Title: Maximum Byers 3: Razor's Edge
Author: Mice
E-mail: just_us_mice@yahoo.com
Category: LGM, Byers/Jimmy, Byers angst; post-ep: Maximum 
Byers
Rating: R for adult language and situations
Summary: Sequel to Texas Death House Blues and Long Journey 
Home -- Jimmy tries to help as Byers deals with his fears 
and paranoia.
Archive: DITB, Lone Slasher, all others ask
Disclaimer: If you think they're mine, you're delusional. I 
recommend a psychiatric exam.
Mondo Excellente beta by Anndie, Sally and Rae

***

LONE GUNMEN HEADQUARTERS
TAKOMA PARK, MARYLAND
LATE AFTERNOON

Jimmy finished his filing for the day, remembering not to 
file things starting with "the" under T, as Frohike had 
insisted very loudly. He'd been keeping a quiet eye on John 
since they'd returned home nearly a week ago. Byers had 
said very little since they'd arrived, and spoke to any of 
them only when it was needed, and only about work. John 
constantly looked wary and frightened, and was jumpy at 
sudden noises and movements, flinching if anyone touched 
him. Jimmy was worried. Very worried.

It wasn't like John to be this quiet, to avoid his friends 
the way he had been. Jimmy'd talked to Frohike and Langly 
about it yesterday, and all of them agreed that it had to 
be because of what had happened in Texas, and that it had 
to stop, but neither of the others were sure how to deal 
with it. Langly insisted that Byers would get over it on 
his own, while Frohike offered to talk to him, but wasn't 
sure how to approach him about it.

Jimmy had finally said he'd do it, realizing that he was 
probably the only one who'd had any experience with a 
situation like this. Frohike had objected, but when Jimmy 
told them about his old girlfriend Betsy, they agreed that 
maybe he was the right one to do it after all. He was being 
careful, watching John, waiting for the right time, knowing 
it would come when it came and not before. Timing was 
really important, he knew, and John's talk with him at the 
rest stop in Alabama had told him a lot that he'd needed to 
know to cope with the situation. He'd learned a few things 
about the shy, quiet man that neither Frohike nor Langly 
suspected, and understood that talking to them about it 
would only make things worse for John right now.

Frohike had left a few hours ago to follow up on a lead 
he'd found, and Langly had gone out to meet a friend for 
the rest of the afternoon, so he and John would be alone 
for the next several hours. Byers was sitting at his 
keyboard, looking distracted as he edited an article. Jimmy 
decided that the time had come to try to talk with his 
friend and mentor.

He went over and sat on John's desk, next to the keyboard.

"Yes, Jimmy?" Byers glanced up at him. He looked tired and 
sad.

Jimmy put a hand on John's shoulder. "You've hardly been 
talking to me or the guys since we got home. We're worried 
about you."

Byers stiffened slightly under Jimmy's hand, but then 
relaxed. The tension was almost invisible, but Jimmy could 
feel it come and go in the other man's body. "You know I 
would never hurt you, John," he said quietly. "I just want 
to try to help."

Byers sat silent for a while, watching Jimmy's face. Jimmy 
waited patiently, his hand staying still on Byers' 
shoulder.

Finally, Byers said, "Nothing's going to help."

"Talking helps," Jimmy offered.

John shook his head. "I've said more than I should have 
already." He looked back down at the keyboard, fidgeting 
uneasily.

"No," Jimmy said. "You haven't even started, you just don't 
know it yet." He slid his hand down John's arm slowly, 
covering the other man's hand. It was cold. He took it in 
both of his own and rubbed it gently to warm it.

Byers slumped back into his chair and sighed. He watched 
Jimmy warily.

"You've been real nervous and jumpy since we got home too," 
Jimmy continued. "You're spooking at shadows. The guys 
don't know what to do, but we really want to help."

"I don't need help. I'll be fine."

Jimmy shook his head as Byers' hand warmed between his 
palms. "Not if you stay quiet like this, all jumpy and 
stuff. If you don't try to deal with it, it just gets 
worse."

