summary: Nsync turn into dogs. That's it in a nutshell.
Justin opens his eyes to the endless cross-cross of wire mesh. He looks up, blinking and trying to understand what kind of fence keeps going up and up. Then he looks down, and sees shaggy paws. Brown, fuzzy paws, the toes separated by tufts of white fur. Realisation dawns and he feels dizzy, because, after the girl thing, he knew this could happen, but knowing that it might happen does nothing to pad the shock of suddenly being covered in fur. He moves his hand, and one of the paws steps to the side, black nail snicking against the concrete floor.
“It said animal transformation, but this….” Justin can hear himself talk, except his voice has changed, raspy gruffness through the tone.
“Justin? Is that you?”
Justin turns, and discovers that coordinating four feet is hard, four lanky legs moving in different ways. He sighs, which comes out as a harsh bark, and concentrates. One two three four, and he’s looking at another dog. A big, skinny dog, with flappy ears covered in curly fur. Justin sniffs, drawing in air that sings, sharing information, that there’s a bitch nearby, that there's water close, and that this dog is JC.
JC smells like friendship and warmth, delicious smells that draw Justin near, sniffing across silky fur, over the lean body, along to a wildly wagging tail.
“Getting friendly there aren’t you?” Justin’s never seen a dog laugh - he didn’t think they could - now he knows different. Joey’s smaller than Justin and JC, with a stocky brown body and a blunt tail that's whipping through the air. His mouth is open, long tongue rolling free, and despite the lack of lips, the muzzle, he’s smiling.
“Jealous much?” JC butts Justin with his head, uses his silky tail to whap Joey across his nose.
“Of butt sniffing? I don’t think so.” One of Joey’s ears pricks up, and he circles in place as a new dog walks out of a small doorway in the back wall. Justin’s seen dogs like this before. White with long fur that trails to the floor, hair pulled back from their eyes in cutsey bows. This one is an off white, and the hair’s pulled back with a plain elastic band, but still, the breeding is still obviously there. “Figures you’d be a pedigree.” Joey is laughing again, doggy snuffles, licking Lance’s nose when he comes close.
“So I’m some kind of mutt and Lance is a Shih Tzu. Figures.” Justin sits, flopping to the side as he tries to control his too long legs. A fuzzy ear falls into his eyes and he shakes his head as he looks at Lance. “Cool hair.”
“I’ll take your word for it.” Lance is looking around, taking in the wire wall and the blankets, the chewed toys and the bowls in the corner of the pen. Carefully he circles the available space, daintily picking up his feet. “Pedigree or not, I’m still in a kennel.”
“No, man. You probably ran away. Like in Lady and the Tramp. Do you smell of bitch.” JC sticks his nose against Lance’s side, head down as he sniffs.
“I hope not.” Lance says quickly, and Justin can’t help laughing, wheezing to himself, mouth open and drooling.
“Has anyone seen Chris?” Joey’s question breaks through Justin’s laughter, and he feels guilty that he didn’t think to ask.
“He’s back there.” Lance points with one small paw, and there’s something in his expression that Justin doesn’t like. He’s no dog whisperer but he knows Lance, and can smell the taint of sorrow that the pedigree pup is trying to hide.
“It’s okay. I’m coming.” Chris’ voice rasps. He’s breathing hard and Justin takes a step towards him, flank to flank with JC as Chris walks into sight. He's small with pointed black ears, grey scattered through dark fur and he takes slow, careful steps, each one painful to watch. His head is down, grey beard almost to the floor. Looking up, there’s an echo of laughter in his eyes, past glories shadowed by the gleam of pain. They’re all silent, waiting as Chris collapses onto a red blanket, sighing when he’s finally down.
“Chris….” JC’s moving, long legs eating up the small space. He towers over Chris, long brown fur resting on the black scruff of Chris’ back.
“This sucks. I’m a dog and I can’t even lick my own balls.” Chris rests his head on his front paws, rolls his eyes with disgust.
“I can do it. You know, if you want.” JC has folded himself down, long body curled around Chris’.
“Maybe later, I need a nap now.” Chris’ eyes are shutting, and the smell of old age surrounds him. It’s bitter, coating Justin’s mouth as he snuffles at Chris's back, and he wants to whimper, howl these new fears to the universe.
“Okay, cat -- dog.” JC’s head is against Chris’, on guard as Chris sleeps with gasping snores.
