(no subject)

[green_queen]

Title: Crutch
Rating: R
Pairing: Justin/JC
Notes: Christmas present for _green_, a hurt/comfort piece. 4106 bloody words long. Ridiculous. Title from the Matchbox Twenty song of the same name.
Summary: Justin and JC can't stand being weak.

Crutch

Out of all of them, Justin decided, Chris was really the strong one. Joey was strong, too, but only to a point, beyond which he was utterly lost. Mostly, that point involved break-ups and broken hearts. So Joey was strong for others, but rarely for himself. Justin, though, was weak. He was horrendously weak, and he knew it, hated himself for it every time someone got hurt and ever goddamned time he broke up with Britney.

When Justin stumbled home half-drunk to find JC crying and bleeding on his couch, he hardly knew what to do. He flat out denied himself the impulse to run. This was JC, his JC, his friend who he’d known for half his life, maybe more.
“I’m sorry I wrecked your couch,” JC mumbled from the side of his mouth that wasn’t split, and Justin let himself cry, just a little, just enough so JC couldn’t tell in the dark of the house. He wanted to rush in and hug JC and squeeze all the pain and sorrow right out of him, but was too scared of further injuring him. He settled instead for rushing to the upstairs bathroom (why did he keep the damned thing upstairs? Illogical, impractical, stupid, Justin) and grabbing the phone on his way back into the lounge. He’d already dialled the numbers when JC angrily pulled the phone from his hand and jabbed at the “off” button.
”There’s a reason I came here, Justin,” he said furiously before collapsing back onto the couch, face distorted with agony.
“Ok, but hold still,” Justin said, dabbing JC’s lip inexpertly with a towel and wondering desperately what he could do. “Hold still, C, dammit,” he chided again, but JC’s eyes filled with tears as he looked away shamefully.
“Can’t. Hurts,” JC said, almost inaudibly.
“What hurts?” asked Justin gently. When he didn’t get an answer, he pulled JC forward. The back of JC’s shirt was caked with blood.
Justin forced JC out of the shirt, a little too rough in his urgency, and JC groaned. Three long cuts marred JC’s perfect skin right down to the small of his back, and his sides and stomach were covered with ugly yellow-and-blue bruises.
“What the fuck? JC?” Justin cried, forcing the words past the fast-growing lump in his throat as realisation dawned on him. JC looked up at him, his eyes filled with anguish and so much hurt that tears immediately sprang to Justin’s. Justin instinctively yanked JC into his arms, ignoring his brain, which was still yelling warnings at his fast-beating heart. JC burrowed into Justin’s shirt under his chin while Justin rocked him back and forth quickly in small, frantic movements, as edgy as Justin felt.

Gradually over the next fifteen minutes the rocking motion became steadier and slower, more comforting, as Justin calmed down enough to formulate a plan.
“JC. Hey, c’mon, JC,” he said gently, finally able to exact some control over his vocal chords. He leaned back and supported JC by pressing his hands to the injured man’s shoulder. JC made to lean forwards again, but Justin refused, determined to be strong. “C, I know you’re hurting, I know that, but we’ve gotta get these scratches and bruises cleaned up a little. You don’t wanna scar, right? You’re a big pop star now.” JC shoved him away and got to his feet, glaring and wincing simultaneously.
“Don’t treat me like some fucking child, J. I’m not a fucking kid!” he yelled at Justin’s calm face. The outburst took all of his energy, and he started to slump over again, Justin springing up to snake a supporting arm around his waist to hold him up. With is other hand Justin held the back of JC’s head, resting his forehead against JC’s while looking him in the eye.
“I know you’re not a child, ok? Even adults need help sometimes. Let me call a doctor I know—“
”No doctors,” JC interjected, pulling away to curl in on himself on the couch, terrified once more.
Justin was shocked at his friend’s massive mood swings (shouldn’t he still be in shock or something?) but refused to let it show on his face.
“She can help you. She’s a good doctor, the best, and you can trust her. Why do you think the press never got wind of that time I had herpes a couple of years ago?” Justin paced back and forth as he spoke rubbing his hand through his hair, while JC watched wide-eyed behind his folded arms. “She’ll help you, and nobody will know anything. JC,” he said, his tone pleading as he abruptly stopped to sit beside JC on the couch. He allowed the concern he felt in his gut to show in his eyes, and JC softened. “Please let her help us?”
”Us?”
”You’re not going through anything alone.”
JC inclined his head in thanks and agreement, then lowered it to his knees while Justin grabbed the phone.