Byers looked up at Jimmy. His mouth opened, but nothing 
came out. Jimmy continued rubbing his hand and waiting. "I 
don't know how," he finally admitted.

Deciding that John's hand was finally warm enough, he laid 
it on his knee and picked up the other hand. It was equally 
icy. He started the warming process again, and Byers gave a 
quiet, tired sigh. His thumb shifted slightly on Jimmy's 
knee, then slowly began moving back and forth in a tiny 
caress.

"You were doing okay at the rest stop," Jimmy said. "I 
think you know how, but you don't know you know it yet." 
John was a very smart man, and Jimmy was sure he would 
figure it out, as long as he could just let himself start 
talking.

John took a deep breath and let it out, shuddering. "I'm... 
" He sighed. "I just..." Byers looked away from Jimmy, and 
shook his head again. "This isn't going to work."

"Sure it will," Jimmy told him, still rubbing John's other 
hand. "Whatever's going on, it'll be okay. Just talk to 
me."

When Byers looked back at Jimmy, his blue eyes were clouded 
with fear. "I'm still seeing it at night. Seeing *him.* 
Feeling his... feeling his hands on me... his..." John 
stopped and pulled his hand abruptly from between Jimmy's, 
wrapping his arms around himself with a sharp shiver.

"Please donšt hide from me," Jimmy said gently. He reached 
out and touched John's shoulder again, trying to bring him 
back from where he was. Byers twitched but didn't pull 
away. Betsy had done this as well, many times. He knew that 
he couldn't let John back away from everything, hide in a 
turtle shell away from everyone else. He cared too much to 
watch him hurt like this. "I'm not him. I'm your friend, 
John. There's no reason for you to hide from me."

He rolled John's chair a little closer and started rubbing 
the man's shoulders softly as Byers remained silent. "I 
won't let anyone hurt you, I promise."

Byers shook his head violently, then reached up and stopped 
Jimmy's hands, clutching them with a startling strength. 
"You're part of it... you scare the crap out of me," Byers 
said, his voice harsh. "Please... don't touch me."

Jimmy withdrew his hands, resting them in his lap. "Why are 
you afraid of me?" he asked, puzzled. "You know I would 
never hurt you. I only want to help."

Byers stood and backed a few steps away from him. Jimmy 
stayed where he was. "Talk to me, John. It's like... how 
could anybody save Timmy if Lassie didn't tell them where 
he was?"

"I'm just... " Byers backed away another step, ignoring the 
inevitable weird Jimmy analogy. "Half the time I don't even 
know if I'm even awake or not. I don't know what's real and 
what isn't anymore. But he's always there. I can... smell 
him. I can feel his hand around my throat..." John 
shuddered.

Jimmy ached to go over and hug his friend, but until he 
could figure out why Byers was afraid of him, he knew it 
would only make things worse. He thought back to their 
conversation at the rest stop. Byers had said before that 
he'd had a hard time knowing whether it was Korowski who 
was touching him, or Jimmy. Maybe that was the problem.

"I'm not him," Jimmy said again. "You're not there anymore. 
He's not here. He can't hurt you again, John." He stood and 
took a step toward his friend. Byers didn't look up. "I'm a 
different person. Listen, John. I don't sound the same as 
him. I'm not him. Look at me, and you'll see it's true."

Byers looked up at Jimmy, frightened "I know," he said, 
miserable. "It's not... it's not that, Jimmy."

"Well, what is it, then?"

Byers squeezed his eyes shut, head bowed. "I can't feel 
this way. I don't want to feel this way. It's... it's 
wrong. I'm wrong -- there's something wrong with me and I 
can't get it to stop." There was anger in his voice as well 
as fear. "Maybe my dad was right. Maybe I went insane 
somewhere and never noticed, maybe..."

Jimmy tilted his head and looked at John. "What way don't 
you want to feel?" he asked. "Afraid? Mad?"

Byers stood silent and motionless for several minutes. 
Jimmy waited.

Eventually, Byers spoke, still folded in on himself. "I... 
I don't want... I don't want to feel this... desire. I 
don't want to be attracted to other men. I don't want to 
have dreams about men -- about you -- because all I can see 
is Korowski and I just can't..." He choked to a stop, 
looking appalled.

