Title: Maximum Byers 2: Long Journey Home
Author: Mice
E-mail: just_us_mice@yahoo.com
Category: LGM, Byers/Jimmy, Byers angst; post-ep: Maximum 
Byers
Rating: R for adult language, violent themes
Summary: Sequel to "Texas Death House Blues" -- Morning 
thoughts and late night driving. This story picks up the 
morning after the last scene in TDHB.
Archive: DITB, Lone Slasher, all others ask
Disclaimer: If you think they're mine, you're delusional. I 
recommend a psychiatric exam.

***
SAM HOUSTON MOTOR LODGE
HOUSTON, TX
EARLY MORNING

The slow, delicious feeling of waking in the dawn light was 
shattered in a frantic moment when Byers realized that he 
wasn't alone in bed. His body stiffened in panic but he 
suppressed the urge to struggle and strike out with the 
swift realization that the body next to him was Jimmy, and 
that he'd asked for the company. Taking a deep, quiet 
breath, he relaxed again.

The grey light touched the two mugs on the window sill in 
front of him. Last night they'd held hot cocoa, a gesture 
of comfort on Jimmy's part. The mugs seemed natural there, 
one beside the other, a dry smear of chocolate down the 
side of the one Jimmy had used. They reminded him of a 
still life painting; the perfection of muted light in the 
drizzling rain reflected his own mood with immaculate 
clarity.

Frohike snored softly across the room. 

John sighed quietly and lifted his head to look around. One 
of Mel's feet stuck out from under the covers that had been 
thrown over his head during the night. His face was 
obscured by sheets, pillow, and one hairy arm. Langly lay 
on another bed, face down on top of the covers, still 
dressed. For a moment, John worried what his friends might 
think. They'd come in after he had fallen asleep, and he 
knew they must have seen him in bed with Jimmy. Even with 
their knowledge of his feelings for Susanne, would they 
believe that something was happening here beyond his simple 
need for creature comfort?

Jimmy stirred behind him, arm tightening around his waist, 
under the loose shirt of his pajamas. Byers was warm and 
comfortable, and didn't really want to move yet, so he lay 
there listening to Frohike's snoring and the quiet sounds 
of Jimmy's breathing and the drizzle against the window.

After a while, Jimmy's fingers curled softly and gently 
along John's abdomen. The hand trailed up his chest, 
drawing him closer, ending its trip at his shoulder. John 
looked over at his companion.

"Morning," Jimmy said, his voice still a little muzzy from 
sleep.

"Morning, Jimmy," Byers whispered, not wanting to disturb 
their roommates. "How long have you been awake?"

Jimmy yawned and stretched, then pressed John close to him. 
"Not too long. How are you feeling?"

"Better," Byers said. "I really appreciate your being here 
for me. I needed that last night." He paused, forehead 
creasing. 

Jimmy ran his fingers across the lines in John's face, 
brushing the dark, errant bangs out of his friend's eyes. 
"Is something wrong?"

Byers looked out the window, away from Jimmy. "I..." He 
took a deep breath, then started again. "I guess I'm just 
worried about what the guys are going to think. I mean, 
they saw us here. What if they think that you and I, that 
we're..."

Jimmy chuckled. "I woke up when they came in last night. 
Langly made some crack about it, but I told him what was 
going on, and I think he understood that it wasn't about 
sex or anything. Anyway, Frohike smacked him about it." His 
arm moved back to Byers' waist, hand resting on John's hip.

"Thanks, Jimmy. I'm glad it wasn't misunderstood."

"Oh, no way. The guys, they know you're not like that. I 
mean, about Dr. Modeski and all. And I would never do 
anything like that unless it was what you really wanted 
anyway." 

Byers turned and looked at Jimmy. "What do you mean by 
that?"

Jimmy's smile faded, his face serious. "I meant what I said 
last night, John. I'd do anything for you. Like, even if it 
was about sex. But only if that was what you really 
wanted." He looked into John's eyes. "Only if I was who you 
really wanted."

Byers blinked. "I thought you were in love with Yves, 
Jimmy. Are you saying you're gay?"

Jimmy smiled and shook his head. "No, I'm not gay. And 
yeah, I really like Yves, but I like guys too."

Byers lay silent for a long moment, contemplating what had 
just been said. He opened his mouth to speak, but a loud 
moan from Langly interrupted him.

