~~~
it doesn't really matter
sometimes we run for cover
i'm always on the outside
- Sugababes, "Run For Cover"
~~~

Sometimes, it was easy to forget about the things that happened. Joey was getting pretty good at not thinking about it, and Chris was even better at pretending nothing ever happened, but it tended to catch up to them, usually late at night, when one of them was disturbed and started acting out in subtle yet obvious ways.

"Joe. What's up?"

Joey looked up and smiled at Chris, putting down the newspaper. "Nothing, man."

"It's three in the morning," Chris pointed out, "and that paper's five months old."

Joey looked at the date and finally realised why the sense of deja-vu was almost overwhelming. The problem was he'd read everything else in the room, and there was nothing on at this hour.

And he couldn't sleep, but that was obvious.

"You look ragged again," Chris said, sitting on the couch, a foot away from Joey. Joey tried to position himself more openly, to encourage Chris to move in closer, but evidently it wasn't one of those nights and Chris stayed back. "I'm sorry."

"Stop apologising," Joey said immediately, in a neutral, calm voice. "The problem is me, not you." Joey rolled his jaw, choking on the guilt Chris bore for something Joey knew wasn't Chris's fault, and it hurt every time Chris apologised, hurt in a place deep and mostly hidden. "I'm fine."

"Fuck you," Chris said quietly, barely meaning it, "it's bad enough I brought --"

"Chris." Joey spoke it sharply to get the dark eyes on him, and they rose slowly, focussing in the dim light. "If I found out you didn't tell me, I would have hated myself forever, okay? I love you. All this shit, it's just part of the package."

"Goddamn, Joe." Chris tried to smile, and it came out a bittersweet mix of sadness and love, but Joey loved him even more for trying because Chris never smiled anymore. "You just gotta be the bestest boyfriend in all the world, don't you?"

Joey grinned instead of crying, one or the other but never both. "Yeah."

~~~

"So," Justin said casually, eating Joey's food and taunting Busta with it. "You guys together or something?"

Chris looked up from his latest concept sketch for the FuMan winter line, staring at Justin before looking at Joey, who was lazily flipping through channels. "It appears as though we're in the same room," Chris answered slowly, "but you know, I'm willing to fight you over that."

"Fucker," Justin laughed, "are you dating or not?"

"Yep," Joey replied, settling on the Home Shopping Network and scratching his stomach. "Somebody pass me the phone. I want that," Joey stared, not quite sure what it was, "extremely cool thing they're selling."

Justin ignored Joey and grinned. "That's so cool. Are you guys, like, fucking, too?"

Joey lifted his head sharply, and Chris was staring straight ahead. It was one of those things they didn't talk about because Joey was fine with nothing, and Chris was just barely at the kiss-with-tongue stage, and if they talked about it, it just reminded them, and that wasn't especially good for the belief that nothing ever happened in the first place.

"You bet," Chris said, smiling suddenly. "Want to hear details?"

"Uh, not especially, no," Justin said, blushing furiously, "just wondering."

"Right." Chris looked at Joey, eyes cold, and Joey hated Justin for a second, hated the fact that no one knew, hated the fact that the lies existed. "Right."

~~~

Chris still went through periods where he was unnaturally cruel to the guys, usually JC or Lance but sometimes Justin, who always covered up his hurt with a joke at Joey's expense, some quip about fat butts or rampant stupidity in interviews. JC would just turn his head away then turn it back, smiling like it hadn't hurt.

Lance, once he stopped the crying stage, would regard Chris quietly, his intense green eyes following Chris long after Chris pulled away into his own little world, trying to put his head back together. Chris was aware of what he was doing and always knew when to take a step back.

One day, as Chris made a snarky comment about Lance's inability to grasp a very important dance step for an awards show, Lance merely took the biting words then hugged Chris tightly between his arms, holding him and whispering words no one could hear. Joey thought, from where he stood, it looked like I love you.

Lance was smart. Joey was very aware of this, so when Lance approached him one afternoon while he was working in the garden, trying to weed out the overgrowth, and said -- "Was Chris raped?" -- Joey couldn't even really be surprised.

Joey didn't say anything, couldn't really without breaking his word. Yes was a certain betrayal. Ask Chris was just as bad. Why? was too painful to say because it led to questions, and Joey couldn't find any answers as to why this ever happened.

Lance sat down on the grass, his knee pulled to his chest. "Joey?"

Joey swallowed loudly and continued gardening before realising it was the same thing as saying yes. It was one of those damned if you do, damned if you don't scenarios, Joey was sure of it. "Why are you asking me this?"