"About me?" Jimmy whispered. He stepped forward again and 
took John in his arms, murmuring softly. "I'm not him, 
John. I'll never be like him. You're safe with me, I 
promise, and I swear I'd never do anything you didn't ask 
me to. God, I'd never hurt you. I could never do anything 
like that to you."

"I can't do this, Jimmy," Byers said. He shook off Jimmy's 
embrace.

"Please talk to me," Jimmy asked. "Why do you think what 
you're feeling is wrong? You know it's not."

Byers shuffled back another step, speaking fast, almost 
frantic. "Because it all feels like *him*! Because I can't 
get away from him, can't close my eyes without seeing him!" 
There was panic in his face.

"But it's not really him, and I'm not him," Jimmy moved 
forward again and reached out to John. "You've gotta --"

"Don't *touch* me!" Byers shouted. He turned and hurried 
from the office. 

Jimmy stood and looked down at his offending hand.

***

Byers spent the rest of the evening in his room, not 
bothering to emerge for dinner. Nothing he'd been doing the 
entire past week could get Korowski out of his head -- 
reading, music, working on stories, tv, hacking, analyzing 
files -- everything just spun in frantic circles. Half the 
time he thought he could smell stale cigarette smoke around 
him, even though he knew there was none. He'd found himself 
looking behind doors and into closets when the others 
weren't watching him. The lack of sleep and his fear were 
making him irrational.

The nightmares had been horrifying, and he would wake 
sweating and breathless, sure there were hands on him, 
Korowski's weight holding him down. His covers wouldn't 
stay neat, and he would find them strewn across the bed in 
the morning, half of them piled on the floor. Once, he'd 
woken with his hands and feet tangled in the sheets, nearly 
screaming with fear that he'd been tied down to be used. 
The dreams were different in circumstance, but in every 
case, it was Korowski's face he saw, Korowski's hands on 
him.

To his shame, he'd also been having dreams in which other 
men would arouse him, men he'd known or seen in his younger 
years, that he'd wished he'd had the chance or the courage 
to approach. They would kiss him or caress him and he would 
respond eagerly, only to have them change shape and become 
Korowski. The short, stinking man would hit him, choke him, 
push him into a wall or down onto a table or the ground and 
rip at John's suit, stripping him violently, forcing 
himself on him. Byers counted himself lucky that he'd 
always startled awake before he was raped, at least so far. 
It was getting to the point where he was becoming afraid to 
sleep, knowing things would only be worse when his 
conscious mind was no longer in control.

In several of his dreams, the man seducing him had been 
Jimmy; wide, innocent blue eyes gazing into his own. And 
he'd wanted the tall, athletic blonde. He remembered the 
brief, tentative kiss he'd shared with his friend in the 
van on the trip home -- the delicate touch of the tip of 
Jimmy's tongue on his lips and his own tongue, the sudden 
flood of desire, and the sharp following terror that drew 
him back. When the shift to Korowski's face and body took 
place in those dreams, it was an agonizing betrayal, and 
the only response to these nightmares John could conceive 
was to withdraw from Jimmy, and from his other friends. He 
couldn't let them know about the nightmares, about what 
they were doing to him. 

He'd berated himself for hours for allowing a part of this 
horrible secret slip to Jimmy earlier in the evening. Jimmy 
now knew John had dreamed of him, and must have guessed 
that John was attracted to him after all that had been said 
and done since the assault. That attraction, that desire, 
was a weakness he feared would destroy him and those around 
him, and take away what little of his masculinity he might 
still have. His father, still angry with him for throwing 
away a promising career to publish the paper, would surely 
turn his back on him forever if he found out about these 
feelings. Their relationship was fragile enough as it 
stood, and he didn't want to lose what little contact they 
had after so many years of silence. 

And then there were Langly and Frohike. What would they 
say? They didn't know what John had learned about Jimmy's 
affections, and he feared if Frohike knew, he might use it 
as an excuse to throw Jimmy out, despite the fact that he 
was backing the paper. The young man's stupidity could be 
more than irritating sometimes, and even John occasionally 
thought they might be safer without Jimmy getting them into 
trouble. But no, they got into enough trouble all on their 
own, really. Things wouldn't be the same without him 
around, any more than they'd be the same if Langly or 
Frohike left.

