Author: Winnie Loo
Chapter: 1/10
Fandom: The Click Five
Rating: I don't know much about this 'rating' business. PG eventually, I think. Because of angst.... and the swearing, now that I think about it.
Summary: What happens when your whole world changes because of something so small that eventually gets larger?
Author Notes: I know, I know, some of you - most of you - don't like The Click Five except you boardies out there who read my blog (if you're reading - or re-reading, I love you), but give me a chance and do read this! Constructive comments are ALWAYS appreciated. :) NO SLASH. I PROMISE.
PART ONE
It is in the middle of recording their last song for their third album when Joey feels a sharp flash of pain shooting up his spine and spreading to his shoulder blades.
"Fuck," he winces, and his drumsticks drop to the floor with a clatter.
The music gradually dies down as the rest of the band stops playing and turn to stare at the drummer, who is now doubled over, groaning.
Kyle signals to their producer who is behind the glass, and he stops the recording, forehead creased with concern.
"Zehr, is everything okay?" Kyle turns back to Joey.
"Yeah," Joey straightens up slowly and picks his drumsticks off the floor. "I'm all right."
"You sure? Do you want to rest or something? We're totally cool with it," suggests Ethan, who's already pulling his guitar strap over his head.
"No, no," Joey rubs a shoulder with a hand. "I'm all right. I should be able to last through this song. He winces again as his hand rubs a sensitive spot. "I'll just go rest when we're done."
Kyle pauses, looks at him doubtfully for a moment, and then turns back to their producer and gives him the signal again.
*
"Joey?"
"Yeah?"
Ben opens the door just wide enough to poke his head in. "You feeling all right?"
Joey is lying sideways on his bed, the sheets on a pile on the floor.
"Mmmph," Joey rolls over and sits up, wincing as he does so.
Ben walks in and closes the door. In his hands are a glass of water and two painkillers.
"Here," he hands the medicine to Joey, who pops them into his mouth and washes them down, finishing the water.
He hands the empty glass back to Ben, who turns to walk out the door, but Joey reaches out an arm and tugs at his wrist.
"Look, Ben," he tugs his plain brown T-shirt over his head and turns so that Ben is looking at his back. "Can you see them?"
Ben gasps. There are two of them. The bruises are huge, round, and red, and they are near his shoulder blades, parallel to one another. He reaches out and presses both bruises with a finger, feeling two hard bumps.
"Shit," Joey squeezes his eyes shut and swats Ben's hands away. It feels like as if Ben is stabbing him with a kitchen knife instead of merely touching him. "That hurts, dumbass."
"Sorry."
Joey doesn't sleep on his back that night.
*
The next day, somewhere around noon, Joey wakes up and wanders into the living room, shirtless.
Joe and Kyle are sitting on the slightly worn sofa, fighting over the newspaper.
Joey stands there for a moment, smiling at the two. The paper man forgot to bring two copies of the newspaper again.
"Oh my God," Ethan gasps, from somewhere behind him, and he turns his head to look at the bass player, who is staring at the bruises on his back.
Kyle and Joe rush over, newspaper completely forgotten, to see what Ethan is staring at, and both of them gasp as well.
"I've never seen anything like it before," Kyle says, looking at Ethan. Ethan agrees.
Joey starts to speak, but Ben comes up from behind him and shoves another glass of water and two more painkillers into his hands. Joey takes them wordlessly, as the rest turn to stare at Ben.
"It's like his bones are growing again." Ben tells them, folding his arms.
"I don't know what's happening to me," Joey lowers himself to the ground and buries his head in his hands.
*
A week later, the pain becomes so unbearable that Joey resorts to eating a handful of painkillers every six hours.
Even then, the things – they’ve grown too large to be called bruises any more – on his back throb, and it feels as if they are going to rip his tanned skin apart. Joey doesn't know what is happening to him. It's not like he isn't scared of what's happening, he is – in fact, he's scared to death, but he honestly does not want the guys to worry about him.
They usually tug open his door and check in on him once in a while, Ben more often than the others do, because Ben is the one who gives him his medicine and keeps track of his last intake. Kyle just wanders in and sits on his bed, just staring at him, not saying a word.
*
"That's it," Ethan says, yanking open Joey's door after listening to Joey moan pitifully in pain for three hours straight, "I'm taking you to the doctor."
"But I – " Joey starts, but he is cut off by Ethan, who opens his closet door, pulls out the first T-shirt he sees, and throws it at him.
"No buts, Joey. You need help."
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