"Because I can't ask him," Lance replied seriously. "It seems to me that he was, and it also seems to me that you know about it. Chris doesn't just get angry, Joey, and you don't just take it. There's more to it than Chris just going through a mid-life crisis a decade early."

"Is that what he told you?" Joey asked, and Lance nodded. "Then accept it."

"Okay, Joey, fine. I'll play it your way." Lance sighed deeply. "I had this friend in High School, like, my only friend because, well, if you haven't noticed, I'm not exactly good at defending myself. Mary. She was my best friend in the whole world, and we stuck together against the bullies. I swear," Joey noticed Lance's accent was exceptionally strong, "she was the only reason I survived. But one day, on the way home from school, a couple of jocks picked her up and," Lance looked at Joey, who stared back, "she was raped."

"Shit," Joey said quietly, putting his hand on Lance's shoulder.

"She survived. It was pretty bad, but Mary was strong like that," Lance said, "but she couldn't take what they left her with, the memories, you know?" Lance closed his eyes for a long, long moment. "She swallowed a bottle of bleach." Those startling green eyes popped open, almost frantic. "Joey, I swear, I wouldn't ask, but Chris acts just like she did at the end."

Joey looked at him. "Chris is fine, Lance."

"She said she was, too," Lance replied and stood up. "Tell him I love him?"

Joey nodded but said nothing.

~~~

It didn't help that Joey came home one night a few days after Lance stopped by to find Chris sitting at the piano, Busta curled into his lap while he sobbed onto the poor, confused beast. It was dark as death, and Joey almost turned on the light, not realising Chris was there, but stopped abruptly when he heard the familiar sounds.

"Chris?" Joey said tentatively.

"Fuck off," Chris muttered, "just go. All right? Leave me alone."

Joey bit his lip. "Tell someone, please."

"I can't," Chris hissed, "don't you fucking understand? I can't."

"But why?" Joey curled his fingers into twists, nails digging into his palm, and he was sure he was bleeding it stung so bad. Chris took a long time in answering. Joey felt as cold and sick as he felt that horrible night, when he didn't know what to do.

"Joe, just think about it, all right? And leave me alone. Just for awhile," Chris added, "because I'll be all right." Chris looked up, and his eyes were black and deep, and dead, Joey saw, there was still nothing there most of the time. "I love you, Joe. I'm sorry."

Joey nodded, bit his lip and stepped back, turning into the hall and walking up the stairs. Once inside his room, he kicked off his clothes and climbed into bed. It was nine o'clock. He didn't care, but he thought about things, like what Chris had said, though he still didn't understand.

The way Chris was going, there was going to be nothing left.

~~~

They met to talk about the next album in the morning. It was hot outside, and Chris was in mildly good spirits, which was all Joey could hope for, a huge hello kiss in the morning, arms wrapped around his waist while he walked around, a muttered -- "I love you" -- while a hand slid up his spine. These things made Joey happy.

When the guys arrived, Lance immediately embraced Chris, hugging him tightly before wrapping his arms around Joey, squeezing. JC and Justin shared looks but didn't join in, so Joey grabbed them both and kissed them.

"Shit, yo!" Justin cried, squirming and laughing. "It's spreading."

Joey figured JC already knew about him and Chris because of Justin and was quickly proven right. Lance probably knew before all of them, but Lance was like that, just accepting things and not even bothering to ask. No amount of well-meaning lies would alter his beliefs.

In the living room, Chris sat next to Joey, their thighs pressed together as Johnny went over the plan, with JC whipping out Bristol board diagrams that Joey was pretty sure Lance designed, explaining about stuff that Joey couldn't be concerned with. Who cared, really?

"Hey, Joey, do try to stay awake," Johnny suggested helpfully, and Joey looked up, confused because time had lapsed and Chris was shaking him awake. Dumbly, he nodded. "Great. So as I was saying --"

Joey was back asleep in seconds, head tipped back and hearing himself snoring. It was kind of weird, he thought, mostly dreaming, and he could hear Justin saying something about -- "narcolepsy , yo" -- but Joey couldn't be bothered to stay awake.

