Having found the bathroom not exactly the private haven he'd been hoping for, Claude had splashed some water on his face then fled that, too. Damn it. He fumbled around in his pocket for his ticket, relieved when he found it. Once he knew he could get back in, he fled the theatre for the outside. Taking in huge gulps of the warm, night air, Claude rested wearily against the side of the building, trying to get his thoughts together.

A gentle hand landed on his shoulder, startling him out of all proportion to reality. None of the Tribe knew where he'd gone... Turning around, he met the worried eyes of Jeanie's son. Cloud just looked at him for a moment, then wordlessly enveloped him in a tight hug. And Claude found himself clinging to the younger man just as tightly. Cloud's voice whispered harshly in his ear, "Jesus, Uncle Claude... I'm sorry. I didn't realize this would be so hard for you."

After taking a few moments to get his head back in order, Claude pulled back, taking in a shuddering breath, "Not your fault. I... I should have been ready for that. I just... I was so busy worrying about my memories of being drafted that I forgot to worry about my memories of my parents. I guess it just caught me off guard."

Cloud nodded, eyes sad, "To tell you the truth, it's the one part of this thing that I have trouble connecting to. I've lived my whole life with this incredible support network: mom, Aunt Crissy, Aunt Dionne, Uncle Hud... and when I was younger, the whole rest of the Tribe. I never had a doubt that I was loved, that whoever I turned out to be, it would be OK. I knew they would all love me, regardless." Dropping his eyes, he whispered, "Jesus... I can't even imagine what it would be like to grow up without that certainty."

Claude shrugged, "It was all I ever knew. I never even thought to question it."

"It's no wonder you don't care whether or not you have kids." At Claude's raised eyebrow, Cloud continued, "In your life, that parent-child bond wasn't the most loving relationship you had. It was the ones you had with Uncle Berger... Aunt Sheila... my mom... the rest of the Tribe." Smiling sadly, he gripped Claude's shoulder, "OK... I think I get it, now."

An uncomfortable silence quickly settled between them and Cloud fidgeted. He was unused to seeing Claude so depressed, so lost... even when he hadn't known who he was, he'd been strong. Even when he'd been baring his soul to his class, there had been an underlying core of strength. Now... that was all absent. It was almost like he'd retreated back into being his teenaged self -- a boy who didn't know who he was or where he was going. A boy so afraid to be himself that he would rather let his father's wishes get him killed. It was eerie and Cloud didn't like it.

Finally, his lips twitched upwards. I may get stung for my efforts... but I'm going to swat this hornet's nest and see what I wake up... Crossing his arms over his chest and letting his face settle into an irritated expression, Cloud said, "So... Uncle Claude. One other thing I've been meaning to ask..."

Claude shrugged, still barely paying attention. Well, that would never do... "That bit about being a good fly and buzzing off... was my mom exaggerating that or were you really that much of an ass?"

The older man jerked back as though stung, eyes wide and hurt. Come on, Uncle Claude... take the bait... If I can't wake you up out of this, you're never going to survive the second act.

After a minute of staring into Cloud's narrowed eyes, Claude huffed out a small laugh and shook his head. Cloud breathed a sigh of relief as the other man answered, "In my defense, I had a lot on my mind then. But you're right... I was an ass. I've already resolved to do something really nice for your mom after all this is done. I'm reminded that I owe her... a lot."

At that moment, a bell dinged from inside and Cloud bit out a curse, "Oh shit. I gotta go get ready for Act II." Pausing to grip Claude's shoulder, he stared intently into the other man's eyes, "Are you gonna be OK?"

Claude smiled that same sad smile at him, "Yeah. I'll be all right. I think I'm a little more ready for this, now." At Cloud's still worried look, he rolled his eyes, "I solemnly promise that I will not pass out on you in the front row."

Smiling, Cloud gave the other man's shoulder one last squeeze, "Good. Tell the others I said, 'Hi,' OK?" With that last, he fled back through the stage door.