"Oh, maaaaaaan," the blonde groaned.

"Sounds like somebody's got a hangover," Jimmy said, 
laughing.

"Aspirin," Langly whined. "And you make any hangover jokes, 
I'll make you drive all the way home, Gigantor."

"Langly, if you're that hung over, there's no way I'd trust 
you to drive to begin with," Byers said. He sat up. Jimmy's 
arm remained draped casually around his waist, one warm 
hand on his hip, unmoving. He yawned and stretched as 
Frohike joined them in the land of the living. 

"Oh God," Frohike moaned, putting on his glasses and 
looking at the clock, "we have to get on the road."

"I really need a shower first," John said, getting out of 
bed. His eyes caught Jimmy's for a moment, and there was an 
intensity in them he'd never seen before. He needed time to 
think, to sort out his head and his emotions. Nothing felt 
normal right now, and he hoped that by the time they got 
home, he'd be able to resolve some of the mess that mired 
him. 

***

ON THE ROAD
ALABAMA
LATE NIGHT

Frohike had been just as hung over as Langly, so Byers and 
Jimmy had been driving all day while the others slept off 
their headaches in the back of the microbus. Byers had said 
little, lost in thought as he drove, or staring off into 
the distance from the passenger seat. Most of his 
'conversation' had consisted of making 'I'm listening' 
noises during Jimmy's running monologue about whatever 
caught his eye. 

John's mind was crowded, swimming, barely able to contain 
his fears, his anger, his shame, his confusion. Images of 
Korowski's menacing figure moved at the edge of his vision 
as the day passed, leaving him jumpy and irritable. 
Sometimes, just for a moment, he could feel the other 
inmates' hands on him, and Korowski's weight on his back as 
the man attempted to rape him, the man's fingers digging 
into the flesh of his hips, the pain of the man's hard cock 
battering at his ass trying to penetrate him. Mixed 
disturbingly among those images were flashes of Jimmy's 
friendly face, the warmth of his body against John's back, 
the comforting embrace of his arm around John's waist in 
the night, Jimmy's hand resting softly on his hip. It was 
hard to tell where one image, one feeling began and another 
ended.

The blue sign of an impending rest stop caught Byers' eye. 
"Jimmy, I need to stretch my legs and use a bathroom. Let's 
stop here."

"Oh, yeah, me too," Jimmy said. He signaled and moved into 
the right lane to exit.

Byers looked back at Frohike and Langly, both still 
sleeping on a foam mattress on the floor under the banks of 
equipment behind the bench seat. Langly's head was pillowed 
on Frohike's chest. He was drooling slightly, leaving a 
dark, damp spot on Frohike's henley. "You think they're 
ever going to wake up?"

Jimmy laughed. "Maybe in a couple hours."

"It would be nice if they'd drive for a while."

"Yeah, it would." Jimmy pulled into the deserted passenger 
vehicle parking area. "You wanna call it a night and try to 
get some sleep here?"

Byers nodded as the van shuddered into silence. "I think 
we'd better. We can't afford another night at a motel. 
Unfortunately, I don't think the bench seat is going to be 
very comfortable to sleep on."

The two men got out of the microbus and walked toward the 
brick restroom building together. "You know," Jimmy said, 
"this is the first time you've said anything to me all day. 
I was worried. Are you mad at me?"

Byers stopped and stared at Jimmy. Two steps later, Jimmy 
stopped and looked back at him, apprehensive. "Well, are 
you?"

John shook his head. "No, Jimmy. I've just had a lot on my 
mind, that's all," he said softly. Byers started toward the 
bathroom again, Jimmy falling into step by his side. John 
put a hand on Jimmy's shoulder and squeezed for a moment, 
then let go.

"You want to talk about it?"

Byers sighed. "I'm not sure I can," he said quietly.

"Whatever it is, you know you can tell me."

No one was in the restroom when they entered. One bare bulb 
flickered dimly as the men pissed. Byers kept looking over 
his shoulder, watching the door nervously.

Jimmy brushed a hand across his shoulder. "There's nobody 
here but us. Korowski's not waiting outside for you. 
Lowry's not here either."

John looked over at Jimmy, zipped up his pants, then washed 
his hands. "I know," he said finally. He examined the 
fading bruises on his face in the mirror under the low 
light. They were still tender and a bit painful.

