Chapter 2

Lance jolted in his sleep, like one does in a dream, his limbs jumping slightly. The small movement woke him from his sleep. The first thing he noticed was the brightness of the room. It was morning already, when he felt as if it should still be early into the night. The second thing he noticed was his inability to move. Either from exhausted muscles or the intense pain caused by even trying, Lance wasn't sure. What he was sure of, was that he hurt, and he seriously had to relieve himself, but couldn't get out of bed.

'Oh great. I'm in pain. My head is about to explode, and I have to pee REALLY bad. Great way to start a day.' Lance though, groaning at the thought of actually peeing in his bed, as long as he got to relieve himself.

"Hey, someone come in here! Please!" Lance called, his voice gravelly from sleep and medication. He was rewarded for his efforts minutes later, when Chris stuck his head in the door.

"You can either help me now, or help me change the bed sheets later. Take your pick, cause I sure as hell can't move on my own." Lance said, his position making him cranky. He didn't like the fact that he needed help to go to the bathroom.

"Hmmm…call of nature, huh? Let's get you up." Chris said, walking over to the bed where his very tired and very sore looking friend lay. Kneeling on the bed, Chris slid his arm under Lance and helped him to sit up. He could see the amount of pain that simple act caused his friend. "I'm sorry, Lance. If there was an easier, less painful way to do this, believe me I would." Chris said, feeling bad that he was causing his friend pain.

"I know Chris. It's not your fault. Don't worry about it." Lance said, groaning through the pain shooting through his back and every limb of his body.

Chris helped Lance to stand as gingerly as possible, allowing his friend to lean on his for support on the way to the bathroom. Once there, with profuse assurance from a blushing Lance that he would be fine alone, Chris closed the door, leaving a small crack so he could hear Lance if he needed help.

"Yea, buddy." Chris called back from his position on the bed, where he was looking through some of Lance's FreeLance contracts.

"Could you grab some clothes for me. I want to take a shower. I feel nasty." Lance said, the embarrassment at his situation evident in his voice.

"Sure, little buddy. Just a second." Chris responded, walking around the room in search of Lance's suitcase. He came up empty. "Lance, where did you put your suitcase?" Chris called back to his ailing friend.

"Should be right there by the desk. That's where I put it when we came in yesterday morning." Lance said, emerging at the bathroom door, slightly out of breath and sweating from the exertion of his movements.

"It's not in here. Come on, go ahead and get in the shower. I'll get you something of Justin's to wear til we figure out where your suitcase walked off to." Chris said, leading Lance back to the bathroom, and turning on the shower for him.

Several minutes later, after Lance was feeling much cleaner, but sorer from movement, he decided enough was enough. Chris had come in moments after he had started his shower, placing Justin's clothes on the counter for the younger man. Lance was grateful, but puzzled as to where his suitcase could have gotten to.

Gingerly, Lance changed in the too large clothes, and supporting himself on the counter and door, made his way out of the bathroom. He could tell the others were up by now, hearing the t.v. and voices in the main room of their suite.

Lance, being the stubborn person he is, refused to call anyone back in to help him out of his room. Slowly, he shuffled across the room, wincing at the pain it caused. He was close to the hotel's dresser, when he lost his balance, his feet getting caught on the carpet. Acting on instinct, Lance reached out to grab on to anything that would break his fall. His hand connected with the dresser, the fall straining his already injured and sore muscles in his back.

Lance shut his eyes against the blinding pain, a yelp of pain escaping his lips before he could stop it. As he went to his knees with the pain and inability to hold himself up, Lance was acutely aware of the sweat beading on his forehead. He knew the others had heard him. He could hear the steps quickly approaching his door.

"Oh God. Lance, are you alright?" Joey asked, frightened at the sight of the younger man, kneeling on the floor, the pain visible on his face.

Lance bit back another cry of pain as Joey's comforting hand gently touched his bruised back in a comforting manner.

Joey could see the tears of pain trying to make their way out of the tightly closed eyes of his friend, his heart hurting for his friend.

"Couch." Lance croaked, trying to find his voice through the pain still consuming his body, but was lessening with the passing minutes.

"Well, at least you have your sense of humor." Justin joked, Kneeling down to put one of Lance's arms around his shoulder, while Joey did the same on the other side. As they began to stand, Lance felt nauseous from the pain, his vision blurred with tears.