In fact, he surrendered completely and slept for three days straight.

~~~

Lance just never went back to Mississippi. He said he was going to, but he temporarily moved in with Joey and Chris. Joey didn't really question, didn't really feel like thinking anymore, and he usually didn't, just watched television with Chris or slept for twelve hours a day. Lance cooked and cleaned and kept them both alive.

"Lance knows,"Chris said one night, lying between Joey's legs and flipping through the channels, and Joey shrugged even though it wasn't a question. "Did you tell him?"

"Nope," Joey said, and that, at least, was the truth.

"But he knows," Chris said, like he couldn't understand it, and Joey took his hand and held it, warm and tight between his fingers. Chris was dangerously still, and it took Joey a good minute before he realised he was crying. "Fuck it, I didn't want him to know, Joe."

Joey wanted to say something, but there just weren't any words left to say.

"Fuck," Chris repeated and pulled away, standing up and looking frantic. Joey looked to the door, where Lance was standing with tea and cookies, the green eyes set on Chris, and Chris just twitched and shook. Joey felt like an animal. "You weren't fucking supposed to know!"

Lance set the tea and cookies down on the table, and Joey watched Chris step forward, violently angry, but Lance just stood there, ready to take it all if he had to. Chris pointed at him and repeated, "you weren't supposed to know, Lance."

Lance folded Chris into his arms, and Chris dug his fingers into Lance's back, making noises muffled by Lance's shirt. Lance looked at Joey, who turned his head away and wanted to go away. To just. Stop. Existing, living, breathing.

Joey got up and left the room, leaving Lance to deal with the knowledge and needing to breathe, deeply and out of relief because, finally, someone else knew, and, finally, there would be someone there for Chris if Joey couldn't be, if he needed to go to the store and couldn't because he had visions that maybe the guy knew where they lived, and maybe the guy was an even sicker fuck that he was already, and maybe. Fucking maybe. It controlled Joey's life.

"Fuck," Joey whispered and needed a drink or a smoke or. A nice fucking big knife. Something. Joey sat down on the terrace, his back against the sliding glass doors to his bedroom. "Fuck, fuck, fuck. Fuck."

~~~

Joey eventually fell into bed, lying there for the longest time, naked except for a sheet and just staring at bare walls. He could hear Lance in the kitchen, cleaning, and thought he'd probably have lost it long before now if it hadn't been for Lance.

By the time midnight came, the entire house was quiet, and Joey was still awake, too exhausted to sleep and too agitated to even think about moving. If he did, he'd renovate the living room or build a birdhouse or cook a ten course meal.

He thought about phoning JC or Justin, but he realised he didn't really do that anymore. They phoned him, and made him go out, and made him leave Chris behind because Chris didn't go out ever, and no one but Lance seemed to notice that. Lance never went out because Chris never went out, but Lance was always the one to stay home anyway. Joey had to go because if he didn't then they'd know something was up. And fuck, why couldn't they just know? Why couldn't it be obvious to them?

Joey shifted in bed and nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw Chris lifting the covers on the other side, sliding under them and lying there, staring at the ceiling. "Hey," he said, eventually turning his head, his eyes black in the dark. "Is this all right?"

"Yep," Joey said, "I'll just put on some clothes --"

"No," Chris said, grabbing hold of Joey's wrists, "it's fine, Joe."

Joey nodded and lay back down, looking at Chris who stared back, shifting a little closer. He was naked too, Joey suddenly realised, and put a hand on Chris's chest, holding him still. "Okay, all right. I'm not. Don't do something you don't want to do. I don't need this."

"I just want to be like this," Chris said quietly, lifting Joey's hand off his chest and pressing his face to the palm. "That's it. I just. This is me trying to be strong, all right? Just lie there and let me be strong."

Joey nodded and took a deep breath, but it caught in his throat and choked out abruptly. Chris looked up, and Joey turned his head away, and fuck, but Joey was crying stupid fucking tears, and Joey pressed his fist to his face, muttering, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