"You aren't acting like you know it." Jimmy stood behind 
him, watching him as he touched the cut on his face 
gingerly. "You act like you expect everybody to attack 
you."

Byers spun and shouted, "Well maybe I do!"

Jimmy backed up a step, raising his spread hands between 
them, palms out. "Whoa, John, take it easy! It's just me. 
I'm not going to hurt you, I promise."

Byers took a deep breath and realized that he'd raised his 
fists, ready to strike. Slowly and deliberately, he 
unclenched his hands and lowered them to his sides, 
shaking. "God, I'm a mess," he whispered.

"You're gonna be okay," Jimmy said softly, laying one hand 
on John's shoulder. "You've been through a really awful 
experience. I mean, sure, it could have been worse, but it 
was bad enough as it was. It just takes time to deal with 
this stuff. You've got to give yourself enough time, that's 
all."

Byers looked up into Jimmy's earnest face. He was right, of 
course. All of this had only happened a few days ago. The 
wound was still so fresh that, were it physical, it would 
still be bleeding. It wasn't right to treat Jimmy as though 
he had done anything. In fact, his friend had helped him in 
every possible way through this whole miserable time.

"I'm sorry, Jimmy."

"It's okay. There's nothing to be sorry for. You didn't do 
anything."

The men started back for the van. Jimmy stopped at a 
vending machine and got a couple of candy bars. "You want 
one?" he asked John.

"No, thanks. I don't think I can eat anything right now, 
and even if I could, pure sugar wouldn't be it."

"Oh, it's not all sugar," Jimmy said. "There's chocolate 
and milk and peanuts and..." he stared at the wrapper. "Uh, 
well, I don't think I can pronounce the rest of this stuff, 
but it isn't sugar." They stopped and sat at a picnic table 
near the vending machine. Jimmy peeled the wrapper off one 
bar and took a large bite.

"Jimmy..." Byers said.

"Mmm?" Bond's mouth was full.

"What's it like?"

"Oh, it's great," Jimmy said through the gooey mass. "All 
chocolatey, and it's got these crunchy peanuts. Well, 
they're kinda stale, but --"

"That's not... that's not what I was asking about."

Jimmy looked over at Byers. "What do you mean, then?"

John looked away from Jimmy, casting his eyes to the 
ground. He paused a moment to get himself together, then 
spoke very quietly. "What's it like... being with another 
man." He closed his eyes, trying to block Korowski's face, 
the reek of stale tobacco smoke, and the weight of the 
man's body from his memory.

Jimmy thought for a moment. "Well, it's... everybody's 
different, you know? Like, not all girls are the same, and 
neither are guys. It depends on what you do, and what you 
like, and stuff like that."

John shuddered. "What if Korowski had done what he'd 
intended? What... what if he'd..." Byers swallowed, "what 
if he'd raped me? What if I'd... liked it or something?"

Jimmy's eyes widened with alarm, and he moved close to 
John, sliding an arm around his friend's shoulders. "Oh, no 
way man. That's not what it's like at all. Oh man. No, 
John. It's never that way if you care about somebody. Would 
you ask that question if it happened to a girl? If it had 
happened to anybody but you?"

Byers shook his head, saying nothing.

Jimmy shook his head as well. "Of course you wouldn't. Why 
would you think that... that rape would be anything like 
what happens between two people who care about each other? 
Or even like something people do for fun?" He paused, 
wrapping both arms around Byers. "What happened to you is a 
horrible thing, John," he said, quiet and intense. "Nobody 
deserves to have that happen to them."

"Why did he target me?" Byers asked, his voice breaking. 
"How could this have happened? Did I do something to 
provoke him? Was I... was I flaunting myself or something? 
What made him come after me? Was this my fault?"

"Oh, God, John." Jimmy held Byers' shaking frame tightly. 
"None of this was your fault. You didn't do anything. You 
didn't ask for it. You didn't deserve it. Korowski is a 
sicko. That's why he's on death row in the first place, 
remember? He did the same thing to other people. He raped 
and killed six women before they caught him." Jimmy fell 
silent a moment, and when he spoke again, his voice shook 
with rage. "It wasn't about you, John. You were just there. 
You didn't do anything!" Jimmy looked away and said,  "If 
anything, it's all my fault."

