// sweetness follows //

The bus is travelling on a road beside a river. Chris has no idea what river it is, or even what state he's in. He just knows it's a river, and that's about it. Once, a long time ago, he used to mark off the states as the bus travelled though them, pushing little coloured pins into a map that hung above his bunk. It gave him a sense of place, grounded him. Made him feel like he was solid.

A little blue pin to show I'm really here, and a green one to mark where I've been.

Now, years later, he's travelled through all these places countless times before, and there's already a pinprick to show where he's been. He finds there's no room for another pin to be put in place, not exactly, and so the pinpricks get less accurate each time, until they're not where they're supposed to be at all. And now the map is no longer there, because all the little holes weakened it so much it finally tore into jagged pieces and fluttered to the floor.

He thinks maybe you can go back to a place only so many times before eventually, that place ceases to exist.

***

Lance sometimes has nightmares. He'll sit bolt upright in his bunk with a wrenching cry, wide-eyed, heart pounding and long fingers clutching at his sheets, desperately reaching out for something that is never there. Every time it happens he feels as if his heart will burst though his chest, and it's not until Joey appears at his side, face crinkled with sleep and concern, that he remembers to take a breath.

Joey always asks what he was dreaming about, but Lance can never answer, because he doesn't know. He tells Joey he'll be ok, to go back to sleep, but the slight tremor in his voice tells Joey otherwise. So the two of them stumble through the darkened bus and onto the couch, and Joey wraps a blanket and then himself around Lance's still trembling limbs and tells him funny little stories in soft, low murmurs until Lance's slow and regular breathing lets him know he's asleep. He twines gentle fingers through Lance's soft hair, and stares, unblinking, out at the star-studded night skies as the bus travels on through the darkest hours.

If I hold him and keep him safe then maybe he'll never have to wake up screaming again.

And on these nights when Lance wakes up with a scream, it's always Joey who can't get back to sleep.

***

JC never has trouble sleeping. JC has trouble staying awake. His world is like a waking dream, and he moves through it like a shadow. The other four touch JC a lot- Chris will sling an arm around his shoulders and pull him close, while Justin often curls up in JC's lap and leans back into the slope of his chest, a soft smile on his lips at the contact. Joey will physically pick JC up and sling him over his shoulders, laughing at his mock protestations. And then there's Lance, who will sit and watch JC, before reaching out and giving his shoulders a gentle squeeze as he passes by and says goodnight.

JC is their touchstone.

It's as if they need to touch him constantly to reassure themselves that he does exist, that he's really there...not just a dreamshadow with rainbow colours and sharp angles. And though he can't put it into words, JC finds himself craving their touch as much as they feel the need to touch him.

Because it's only when they touch him that he truly feels alive.

***

He's spent so much of his life on the bus, that even when Justin is on solid ground, it feels like it's moving beneath his feet. He doesn't question it, because that's just the way it is, the way it's always been. Just like he never hears the low rumble from the constant motion of the wheels over endless highways until it's suddenly not there and he can't sleep without it. Sometimes after long weeks when the bus is cramped and constantly filled with a hum of activity, he's grumpy and irritable and longs for the solitude of a spacious hotel room. Yet that very same spacious hotel room soon feels more like a prison than the bus ever has. It's then Justin makes his way to JC's or Chris' room, seeking out the warmth and comfort of another body without even really knowing why.

He's never been alone for long. He's always been surrounded by family, friends, and colleagues, and then constantly by his four best friends. He knows people don't believe any of them when they say they all need to be around each other to feel complete, but he knows it's true. They all do. He also knows that one day he's going to have to learn to be alone, and that thought terrifies him so much he tries not to think about it.

And some days he almost succeeds.

***

And the bus travels on, alongside rivers, following winding roads that stretch on for miles and miles through dark starry nights, and into long days where the sun never makes it through the clouds.

Sometimes on that bus, Lance will wake with a scream, only to be soothed back to sleep by Joey. And sometimes on that bus Chris will imagine himself as a pinprick on a map, a point of reference for when he passes by the same place again and again. On that bus, JC will doze with his arms tightly wrapped round himself, needing to be touched even in his slumber, alone until Justin can't stand the solitude of his bunk any longer and crawls in beside him, replacing JC's arms with his own.

The bus travels on.

***

It's these little things, they can pull you under
Live your life filled with joy and wonder
I always knew this altogether thunder was lost in our little lives

Oh, oh, but sweetness follows

- REM: Sweetness Follows

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