"I know," Chris said and let Joey hold him while Joey sobbed huge, painful tears, gasping out words that made no sense, and eventually, Joey cried himself to sleep, Chris's hair damp with tears as the smaller man lay there and just breathed.

~~~

"Good morning," Lance said the next day, frying eggs. Chris smiled crookedly and looked over Lance's shoulder, humming appreciatively before going to sit at the counter and flipping through the paper. Joey opened the fridge and got the carton of orange juice. "Did Chris tell you?"

Joey looked at Chris, who cleared his throat. "Um," Chris said, his fingers paused on the newsprint, already stained light grey, "like, Lance knows this woman who deals with shit. Like, um." Chris sniffed loudly. "Rape and stuff. And um, I'm gonna go talk to her or something."

"He is going to, for sure," Lance said, divvying up the eggs onto three plates. "And so are you."

Joey frowned and finished pouring the juice, bringing a cup over to Chris. Not really upset or anything, just very relieved, Joey put his chin on Chris's shoulder and kissed his neck. Chris semi-smiled, so Joey kissed him again. "Why? I'm all right."

Lance sighed deeply. "No, you're not. And fuck," Lance said, rubbing his face before handing out the plates, tired circles under his eyes. "You two are exactly alike. Joey," Lance glared at Chris, "Chris won't go unless you go. So you're going. Because I say so."

Chris cracked a full smile. "Think you can take us, Bass?"

Lance smirked and punctured an egg with his fork. "It's called a brain. Perhaps you've heard of it? It helps dorks like myself fight against stubborn fools like you two."

Joey laughed lowly, and it felt good, he thought, great to laugh like he meant it. "Plus, you fight like a girl. You go for the balls every time, man."

"Mrow," Lance said, swiping imaginary claws.

Joey laughed and hugged Chris tighter, and Chris smiled back.

Maybe there was hope yet.

~~~

Dana was a childhood friend of Lance's, and she was also Mary's sister. Chris flinched when she said that during the first session, in which Chris wouldn't go in alone so Joey sat with him, and Joey realised Chris knew Lance's story and that's probably why he gave in at all. Chris made Dana sign a contract saying that if she ever let this get out, she owed them two million dollars. She signed it without question, and for that Joey was relieved.

The first few meetings went badly. Chris wouldn't talk in front of Joey, and Joey didn't know what to say, but Chris always refused to attend without him. Joey talked about himself mostly, about how he lost so much weight and found it hard to sleep at night and was terrified of leaving Chris alone.

When Dana started talking about sex, she talked to Joey first, and Joey shifted uncomfortably, especially when she asked if he was all right with waiting until Chris was ready and Chris said, "you know, if you want, you can find someone else. A girl. I won't mind."

"No, I'm fine," Joey replied too sharply, and Chris visibly flinched, but Joey was upset it was even suggested. Joey had never once complained about the situation. "I can wait, man, it's no problem. It's not like," Joey said then stopped abruptly, staring at the floor.

"It's not like what, Joey?" Dana asked patiently.

"You know," Joey said, face a bright red. "I don't really. I mean, it's not a concern for me anymore." Joey stared at his feet and wanted someone to say something else, but they were both waiting. "Um. Kinda impotent," he finally said, feeling pathetic, "right now."

"What?" Chris said, his hand on Joey's knee. "You mean -- ?"

"It's no big deal, right?" He looked at Dana, who was frowning. "I mean, it's normal, right? I just." Joey felt liked he needed to explain himself. "It's not really something I think about anymore, and I. If I do, I don't get hard, you know?"

Dana stared at Joey a long time before saying, "I think we need to split up these sessions, get you two apart for a couple meetings. Okay?"

Chris nodded, so Joey did, too.

