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Adjusting	By : Bia Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Eminem/Marshall Mathers Views: 7351 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know Eminem (Marshall Mathers). I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 14
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For the first time in three days, Marshall was headed up the stairs empty handed. This morning he was determined to drag the kid back into reality. He'd left Chasez alone long enough. Tried to give him time to adjust to things. But the kid really didn't need to lock himself away brooding. It wasn't healthy. He was worried about him wasting away; every tray he took up there was half full when he brought it back down. Chasez needed to face this shit and move on.

He knocked his customary knock, before opening the door. Sighing when he saw the familiar lump. The kid rarely spoke but he knew he had to trust him a little, even if it was unconsciously. 'Cause the bedroom door was never locked.

"Hey, kid. I hate to tell you but room service is going on strike," said Marshall, leaning in the doorway. Not moving any closer, introducing a new dynamic was going to be stressful enough for the kid. He didn't need him freaking out over being crowded.

JC shifted beneath the blankets, wondering what that meant. He knew in an abstract way that Em had been bringing him food. Though now that he thought about it he couldn't quite remember how long he'd been sleeping.

"Kid you need to get up," insisted Marshall, quietly. "You can't keep hiding. It's time to start dealing. You can't sleep forever." He watched the restless movement, and knew the kid was hearing him.

JC considered going back to sleep. Just letting the darkness pull him back under. He didn't like what Em was saying. Why should he have to deal? What good would it do? Only drive him further into insanity. No. This was so much better. Unfortunately, he made the mistake of saying so.

Oh, that wasn't even happening, thought Em/ He was not about to let the kid lie here and waste away over goddamn Timberfuck.

"Okay, that's it," snapped Em. "This is what I get for trying to be Mr. Friendly." Straightening, he stalked over to the bed. Taking a hold of the edge of the blankets he yanked.

JC gasped in shock, and fear as his haven was suddenly ripped from him. He looked into icy blue eyes.

Em stared down at the kid. "Get your ass the fuck up. Take a shower. 'Cause damn you’re foul. Then bring your ass downstairs." With that said he dropped the covers, and headed back to the door.

JC snatched at the abandoned blankets, yanking them back over his head. Fighting the hysteria that had risen in waves as he'd faced the angry rapper. He wasn't moving. And the minute Em left he was locking the door.

Em paused half in, half out the door as if he'd sensed what the younger man had thought. "You've got an hour. Any longer and I'll come get your ass. You won't like it if I have to," he hissed, slamming the door.

Full-fledged terror kicked in, as JC struggled to breathe. He lay there barely breathing, too scared to move for several minutes before rational thought managed to break through. Em was not going to hurt him, but he had no doubt Em would do just as he said. JC didn't want that.

Reluctance screaming in every movement, he stood staggering to the bathroom. After fiddling with the shower for a second, he climbed beneath the wet heat. Letting the water wash away the sleep, and cobwebs from his brain. As higher reasoning returned, two thoughts fought for prominence in his head. They boiled down to how and why.

How had he gotten here? He remembered what Em had said, but surely it couldn't be that simple. How long had he been here? How long had he been lost in himself? Still, as pressing as those questions are, he thinks the why might beat them out by a tiny margin. Why was Eminem helping him? Why had this man gone out of his way for a stranger? This was nothing like the man portrayed in the media.

JC let the water clean him, as he pondered over the few clear spots in his memory. Em leaving water and pain pills for him. Em giving him a bucket to hurl in. Half-eaten trays of food. Marshall Mathers had spent the last however many days taking care of his out of it ass. Why?

"Why?"

Marshall glanced away from Hailie at the soft question. Chasez hovered in the den doorway. Dark hair slicked back, the dark stubble heavy on his face. Despite the three days of rest, eyes dark with violet shadows. "Why what?" he asked being deliberately obtuse.

JC shifted self-consciously, uncomfortable. He'd not been able to find his pants. He'd dug through the dresser until he'd found a pair of sweats in his size. He'd realized as he'd pulled them on, all of the clothes were in his size. Their presence just emphasized the amount of time that had to have passed, and just how out of it he'd been. "Why help me? Everyone knows you're a violent homophobe."

The blue eyes narrowed. "Is this the same everyone who knows you're the happy little heterosexual boy-bander with the perfect life?"

JC dropped his head, looking away in shame. His hands were tucked beneath his shoulders. Though in his more rational moments he was certain Em wasn't going to hurt him. He'd had more than ample opportunity to do so. But had offered nothing but kindness. Not exactly the most sensitive, and definitely colorful but essential sincere. No. This was obviously not the man the media made him out to be. He had no idea why he'd said that.

