Part 13

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Part 13

~Please wake up, I feel so alone and I feel so scared that you're going away~

JC woke up early the morning of the surgery. He hadn't intended to, but something forced him out of his slumber. Alarmed, he looked down at Lance. He seemed fine. He was lying on his side, curled up next to JC. His breathing was deep and even. JC exhaled in relief. He concentrated on the movement of Lance's chest. He felt the urge to reach out and touch the smooth, pale skin. His gaze traveled up, lingering on Lance's neck. It was long and graceful, marred slightly by the largish Adam's apple. Lance was embarrassed by it. JC, however, liked to lick it. He smiled, thinking of the way that always made Lance giggle.

His eyes continued upward, finally resting on the beloved face. His lips were full, so soft and perfect. Sometimes, when Lance was talking, JC would find himself staring at that mouth, watching as Lance worried his bottom lip with his teeth, thinking of all the things that mouth was capable of. His nose. JC had never really thought about it. It was nice, he supposed. It wasn't large, so it was probably better than his was own was. It was hard to wax poetical about a nose, JC thought, with a smile. Lance's eyes, on the other hand, were a whole different story. It wasn't just the total, otherworldly beauty, but also the kindness and intelligence in those eyes. They had inspired JC to write songs so mushy that he had never shown them to anyone, even Lance. He couldn't see them now, of course, Lance was still asleep. It seemed that the lines of worry that had infiltrated Lance's face the past few days were smoothed in sleep. The dark circles under his eyes seemed less prominent.

Maybe this was why he had woke up early. Looking at Lance now, you

would never guess that he was sick. It was easy, in the early morning gloom, to retend that everything was all right. That there had been no memory loss, no seizure, no tumor. Hell, as long as he was pretending, why not pretend that their parents had not rejected them; that they could be open about their relationship, without fearing public reaction; that they could marry, have children that somehow had Lance's eyes and his hair, live happily ever after?

He was startled out of his musings by the alarm clock. He turned to shut it off. When he turned back, Lance was looking at him.

"Hey," Lance said, "how long have you been awake?"

JC leaned over and kissed him, softly. "Couple of minutes. How do you feel?"

"OK. So, this is it, huh?"

JC nodded.

Lance sighed. "Well," he said, with false cheerfulness, as he climbed out of bed, "I guess we better get ready, then."

"Yeah," JC agreed. "Let's get going."

***

"I'm tired," Lance said. "And hungry."

JC smiled. Lance was not allowed anything to eat or drink before the surgery. He had not had anything since midnight. He probably would have killed for a cappuccino. Out of sympathy, JC had not eaten. But he was living on coffee.

The surgery wasn't scheduled for another hour. They had given Lance paperwork to sign, and drawn blood for tests. JC had looked away, not wanting to see the needles pierce Lance's skin. Now they were simply sitting in a room near the hospital's neuro ward, waiting. Because of the need for privacy, they had made arrangements with the hospital for this room to be used as a private waiting room for JC, and anyone else who would be waiting during the surgery. JC was very grateful for the hospital's generosity.

At around 11:00, a nurse came in, holding Lance's chart. "Ok, Mr. Bass?" Lance nodded. "Craniotomy at 11:30." She handed Lance a blue hospital gown. "Take everything off, and I mean everything, including jewelry, and put this on," she said, before leaving again.

"Wow," Lance said, "she's a pleasant one."

"At least she didn't stay to see you get undressed."

Lance smiled. "How the heck do you get this on?" he said, looking at the gown.

"Here, let me see. Get undressed first." JC took the gown, trying to decipher the buttons and armholes.

Lance stripped down to his boxers, and JC helped him into the gown, snapping it down the back. Then Lance slipped out of his shorts, adding them to the bag holding his clothing. He then reached around his neck and undid the clasp that held his cross. Taking it off, he handed it to JC, who slipped into his pocket. He then, reluctantly pulled the ring from his left hand. He had not taken the ring off since JC had given it to him last Christmas. Caressing the silver, briefly, he pressed it into JC's hand.

"Keep it for me," he said, softly.

JC took the ring and put it on his left hand, nestled against his own ring. Lance looked at him, his eyes filling with tears. "Josh, I have to tell you, just in case..."

"No," JC cut him off with a finger to his lips. "Not just in case, Lance. No just in cases."

Lance bit his lip, struggling to stay composed. He brought JC's hand away from his face, capturing its mate as well. "Josh," he started again, "I can't go in there without telling you that you are the only person that I have ever loved. You made my life complete. Thank you so much for that. You're the first and the last. There'll never be anyone else." A tear slid down his face. "I love you so much."

JC blinked against the tears that formed in his eyes. "Lance," he said, "you are the best thing that ever happened to me. Everything else is secondary. I'll love you for the rest of my life, no matter what happens." He drew Lance into his arms, holding him, as silent tears slid down both of their faces.

They were interrupted by a soft knock. A man with a wheeled stretcher stood there. "Mr. Bass? It's time."

"Yeah, ok," Lance said, letting the man help him onto the stretcher. The man wheeled him towards the elevator, with JC walking beside. At the elevator, JC stopped. He leaned down and kissed Lance softly, uncaring of who saw. "I love you, baby," he said, stroking Lance's cheek. "I'll be right here when you get out."

"I love you too. See you soon." He smiled bravely, as the elevator opened, and the man pushed him inside. JC stood and watched as the door closed. He did not move for several minutes.