“How are we supposed to solve a leap in a kennel?” Joey’s pressed against the wire wall. He keeps looking towards the dark door to the kennel building, and out through the wire to the other cages that surround theirs. The smell of uncertainty rolls off him, and Justin whines softly.
“I have no idea. I guess all we can do is wait,” Lance says, and he's trying to sound calm, but the faint scratch of nails against the floor gives him away. Lance always clenches his hands when he's anxious.
“We haven’t got time to wait.” JC licks across Chris’ head, pink tongue against black fur. Chris shifts under the touch, paws moving rhythmically, and Justin can almost count old dance routines in the beat.
“What else can we do?” Lance’s voice is sharp, a howl in the air, and other dogs cry their replies, yips and barks coming from all sides. Justin wants to join in, tips back his head and opens his mouth. He stops when Lance drops to the floor, head on his outstretched paws.
“Shush, listen.” Joey has his head tilted to one side, ear pricked. “Someone’s coming.”
Justin scrambles to stand. Nose pressed against the wire as he tries to look along the corridor. The dogs opposite are jumping up too. Justin can sense their excitement, their need to be seen. He jumps too, caught in the moment as he springs upward, panting as an unseen door opens with a swish.
“This is fun.” Joey’s jumping now, and slather glistens in the air as he bumps against Lance, who’s quivering in place. JC scrambles up then, ears bouncing, and Chris is awake and watching, alert as he looks at his friends. Then there’s no thought, nothing but instinct as Justin's claws catch at the fence.
The noise around them increases when voices are heard, excitement peaking. Then Justin is suddenly weighted to the floor, can only look out of the cage and whine. It’s Trace. A seven year old Trace. Justin remembers that t-shirt, the holey jeans and messy hair. One glipse of Trace's gap-toothed smile and Justin is a child again, long summer days in the sunshine playing ball.
“Trace,” Justin says, a soft bark and he wants Trace’s hand buried in his scruff. Chubby arms wrapped around his body. Transported back to an uncomplicated time.
“Mom. Look at this one! Trace has his fingers wrapped around the wire, and Justin sidles closer, licks along dirty fingers, provoking a delighted smile. “I like this one. Can we have him? Please?”
Justin whines, pushes his muzzle into a small hand.
“He is handsome.” Trace’s mom is looking into the run. She looks good, relaxed, as she reads something attached to the outside of the cage. “That’s Randy. Three years old. Pleasant nature, gets along with other dogs. A great choice for a family. It says his old owner died. Poor thing. You really want him? You haven’t seen the rest of the dogs yet.”
“No. I want Randy.” Trace has always known what he wants, and he faces his mom, one hand resting on the cage. “He likes me. See.” Justin takes the prompt, licking and unleashing puppydog eyes. Effective when he’s human, they seem to have double impact in dog form, and Trace’s mom scratches Justin through the wire.
“Okay, honey. It’s your choice. We need to go fill in the paperwork and get things sorted. Come on, lets go tell the kennel man that you've found your dog.”
Trace leaves reluctantly with a last fingertip stroke along Justin’s fur.
The barking dies down when Trace and his mom leave. There’s a residue of sadness, disappointment from those not picked. Justin hangs his head. He hadn’t missed Trace until he’d seen him, but now the sensation is keen.
“Was that Trace? It looked like a mini version of him.” Lance asks
“Yeah.” Justin sighs. “I can remember him getting a dog, but it was years ago.”
“I guess time isn’t an issue for this thing then.” Joey turns in place and then curls up in a tight circle. Shifting as Lance settles close to his side, white fur pressed against brown.
Being at the mercy of time is a scary thought, and Justin has the urge to dig. Smother this fear by scratching at the floor. He flexes his paws but lies still after one tentative scrape of claw against concrete.
“I just wish I knew why we were here.” JC’s eyes are wide as he lies next to Chris. They’re sharing warmth but there’s something more, comfort through touch, and Justin knows Chris’ time is running short. He doesn’t know how, it’s just a bone deep knowledge that’s always there.
“I thought. You know, when I saw Trace. That was it.” Justin settles down next to Chris and JC, says softly. “I don’t know what to do.”
“There’s only one thing we can do,” Joey says, and his ears are flat to his head. Lance whines softly, and licks along Joey’s muzzle, over the flattened ears.
“I know. We wait.” It’s not the answer Justin wants. It’s the only one they have.
~*~*~*~
Justin only wakes up when the door shuts with a clang. He should have woken before, blames this stupid situation that hasn’t allowed them to eat, to sleep. He’s exhausted, but still, he should have woken before. Now it’s too late and Chris is on the other side of the fence, cradled in someone’s arms.