"It's alright Justin. It not either of you guys' fault. It's gonna hurt either way." Lance said, breathing through the pain, albeit shallow breaths. He made sure to include Joey in his assurances, knowing the older man felt somewhat responsible for his current condition. But Lance knew it wasn't Joey's fault. It was an accident plain and simple. Joey had done the best he could, and for that Lance would always be thankful.

After several pain-filled minutes, wincing on all three parts, one in pain, and two in sympathy, the trio made it to the couch. Lance sighed in relief when he was laid on the couch, his eyes clothes and the pain easing.

"What were you trying to do in there?" Justin asked. Lance opened his eyes to see Justin standing over him, pills in one hand and a glass of water in the other.

"Well, next time, don't be stubborn. Ask for help." Justin said, reminding Lance of a mother hen. Lance chuckled at the thought.

"They went down stairs looking for your suitcase. Chris was looking everywhere for it when we all got up, but we can't find it. Did you leave it on the bus yesterday?" Joey asked, knowing the answer but asking anyway.

"If I had left it on the bus yesterday, how would I have changed before sound check? I put it in my room, right by my desk. Like I always do. At least I think I did." Lance said, scrunching up his face in concentration.

"I know you did. I was talking to you about our schedule when we came in. I was in your room with you when you were going through it, looking for the agenda for the week." Justin said, a confused look on his face. "Wonder where it's gotten to."

"I don't know, Curly. Right now, I really don't care. I'm tired. I'm sore. I'll buy myself a whole new wardrobe later if we can't find it. But thanks for lending me your clothes." Lance said, attempting a smile as his eyes began to droop.

"Don't worry about it man. Just go to sleep. We'll wake you up for lunch." Justin said, placing a gentle, friendly hand on Lance's forehead as he drifted off to sleep.

"Well, I for one, still want to know what happened to his stuff. That's just plain weird." Joey said, moving to the kitchenette.