“Now tell me where Danny is,” said Justin firmly, having called Dr. Rascoyne, Chris, Joey, Lance and Karen.
JC looked like he’d just been punched in the face again, but Justin was absolutely determined to hurt the man who’d hurt JC.
“How do you know…”
”I know, JC. Tell me,” ordered Justin again. JC shook his head mutely and curled up tighter, so his knuckles were white clinging to his upper arms and the cuts on his back opened further. Justin sighed and laid his hands over JC’s. JC fought back the urge to flinch and pull away, but he didn’t open up any either.
“Okay, I won’t make you tell me now. It’s ok. We’ll just wait for the doctor,” Justin said, giving in and allowing JC to fold himself into Justin’s chest, hidden and protected.

“You really should have taken him to the hospital” were Dr. Rascoyne’s first words to Justin when she emerged from the bedroom where she’d examined JC.
“I really should have taken him to the hospital but?” Justin replied. He was chewing his thumbnail like he wanted to bite the whole thumb off, with bloodshot and worried eyes.
“I stitched and bandaged him up and left some pills for the pain and some cream. You’ll have to make sure he gets it,” the middle-aged doctor told him, giving him a sharp look over the top of his glasses. He nodded reassuringly.
“Thanks, Georgia.”
”Anytime, Justin. You’re going to need to take good care of him, you know. He’s beaten up pretty badly, and I don’t just mean physically,” she said as she steered Justin down the hall with a hand on his shoulder. “Have you told his family? Or the other boys?”
”I left messages for most of them, Chris is already on his way. Really, Georgia, thanks. If I can ever repay you…” Justin let the thought go, hugging the doctor tightly before she left through the back door.
Returning to his room, Justin found JC cleaned up and bandaged, already asleep under the crisp white sheets of Justin’s bed. He grabbed his old, worn boxers off the chair and took his shoes off, then padded softly over to JC to smooth back the curly, unruly hair that lay on his pillow. He switched off the light then crept back out to the lounge to sleep. Seeing the drying blood staining the purple upholstery again hit him like a punch to the gut. He crumpled to the floor, sobbing as quietly as he could, feeling as though the ground had been pulled out from under his feet and he was falling into oblivion.

Chris let himself into the house without bothering to knock, running straight into the lounge. He knocked over a vase on the way, probably some fake ‘antique’ that Justin had bought at a charity auction on a whim. It seemed to take forever to hit the ground, but when it did the sound shattered the silence, ringing loudly long after it had fallen.
Justin appeared in the doorway, his clothes still stained with JC’s blood from the night before. He looked lost, his beauty marred by all the blood and guilt. Chris grabbed him and hugged him, hard enough for him to feel his back crack. He squeezed Chris back with equal force, feeling the air forced out of his lungs, the intense pressure on his chest comforting him by reminding him that he was still breathing.
“Where’s JC?” Chris asked sharply, and he pulled away. Justin just gestured helplessly upwards with his hand, so Chris ran to the guest bedroom upstairs. He panicked when he didn’t find JC there, before logic set in and he thundered back down towards Justin’s room.

JC was lying so still that for a moment Chris thought he must be dead. When the bandaged back rose very slightly, Chris breathed a heavy sigh of relief. He jumped when JC’s eyes turned to meet his.
“Don’t say anything, Chris,” JC’s cracked voice mumbled, burying his face in the pillow.
“Oh, C,” Chris breathed, and JC felt the bed dip as Chris sat on the edge. “I wouldn’t--I’d never…” Unable to finish the sentence, Chris patted the rise of JC’s shoulder thrugh the sheets.
“Just…leave me alone, Chris.”
“No,” said Chris stubbornly, shifting so that he was more firmly placed on the bed, his weight rolling JC towards him slightly. JC winced at the pain.
“Chris!”
”Not going anywhere, baby.”
”God fucking dammit, Chris…”
”I’m staying right here with you.” With every retort Chris had pushed himself further onto the bed until his legs were right next to JC’s head. JC forced himself up to face his bandmate.
“Don’t you fucking get it? I don’t deserve your sympathy. It’s my own fucking fault.” JC was crying now, and Chris’s expression was unreadable through the heavy tears. “Now I’ve lost Danny, and disgusted Justin, and I just can’t—I can’t—“
He collapsed onto Chris’s stomach, balling his fists in the grey sweatshirt and struggling for breath, Chris’s hand made long, sweeping strokes up his back, the other hand firm and anchoring in the mess of JC’s curls.
“That’s it…it’s okay. You cry it out,” Chris muttered, his tone soothing and so full of love it nearly made JC’s stomach turn.
“Don’t fucking love me!”
“No choice, honey. We all love you, no matter what. You got that? No matter how bad your taste in men is, or how much you hate yourself, or how hard you push us away.” JC’s sobs began to subside, and Chris grabbed a pill from the site table, with a glass of water. He raised them questioningly at JC, who merely nodded, and began to help JC take them while he continued talking. “You’re talented and beautiful and kind and ditzy and ours. We love you. Your family, me, Joe, Lance, Justin—especially Justin.”
“Justin,” repeated JC, smiling faintly. “Justin was so good…last night, Chris. Helped me so much.” Chris could see the drugs wearing in, in the glaze of JC’s eyes.
“That’s right, baby. Justin loves you. Go on and sleep, and me and Justin, we’ll take care of you,” he whispered.
By the time he shut the door behind him, JC was already asleep.

