Suicide Doors

Chapter Ten

By: Jondy Macmillan

A/N: Beware the sons of preacher men, because obviously they are so attractive they'll have you wanting to write gay incestuous fic. Damn you, Jonai. Stop being so gorgeous. And gay. And in love.

Joe wasn't sure when the ban on speaking to him was put in place, but it had definitely been established. This might have had something to do with the crumpled tabloid left at the foot of his bed half a week after the party.

During the course of that week, Joe had labeled the entire shebang a 'bad idea'. Obviously taking Nick somewhere that reeked of alcohol and sex was never going to equal fixing his damaged reputation with his brothers; he had no idea why he'd thought it would. Then again, Joe had no idea where most of his harebrained ideas came from, so really, this wasn't much different from all the other times he'd royally fucked up.

Until the tabloid.

Joe had thought there were no reporters at the party. Because really, what kind of d-bag celebrity actually invites the paps in?

Apparently the d-bag celebrity who'd hosted this particular shindig.

The Lucas boys weren't the only celebs who'd gotten their privacy invaded, but Joe was the only one at the whole gig who'd made the front page.

It wasn't something he was proud of.

Well, maybe a little. He hadn't been on the front page of anything for at least three months, and the anonymity had been getting to him.

But he would much rather it had been Rolling Stone.

Anyway, even though Nick had been pissed about the whole Joe getting shitfaced with his little brother's hated ex debacle, he'd sort of forgiven him.

Probably because he hadn't witnessed them suck face. Which really, was something Joe had been worried about; they'd been real discreet, with the dark corners and quiet groping and everything, but it never hurt to be too cautious. In retrospect, Joe really wished they found an empty bathroom with a locked door, despite the grody-factor.

Or better yet, Joe wished he'd just kept his hands off the little vixen.

Nick hadn't seen, and that had been the only thing that kept Joe's brother on speaking terms with him. After their fight that night, it had been a little rocky, but eventually Nick had relented. Joe swore up and down that he'd behave himself for at least an entire…well-day, because Joe found it rather hard to behave as per the actual definition of the word. He ended up playing some stupid prank and making Nick laugh, and he was damned if it wasn't like the sun breaking through the clouds when his baby brother smiled. He'd dedicated himself to spending the next few days making Nick smile as much as possible; so much so that it was almost like it was summer again, and he hadn't started constructing stupid ideas about being a real rockstar and he got to spend every waking moment with Nick.

Then it happened.

The tabloid, on his bed. Wrinkled and evil. It was laying on his chest when he woke up Monday morning.

In an ideal world, Joe would have prostrated himself in front of Nick the second he saw it, begging for forgiveness. Nick would have said, "You played tonsil hockey with my ex girlfriend, Joe."

And Joe would have replied, "I'm so sorry. So, so, SO sorry. She tasted like feet."

In his mind, he'd mentally add, 'which I'm pretty sure you don't taste like; I remember from that one time I licked you when we were wrestling. Since kissing her was an experiment to see if I could vacuum your saliva out of her lips or something, which apparently failed, it pretty much blew.'

Except instead of apologizing to Nick, Joe rubbed his bleary eyes and rolled over, pulling the blankets tight around him. Sleeping in an extra hour before school seemed infinitely more important at the time.

That had been four days ago. Since then, neither Nick nor Kevin had so much as asked him to pass the bread.

He was standing in the hallway at school, deliberating the correct way to approach his brothers of seventeen years and his whole life, respectively, when a voice called out, "Joe!"

He thought it was his imagination. The truth was, very few people had been talking to him of late. He even read on one blog that girls were starting to call him not-so-nice names. Weren't girls supposed to like the whole bad boy thing?

"Joe?"

Because really, this whole tabloid nonsense was getting blown way out of proportion. He'd heard TMZ was telling everyone that he'd had to give the girl money for an abortion, which was ridiculous. His dick had stayed nicely in his pants. It was difficult to get it up when kissing felt more like getting covered in dog slobber.