Would John's closest friends reject him if they knew what 
he was going through? If they knew what he'd thought, or 
the contents of some of his dreams over the years? Would 
Langly be shocked and angry if he knew that a few years 
after they met, John had been tempted to ask him if he 
might... He pushed the thought away violently. Being 
involved with either of them would complicate everything -- 
even if there had ever been a prayer that the straight and 
seemingly virginal Langly might have been interested -- and 
it could put everyone's lives at risk if it were 
discovered. The shadow government and the powerbrokers they 
worked to expose would use anything against them if it 
suited their purposes. Even if these feelings hadn't been 
shoved in his face by the rape attempt, they might ruin his 
life if he acknowledged them, much less dared to act on 
them.

Langly had come into John's room at one point after he and 
Frohike had returned home, offering inane conversation to 
try to distract him, but he'd snapped something angry and 
inappropriate in reply and Ringo had taken the hint and 
left. After that, he heard the guys talking about him in 
the living room, but their voices were too low to 
understand much of what they were saying. At one point 
Frohike had yelled at Jimmy, but by then they were in a 
different room and all he got was that Jimmy had done 
something wrong again.

Exhausted and angry with himself, Byers went to bed.

After a long stretch of restless tossing, he slept. In 
sleep, the nightmares returned.

<>

"You know you want it, John." 

Jimmy stood close before him, wearing nothing but soft, 
faded jeans. Those adoring blue eyes were fixed on his, and 
the tall blonde ran a tender hand over his cheek, along the 
edge of his jaw. The contact sent shudders of pleasure 
through John's body. He looked down at the bulge in Jimmy's 
jeans. Jimmy wanted him. 

"It feels good, John. Better than you could ever imagine."

"Tell me what it's like," he whispered. "I want to know."

Jimmy smiled and ran his fingers down John's bare chest to 
the waistband of his jeans, and John's breath quickened, 
his heart pounding. "Why talk about it when you can feel it 
for yourself?"

Byers closed his eyes as Jimmy moved closer, warm breath on 
his neck and collarbone as the man's lips and the tip of 
his tongue slid gently across his skin. Their bodies met 
and he arched into Jimmy's searching lips as a strong hand 
moved softly up his back. It was exquisite, and he panted 
as Jimmy kissed his throat.

Another hand sliding down into his own half-buttoned jeans, 
cupping his ass, holding him close to Jimmy's heat and 
hardness, the skin of their bare chests sliding sensuously 
together, and he slid his arms around Jimmy's waist. 

"Oh, god," he whispered.

Jimmy's mouth on his ear; his tongue traced the edge, and a 
shiver ran down John's spine straight into his stiffening 
cock. "I want to suck you, John." Jimmy's voice was low and 
the hiss of the sibilant 'suck' shot through him like an 
arrow, leaving his body burning.

Byers could barely speak. The passion was so high in him 
that he could barely breathe, and he could feel his heart 
hammering everywhere in his body. "Puh... please..." was 
all he could stammer as Jimmy's mouth moved down his neck 
to his chest, fastening on a nipple with a lick and a 
pulling suck that made John moan with need...

...and Jimmy's body melted and changed in his arms. The 
stench of stale cigarette smoke filled his lungs and his 
back was slammed against the bars of his cell, sending a 
brilliant shaft of agony through him. John tried to scream, 
but no sound came out. Korowski rose and met his eyes, 
leering at him. "Gonna fuck you, pretty boy. Gonna make you 
beg. You know you want it." A hand took his throat and 
started to squeeze.

John swung wildly, striking out at the man he hated and 
feared.

<>

Jimmy was walking past John's room on his way to bed. There 
were sounds coming from inside. Rustling and moans and 
harsh breath on the edge of panic. He paused, worried, and 
opened the door. 

Byers was thrashing, his arms swinging wildly, mouth open 
wide in a half-formed, horrified moan.