“Dammit, Justin Randall Timberlake, if you don’t stop moping and start thinking about JC I’m gonna have to kick your ass,” Chris said as he entered the kitchen where Justin was sitting slumped over the table, staring into space. He felt guilty as soon as Justin turned to face him, gaunt and pale.
“He’s all I’m thinking about, Chris,” Justin whispered. “I can’t do this. I can’t take care of him. You and Georgia both keep saying I have to, but I just can’t. I can’t keep seeing him like this.”
”Thinking about JC my ass, Justin, I’ve never heard anything so selfish,” said Chris as he walked over to perch on the edge of the table, facing Justin.
“You know I’m selfish, Chris. I’m not strong like you.”
“If last night wasn’t strong, I don’t know what is.”
”I was horrible to him! I yelled at him and I made him see someone he didn’t want to and…”
”And you did the right thing. You did what you had to, end of discussion.” Which it more or less was, because the phone started ringing as soon as Chris was done talking. When Justin didn’t move to answer it, Chris hit the speaker phone button.
”Justin, what happened to JC?” Lance’s deep, panicked voice said, followed by Joey’s.
“Is he okay?”
“Justin’s a little preoccupied right now, but JC…well, he’s been hurt pretty badly, but he’s alive. We’re taking good care of him,” said Chris as Justin left the room. He could hear him slump down the hall to the bathroom, and the shower started running.
“You think we should fly out?”
”I don’t know, I think maybe we should give Justin a little time to work this out with JC. How about I give you guys a call when JC’s feeling a littler better?”
”You sure we shouldn’t come over there, Chris?” Lance asked worriedly. Chris nodded, then realised Lance couldn’t see him.
“Yeah, I’m sure. You’ll see him soon, I promise,” he replied. “Bye boys.”
”Say hi to Justin and JC for us,” Joey said as they hung up.

Justin was still in the shower an hour later when the doorbell rang, a coincidence for which Chris was incredibly grateful when he peered through the peephole and saw Danny standing outside, wearing a wrinkled shirt and holding a bunch of wilted flowers in his fist, his jaw clenched. He debated whether or not to open the door, then settled for opening it with the safety chain on.
“Piss off, Danny, before we call the police,” he warned in a low voice, glaring up into Danny’s eyes. Being about a foot taller than Chris, Danny didn’t seem particularly intimidated.
“JC!” Danny yelled through the crack in the door. Chris swore loudly and tried to shut it, but his body mass wasn’t enough to push Danny away. “JC, I’m sorry! Get down here and talk to me!”
Chris wasn’t at all surprised when Justin came storming down the hallway in a pair of sweatpants, still dripping wet, fists ready at his side. Even Danny, who was twice as wide as Justin easily, was starting to look somewhat bemused.
“I’ll fucking kill him,” Justin hissed to Chris as he passed, shoving Chris’s hand off his chest. “Let me through and I’ll beat him to a fucking pulp.”
“Justin, leave it. It’s not your place,” Chris said in a low voice, trying to stay calm. “JC can decide what to do with him later.”
“JC can decide what to do with him now,” said a quieter voice from the doorway. JC was hunched over in one of Justin’s wifebeaters that showed most of his cuts and bruises, leaning on the doorframe for support, but there was a fury in his eyes. Justin’s face changed as soon as he saw JC; he paled, his features rearranged from anger and hatred into sympathy and anguish, and he ran to support JC. JC pushed him away and stumbled to the door.
“Danny, I don’t want my friends to have to hurt you as much as you hurt me. Go away before I call the cops,” he said in a low and dangerous voice. Chris could see that he was forcing himself to stay calm, but his hands were trembling slightly and there were tears already forming in his eyes.
“Come back to me, JC. It’ll never happen again, I swear, I was drunk…”
”I’m not some helpless housewife, Danny, and I’m, not coming back. Leave me alone,” JC repeated. Chris moved to stand behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder in support. JC straightened, and when he spoke again his voice was firmer. “Go away, Danny.”
Danny threw the flowers at the door and JC caught a stem in the face. He didn’t make a move to defend himself, just stood there as the stem fell to the ground, one hand on his ribs and the other by his side. Danny snarled at him.
”You weak fuck. Can’t even defend yourself from flowers. You think you’re going to be okay without me? You’ll be crawling back to me by this time next week, and you’ll pay for leaving me. You hear me fucker?” Danny was getting desperate, but by now Justin was stirred back to action. He stormed over to the door, pushed JC and Chris out of the way gently, and stepped through, closing it behind him. Danny barely had time to blink before he was on the ground, nursing a broken jaw. Justin massaged his hand where he’d punched the taller man and glared down at him.
“You heard JC. I’d kill you if he let me, but he won’t. So you can just fuck off and leave him alone,” Justin growled. Then he re-entered the house, leaving Danny on the doorstep.

