Without a second thought, JC pushed past Joey and raced downstairs. He dropped to his knees and put his head against Chris� chest, hearing for a heartbeat. His breath caught when he heard a faint but steady thump thump. He let out a breath that he didn�t know he had been holding and looked up at the others still standing at the top of the stairs.
�Justin, get down here and go call 911!� he called.
Justin clambered down the stairs and dropped to his knees, near hysterics. �Chris is dead. He�s dead!�
�Justin�Just�.shut up!� shouted JC over Justin�s sobbing. Justin looked at JC through clear, crystalline blue eyes and sniffled. �Chris isn�t dead, he�s just unconscious.�
�He�s alive,� Justin croaked.
JC nodded. �Justin, I need you to go into the kitchen and call 911. You need to tell them�tell them that Chris is unconscious and that something may be broken and we need an ambulance here now! Can you do that?�
Justin bit his lip and nodded before running off towards the kitchen.
JC, knowing not to move Chris in case something was damaged, just sat there, stroking Chris� forehead and coaxing him to wake up with soft murmurs. He looked up sharply when he heard Lance yell.
�You�re goin� to hell, Joseph,� yelled Lance. Joey, slumped against the wall, just hung his head in shame and slid down the wall till he sat down. Lance continued spouting off scripture about sinning and repercussions until JC yelled, �Stop this!�
JC stood up and went to the bottom of the stairs. �Stop this NOW! Chris is laying down here unconscious and tore up and all you can do is yell. Just shut up if you�re not going to help.�
The only sound, faint at first but growing steadily louder as it came closer, was the mechanical wail of the siren of an incoming ambulance.
~*~
JC paced back in forth in the small waiting room, wringing his hands. With the exception of he and his friends, the waiting room was completely empty. Lance and Joey were at opposite ends of the room while Justin sat on the edge of his seat, his chin resting on his knuckles. After what seemed like hours a doctor came through the double doors and JC made a beeline to her.
�Hello, Mr. Chasez, my name is Dr. Stevens.�
JC shook the doctor�s hand courteously before blurting out questions, �Is Chris ok? Is he awake? Did he break anything?�
�Mr. Chasez, please calm down,� replied Dr. Stevens. �Mr. Kirkpatrick is just fine.� JC let out a breath of relief. �He�s suffered a mild concussion and he sprained his ankle severely, if he had twisted any more to the left then he would have broken it.�
�But he�s all right,� questioned JC. �He can come home?�
�Yes, he can go home tonight. He�s just getting his ankle wrapped and I�ve written up a prescription for pain killers if he needs them,� she exclaimed, handing him the slip of paper. JC took it with shaky hands. �Mr. Chasez, might I ask a question?�
�Anything, what is it?�
�How�d Mr. Kirkpatrick fall down the stairs?�
�How did he fall down the stairs?� JC froze, panic consuming him. He looked over at Justin who stared back with wide eyes and then over to Joey who just stared at the floor. �He�um�well, you see. Chris sleepwalks at night. Usually someone catches him and puts him right back but I guess that didn�t happen this time.�
Dr. Stevens made a noise in the back of her throat as she looked through the folder in front of her. �It says here that the ambulance came from 112 Ocean Drive, is that correct?�
�Yes, ma�am,� replied JC, trying his best not to seem nervous. �Is there something wrong with that?�
Dr. Stevens looked at him closely for a minute before shaking her head. �No, it�s not problem. I was just curious as to why five young men such as yourselves were at such a�house.�
�We�re taking a vacation and thought we�d come to a quiet town where no one would bother us,� explained JC. Before she could ask any more questions an orderly came pushing Chris out in a wheelchair and JC rushed over, the doctors inquiries forgotten.
~*~
When they had returned back to the house, JC set Chris up in the living room so that he wouldn�t have to do the stairs with his injured ankle. Chris hadn�t said more than a sentence to any of them and was currently sprawled out on the couch, channel surfing. Justin had retired to his room, Lance went out by the docks, and JC had gone to the kitchen for a strong cup of coffee.
�Jayce,� Joey said tentatively, poking his head into the kitchen.
�Yeah, Joe.�
�Do you think, maybe, we could talk?� he asked, almost shyly. JC nodded and Joey briskly walked over to the kitchen table and sat down, ringing his hands together. He took a deep breath before saying, �I dunno where to start?�
JC set his coffee mug down and wrapped his ice cold fingers around it, savoring the warmth. �The beginning is always good. Maybe you could tell me why you tossed Chris down the stairs last night?�
Joey let out a choked sound and tightened his fingers around themselves. �JC, I swear, I didn�t mean to. You know I�d never hurt Chris. Fuck, I wouldn�t hurt any of you.� JC nodded. �I�I don�t know what�s wrong with me. One minute I�m fine and then the next minute I wanna bash someone�s head in.�
�When�d you start feelin� like this?�
Joey shrugged and let out a choked sob. He looked up at JC with tears and a frantic look in his eyes. �I don�t know what�s wrong with me. I could have killed Chris last night!�
�But you didn�t,� pointed out JC.
�But I could have!� exclaimed Joey, freely crying now. �It�s like there�s this little voice in the back of my head that keeps telling me to hurt one of you and I can�t control it. I can�t make it go away!�
JC scooted his chair closer to Joey and put his arm around him, trying his best to sooth his sobbing. Joey leaned in and freely wept. JC rubbed his back softly and let Joey cry and mumble about making it stop, all the while wondering how to make it all end and go back to normal himself.