"They don't know me. Just like they don't know you," said Marshall, glancing back out the sliding doors to where Hailie raced around the backyard. "Everyone knows shit."

They were silent for a long moment, as both men gathered their thoughts.

"I'm sorry. You're right. That still doesn't answer the question of why."

Marshall groaned. He knew no matter how this came out it was going to upset the kid. "Your memory still shot?"

JC nodded, inching further into the room. He perched hesitantly on he back of the couch.

Marshall pinched the bridge of his nose. He turned away, knowing it'd be easier for Chasez if he couldn't see him. "Justin. You told me in so many words that'd he'd done something. Something, I couldn't just leave you to. Not knowing what I knew." He could feel the midnight blue gaze burning into his back. Almost heard the kid weighing his words. He waited for Chasez's reaction.

JC wished desperately for the earth to open up and swallow him. Wanting, yet not wanting to know exactly what he'd said. It had to be bad, if he was so pathetic, Eminem felt the need to rescue him. His life was a sad joke. He felt the insane urge to giggle. Somehow he managed to stifle it. Instead turning his attention to other things, "How long have I been here?"

"Three days," answered Marshall, letting the not so subtle subject change slide. He waited for the outburst.

"Three days," yelped JC, looking frantically for a cell he no longer had. "The guys! They've got to be freaked. I've gotta call."

"You all ready did." Marshall turned back to JC.

JC paused in his frantic search for a phone. "I did?"

"Yeah. Lancey-Poofu," snickered Marshall. He couldn't help ribbing him, just a little.

JC flushed at what he'd let slip in his drunken state. "Um, would you refresh my faulty memory of the conversation?"

"You told the guy, you needed a break. You were staying with a friend for awhile."

JC relaxed at that. He didn't like to think of the guys worrying about him. He was the one who did the worrying. Yet this time, he was unsure what to do next. He had no definite plans. For once, he wanted someone else to be responsible. Too tired to even think. Honestly, he just wanted to go back to sleep. However, he had a feeling Em wasn't letting that happen. Maybe it was time to let someone help. "So, what next?"

"I set you up an appointment with my shrink," said Marshall, moving into the room.

JC watched him, out of the corner of his eye. Frowning when the words registered. "I don't need a shrink."

"No, kid. I don't need a shrink. 'Cause despite what the judge said I don't have 'issues'. Anger or otherwise. You. They're piling up like old issues of Cosmo," snapped Em.

JC began protesting. Em turned the icy gaze on him. In its depths were the thousand and one things they'd both left unsaid. JC quieted.

"She can see you about a week from now. Till then you can chill here," he said as if it were nothing.

JC was speechless. He'd never had someone look out for him like this. Usually, it was him or Chris taking care of the others. Though to be honest he'd never let the guys or his family see him vulnerable like this. But Em cut through all his defenses. Not even Chris saw him like this. Though to be fair Chris looked out for all of them. Or tried to. If he'd slid beneath Chris' radar it was as much on him as his brother. This would take some getting used to. "What now?"

"Lunch," said Marshall, standing. "And you get to meet my baby girl." Marshall pushed open the sliding door. "Hailie, honey. Lunchtime." The blonde girl launched herself off the monkey bars, and he held his breath until she landed cat-like on both feet.

Hailie came through the doors in a burst of flying blonde curls, and tiny limbs. She skidded to a halt as she caught sight of JC. She smiled shyly up at the tall man.

"Honey, say hi to Mr. Chasez."

"Joshua or Josh is fine," JC said softly, staring down at the smiling girl.

Daddy was right, she thought staring up at him. He looks so sad. Without thought, she walked over to Mr. Josh and wrapped her arms around his legs. Hugging as tight as she could. Daddy said a hug always made him feel better.

JC stared down, completely flustered. Not sure what to do. He looked up to see Em glaring at him. He had the feeling that if he did anything to upset Em's baby girl, they'd never find all the pieces.

"You feel better now, Mr. Josh?" she asked, staring up at him. Her eyes as pale a blue as Em's. "Daddy says hugs make you feel better. But I think puppies work best. I think daddy should get you one since you've been really sad."

JC closed his eyes against the sudden dull ache in his chest.

Marshall moved to take Hailie, when the dark blue eyes opened and Chasez smiled down at his daughter. "I think you're right about the puppy but your hug was almost as good."

Hailie grinned back, and let got. Turning to her father, and demanding with the imperiousness of a little queen, “We want brownies for lunch. 'Cause Nicky-mama says chocolate is good for everything."

Marshall hid laughter at his daughter’s statement. Nodding with impressive seriousness. "Of course, your highness. Let us repair to the kitchen."