Jimmy ran across the room and grabbed Byers' wrists. "John 
-- *John!* Wake up!"

Byers kept struggling, his eyes open but unseeing. A hoarse 
scream burst from his throat.

"Wake up! It's okay! You're home, you're safe!" Jimmy 
shouted, trying to break through whatever John was 
experiencing. He leaned onto the bed with one knee, trying 
to keep John from hitting him as the terrified man 
struggled with the demons in his nightmare.

Langly and Frohike burst through the door in a dead run, 
Langly's mouth foaming with toothpaste. 

"What's happening?" Frohike snapped.

Jimmy shook Byers. "Wake up, John! You're okay! You're 
safe!"

John screamed again, blinking as consciousness returned. 
With a shocked look around his darkened room, he saw 
himself surrounded by his friends, Jimmy clutching his 
wrists. Korowski was nowhere in sight. There was no stench 
of stale smoke.

With a groan, Byers folded forward. Jimmy let go of his 
wrists, and John wrapped his arms around his knees tightly 
to try to control his violent shuddering.

Langly wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and wiped 
the stray foam onto his jeans, then he and Frohike came and 
sat on the bed as Jimmy settled next to John. They all 
reached out to him, touching him gently, caressing him, 
anchoring him in reality as he wept.

"You're safe, John," Jimmy whispered to him. "We're all 
here for you. Please, you gotta let us help."

Byers remained curled in a tight ball, sitting in the 
middle of his small bed, struggling to stop his shaking as 
his friends leaned in and held him. Jimmy shifted and sat 
behind him, long arms curling around him. Frohike stroked 
his hair while Langly put an arm around his shoulder and 
held his hand.

"Come back, dude," Langly said quietly. "You're scaring us 
here."

Byers' control returned quickly, the tears shoved back, 
though the shaking was much harder to still. He forced his 
breathing to even out, and unfolded a little, leaning into 
Langly and Jimmy's arms. A moment later, he looked up, 
finding Frohike's stark, concerned face shadowed in the 
partial darkness of his room.

"I'll be fine," John said, his voice ragged.

Frohike shook his head. "Right, Scully."

Byers squeezed Langly's hand and let it go. "Thanks guys," 
he whispered.

"Talk to us," Frohike urged him quietly.

John shook his head. "I can't yet." He took a deep breath. 
"I just can't. Not right now. Maybe in a while."

Langly hugged the sweat-soaked Byers and backed away a bit. 
"You need anything?" he asked. "Want some coffee or 
something? Some water?"

John shook his head. "No. That's okay, thanks." He hoped 
Ringo understood how much the offer meant to him, even in 
his refusal. "I'll be okay guys, really." His voice was 
steadier now.

Frohike looked at him skeptically. "You sure?"

"Yeah. I just... I just need to try and sleep again. It's 
been hard, and it's making things get weird at night 
sometimes."

Langly squeezed Byers' shoulder, then got up. "C'mon guys. 
Let's let him get some sleep."

Frohike looked at John, then up at Langly. He looked back 
at John again. "You need anything, you let one of us know. 
I mean it."

Byers nodded. Frohike and Jimmy stood as well. As Langly 
and Frohike left, John took Jimmy's arm. He had to try to 
face his fears, knowing he couldn't keep his friends out 
forever. They wanted to help, and no matter how much he 
tried to deny it, he knew he needed them. He was terrified, 
but he had to determine where dream ended and reality 
began. Logic demanded it. His sanity demanded it. 

"Jimmy, would... would you stay for a few minutes?"

"Sure." Jimmy turned to him. "Is there anything you need?" 
he asked softly.

"Just company," John said.

Jimmy sat back on the bed with John. Tucking the pillow 
behind his back, he leaned comfortably against the wall, 
then looked at his friend. Byers caught the look in Jimmy's 
eyes, and Jimmy opened his arms. John leaned his back into 
Jimmy's embrace and they sat silent for a very long time. 
Slowly, Byers began to relax, letting the tension seep away 
bit by bit.

Dawn found them asleep, John wrapped in Jimmy's arms.

***

End