John's tremors refused to abate. His eyes were shut tight, 
and he held onto Jimmy's arms like a drowning man. "Your 
fault? You stopped him, Jimmy. How could it be your fault?"

Jimmy sighed and held John tighter. "I wasn't there. I 
didn't notice you weren't next to me. He'd never have had 
the chance at all if I'd been there with you, where I was 
supposed to be."

"It wasn't your fault," Byers whispered. "You can't be 
everywhere, Jimmy. Nobody can. But I just... I wish I knew 
what I'd said or done. I must have done something wrong. I 
must have said... God, Jimmy, all my life I... sometimes I 
wondered what... what it would be like to be with another 
man. Maybe he could see that. Maybe that's why he did it. 
He called me a fag -- maybe I..."

"No," Jimmy insisted. "There's no way anybody could have 
known how you felt unless you told them yourself. I didn't 
know. The guys never knew, or even guessed. They're almost 
as freaked out about what happened as you are, but they 
don't want to let you see it. They're trying to be strong 
for you, so they can help you. And even if anyone ever did 
know, that's got nothing to do with what Korowski did. 
That's not the way rapists think."

Byers' eyes jerked open and he stared Jimmy in the face. 
His fingers clenched around Jimmy's arm, digging in hard. 
"And just how the hell would you have any idea what a 
rapist would think?" The question was angry and sharp, 
accusatory.

There was no change in Jimmy's concerned expression. 
"Because back in college, I had a girlfriend, Betsy, who 
was raped. I learned a lot more about it than I ever wanted 
to know. But now I'm glad I do, John, because maybe that 
means I can help you, if you'll let me. She's okay now. You 
can get through this too."

John felt the blood drain from his face. "I'm sorry," he 
whispered. "I didn't know."

"Don't be sorry. I just want to help. I just want to be 
here for you. The guys, they want to help too. They're real 
worried about you. We all just want you to be okay."

"I feel like I'll never be okay again."

"You just need time, John."

Byers shook his head, trying again to push away the images 
and sensations. "I can't get it out of my head. And it's 
not just him, it's last night -- it's the weight of his 
body on my back, and you against my back last night; his 
hands digging into my hips, and your hand on my hip; God, 
Jimmy, I can't..." John held his breath behind gritted 
teeth, willing himself to strangle the tears before they 
fell. He felt emasculated enough as it was, surviving the 
assault, acutely and painfully aware of his own long-
stifled fantasies and forbidden desires, no longer able to 
sort out the difference between Jimmy's caring touch and 
the violence of Korowski's attempted rape.

Finally, unable to hold his breath any longer, Byers gasped 
and quiet sobs wracked him. Jimmy held him, stroking his 
back and letting John's body give in to its demands for 
release. 

Byers didn't hear Jimmy's whispered words of comfort, 
conscious only of the agony in his heart and his desperate 
confusion and conflicting emotions. He was terrified of 
being touched, but craved the comfort of a friend's 
embrace. His disgust at himself and Korowski over the 
attempted rape left him sick in his soul, but Jimmy's 
comforting presence, his experiences, and his heartfelt 
offer to do anything John might ask, forced Byers to 
confront the questions he had buried for so long about what 
it would be like to be with another man. 

Byers could hear his father's voice in his head, lecturing 
him about the proper way to be a man. Men didn't cry, and 
here he was, sobbing in Jimmy's arms. Men stood up for 
themselves, and he'd had to call on Jimmy for help during 
the assault. Men acted with confidence, and his mind was so 
clouded with confusion right now that Byers wasn't sure 
which way was up. But most of all, men were men because 
they desired women, and while John was very familiar with 
that desire, in his mind and his betraying body, he'd felt 
desires for men, had known men he would have willingly been 
with if he could only break through the social stigmas and 
the fear  that surrounded those needs. John's family, his 
church, and the society he grew up in had encouraged him to 
be the good little straight boy, and he had always 
considered himself one, even in those occasional moments of 
curiosity.  

What had happened to him violated all the taboos. The 
assault had torn away his confidence in himself, and left 
the label of his 'straightness' a shambles, exposed for the 
farce it had always been. And yet Jimmy was obviously not 
exactly straight either, but he epitomized all the things 
that John's father would have been proud of, things that 
signified straightness, things his father would have 
considered male and proper. Jimmy might not be particularly 
well equipped in the IQ department, but no one could deny 
that he was a very masculine man. Jimmy Bond was strong and 
confident, able to take care of himself physically, and he 
was obviously and openly attracted to women. And yet, he 
had confessed to not just an interest in men, but actual 
sexual and emotional involvements with them.