Claude watched him go with a grateful smile, then turned to look over his shoulder at the man who'd come up behind him, "Been there long?"

Berger shrugged and offered him a sheepish grin, "Long enough. Kid seemed to have a pretty good handle on you, so I didn't want to interfere." Stepping up, he rested a hand against Claude's cheek and repeated Cloud's earlier question, "You gonna be OK?"

Smiling softly, Claude nodded, "Yeah... I'm gonna be OK. I finally remembered what I told you 2 months ago. It's just a play, it's not real -- not anymore, anyway." Squaring his shoulders, he said, "And like they tell us at the Veterans' Center all the time... they're only memories. Memories can't hurt you unless you let them."

Leaning forward, Berger planted a chaste kiss on Claude's lips, "OK, Claudio. I believe you. Now let's go back in and finish this thing, shall we?"

Nodding in agreement, Claude wrapped an arm around Berger's waist. Berger let his arm drop to rest around Claude's shoulders. Entwined and supporting each other, they headed back in.

Fortunately, the second act was just starting when the pair slipped back into their seats and that forestalled any questions the others might have had. Berger hissed at them all, "He's fine. I'm fine. Let's just watch the show, OK?"

At that point, the house lights went down and the stage lights went up. After the intensity of Cloud's last song, the lighthearted, bluesy tune that they started up was extremely welcome. And Claude had a feeling that that was exactly why Jeanie had started this act that way. She seemed to be taking a cue from Sheila and Berger's description of their relationship with him: this play was a rollercoaster. Whenever things started getting too intense, she would drop in a lighthearted moment or even something ridiculously hysterical to break the tension. Well, Claude was just glad of the chance to breathe, because in spite of his words to Berger and Cloud, he was afraid he wouldn't be able to keep those promises.

Still, he smiled along with everyone else as "Berger" ran around the stage, interrupting the dancers and demanding that the musicians turn up the amps. Next to him, Berger smiled, proud of his alter ego's antics, "Man, I have got to meet this guy."

Just as the guitarist was really starting to whale out some amazing riffs and Berger was ready to get up and start dancing in the aisle... the lights went dead. Immediately, there started a steady murmuring in the audience and up on stage. Sheila leaned over, "Did they blow a circuit breaker? Talk about a stroke of wicked bad luck..."

Dionne winced, "Poor Jeanie... Oh boy, does this suck or what?"

On stage, someone's voice broke out above the rest to sum up what they were all thinking, "What the fuck?"

Another voice yelled out, "I was singing!"

A third chorused, "Where's the fuse box?"

At this point, the audience started to catch on and Berger started to laugh, "Holy shit... I think this is part of the show, guys!"

As though to confirm Berger's guess, a fourth voice yelled from the stage, "Nah, the whole city went dead."

The entire cast then shouted, "New York City blackout!!"

The audience erupted in laughter. Most of them were old enough to remember the great blackout of '65. Claude sure did. It had been almost exactly a year before he met Berger and the Tribe. He'd still been living at home, going to school like a good little automaton. And that night... it had been one of the few times in his youth that his family had spent any actual quality time together. Gentled by the darkness and buoyed by the candlelight, he and his parents had spent hours just sitting around and talking... sharing stories. And in the glow of the firelight, his parents had seemed different. He could almost grasp that these bitter older people had once been young... had once been like him... had once had dreams of their own. Of course, he'd lost that understanding in the bright fluorescent light of the next day. Looking back, he had to wonder how his life might have been different if he'd been able to look past his own nose long enough to maintain that connection...

Forcing his attention back to the stage, he heard "Berger" saying, "Man... I'm bummed. Where's Claude?"

"Sheila's" immediate response was, "He's all right! I'm sure of it." You got the impression that she'd given that response fairly often recently. The bright light of a score of flashlights started illuminating various spots around the stage.

"Woof's" voice rang out, "He should have burned his draft card at the be-in..."