Jumping up, front legs against the fence, Justin barks in surprise. It’s Nick. Again. He looks young, hair pulled back in a ponytail and dressed in shorts and t-shirt. Chris is cradled against his chest, and Nick’s petting him, crooning under his breath, hand almost covering Chris’ side.
JC’s next to Justin now, Lance standing under him. Joey at Justin’s other side. The air feels thick, confusion and apprehension. Then Nick starts to move away.
“Chris!” JC leaps, jumping at the mesh. It moves under his weight, bows when Justin Lance and Joey pound against it too. Yelling and barking, frantic as Chris yelps, squirms in Nick’s arms.
“Hey now, Champ. You’re feisty for an old guy.” Nick strokes along Chris’ head and Justin tries to kid himself. That this is okay, Chris is going to see the vet, is going to be made better.
“It’s Nick. I can get away from him. He’s a pussy.” Chris is still struggling, small legs thrashing in the air. He’s held tight, though, and he’s getting nowhere. Chris keeps fighting, yelping, and a chorus of dogs back his every word.
Justin’s paws flex against the mesh, wire digging into his pads. “Chris. What? What’s going on?” He feels sick, knows the answer, has to ask anyway as Chris looks back at him.
“In dog years I’m ancient. No one wants me and they can only keep us so long.” Chris stops talking then. He’s afraid, shivering under Nick’s comforting hand. Then there’s a shift, a moment when he hides the fear, reassuring as he looks their way. “It’s okay. Nick was talking to me before you woke up. I’ll just go to sleep. Nothing to it. But damn, of all the ways Backstreet could do me in.”
“No!” JC throws himself at the mesh, body slamming into it again and again. “No!”
“Hey, no. ‘C. It’s okay. Really. You’re gonna hurt yourself.” Chris’ eyes are liquid, and Justin discovers that dogs can cry too as he feels salty tears soak into his fur. “I don’t want to see any of you soon. Love you.”
Nick turns a corner, and Chris is gone. Justin falls to the floor, body like ice while JC keeps throwing himself at the fence, specks of blood from his paws scenting the air, and Lance and Joey howl.
~*~*~*~
Justin sits on the red blanket as the shadows move across the run.
The air is still, smothering as he waits. Then something twists deep inside, a part of him wrenched away and forever gone.
He whimpers, JC, Lance and Joey are heavy against his body, a song of grief trapped in their throats.
~*~*~*~
Justin smells Nick before he sees him. The scent of their Nick, top notes of make-up and alcohol has been replaced by dog, but still, on a deeper level, this Nick is sunshine and ocean too. “Come on, guys. Walkies.” Nick’s outside the run, four leashes held in his hand. Justin hates him. He doesn’t know how Nick’s here, working in an animal shelter in the past, but he doesn’t care. He hates him anyway. Nick opens the door, but Justin doesn’t move, just keeps his head on his paws. “Come on, it’s a beautiful day, perfect for a walk.”
With a quick snap, the lead is attached to Justin’s collar. Feeling a tug around his neck, he has to stand, waiting for the others. Eventually they leave in a jumble of dogs, Lance’s tail brushing under JC’s belly, Joey’s pointed ear against Justin’s side. Walking the corridor is an onslaught of noise and smells, dogs of all sizes jumping in their runs, wanting to get outside.
Justin’s claws click against the floor, and he sniffs again as they finally step into the sun. Head up, mouth open, tasting freedom and fresh air after being trapped inside. They’re led to a small enclosed field. It smells overwhelmingly of dog, and Justin darts for the fence, cocking his leg. This is his space now, and even knowing how irrational that is, he can’t help feeling pleased. Satisfied that he’s made his mark.
“Go on, lads. Have fun.” Nick unclips the leads, and Justin is running, long legs powering through the grass. It feels good, the wind whipping through his ears, the earth under his paws, sorrow pushed briefly aside. He can taste nature. It sings to him, pulling at urges he can’t understand.
He keeps running, circling repeatedly, barking at the air. Crying out his pain at losing Chris, at his family left so far behind. Justin adjusts effortlessly when Joey joins his song, harsh yips as he follows, always a half circuit behind. Lets Lance’s howl ground them, tiny legs a blur as he joins in, JC’s ears streaming back, mouth wide with song.
They’re Justin’s pack, his people, his brothers, and they mourn for the one they have lost.