	Inner Reflection \| home back to But Faith Part 13 ~Please wake up, I feel so alone and I feel so scared that you're going away~ JC woke up early the morning of the surgery. He hadn't intended to, but something forced him out of his slumber. Alarmed, he looked down at Lance. He seemed fine. He was lying on his side, curled up next to JC. His breathing was deep and even. JC exhaled in relief. He concentrated on the movement of Lance's chest. He felt the urge to reach out and touch the smooth, pale skin. His gaze traveled up, lingering on Lance's neck. It was long and graceful, marred slightly by the largish Adam's apple. Lance was embarrassed by it. JC, however, liked to lick it. He smiled, thinking of the way that always made Lance giggle. His eyes continued upward, finally resting on the beloved face. His lips were full, so soft and perfect. Sometimes, when Lance was talking, JC would find himself staring at that mouth, watching as Lance worried his bottom lip with his teeth, thinking of all the things that mouth was capable of. His nose. JC had never really thought about it. It was nice, he supposed. It wasn't large, so it was probably better than his was own was. It was hard to wax poetical about a nose, JC thought, with a smile. Lance's eyes, on the other hand, were a whole different story. It wasn't just the total, otherworldly beauty, but also the kindness and intelligence in those eyes. They had inspired JC to write songs so mushy that he had never shown them to anyone, even Lance. He couldn't see them now, of course, Lance was still asleep. It seemed that the lines of worry that had infiltrated Lance's face the past few days were smoothed in sleep. The dark circles under his eyes seemed less prominent. Maybe this was why he had woke up early. Looking at Lance now, you would never guess that he was sick. It was easy, in the early morning gloom, to retend that everything was all right. That there had been no memory loss, no seizure, no tumor. Hell, as long as he was pretending, why not pretend that their parents had not rejected them; that they could be open about their relationship, without fearing public reaction; that they could marry, have children that somehow had Lance's eyes and his hair, live happily ever after? He was startled out of his musings by the alarm clock. He turned to shut it off. When he turned back, Lance was looking at him. "Hey," Lance said, "how long have you been awake?" JC leaned over and kissed him, softly. "Couple of minutes. How do you feel?" "OK. So, this is it, huh?" JC nodded. Lance sighed. "Well," he said, with false cheerfulness, as he climbed out of bed, "I guess we better get ready, then." "Yeah," JC agreed. "Let's get going." *** "I'm tired," Lance said. "And hungry." JC smiled. Lance was not allowed anything to eat or drink before the surgery. He had not had anything since midnight. He probably would have killed for a cappuccino. Out of sympathy, JC had not eaten. But he was living on coffee. The surgery wasn't scheduled for another hour. They had given Lance paperwork to sign, and drawn blood for tests. JC had looked away, not wanting to see the needles pierce Lance's skin. Now they were simply sitting in a room near the hospital's neuro ward, waiting. Because of the need for privacy, they had made arrangements with the hospital for this room to be used as a private waiting room for JC, and anyone else who would be waiting during the surgery. JC was very grateful for the hospital's generosity. At around 11:00, a nurse came in, holding Lance's chart. "Ok, Mr. Bass?" Lance nodded. "Craniotomy at 11:30." She handed Lance a blue hospital gown. "Take everything off, and I mean everything, including jewelry, and put this on," she said, before leaving again. "Wow," Lance said, "she's a pleasant one." "At least she didn't stay to see you get undressed." Lance smiled. "How the heck do you get this on?" he said, looking at the gown. "Here, let me see. Get undressed first." JC took the gown, trying to decipher the buttons and armholes. Lance stripped down to his boxers, and JC helped him into the gown, snapping it down the back. Then Lance slipped out of his shorts, adding them to the bag holding his clothing. He then reached around his neck and undid the clasp that held his cross. Taking it off, he handed it to JC, who slipped into his pocket. He then, reluctantly pulled the ring from his left hand. He had not taken the ring off since JC had given it to him last Christmas. Caressing the silver, briefly, he pressed it into JC's hand. "Keep it for me," he said, softly. JC took the ring and put it on his left hand, nestled against his own ring. Lance looked at him, his eyes filling with tears. "Josh, I have to tell you, just in case..." "No," JC cut him off with a finger to his lips. "Not just in case, Lance. No just in cases." Lance bit his lip, struggling to stay composed. He brought JC's hand away from his face, capturing its mate as well. "Josh," he started again, "I can't go in there without telling you that you are the only person that I have ever loved. You made my life complete. Thank you so much for that. You're the first and the last. There'll never be anyone else." A tear slid down his face. "I love you so much." JC blinked against the tears that formed in his eyes. "Lance," he said, "you are the best thing that ever happened to me. Everything else is secondary. I'll love you for the rest of my life, no matter what happens." He drew Lance into his arms, holding him, as silent tears slid down both of their faces. They were interrupted by a soft knock. A man with a wheeled stretcher stood there. "Mr. Bass? It's time." "Yeah, ok," Lance said, letting the man help him onto the stretcher. The man wheeled him towards the elevator, with JC walking beside. At the elevator, JC stopped. He leaned down and kissed Lance softly, uncaring of who saw. "I love you, baby," he said, stroking Lance's cheek. "I'll be right here when you get out." "I love you too. See you soon." He smiled bravely, as the elevator opened, and the man pushed him inside. JC stood and watched as the door closed. He did not move for several minutes.