"Berger" apparently, had heard that response once too often, "Yeah. Three days I looked for him, man. Three days. All over the city like a maniac." Claude was unsurprised to find Berger's hand in his halfway through that statement, gripping tightly. He remembered those days. He'd spent them in a drugged out fugue, numb to the world around him, caught in an ever-widening spiral of horrified disbelief as he realized... no matter what he did, this was going to happen. He was going to Viet Nam... and he was going to die. He'd been so terrified of disappointing his father that he couldn't even see the obvious way out that had been staring him in the face. And he hadn't even considered what his absence must have done to his friends.

Before he could even open his mouth, however, Berger's lips found his in the darkness. It was a moment's thought to take advantage of that darkness to engage in a more thorough kiss than they would have dared otherwise. When he leaned back, Berger whispered, "Forgiven, forgotten, Claudio. All this was over years ago. OK? How about we stop apologizing for every little thing this play brings to mind and just each think of something..." Claude could clearly hear the smirk in his lover's voice, "...nice to do for each other later, OK?"

Claude huffed out a laugh, "OK."

Sheila poked him in the side, "Hey... what about me? You gonna do something nice for me, too?"

Before either of them had a chance to answer, Georgie's voice whispered harshly from behind them, "Oh my G-d, Mom! I can't believe you just said that. I'm so telling Dad!"

At that, and Sheila's resultant horrified spluttering, Berger and Claude dissolved into laughter. Georgie huffed, "Yeah, I had a feeling you guys all forgot we were back here. Now would you just shut up? Some us are trying to watch the show, you know."

Chastised and contrite, the three did so just in time to catch "Jeanie's" suggestion that they conjure "Claude." Claude leaned over to Berger, "Holy crap... did she really do that?"

Before Berger could answer, however, Kelly and Georgie kicked their seats from behind. This time it was Kelly that hissed, "Seriously, guys! Shut up!" Then leaning over to Georgie, she whispered, "Jesus, it's worse than having kids!"

Cheeks flaming, Claude and Berger hunched down in their seats as Georgie added, "Yeah, well at least your dad is behaving. My mom's as bad as they are! I tell you... I'm embarrassed." At those words, Sheila hunched down, too.

Fortunately, by then, Cloud was back on stage and the lights were back on. "Hud" stepped forward and put a hand on his shoulder, "Claude, baby... how are you?"

Before he had a chance to answer, however, "Berger" stepped into the silence with an accusatory, "Yeah. Where you been, man?"

Their eyes met in silent communion, a world of apology and explanation passing between them in that one glance. Eventually, Cloud explained that he'd been to 39 Whitehall Street. What ensued was a greatly exaggerated version of what Claude had once explained to Jeanie as what he wished he'd done that day. When it was over, "Berger" asked quietly, eyes knowing, "Was that how it was?"

Cloud ducked his eyes, figure hunching in on himself as he miserably shook his head. Before anyone else could ask a question, though, his head shot up, an almost fatalistic desperation in his eyes. Claude remembered that feeling, all too well.

"I was out in the jungle... meditating. I went so deep inside myself... I even cleaned my room! I'm giving some stuff away..." Even though the audience laughed, Claude felt his stomach take another little swoop at that line. He remembered... oh, how he remembered. He'd brought those things to the Tribe, certain that he was going to leave them... certain that he was going to die... and needing them to have a piece of himself to hold onto for when he was gone.

Everyone on stage was caught up in the gift giving... everyone but one significant person. With each passing thing that was given away, "Berger's" face fell further and further. When Cloud gave "Woof" his poster of Mick Jagger, that was the final straw. "Berger" stepped closer, a look of panic on his face, "What... what's up with you, man?" He knew what Cloud was doing... even if the others didn't. But he didn't get an answer to his question. "Woof" had stolen the limelight, gladly expounding on his love for Mick Jagger.

Desperate, in his own way, to focus on something other than what was going on on stage, Claude leaned over and waved at Woof. Before he could even ask the question, though, Woof smiled a sheepish grin, "Yes, I still have it, but it's not in my bedroom. He's framed and has a whole wall shrine in my office at the store. Didn't I show you?" At Claude's headshake, he shrugged, "Oops. Next time. It wouldn't be right of me not to grant you visitation rights, after all."