Eventually they slow, sides heaving, panting for breath. Collapsing in a heap, Justin rests his head against JC’s side, comforted by the beat of his heart as hair tickles against his nose. Nick is leaning against the fence, talking to someone on his cell. Justin watches him for a moment, listens to disjointed words float on the wind. It’s difficult to make them out, easier to listen to the birds that cry out overhead, the faint noise from the kennel block, the sound of leaves rustling in trees. Then Justin hears something new, pricks his ears to hear more.
“Trace.” He stands, carefully steps over Lance and moves to the fence on the farthest side of the enclosure, sticking his head between the slats. Trace and his mom are hand in hand, standing across a driveway, next to a building with notice boards attached to the wall. Justin tries to read the posters but his vision is skewed, colours dimmed to grey. He watches as a woman he doesn't recognise steps into view, ushering Trace and his mom inside.
The door shuts, but Justin doesn’t move. He feels edgy, the air electrifying around him.
“Justin?” Lance tucks his head under Justin’s chin, bumping softly.
“There’s something wrong. You can feel it, right?” Justin looks at the others, and knows they’re feeling it too. He’s reminded of waiting to go on stage, adrenalin pumping but having to remain still.
Justin whines, his whole body quivering.
“Look.” JC’s muzzle is almost through the slats in the fence. He’s looking toward the building with the posters and ice shivers down Justin’s spine when he sees Trace ease out of the door.
“Randy!” Trace claps his hands, and carefully picks his way down the steps. Justin starts to bark, trying to attract Nick’s attention, but he’s still talking on the other side of the enclosure. They all bark, an explosion of sound, but it’s no good. Trace is at the bottom of the steps, smile wide and faded dusty jeans.
“Trace. No!” Justin is yelling, but of course Trace doesn’t understand and just sees his dog, barking. He can’t hear what Justin can : the purr of an engine, wheels against the road surface, a car coming close “No!” The fence is high, but Justin won’t see another friend die. He takes steps back, runs forward and leaps, paws scrabbling at the fence, claws digging into the wood.
“Randy!” Trace yells in excitement, running forward, focussed only on his dog. He doesn't see the car that’s appeared around the corner. Justin’s feet find the top of the fence and he’s flying through the air, hitting Trace in the chest and knocking him to the floor.
Trace lands on the dusty verge, startled into tears, but unhurt. Justin isn’t as lucky. Metal slams into his side and back legs. He's thrown across the driveway, landing against the fence. He tries to take a breath, but there’s something broken inside, a stabbing pain and the taste of blood against his tongue. Justin shuts his eyes against the falling darkness, but he can still hear the cries of his friends mixed with Trace’s sobs.
~*~*~*~
“Justin! Justin, wake up!”
Justin forces open his eyes, wincing against the harsh light. He’s hurting, remembered aches concentrated in his legs and side, but rolls onto his back. JC is looking down at him, one hand on Justin’s shoulder, skin pale and eyes red-rimmed.
“I thought you were dead.” His hand bunches against Justin’s shoulder, voice rough with sorrow. “Don’t do that again.”
“He’d better not. I just about died again when he appeared. One death is enough for me.”
“Chris?!” Justin sits up, staring at Chris who’s sitting, leaning against the wall, looking unimpressed with the whole situation.
“The one and only. Not only did I die, which may I say, sucked. I ended up in some kind of animal after life. Not that it was bad or anything, just I’d planned for hot girls and guys in skimpy clothes, golf and beer. Not Bambie, Lassie and an unlimited supply of chew toys. Oh, by the way Joey. Ermil the hamster says thanks a lot for sitting on him.” Chris waves away Joey’s protests, focussed only on Justin. “Then, you appear. About scared ten years off my life.”
“Well technically if you’re already dead…” Justin doesn’t finish his thought, is gathered into a sudden crushing hug, Chris’ arms wrapped around him. “You died,” Justin says, the words whispered into Chris’ ear.
“I came back,” Chris says simply, making room in the hug for Lance, Joey and JC.
~*~*~*~
“I want to go home.” Justin’s standing next to door number three. He’s tired, hungry and his mouth tastes of dog biscuits.
“You’re not the only one.” JC rests his hand against Justin’s arm, squeezing slightly. “Twenty-five more and we’ll get home.” He looks at the door. “I mean, object transformation. How hard can it be? It's got to be better than us getting transformed again, anyway. ”
Author: Terri
Fandom(s): Nsync
Rating PG
Author's Note: The second of 27 selfcontained but connected stories. Thanks go to
ephemera_pop for beta reading for me.Summary: Nsync turn into dogs. That's it in a nutshell.
