The red numbers of the clock shifted slowly in the dark room.
3:09.
3:10.
3:11.
Every once in a while I thought it had stopped. I wanted the time to stop. I didn't want to be in this hospital, I wanted to go home with Lance and forget any of this ever happened.
I couldn't sleep without thinking of that man. The man and his glittering grey eyes, whispered threats, and his crooked nose.
Things like that weren't supposed to happen to me; they happened to other people, to people I didn't know, didn't need to know, didn't want to know.
3:14.
I wanted to be out of the dark.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Chris crept into JC's room as soon as he was allowed to. Joey and Justin hadn't returned yet, and Lance was finally asleep in the waiting room, and Chris didn't want to wake him up because he'd only slept for an hour.
A worried Lance on no sleep was not something Chris wanted to deal with.
"Chris? That you?"
Chris jumped at the soft voice. "Hey, yeah," he said, "s'me."
"Good," JC said, "I was sick of the nurses poking at me all the time."
Chris grinned faintly. "How ya doin'?"
"Well," JC said, "I have needles sticking out of me, and that is not fun, but, other than that, fine."
"You sure?" Chris asked.
"Yeah," JC told him. "I'm good. Fine, good. Well." He stopped. "Chris?" his voice was quieter.
"Hm?"
"Why'd you say that, before? That it wasn't good to be a witness?"
"Because it's not, C," Chris said. "You said it yourself, people are gonna be after you. I just wish we could figure out how to keep you safe."
"I don't wanna be here," JC said. "I wanna go back, and pretend none of this happened, and just." He sighed. "This sucks, man."
"It does," Chris agreed. "You know, I saw a crime once too. Murder, just like you."
JC sat up a little, interested. "Really? When?"
"When I was little," Chris told him. "Nothin' big like this, but, you know, had a knife to my throat and all, wasn't s'posed to tell, but the cops got him the next day anyway. But the rest of that day fucking sucked, man."
JC laughed a little shakily. "It would, wouldn't it?"
Chris shrugged. "You talked to that detective any more?"
JC shook his head. "Nope. He around?"
Chris nodded. "Yeah, he said he'd come in later. Lance is asleep, by the way, or he'd be in here."
"I don't want him worrying about me," JC said softly. "I never wanted him to..." he paused. "I'm glad he's sleeping."
"I know," Chris said. "I know."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"I feel so helpless," Chris heard Lance saying. "God, I can't even do anything for him, just, sit there, and. I hate it, Joey. I wish it was me in there, instead."
"Nah," Joey said, his voice a little strained. "He'd flip out worse n'you. You know that. He'd talk the doctors to death trying to find out information if only to keep himself from biting his fingers off. You, at least you're rational."
"I'd still rather be in his place," Lance said quietly. "Or that I'd at least gone back with him. God! Why didn't I go back, Joey?"
Chris entered the waiting room silently. Joey was rubbing Lance's back in slow circles. "Lance, you can't be asking yourself what ifs, here. What happened happened."
"I know," Lance said. "And that's the worst part."
"Hey, Lance," Chris spoke up. Lance sat up quickly and rubbed at an eye. "Go talk to JC, man. He misses you."
"He's awake? Okay," Lance said, getting up and leaving the room, quickly hugging Joey on the way by. "Thanks," he said.
"He's so--" Joey began, and stopped. "I don't even know what to do," he said. "I just. I can't help him, Chris, and that's fucking killing me."
"I know," Chris said. "They'll work it out. We'll all work it out, together. We'll be fine."
"Mmm," Joey said, but fell silent.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Hey, Donny," Detective Mike Jackson said. "How you?"
"Good," Donny Michaels said, "but, there's news on that murder case, the Jeffery Cole one, with the popstar."
"Yeah?" Jackson asked. "I was just headin' back to the hospital to talk to that kid again. What's the word?"
"We got the prints back on that gun," Donny told him.
"Yeah? Whose are they?"
"Well, that's the problem," Donny said, "they're the exact match of Trey Lansing."
"Trey Lansing?" Jackson asked. "Funny, I thought he was dead."
"Yeah, weird, isn't it?" Donny asked. "Thought his house burned up with him in it. Didn't you cover his funeral?"
"Well," Jackson said wryly, "we covered someone's funeral. Dead men don't go around shooting people."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Detective Jackson had someone with him this time, I noticed. I soon found out who it was.
"JC, this is my assistant Detective Donny Michaels," Jackson said shortly.
"Nice to meet you," I said, looking at Jackson. The man seriously needed a break.
Donny...Donny was a different story. He was the complete opposite of Detective Jackson. He was still in his twenties, and he looked remarkably like Lance only with blue eyes. His smile put me at ease. Where Mike was short tempered, Donny was patient. It made me curious.
"All right," Jackson said, "one more time, JC. You're sure there were no identifying marks?"
"It was dark," I said. I was tired of this. "I'd tell you if it was anything different, okay? Being killed by some psycho isn't on my agenda. Grey eyes, cooked nose. No blemishes on the face that I could see."
"Hey, JC! How you feeling?"
I never thought I'd like hearing Chris' voice so much as I did right then.
"Tired," I told him.
"Excuse me," Detective Jackson said testily, "we're in the middle of something, here."
"Let him in," Donny said. "He can't do any harm."
Jackson glared at Donny but didn't say anything.
"So," Chris said, acting oblivious. "You guys have names? I know your last name is Jackson, but--"
"Donny Michaels," Donny said, extending his hand. "Nice to meet you. Wish it was under better circumstances."
"Me too," Chris said. "And you?"
"Mike Jackson," Jackson said. "Can we continue, please?"
"Oh! Mike? As in Michael? The Michael Jackson? Haven't seen you in a--" Chris cut himself off at Jackson's glare. "Oookay, never mind" He looked at me. "Tough crowd," he said, and whistled.
I grinned at him. "You--"
Jackson cut me off. "I don't know about you, Donny, but I could've sworn I heard you, JC, say something about not wanting to be killed? I kind of need your cooperation, here."
"I'm tired," I said stubbornly. "I don't want to do this anymore. I've told you everything I know. You don't seem to get that. I'm like wasting words, here. I'm tired. I've told you eveerything I know."
"Look," Donny said, "How about we let you sleep now, and come back later? We still need to talk to you."
"Donny," Jackson glowered.
"Mike, he needs a break," Donny said. "We don't wanna zap him."
"Okay," I said, "thanks, Donny."
Donny smiled. "No problem."
"He has an eerie smile," Chris said.
I looked at him. "Who, Donny?" Chris shrugged. "It's okay," I said.