Laughing, Claude leaned back. On stage, Cloud was slapping "Woof" on the back, "You got life, man!" He then went over to "Berger" and wrapped a hand around the back of the other man's neck, "Berger... you got life!" "Berger" took the opportunity to wrap the other boy in a tight hug and slide a leg between his. Claude could only shake his head in resignation. Jeanie hadn't been kidding... Cloud then flung an arm wide and yelled, "I got life, man!"

Apparently, though... a few of the female Tribe members didn't agree. After a little bit of squinting and thinking, Claude finally figured out that the three girls who stepped forward had to be Suzanne, Jackie and June. They pulled three of the black men from the Tribe and started singing a... hmm... less than politically correct song about the merits of black boys. Hud just leaned back in his chair and smiled.

That song then segued into another -- this one led by "Dionne" -- about the merits of white boys. By then the audience was in stitches again. When the song came to a close, "Berger" stepped forward, holding a box that Claude recognized all too well. He groaned, "Oh G-d... we're really doing this, aren't we?"

Berger laughed, "Apparently, so."

Sheila leaned over, "What? Doing what?"

Claude bent his head towards her, keeping his voice down in an effort to not to get yelled at by the kids again, "Jeanie warned me that most of the second act is that freaking bizarre-ass acid trip I took the night before the induction center picked me up."

Sheila's eyes widened, "Oh... boy. That'll be interesting."

Sighing, Claude let his head drop back onto Berger's shoulder, "Yeah... that's one word for it."

They all laughed at "Jeanie's," "As Mary once said... 'Jesus, I'm gettin' stoned.'"

And then... "Berger" gave Cloud that "special" joint. Claude lifted his head long enough to scowl at his lover. Kelly chose that moment to lean forward and tap them on the shoulder, "Hey, Uncle Berger... is this that time that--"

Claude interrupted the question with a, "Yes, Kelly. Now you shush."

As Kelly leaned back, they could both hear Georgie say, "OK, spill. What time was this?"

Kelly giggled, "Well, apparently, Uncle Berger laced that joint with LSD in an effort to freak Uncle Claude out so he'd run away to Canada with him."

Eyes widening, Georgie nodded, "I see..."

Claude sighed as he poked Berger in the ribs, "Yeah, with friends like you, Banana-Berger..."

Back up on stage, the Tribe was simulating a true, full-on Tribal smoke-fest and orgy. Cloud had his head in "Sheila's" lap and "Berger" was settled between his legs, intertwining them with his own. Claude recognized the posture immediately -- he and Berger still sat like that sometimes. "Berger" was leaning over the other man, hair forming a curtain around them both. And in spite of everything else going on on the stage, in spite of the fact that there was some beautiful singing and choreography going on elsewhere... he and Berger only had eyes for their counterparts.

As "Berger" leaned back again, Cloud took another puff of the joint, then reached up to entwine his arms around "Berger's" neck to pull him back down. He then blew some of the smoke up into "Berger's" mouth... then pulled him down for a kiss. Of course... if anyone would have obliged Jeanie in that, it would be Cloud. Next to him, Sheila harrumphed and muttered something to the effect of, "Definitely feeling like chopped liver, here..."

Dionne laughed, "Honey, I think you've been demoted from chopped liver to furniture. Neither of those boys even knows you're there."

Sheila turned to her friend and scowled, "Thanks, Dionne. You're a peach."

As the song wound down, Claude could feel himself tense. He had the misfortune to now remember this trip in exquisite detail and had no real desire to see it brought to life in front of him on stage. As the sound of helicopters and gunfire filled the theatre, he couldn't help but jump, then bury his face in Berger's shoulder. Berger pulled him closer, immediately raising his hands to help Claude cover his ears. Not long, not long, not long...