It was so fucking hard to forget everything.

~~~

After a few weeks of therapy, Dana suggested Justin and JC be told about what happened. Joey confessed he felt miles apart from them these days, and eventually, Chris relented, though he wasn't happy about it. Joey kissed him on the lips and whispered, "thank you."

Lance cooked dinner the night Justin and JC came over, obviously wary as Chris greeted them at the door, smiling that crooked smile he had, patting them both on the back. Joey could see him shaking but stood back, watching.

The dinner was delicious and filling, perfect like Lance tended to be, and eventually, they moved into the living room. Joey sat down first, and Chris tucked himself against Joey's side, taking Joey's hand. Joey looked at Lance, who knew the plan and smiled weakly.

"So what's up?" Justin finally asked, the twang in his voice pronounced and obvious. Aware that something was out of place, Joey knew, and nervous about what it all meant. JC sat beside him, perfectly quiet. Justin frowned. "Guys, please."

Joey squeezed Chris's shoulders, but Chris was tight and shaking beneath him, and Joey looked down, trying to catch those dark eyes. They darted away. Joey tried to grab Chris's face, but he turned his head and closed his eyes. "Tell them, Joe."

"But you," Joey said and looked at Lance, who was nodding. JC was practically on top of Justin, his eyes wide and blue with what Joey recognised as fear, and Justin was staring at Joey, anger etched on his face. Joey sighed.

"Guys, just know, we love you," Joey started, his voice shaking. "None of this has been easy for any of us, and I. We thank you," Joey said carefully, his fingers burrowed in Chris's hair. "For being this understanding, for not asking. The thing is. The thing."

Joey swallowed loudly and blinked. Fuck. Joey was suddenly cold and shivering, even with Chris's warmth creeping under his skin. "Chris was. Chris." Joey pressed a hand to his mouth, taking a deep breath. "Chris was raped."

There was a breath of silence, and Joey looked at the carpet, a weight gone from his shoulders. No one spoke until Justin choked out a string of words, his eyes wide and bleak.

"What?" Justin said, "what? No."

"Yeah, Jup," Chris muttered from under Joey's arm, and Joey tightened his grip, holding Chris snug against his body. "Sorry."

Justin shook his head, "no, no, Chris. No," and he looked at JC, who had his head down and arms crossed over his belly. Justin looked at Lance, Joey, Chris, all the while shaking his head. "No, no. You were supposed to. It was supposed to be something else. No. No!"

"Justin," Joey said, but Justin was already up and running, shutting himself in the bathroom with a loud, silencing slam of the door. Chris finally looked up, and Joey pressed his lips against the broad forehead, holding him, but Chris barely moved.

JC got up very slowly and glanced around the room, hands tucked under his armpits as he coughed quietly. "I didn't know," JC said bleakly then winced, and Joey waved him over, grateful when JC collapsed against them, head on Chris's back. "Chris, you're so strong. You're still standing. You're so strong, man."

"I guess," Chris said finally, turning to pat JC on the arm, "sometimes."

Joey let Chris latch onto JC, and he patted Lance on the shoulder as he walked by him. They shared sad, half-smiles, and Joey walked to the bathroom door, knocking lightly. "Curly?" Joey said, "open the door."

The lock clicked, and Joey stepped into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. Justin was tucked between the wall and the toilet, rolled into a ball, and Joey slid to the floor, resting on one arm. "Hey."

"Hey," Justin whispered back, sniffing.

Joey inched closer. "You want to talk about anything? Ask some questions?" Joey thought it sounded like the right thing to say, and it was easy to remember Justin was only twenty at times like this, when he was crying in a bathroom.

"Was he -- how long -- when did he. When did he tell you?" Justin finally asked, breathing harsh and fast.

"He came to me the same night, Justin," Joey said, hoping that's the when Justin was talking about. "He wasn't alone. I was here for him, and he's. We're," Joey corrected, "seeing a therapist to help us deal with it. He didn't want you to know. Anyone to know."

Justin nodded. "I didn't want him to be alone." Justin looked up, and his eyes were a pale shade of blue, glazed over with tears. Joey let Justin climb into his arms when he lurched forward, folding him into a hug. "It's not fair, Joey."

"No, it's not," Joey agreed.

"He used to be so happy," Justin said, pressing his face into Joey's shoulder, and Joey stroked his curls, rocking him, the baby of the group and the most innocent, despite Justin's testimony otherwise. "He doesn't laugh anymore, Joey."

"He sometimes does," Joey whispered, "and it gets better everyday."

"Okay." Justin rubbed at his face, chewing on his lips. "Um. Where? Where did it happen?" Justin asked, and Joey said, "in that club in New York. Remember? He went home early, said he was sick. I didn't know yet."

Justin nodded and took a deep breath. "I thought so. But that means," Justin paused and shivered through his entire body, pressing into Joey and clutching him. "That means we were there. That means we let it happen. We." Justin's voice cracked. "We failed him, Joey."

"I know," Joey said, and it hurt to say, but they had failed him completely.

Justin lifted his head. "Does he hates us?"

"He did for awhile," Joey confessed, "but he understands it wasn't anybody's fault but the bastard who hurt him." Joey paused and sighed a harsh breath. "Sometimes, I think he still does, but mostly he just loves us and hates that this hurt him so badly, brought him down from that height he sailed at. You know how Chris hates to think he's failed, even when he hasn't."

"I never thought it would happen to him."

"Me neither." Joey hugged Justin again. "And neither did he."

Justin nodded and moved to stand up, helping Joey up with him. Justin looked in the mirror and wiped his face, sniffling loudly. He looked up, and Joey caught his eyes. Justin tried to smile. "Thank you for saving him, Joey."

Joey nodded, squeezing Justin's shoulder, and they walked back to the living room, where Lance, JC and Chris were curled up in a strange, moving ball of arms and legs. Justin squeezed himself next to JC, and Joey fit himself in against Chris.

And it was fine again, if only for a moment.

~~~
you never seem to wonder
how much you make me suffer
i speak it from the inside

~~~

Fin.

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