Justin opens his eyes to the endless cross-cross of wire mesh. He looks up, blinking and trying to understand what kind of fence keeps going up and up. Then he looks down, and sees shaggy paws. Brown, fuzzy paws, the toes separated by tufts of white fur. Realisation dawns and he feels dizzy, because, after the girl thing, he knew this could happen, but knowing that it might happen does nothing to pad the shock of suddenly being covered in fur. He moves his hand, and one of the paws steps to the side, black nail snicking against the concrete floor.
“It said animal transformation, but this….” Justin can hear himself talk, except his voice has changed, raspy gruffness through the tone.
“Justin? Is that you?”
Justin turns, and discovers that coordinating four feet is hard, four lanky legs moving in different ways. He sighs, which comes out as a harsh bark, and concentrates. One two three four, and he’s looking at another dog. A big, skinny dog, with flappy ears covered in curly fur. Justin sniffs, drawing in air that sings, sharing information, that there’s a bitch nearby, that there's water close, and that this dog is JC.
JC smells like friendship and warmth, delicious smells that draw Justin near, sniffing across silky fur, over the lean body, along to a wildly wagging tail.
“Getting friendly there aren’t you?” Justin’s never seen a dog laugh - he didn’t think they could - now he knows different. Joey’s smaller than Justin and JC, with a stocky brown body and a blunt tail that's whipping through the air. His mouth is open, long tongue rolling free, and despite the lack of lips, the muzzle, he’s smiling.
“Jealous much?” JC butts Justin with his head, uses his silky tail to whap Joey across his nose.
“Of butt sniffing? I don’t think so.” One of Joey’s ears pricks up, and he circles in place as a new dog walks out of a small doorway in the back wall. Justin’s seen dogs like this before. White with long fur that trails to the floor, hair pulled back from their eyes in cutsey bows. This one is an off white, and the hair’s pulled back with a plain elastic band, but still, the breeding is still obviously there. “Figures you’d be a pedigree.” Joey is laughing again, doggy snuffles, licking Lance’s nose when he comes close.
“So I’m some kind of mutt and Lance is a Shih Tzu. Figures.” Justin sits, flopping to the side as he tries to control his too long legs. A fuzzy ear falls into his eyes and he shakes his head as he looks at Lance. “Cool hair.”
“I’ll take your word for it.” Lance is looking around, taking in the wire wall and the blankets, the chewed toys and the bowls in the corner of the pen. Carefully he circles the available space, daintily picking up his feet. “Pedigree or not, I’m still in a kennel.”
“No, man. You probably ran away. Like in Lady and the Tramp. Do you smell of bitch.” JC sticks his nose against Lance’s side, head down as he sniffs.
“I hope not.” Lance says quickly, and Justin can’t help laughing, wheezing to himself, mouth open and drooling.
“Has anyone seen Chris?” Joey’s question breaks through Justin’s laughter, and he feels guilty that he didn’t think to ask.
“He’s back there.” Lance points with one small paw, and there’s something in his expression that Justin doesn’t like. He’s no dog whisperer but he knows Lance, and can smell the taint of sorrow that the pedigree pup is trying to hide.
“It’s okay. I’m coming.” Chris’ voice rasps. He’s breathing hard and Justin takes a step towards him, flank to flank with JC as Chris walks into sight. He's small with pointed black ears, grey scattered through dark fur and he takes slow, careful steps, each one painful to watch. His head is down, grey beard almost to the floor. Looking up, there’s an echo of laughter in his eyes, past glories shadowed by the gleam of pain. They’re all silent, waiting as Chris collapses onto a red blanket, sighing when he’s finally down.
“Chris….” JC’s moving, long legs eating up the small space. He towers over Chris, long brown fur resting on the black scruff of Chris’ back.
“This sucks. I’m a dog and I can’t even lick my own balls.” Chris rests his head on his front paws, rolls his eyes with disgust.
“I can do it. You know, if you want.” JC has folded himself down, long body curled around Chris’.
“Maybe later, I need a nap now.” Chris’ eyes are shutting, and the smell of old age surrounds him. It’s bitter, coating Justin’s mouth as he snuffles at Chris's back, and he wants to whimper, howl these new fears to the universe.
“Okay, cat -- dog.” JC’s head is against Chris’, on guard as Chris sleeps with gasping snores.