When he felt Berger's chest move in a small snort, he raised his head. Seeing that they were now safely into the George Washington segment, he pulled away from Berger a bit. Sheila was snickering next to him, "I'm George Washington? Jesus, Claude... what the hell?"

Groaning, Claude just shook his head, "Oh... it gets worse. Berger's Ulysses S. Grant, Woof was Scarlet O'Hara, Jeanie was General Custer, Abraham Lincoln was a black woman... and I think Aretha Franklin was there, too."

Sheila could only giggle in response. Claude shrugged helplessly and waved her attention back to the stage. He had to admit... the opening scenes of that trip were actually pretty funny. Unbelievably fucked up... but funny. Looking back, he could certainly see the amusement. Judging from the smattering of giggles around the theatre, so could everyone else.

It wasn't until the soldiers came back that things took a turn again for the worse. Claude remembered that... remembered it all too well. With the faces of unfamiliar soldiers interspersed with those of his friends, all grasping, pulling, pushing, raking at him... he'd really believed himself to be dying. Almost funny... at that moment when he'd been most terrified, he'd called out for Berger, some part of him still desperately hoping that his friend could somehow make all of this better.

As the scene drifted up out of his trip to focus on the Tribe again, he noticed that Cloud was supine on the ground, "Berger" sprawled on top of him, no doubt trying to protect him even then. Berger leaned over, "Oh, man, Claude... I had no idea it was that bad... I'm sorry, man."

Claude gripped his hand tighter, "It's OK. Forgiven, forgotten, right, Banana-Berger?"

He shook his head, "But it isn't." At Claude's raised eyebrow, he flushed, "You flashback on this trip, sometimes, Claudio. I've seen it. You can't say 'forgiven, forgotten' if you can't forget it."

Letting out a heavy sigh, Claude shook his head, "Well, definitely forgiven, anyway, all right? I understand why you did it and that's good enough for me. Besides... it wasn't all bad. The bit with Abraham Lincoln was pretty damned funny, actually."

As the Tribe finished their songs about the war, the scene faded back into Claude's drug trip with a gentle song based off Shakespeare: "What A Piece of Work is Man." Ironically enough... in spite of how terrified and freaked out he'd been through the rest of the trip, Claude remembered... this was the part that had actually broken him. Halfway through Paris and Maya's recitation of that poetry, he'd finally broken down and cried. It was the first time since he'd disappeared from the Tribe three days earlier that he'd truly been able to feel something. That moment of beauty had broken through the numbness -- ironically, what Berger had probably been aiming for the whole time. As Cloud curled up on the ground sobbing, the scene rose up out of his trip for the last time.

The rest of the Tribe clustered in around him. "Woof," "Sheila" and "Jeanie" were at his back, stroking his hips and legs. "Berger" had Cloud's head in his lap and was cradling him, gently stroking his hair. They'd known something was wrong... they'd always known. And that night... for that one brief moment, when he'd first woken up out of that horrific trip surrounded and cradled in the comforting arms of those he loved... he'd never in his life felt so safe. It almost made the rest of it worth it. Of course, it couldn't last.

Cloud stretched, face a moue of unhappiness, before jerking awake the rest of the way and pulling away from the Tribe. "Berger" kept a hand on him, sheltering him even though he clearly no longer wanted it. Once he saw that Cloud was well and truly awake, though, he backed off. Their gazes met, again sharing a world of communication in that one look. Cloud's eyes filled with hurt betrayal, "Oh my G-d... what did you put in that joint?"

Finally understanding that he'd fucked up, in spite of having been trying to do the right thing, "Berger" retreated behind his wall of joking behavior, "Face reality... Shakespeare."

And that had been it. That had been the moment when Claude realized that he could no longer live like Berger did. That no one could live like Berger did... not even Berger. This... it wasn't a way to live. It was a way to die. And if Berger's way would kill him... and his father's way would kill him... and he had no other way to follow... then that was it. That was the moment that he knew, with absolute certainty, that he was trapped... that there would be no way out for him. No matter which way he turned, he was going to die. He'd tried to tell Berger that that night. But for the first time in a long time, it had been like they were speaking two completely different languages. Berger couldn't understand him and he couldn't understand Berger. It was like someone had taken the other man away from him... and he'd never in his life felt so bereft.