JC settled nervously at the island, in the middle of the huge kitchen, watching father and daughter as they went through the motions of preparing lunch. He could see how much Em doted on the girl all ready.

Marshall worked with Hailie aware of Chasez's steady gaze the entire time. It didn't take long for them to finish lunch and brownies. Thirty minutes at most. Marshall handed Hailie the bowl. She hugged it to her chest; then with a grievous sigh, moved to the kid's side. She held it out. Marshall grinned, with parental pride.

JC stared down into the serious face. "Thank you," he said, gently. He set it on the island, and then leaned down picking the girl up. He sat her beside the bowl. "Would you like to share? I'm quite certain I can't eat it all."

Hailie nodded eagerly. Between the two of them, though the majority went into Hailie, they cleaned the bowl. Normally, Marshall would have insisted she eat lunch first. But he thought just this once was okay.

Lunch was simple, soup and sandwiches. Hailie's grilled cheese cut into quarters, sat around her bowl of chicken soup.

JC stared down at the immense sub, Em had set in front of him. There was no way he was getting through half of it, let alone the whole thing. Em however had frowned when he'd tried to protest. He wasn't really hungry but he'd try.

Marshall watched the kid as he eyed the sub. He knew Chasez wouldn't be able to eat all of it. It was why he'd made it as big as he had. That way even eating only half he'd get a decent meal. "Just eat, kid," he grunted, biting into his own sandwich.

JC's brow furrowed but he dug in as well. For a while there was nothing but the sound of hunger being abated. A quarter way through his sub, JC had to admit Em made a good sandwich. He swallowed another bite, then dug into the soup. It was only Cambell's^TM, but it was hot and filling.

Marshall grinned into his own sandwich as he watched the kid practically inhale his lunch. A tiny part relieved that Chasez was actually eating. For a while there he'd thought the kid was going to waste away. "Good huh, kid?"

JC nodded then frowned. "Why do you keep calling me kid?"

Marshall paused actually having to think about it. Chasez was only four years younger. He just seemed so much younger even with what he knew. There was something young, and oddly innocent in the sad eyes. But he sure as hell wasn't saying that. "Figure it's better than the Diva, I initially called you."

JC sighed; of course it was something like that. "Do you think... Oh, I don't know you might call me by my name?"

Marshall lifted a brow. "Which one?"

JC paused, slightly stumped at the thought. He actually did have more than one. But if anyone deserved to address him outside his public persona it was Em. "Joshua or Josh, whichever. The guys call me Jayce."

"All right, Joshua," said Marshall. "You can call me, Marshall."

Hailie watched this odd conversation with a wide curious gaze. She piped up, "And you can call me Hailie."

Both adults laughed, and she rolled her eyes at them going back to her soup.

The timer dinged, and Hailie bounced in her seat. "Brownies," she crowed. Marshall moved to the stove, and JC finished the first half of his sandwich as he pulled the tray out.

JC pushed quietly back from the table while Em's back was turned. Intent on slipping away. His head whipped around and JC was pinned by the crystal gaze. The man must have ears like a bat or some type of sixth sense, thought JC.

"Un-uh, Joshua. I didn't drag your," he paused, eyes darting to Hailie whose gaze was fixed on the brownie pan. "Behind out of that room, so you could go right back into hiding. You can brood just as well down here."

Marshall set the pan, down and began slicing into it. "You don't have to hangout with Hail and me but you're not holing up anywhere. There are several televisions around here, a gym downstairs, and a banging stereo system in the living room." He opened the fridge, grabbed a cartoon of ice cream and dropped a scoop onto each bowl.

"Take your pick and welcome back to the land of the living."

JC thought briefly of dismissing him, and going back up stairs; but realized Em was right. If he went back to that room, he'd slip back into the haze. He could feel it calling to him even now. He waited silently as Marshall handed Hailie her bowl, then headed toward the den. He followed behind the pair.

Picking the armchair off in the furthest corner of the room, he settled down. Pulling his feet beneath him, he glanced up to see Em watching him from the couch. Hailie tucked into his side. The blond shot him an unreadable look, before turning on the television.

The day passed quietly, as he dozed in the chair. Around dinnertime, Marshall ordered a pizza. Which was devoured while watching old reruns of 'The Fresh Prince'.

Somewhere along the way JC acquired a copy of 'The Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy', and the evening passed in a companionable silence. Shortly after eleven Marshall stood, and JC's gaze snapped to him. Hailie was curled up in his arms. "Night, Joshua. See you at breakfast."

JC sighed, but nodded. He understood the order implicit in the easy words. Marshall wasn't letting him hide any longer.
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