	Inner Reflection \| home back to Help is on the Way Chapter 2 Lance jolted in his sleep, like one does in a dream, his limbs jumping slightly. The small movement woke him from his sleep. The first thing he noticed was the brightness of the room. It was morning already, when he felt as if it should still be early into the night. The second thing he noticed was his inability to move. Either from exhausted muscles or the intense pain caused by even trying, Lance wasn't sure. What he was sure of, was that he hurt, and he seriously had to relieve himself, but couldn't get out of bed. 'Oh great. I'm in pain. My head is about to explode, and I have to pee REALLY bad. Great way to start a day.' Lance though, groaning at the thought of actually peeing in his bed, as long as he got to relieve himself. Then he heard movement in the room beyond his door. "Hey, someone come in here! Please!" Lance called, his voice gravelly from sleep and medication. He was rewarded for his efforts minutes later, when Chris stuck his head in the door. "Can I help you, Sir?" Chris asked in a fake, and really BAD French accent. "You can either help me now, or help me change the bed sheets later. Take your pick, cause I sure as hell can't move on my own." Lance said, his position making him cranky. He didn't like the fact that he needed help to go to the bathroom. "Hmmm…call of nature, huh? Let's get you up." Chris said, walking over to the bed where his very tired and very sore looking friend lay. Kneeling on the bed, Chris slid his arm under Lance and helped him to sit up. He could see the amount of pain that simple act caused his friend. "I'm sorry, Lance. If there was an easier, less painful way to do this, believe me I would." Chris said, feeling bad that he was causing his friend pain. "I know Chris. It's not your fault. Don't worry about it." Lance said, groaning through the pain shooting through his back and every limb of his body. Chris helped Lance to stand as gingerly as possible, allowing his friend to lean on his for support on the way to the bathroom. Once there, with profuse assurance from a blushing Lance that he would be fine alone, Chris closed the door, leaving a small crack so he could hear Lance if he needed help. "Um…Chris?" Lance asked a few minutes later, still in the bathroom. "Yea, buddy." Chris called back from his position on the bed, where he was looking through some of Lance's FreeLance contracts. "Could you grab some clothes for me. I want to take a shower. I feel nasty." Lance said, the embarrassment at his situation evident in his voice. "Sure, little buddy. Just a second." Chris responded, walking around the room in search of Lance's suitcase. He came up empty. "Lance, where did you put your suitcase?" Chris called back to his ailing friend. "Should be right there by the desk. That's where I put it when we came in yesterday morning." Lance said, emerging at the bathroom door, slightly out of breath and sweating from the exertion of his movements. "It's not in here. Come on, go ahead and get in the shower. I'll get you something of Justin's to wear til we figure out where your suitcase walked off to." Chris said, leading Lance back to the bathroom, and turning on the shower for him. Several minutes later, after Lance was feeling much cleaner, but sorer from movement, he decided enough was enough. Chris had come in moments after he had started his shower, placing Justin's clothes on the counter for the younger man. Lance was grateful, but puzzled as to where his suitcase could have gotten to. Gingerly, Lance changed in the too large clothes, and supporting himself on the counter and door, made his way out of the bathroom. He could tell the others were up by now, hearing the t.v. and voices in the main room of their suite. Lance, being the stubborn person he is, refused to call anyone back in to help him out of his room. Slowly, he shuffled across the room, wincing at the pain it caused. He was close to the hotel's dresser, when he lost his balance, his feet getting caught on the carpet. Acting on instinct, Lance reached out to grab on to anything that would break his fall. His hand connected with the dresser, the fall straining his already injured and sore muscles in his back. Lance shut his eyes against the blinding pain, a yelp of pain escaping his lips before he could stop it. As he went to his knees with the pain and inability to hold himself up, Lance was acutely aware of the sweat beading on his forehead. He knew the others had heard him. He could hear the steps quickly approaching his door. "Oh God. Lance, are you alright?" Joey asked, frightened at the sight of the younger man, kneeling on the floor, the pain visible on his face. Lance bit back another cry of pain as Joey's comforting hand gently touched his bruised back in a comforting manner. Joey could see the tears of pain trying to make their way out of the tightly closed eyes of his friend, his heart hurting for his friend. "Come on. Lets get you off the floor. Couch or bed?" Joey asked, his concern evident in his voice. "Couch." Lance croaked, trying to find his voice through the pain still consuming his body, but was lessening with the passing minutes. "Is he ok, Joey?" Justin asked from the door way, moving into the room to help Lance stand. "He hurts. I know that much." Joey said, still looking at the smaller blonde. "Correction Joey. I hurt like hell." Lance said, through gritted teeth. "Well, at least you have your sense of humor." Justin joked, Kneeling down to put one of Lance's arms around his shoulder, while Joey did the same on the other side. As they began to stand, Lance felt nauseous from the pain, his vision blurred with tears. "Ah! Oh God!" Lance exclaimed as they straightened, his muscles screaming in protest. "Lance I'm so sorry." Justin said, when they had him standing straight. "It's alright Justin. It not either of you guys' fault. It's gonna hurt either way." Lance said, breathing through the pain, albeit shallow breaths. He made sure to include Joey in his assurances, knowing the older man felt somewhat responsible for his current condition. But Lance knew it wasn't Joey's fault. It was an accident plain and simple. Joey had done the best he could, and for that Lance would always be thankful. After several pain-filled minutes, wincing on all three parts, one in pain, and two in sympathy, the trio made it to the couch. Lance sighed in relief when he was laid on the couch, his eyes clothes and the pain easing. "What were you trying to do in there?" Justin asked. Lance opened his eyes to see Justin standing over him, pills in one hand and a glass of water in the other. "I was trying to get in here." Lance said, wincing slightly as he moved to a better position. "Well, next time, don't be stubborn. Ask for help." Justin said, reminding Lance of a mother hen. Lance chuckled at the thought. "Where's Chris and JC?" Lance said, effectively changing the subject. "They went down stairs looking for your suitcase. Chris was looking everywhere for it when we all got up, but we can't find it. Did you leave it on the bus yesterday?" Joey asked, knowing the answer but asking anyway. "If I had left it on the bus yesterday, how would I have changed before sound check? I put it in my room, right by my desk. Like I always do. At least I think I did." Lance said, scrunching up his face in concentration. "I know you did. I was talking to you about our schedule when we came in. I was in your room with you when you were going through it, looking for the agenda for the week." Justin said, a confused look on his face. "Wonder where it's gotten to." "I don't know, Curly. Right now, I really don't care. I'm tired. I'm sore. I'll buy myself a whole new wardrobe later if we can't find it. But thanks for lending me your clothes." Lance said, attempting a smile as his eyes began to droop. "Don't worry about it man. Just go to sleep. We'll wake you up for lunch." Justin said, placing a gentle, friendly hand on Lance's forehead as he drifted off to sleep. "Well, I for one, still want to know what happened to his stuff. That's just plain weird." Joey said, moving to the kitchenette. "Yes, it is." Justin agreed. ~*~