"JOE!"

Joe started, turning to face his attacker- er, Stella. She stood with her hands on her hips, lips pursed, head cocked, "Why are you standing in the middle of the hallway with your eyes glazed over? You look like a freak."

"Don't mind me," Joe scowled; he was so not a freak, "I'm just nursing my broken soul."

Stella rolled her eyes, because she'd put up with years of Joe's dramatics. They didn't even faze her anymore.

"Kevin and Nick still aren't talking to you?"

"No," Joe carded a hand through his hair and groaned, "I don't get it. It's not like this is the stupidest thing I've ever done."

"No," Stella grinned, "You've done plenty stupider things. I think it's just that this is the most publically humiliating thing."

"C'mon. Last year the tabloids were telling everyone that Kevin was considering a sex change. That was way more humiliating."

"And untrue."

Joe shrugged, "It could have been true. Just like the allegations made against me could be false."

"There're pictures, Joe. You're really trying to pretend it didn't happen?"

Yeah. That would be great. Pretending it hadn't happened would mean Nick might actually look at him in a way that didn't sting. He might actually get to hear his baby brother's voice again.

Oh, and Kevin's, of course.

"Absolutely not. I'm just saying that worse accusations have been made."

"God, if I was your brothers I'd be pissed at you too. It doesn't matter if worse things have been said; it matters that this happened. You betrayed Nick's trust."

Guilt welled in Joe's stomach. He hated when Stella was right, which she so often was.

"He broke up with the girl like, eons ago."

Sometimes his mouth- it just opened, and pure shit spilled out. He really needed to get control of that whole think-before-you-speak thing.

"It doesn't matter. Joe," Stella pursed her lips again, her earnest eyes trained on his face. She was scrutinizing him in a way that made him uncomfortable, "You know Nick hates that girl. She broke his heart. You screwing around with her is like…I don't know, Joe- it must feel like rejection. Like you're accepting that he's not good enough for her. Maybe even like you're saying that you're better than him."

"But I'm not! Nick's the best person I know."

Nick was funny at the weirdest frickin' times, with this subtle, quick wit and this amazing smile. There were times when Joe would just stop and stare at him, completely breathless.

Then he remembered that Nick was his brother, and it made him ache.

"Well, I know that," Stella laughed, beautiful and carefree, "Nick doesn't."

"He should."

"Maybe his big brother should tell him."

Joe had to think about that. How often did he tell Nick how completely fucking awesome he was? Never, it felt like. That was a problem.

"But what about Kevin?" he asked. Sure, he wanted Kevin to speak to him again. Only Kevin not talking to him just felt like being in a fight with his dumb brother, while Nick's silence felt like something entirely different. Which, yeah- weird. Really frickin' weird, and really frickin' wrong. Joe was getting queasy just thinking of all the ways he needed psychotherapy.

"Kevin's just pissed on Nick's behalf. And maybe a little bit on behalf of all your fans."

"My fans?"

"JONAS's fans," Stella corrected, twirling her hair in a display of neon pink fingernails, "I think you guys are always presented as so…pure. This is the first time one of you has really, hugely, messed up in public, and I guess it's hard for them to swallow that you're human. You fuck up. Some of you more often than others."

"Gee, thanks," Joe growled sarcastically, glaring in the face of her bright, cheeky grin.

"No problem. I've known you're human for like, ever. Or at least since that time you ripped the head off my Malibu Barbie."

"Bitch was asking for it," Joe retorted crossly, even though he didn't even remember the event in question. He'd been all of three at the time.

"Joe!"

"Fine, whatever. I just get testy when people laugh at my pain."

Stella wasn't buying it, "I am your best friend; it's my job to laugh when you trip and fall."

"Shouldn't you be asking if I'm okay when I trip?"

"Mmm, no," she laughed again, but then her face grew serious and she said, "You're Joe Lucas. I have complete faith you'll be okay, no matter what."