After Justin shut the door, JC just stood staring at the dark wood with tears pouring down his cheeks, ignoring Chris’s attempts to move or comfort him. He only blinked when Justin came back in and made that face again, the sorrowful pitying face that he made every time he saw JC. Without thinking, JC reached up and pushed Justin with the hand not holding his ribs, and moved away from his friends.
“Stop feeling sorry for me, you bastards,” he yelled at their worried faces. “I don’t need your fucking pity and I don’t need your help. Leave me alone.” He stalked down the hallway, stabbing pain shooting through his body with every step, making him more angry and frustrated. He heard Justin and Chris call after him and, even louder, Danny’s slurred voice in his head, yelling at him over and over again. “You weak fuck. I’ll show you, you bastard. You’ll give me what I want, or I’ll fucking show you. Come here you little shit.” His breath was coming in great, uneven sobs that hurt his bruised chest as he threw on his bloodstained shirt to leave.
He didn’t even make it down the hallway before he collapsed again. C’mon with the pain, fucker, he screamed mentally at his body. That’s right, you weak piece of shit. You hurt as much as you want.
But then Justin’s arms were around him and Chris was there helping Justin carry him back to the bedroom, and warm hands were taking his shirt off again. He punched helplessly at Justin’s arms, face, chest, anything within reach, but Justin ignored his flailing fists and held him, rocking him back and forth on the soft bed. Eventually JC lost the energy to hit out, to sob and scream, and he just cried again, wishing that every time he saw Justin it didn’t have to be like this. Stupid, weak JC.
“I’m sorry,” he rasped, and he felt Justin’s head shake and arms tighten.
“I’m sorry back,” Justin replied, and didn’t let go again until JC was asleep.