“How are we supposed to solve a leap in a kennel?” Joey’s pressed against the wire wall. He keeps looking towards the dark door to the kennel building, and out through the wire to the other cages that surround theirs. The smell of uncertainty rolls off him, and Justin whines softly.
“I have no idea. I guess all we can do is wait,” Lance says, and he's trying to sound calm, but the faint scratch of nails against the floor gives him away. Lance always clenches his hands when he's anxious.
“We haven’t got time to wait.” JC licks across Chris’ head, pink tongue against black fur. Chris shifts under the touch, paws moving rhythmically, and Justin can almost count old dance routines in the beat.
“What else can we do?” Lance’s voice is sharp, a howl in the air, and other dogs cry their replies, yips and barks coming from all sides. Justin wants to join in, tips back his head and opens his mouth. He stops when Lance drops to the floor, head on his outstretched paws.
“Shush, listen.” Joey has his head tilted to one side, ear pricked. “Someone’s coming.”
Justin scrambles to stand. Nose pressed against the wire as he tries to look along the corridor. The dogs opposite are jumping up too. Justin can sense their excitement, their need to be seen. He jumps too, caught in the moment as he springs upward, panting as an unseen door opens with a swish.
“This is fun.” Joey’s jumping now, and slather glistens in the air as he bumps against Lance, who’s quivering in place. JC scrambles up then, ears bouncing, and Chris is awake and watching, alert as he looks at his friends. Then there’s no thought, nothing but instinct as Justin's claws catch at the fence.
The noise around them increases when voices are heard, excitement peaking. Then Justin is suddenly weighted to the floor, can only look out of the cage and whine. It’s Trace. A seven year old Trace. Justin remembers that t-shirt, the holey jeans and messy hair. One glipse of Trace's gap-toothed smile and Justin is a child again, long summer days in the sunshine playing ball.
“Trace,” Justin says, a soft bark and he wants Trace’s hand buried in his scruff. Chubby arms wrapped around his body. Transported back to an uncomplicated time.
“Mom. Look at this one! Trace has his fingers wrapped around the wire, and Justin sidles closer, licks along dirty fingers, provoking a delighted smile. “I like this one. Can we have him? Please?”
Justin whines, pushes his muzzle into a small hand.
“He is handsome.” Trace’s mom is looking into the run. She looks good, relaxed, as she reads something attached to the outside of the cage. “That’s Randy. Three years old. Pleasant nature, gets along with other dogs. A great choice for a family. It says his old owner died. Poor thing. You really want him? You haven’t seen the rest of the dogs yet.”
“No. I want Randy.” Trace has always known what he wants, and he faces his mom, one hand resting on the cage. “He likes me. See.” Justin takes the prompt, licking and unleashing puppydog eyes. Effective when he’s human, they seem to have double impact in dog form, and Trace’s mom scratches Justin through the wire.
“Okay, honey. It’s your choice. We need to go fill in the paperwork and get things sorted. Come on, lets go tell the kennel man that you've found your dog.”
Trace leaves reluctantly with a last fingertip stroke along Justin’s fur.
The barking dies down when Trace and his mom leave. There’s a residue of sadness, disappointment from those not picked. Justin hangs his head. He hadn’t missed Trace until he’d seen him, but now the sensation is keen.
“Was that Trace? It looked like a mini version of him.” Lance asks
“Yeah.” Justin sighs. “I can remember him getting a dog, but it was years ago.”
“I guess time isn’t an issue for this thing then.” Joey turns in place and then curls up in a tight circle. Shifting as Lance settles close to his side, white fur pressed against brown.
Being at the mercy of time is a scary thought, and Justin has the urge to dig. Smother this fear by scratching at the floor. He flexes his paws but lies still after one tentative scrape of claw against concrete.
“I just wish I knew why we were here.” JC’s eyes are wide as he lies next to Chris. They’re sharing warmth but there’s something more, comfort through touch, and Justin knows Chris’ time is running short. He doesn’t know how, it’s just a bone deep knowledge that’s always there.
“I thought. You know, when I saw Trace. That was it.” Justin settles down next to Chris and JC, says softly. “I don’t know what to do.”
“There’s only one thing we can do,” Joey says, and his ears are flat to his head. Lance whines softly, and licks along Joey’s muzzle, over the flattened ears.
“I know. We wait.” It’s not the answer Justin wants. It’s the only one they have.