Oh yeah. That was why he was friends with her. Stella always believed in him. Even when he didn't deserve it. This time he replied honestly, "Thanks, Stell."

"Sure. One more thing," she stopped him as he prepared to run off and find his little brother, "You're lucky to be so close with Kevin and Nick. I know I don't have to tell you that, but you're so dense sometimes. Most siblings aren't nearly as tight knit as you guys. It's enviable. What I'm saying is- this time, don't screw up."

Joe wished he could reassure her. He wished he could tell her the reason he'd made such a big mistake was because he'd wanted to be closer to at least one of his brothers. But he didn't think he could take the disgust that would surely cross her face. Stella had never been anything but supportive, anything but a best friend. He didn't think he could stand for her to hate him, to hate the vile thoughts he'd been having about Nick.

To hate the fact he didn't think the thoughts were so vile, anymore.

He couldn't find Nick where he usually held court. He couldn't find Nick anywhere before the bell rang. By the time he made it to his next class, Stella's pep talk fresh in his mind, he still didn't feel like any less of a dick.

In fact, Joe didn't even get the chance to talk to his brothers that night. They had a scheduled band practice, but somehow Nick had persuaded their dad to rearrange it.

He was out on a date with Penny. Again. It made Joe gnash his teeth together.

Kevin was out, doing whatever it was Kevin liked to do.

Their parents knew about the article, and they were mad, but they'd kind of accepted that Joe was receiving punishment enough from his brothers and the verbal battering he was getting online. Joe appreciated that they were backing off, but he kind of wished that maybe they'd stop looking at him like they didn't know where their son had gone. They mostly left him alone that night.

He coaxed Frankie into watching a movie, but night fell soon enough.

When Joe went to sleep in his loft bedroom, it was without the sound of his brothers doing the same.

The next day at school, Joe decided he'd had enough. Nick was going to talk to him whether he wanted to or not. Then, once they'd reconciled, they could tackle Kevin together. Kevin was always easier to con into caving, anyway.

Joe missed his brothers. He missed band practice.

He missed Nick's smile.

They needed to understand that he wasn't going to compromise the things he wanted so they could all live in peace, but he was completely prepared to promise them the sun, the moon, and the stars if all they wanted was for him to tone it down.

Not lock lips with any starlets in front of cameras, that sort of thing. He was down with that.

Something that felt vaguely like an eighteen wheeler barreled into him right as he'd begun to hunt for Nick. The truck, who was better known as Macy, started sputtering apologies.

Right up until she saw who she'd accidentally assaulted.

On a normal day, if Macy had bumped into Joe, her go-to reaction would have been fangirlish squeals.

This wasn't a normal day.

This was post-tabloid.

Instead of screaming in delight, Macy gave him the most soul-crushingly devastated look he'd ever been on the receiving end of. She was staring at him like he'd single-handedly crushed all of her dreams. And somewhere mixed in with all that wreckage was the one emotion Joe hated even more than sadness. Disappointment. Macy Misa was disappointed with him, just like Kevin.

Just like Nick.

"Joe Lucas," she murmured, agonized, "How could you?"

This was exactly what all the online message boards had been asking. How could he be such an asshole? How could he backstab his own brother? How could he make such amazing music and still be such a lowlife?

He wanted to make an anonymous post and add, 'how could he be in love with his own brother?'

Joe winced and ducked his head, mumbling an apology.

Macy didn't even acknowledge it. She just walked away.

That was about when Joe realized that maybe living to party wasn't actually as fun as their song lyrics made it sound.

In fact, it kind of sucked ass.

He didn't find Nick that day. He did stop looking at himself in the mirror so much. More often than not, he didn't like what he saw there.

A/N: Sorry to cut the chapter off in a weird place. The next one's going to have lots of Nick, and I kind of didn't want to mush all the dialogue to come with all the Stella-ness of this chapter. I'm not really confident with this chapter though, so please review! Also, just in case you're wondering when the slashy bits are coming- soon. I promise. Very, very soon.