When JC woke up, he felt so much better he could hardly believe he was the same person that had fallen asleep in Justin’s arms. He opened his eyes and yawned thickly, rolling his head to the side to see the time. 3 pm. Fuck.
“Justin? Chris?” he called faintly, glancing around the room. In the doorway, Justin jumped slightly, spilling a little soup over the side of the bowl.
“Jesus, JC, you scared me. I didn’t know you were awake,” he said, but he sounded more happy than annoyed. He brought came over to helped JC sit up, sitting the tray in his lap.
“Chris’s mom’s miracle broth,” he proclaimed proudly when he saw JC staring dubiously at the thick brown concoction.
“Justin, is that time right?” asked JC, waving his hand at the clock. Justin nodded. “But it was 4 pm when Danny came. That means…”
”Don’t you remember waking up since Danny was here?” Justin asked, frowning, and JC could see that he was already thinking of calling the doctor again. JC shook his head. “We came in here and gave you soup and pills. You didn’t say much.”
”Must’ve worked. I feel better, Justin, Really,” JC insisted when Justin looked at him dubiously.
They sat quietly while JC ate his soup, Justin maintaining some distance, only leaning over to help once in a while. At one stage Justin’s long-sleeved shirt got caught on the tray and pulled up slightly, revealing a large purple bruise on his forearm. JC flushed, realising he must have been the one to put it there. Finally, when it was finished, JC bit his lip and looked down.
“J, look, I just wanted—is Chris here?”
”Nah, went to get some soup ingredients.”
”Oh. Well, I wanted to thank you. Both of you, but especially you. I’m sorry—“
”You don’t have to be—“
”No, wait, let me finish. I’m sorry I hurt you, and I’m sorry I was so weak and stupid. You’ve been…you’ve helped me, so much. You got that doctor, and called Chris, and got rid of…of him. Thankyou,” he said sincerely.
“Dude, you got hurt bad. You weren’t weak or stupid, you did the smartest thing in coming here. I’m just sorry I couldn’t be better, or help your more or something,” replied Justin sincerely. JC shook his head and started to talk, but Justin interrupted. “Your mom’s on the way over, she’ll be here in about an hour, and Joey and Lance will be here tonight. They’ll be able to help more, like Chris did, and then—“
Justin broke off in surprise when JC started to lean in, eyes closed, to softly kiss Justin’s mouth. When he opened them again, his warm brown eyes met Justin’s with a surprising clarity and peace that Justin hadn’t thought he’d see again.
“You—JC, are you sure this is what you want?” he asked uncertainly. JC kissed him again.
“Justin, you’re the one you helped me. You took care of me and you l-loved me. I know I’m kinda fucked up right now, but you’re—I know this is right. I know it. I don’t know what was in that damn soup, but I think my mind is clearer now than it has been in a long time,” said JC. Justin broke into a grin that nearly split his face in two, and for the first time in what had to be months JC smiled too.
”As long as you’re sure,” Justin said quietly before kissing JC. Their noses bumped together and he could still taste the metallic tang of blood on JC’s lip where it had been cut, but JC opened his mouth to allow Justin’s tongue in, and his friend’s injuries were swept from his mind as their mouths fought for more and deeper contact.

Justin hardly saw JC that night for Joey, Lance, Karen and Chris all vying for his attention, fluffing pillows and forcing food down his throat, making him feel better. He sat back happily and watched JC’s wounds heal before his eyes, JC laughing as he assured his mother that he was alright and telling Joey that he didn’t really need any more spaghetti, but thanks for the offer.
Justin relaxed into his chair, watching JC watch TV, the others hovering around him like mother hens. His eyes met JC’s for a moment and they smiled, JC filled with a self-assurance that he thought he’d lost.
Chris thudded down into Justin’s lap and broke the contact between JC and Justin. Justin laughed and shoved Chris off him.
“You fixed him,” Chris noted, nodding towards JC, who was now happily informing Lance that he didn’t need to be walked to the bathroom. Justin just smiled. “Never lost faith in you, infant.”
Joey and Lance, their focus gone once JC had left the room, tackled Chris from behind, and Chris snaked a hand around Justin’s ankle and pulled him to the ground with them, poking him incessantly until he started crying tears of mirth. Even Karen’s worried face cracked a smile when Joey grabbed Chris and held him upside-down, Chris yelping at JC for help as JC emerged from the bathroom. For a moment, fear flashed in JC’s eyes, just long enough to scare Justin. JC forced it back and laughed, tickling Chris a little and sitting back on the chair with his head in his mother’s lap, watching the fight.
Not quite fixed, Justin thought, but stronger.

Green Queen

Comments

[xanphibian.livejournal.com]

*deep happy sigh*

Oh, now, that was wonderful! There was hurt and comfort and the bastard got a broken jaw! And JC stood up for himself, and he's healing, and Justin loves him so much! It's wonderful. And I cheered! I cheered at this: Danny barely had time to blink before he was on the ground, nursing a broken jaw. Justin massaged his hand where he’d punched the taller man and glared down at him.
“You heard JC. I’d kill you if he let me, but he won’t. So you can just fuck off and leave him alone,” Justin growled. Then he re-entered the house, leaving Danny on the doorstep.

and I cheered at the end, and *squeeee* I love Chris in this. Love, love, love.

*hugs you very very tightly*

It's a wonderful fic, and you wrote it just for ME!! Thank you SO much!

*smooches and licks and gropes you*

[green-queen.livejournal.com]

Wow. When I got this message in my inbox I discovered that this is a 61 kb fic!!! *thuds*

I'm so glad you liked it :) I was worried it would be generic and rubbish. *hugs* Merry Christmas!