~*~*~*~
Justin only wakes up when the door shuts with a clang. He should have woken before, blames this stupid situation that hasn’t allowed them to eat, to sleep. He’s exhausted, but still, he should have woken before. Now it’s too late and Chris is on the other side of the fence, cradled in someone’s arms.
Jumping up, front legs against the fence, Justin barks in surprise. It’s Nick. Again. He looks young, hair pulled back in a ponytail and dressed in shorts and t-shirt. Chris is cradled against his chest, and Nick’s petting him, crooning under his breath, hand almost covering Chris’ side.
JC’s next to Justin now, Lance standing under him. Joey at Justin’s other side. The air feels thick, confusion and apprehension. Then Nick starts to move away.
“Chris!” JC leaps, jumping at the mesh. It moves under his weight, bows when Justin Lance and Joey pound against it too. Yelling and barking, frantic as Chris yelps, squirms in Nick’s arms.
“Hey now, Champ. You’re feisty for an old guy.” Nick strokes along Chris’ head and Justin tries to kid himself. That this is okay, Chris is going to see the vet, is going to be made better.
“It’s Nick. I can get away from him. He’s a pussy.” Chris is still struggling, small legs thrashing in the air. He’s held tight, though, and he’s getting nowhere. Chris keeps fighting, yelping, and a chorus of dogs back his every word.
Justin’s paws flex against the mesh, wire digging into his pads. “Chris. What? What’s going on?” He feels sick, knows the answer, has to ask anyway as Chris looks back at him.
“In dog years I’m ancient. No one wants me and they can only keep us so long.” Chris stops talking then. He’s afraid, shivering under Nick’s comforting hand. Then there’s a shift, a moment when he hides the fear, reassuring as he looks their way. “It’s okay. Nick was talking to me before you woke up. I’ll just go to sleep. Nothing to it. But damn, of all the ways Backstreet could do me in.”
“No!” JC throws himself at the mesh, body slamming into it again and again. “No!”
“Hey, no. ‘C. It’s okay. Really. You’re gonna hurt yourself.” Chris’ eyes are liquid, and Justin discovers that dogs can cry too as he feels salty tears soak into his fur. “I don’t want to see any of you soon. Love you.”
Nick turns a corner, and Chris is gone. Justin falls to the floor, body like ice while JC keeps throwing himself at the fence, specks of blood from his paws scenting the air, and Lance and Joey howl.
~*~*~*~
Justin sits on the red blanket as the shadows move across the run.
The air is still, smothering as he waits. Then something twists deep inside, a part of him wrenched away and forever gone.
He whimpers, JC, Lance and Joey are heavy against his body, a song of grief trapped in their throats.
~*~*~*~
Justin smells Nick before he sees him. The scent of their Nick, top notes of make-up and alcohol has been replaced by dog, but still, on a deeper level, this Nick is sunshine and ocean too. “Come on, guys. Walkies.” Nick’s outside the run, four leashes held in his hand. Justin hates him. He doesn’t know how Nick’s here, working in an animal shelter in the past, but he doesn’t care. He hates him anyway. Nick opens the door, but Justin doesn’t move, just keeps his head on his paws. “Come on, it’s a beautiful day, perfect for a walk.”
With a quick snap, the lead is attached to Justin’s collar. Feeling a tug around his neck, he has to stand, waiting for the others. Eventually they leave in a jumble of dogs, Lance’s tail brushing under JC’s belly, Joey’s pointed ear against Justin’s side. Walking the corridor is an onslaught of noise and smells, dogs of all sizes jumping in their runs, wanting to get outside.
Justin’s claws click against the floor, and he sniffs again as they finally step into the sun. Head up, mouth open, tasting freedom and fresh air after being trapped inside. They’re led to a small enclosed field. It smells overwhelmingly of dog, and Justin darts for the fence, cocking his leg. This is his space now, and even knowing how irrational that is, he can’t help feeling pleased. Satisfied that he’s made his mark.
“Go on, lads. Have fun.” Nick unclips the leads, and Justin is running, long legs powering through the grass. It feels good, the wind whipping through his ears, the earth under his paws, sorrow pushed briefly aside. He can taste nature. It sings to him, pulling at urges he can’t understand.
He keeps running, circling repeatedly, barking at the air. Crying out his pain at losing Chris, at his family left so far behind. Justin adjusts effortlessly when Joey joins his song, harsh yips as he follows, always a half circuit behind. Lets Lance’s howl ground them, tiny legs a blur as he joins in, JC’s ears streaming back, mouth wide with song.
They’re Justin’s pack, his people, his brothers, and they mourn for the one they have lost.