John knew in his heart that he loved Susanne deeply, even 
though they would probably never have their 'someday.' He 
had failed to keep Susanne safe; hell, even now, after 
she'd been freed from her black ops captivity, they 
couldn't be together. He wouldn't be able to protect her, 
wouldn't be able to keep the men who had used her from 
finding her again if they were together. Were those 
failures of his manhood, or just fate kicking him in the 
nuts? Maybe his father had been wrong. Maybe the church and 
society were, too. It wouldn't be the first time in his 
life that the foundation of everything he'd believed in had 
been proved far less trustworthy than it appeared.

Byers was exhausted from his now slowing tears, his body 
drained. Jimmy still held him, still whispered to him, 
assuring him that he was safe and cared for, that 
everything would be all right in the end.

"C'mon, John. Let's get back to the van. You really need 
some sleep."

Byers nodded. "Thanks, Jimmy," he said. He leaned into his 
friend, Jimmy's arm around him as they walked. 

When they arrived at the van, rather than opening the 
passenger door, Jimmy opened the side door. "Okay guys," he 
said, shaking Frohike's leg -- the closest limb to where he 
stood -- "rise and shine. "

Frohike and Langly startled awake, cursing and moaning.

"Fuck, it's dark," Langly grumbled.

"What time is it?" Frohike asked.

"About 1:30 in the morning," Jimmy answered. "Me and Byers 
have been driving all day. We need some sleep."

Frohike stared for a moment. "Where are we?"

"Rest stop in Alabama, an hour or so outside of 
Montgomery," Jimmy said.

"God, I gotta piss," Langly said, staggering out the door.

"I don't care what you guys do, as long as you let us get 
some sleep," Jimmy shouted to Langly as the blonde hurried 
up the path to the restroom. 

Frohike hauled himself to his feet and stretched. "Oh shit, 
the skinny bastard drooled all over me." He rubbed at the 
wet spot on his chest and ran after Langly. 

John crawled into the back of the microbus and collapsed on 
the foam mattress, drawing some of the blankets up around 
himself, then removed his tie and unbuttoned the top 
buttons of his shirt. The foam didn't offer much cushioning 
from the hard floor of the van, but it was better than 
nothing. He held up one edge of the blankets, inviting 
Jimmy to join him.

Jimmy followed John into the van, slamming the door behind 
them, then curled up next to Byers. "Are you feeling any 
better?" he asked.

Byers nodded, and shifted his weight, seeking a more or 
less comfortable position, then rested his head on Jimmy's 
chest. Jimmy hesitated a moment, then wrapped his arms 
around John.

"Will you be okay with this?"

"Yeah. Thanks, Jimmy." He lay in the dark, silent for a few 
moments, waiting for Langly and Frohike to return. 

Restless, he shifted his weight and leaned up on one elbow, 
looking into Jimmy's face. "Actually, there's one more 
thing I'd like before I try to sleep."

"What's that?"

Byers leaned down slowly, nervous and tentative. His lips 
brushed Jimmy's gently. Jimmy hesitated, trying to 
determine if Byers meant it, then softly responded to 
John's timid kiss, opening his mouth and moving his tongue 
along John's lips, letting Byers decide what was enough.

John shuddered and gasped, but pressed his own mouth to 
Jimmy's more firmly, his heart hammering. The tip of his 
tongue slid along Jimmy's, and they both breathed deeply, 
savoring the sensuality of it. 

Suddenly, Byers pulled away, afraid of his response and the 
alarming intrusion of images of the assault.

"It's okay," Jimmy said. "You don't have to do anything you 
don't want to. If you aren't ready for this right now, I'll 
still be here when you are. Just relax, John. Try to get 
some sleep." 

Byers sank back into Jimmy's embrace, resting his head on 
his friend's chest. With an exhausted sigh, he closed his 
eyes. He felt Jimmy pull the blankets up to cover his 
exposed shoulder, then his friend's arms closed around him 
again. Byers knew that nothing about this was going to be 
easy or fast. He still felt the fear and the confusion with 
terrifying intensity, but at least for now, more than 
anything, he felt safe.

***

end