Eventually they slow, sides heaving, panting for breath. Collapsing in a heap, Justin rests his head against JC’s side, comforted by the beat of his heart as hair tickles against his nose. Nick is leaning against the fence, talking to someone on his cell. Justin watches him for a moment, listens to disjointed words float on the wind. It’s difficult to make them out, easier to listen to the birds that cry out overhead, the faint noise from the kennel block, the sound of leaves rustling in trees. Then Justin hears something new, pricks his ears to hear more.
“Trace.” He stands, carefully steps over Lance and moves to the fence on the farthest side of the enclosure, sticking his head between the slats. Trace and his mom are hand in hand, standing across a driveway, next to a building with notice boards attached to the wall. Justin tries to read the posters but his vision is skewed, colours dimmed to grey. He watches as a woman he doesn't recognise steps into view, ushering Trace and his mom inside.
The door shuts, but Justin doesn’t move. He feels edgy, the air electrifying around him.
“Justin?” Lance tucks his head under Justin’s chin, bumping softly.
“There’s something wrong. You can feel it, right?” Justin looks at the others, and knows they’re feeling it too. He’s reminded of waiting to go on stage, adrenalin pumping but having to remain still.
Justin whines, his whole body quivering.
“Look.” JC’s muzzle is almost through the slats in the fence. He’s looking toward the building with the posters and ice shivers down Justin’s spine when he sees Trace ease out of the door.
“Randy!” Trace claps his hands, and carefully picks his way down the steps. Justin starts to bark, trying to attract Nick’s attention, but he’s still talking on the other side of the enclosure. They all bark, an explosion of sound, but it’s no good. Trace is at the bottom of the steps, smile wide and faded dusty jeans.
“Trace. No!” Justin is yelling, but of course Trace doesn’t understand and just sees his dog, barking. He can’t hear what Justin can : the purr of an engine, wheels against the road surface, a car coming close “No!” The fence is high, but Justin won’t see another friend die. He takes steps back, runs forward and leaps, paws scrabbling at the fence, claws digging into the wood.
“Randy!” Trace yells in excitement, running forward, focussed only on his dog. He doesn't see the car that’s appeared around the corner. Justin’s feet find the top of the fence and he’s flying through the air, hitting Trace in the chest and knocking him to the floor.
Trace lands on the dusty verge, startled into tears, but unhurt. Justin isn’t as lucky. Metal slams into his side and back legs. He's thrown across the driveway, landing against the fence. He tries to take a breath, but there’s something broken inside, a stabbing pain and the taste of blood against his tongue. Justin shuts his eyes against the falling darkness, but he can still hear the cries of his friends mixed with Trace’s sobs.
~*~*~*~
“Justin! Justin, wake up!”
Justin forces open his eyes, wincing against the harsh light. He’s hurting, remembered aches concentrated in his legs and side, but rolls onto his back. JC is looking down at him, one hand on Justin’s shoulder, skin pale and eyes red-rimmed.
“I thought you were dead.” His hand bunches against Justin’s shoulder, voice rough with sorrow. “Don’t do that again.”
“He’d better not. I just about died again when he appeared. One death is enough for me.”
“Chris?!” Justin sits up, staring at Chris who’s sitting, leaning against the wall, looking unimpressed with the whole situation.
“The one and only. Not only did I die, which may I say, sucked. I ended up in some kind of animal after life. Not that it was bad or anything, just I’d planned for hot girls and guys in skimpy clothes, golf and beer. Not Bambie, Lassie and an unlimited supply of chew toys. Oh, by the way Joey. Ermil the hamster says thanks a lot for sitting on him.” Chris waves away Joey’s protests, focussed only on Justin. “Then, you appear. About scared ten years off my life.”
“Well technically if you’re already dead…” Justin doesn’t finish his thought, is gathered into a sudden crushing hug, Chris’ arms wrapped around him. “You died,” Justin says, the words whispered into Chris’ ear.
“I came back,” Chris says simply, making room in the hug for Lance, Joey and JC.
~*~*~*~
“I want to go home.” Justin’s standing next to door number three. He’s tired, hungry and his mouth tastes of dog biscuits.
“You’re not the only one.” JC rests his hand against Justin’s arm, squeezing slightly. “Twenty-five more and we’ll get home.” He looks at the door. “I mean, object transformation. How hard can it be? It's got to be better than us getting transformed again, anyway. ”
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Date: 2006-07-24 07:48 pm (UTC)