It was strange, really. In a way, they'd both gotten what they wanted that night. Berger had wanted to stay high -- and he had. For 12 years he'd been high, lost to drugs and madness. And Claude... he'd wanted to be invisible. And he had been. Torn away from all of his friends, invisible in his own life, invisible in his own mind... for 12 years, he'd ceased to exist. But there had been no beauty in that, no miracles. No joy.

Reaching out, his hand found Berger's, squeezing tightly, grounding them both in the present. This was reality. Berger wasn't high and he wasn't invisible. They were here and they were known and seen. It was better... far better than anything else he could have ever wanted. Suddenly, in spite of the desperate drama unfolding in front of them on stage... Claude smiled. He couldn't seem to stop grinning. Berger caught the expression and frowned, "What... Claudio? You OK?"

Claude pulled Berger's hand closer, planting a gentle kiss on the palm. With a soft laugh, he nodded, "Yeah... I'm OK, Berger. I'm better than OK." He understood now. He finally understood again, what he'd grasped so briefly at the very beginning. Everything else... getting tenure, Viet Nam, the rift with his parents... the necessity of money... none of it mattered. Absolutely none of it. The only thing that mattered... was Berger. Berger and the Tribe. If he had them, that was all he needed. They made him visible. They made him real. They kept him warm at night and made him feel safe. It had taken him almost 20 years and Jeanie's unique sense of vision to see it... but now he understood. And he wasn't going to forget again.

He turned Berger's palm to lay it flat against his chest, right over his heartbeat, and cradled it to him with one hand. Lifting the other, he laid it against Berger's cheek and smiled into the other man's eyes. On stage, Cloud was asking "Sheila" to marry him. And in his silent gaze, Claude was returning to Berger the same question... and at the same time affirming Berger's own answer from earlier that day. Someday... Someday we will. It didn't matter anymore, why Berger had initially tried to push him at Sheila. It didn't matter anymore, who else he'd loved or who else had loved him. And as easy as that... watching the remainder of the show was no longer painful. It was beautiful. Because no matter what else it meant... every single one of those events, piled on each other, had brought him to this moment. This moment when he had everything that he had ever wanted... and was happier than he had ever thought he could be.

And suddenly, Berger was too far away. Tugging on the other man's hand, he dragged them both onto the floor. Understanding what he wanted without being asked, Berger leaned back against the bottom of his seat and spread his legs so that Claude could sit between them. He then cradled him back against his chest, allowing Claude to tuck his head under the other man's chin while Berger wrapped his arms tightly around him. They might no longer have a perfect view... but Claude couldn't have cared less if he tried.

Up on stage, Cloud and "Berger" were unconsciously mirroring what they were doing on the floor. Cloud was on his knees, holding "Sheila's" hand and "Berger" was bent over, arms wrapped tightly around Cloud with his head buried in Cloud's stomach... holding on for dear life. Of course... he'd known back then. He'd known then that he was going to lose him. That's why he'd been so clingy the rest of that night... Even though he knew it would mean nothing, some part of Claude still wanted to reassure that man... that someday, it would all be better. Someday...

It was easier now, to find the smiles for what was going on onstage. The moment "Sheila" walked away from the pair, they tumbled down onto the floor of the stage, rolling around with each other and lazily making out. Berger leaned down and whispered in his ear, "You know, Claudio... that doesn't seem like such a bad idea..."

Claude huffed out a quiet laugh and turned his head upwards to plant an open-mouthed kiss on the underside of Berger's chin. Then he patted one of the arms wrapped so tightly around him, "Much as I agree... I think Jeanie really would kill us. There'll be time later, OK?" Berger grumbled at him, but settled down.

On stage, "Berger" told Cloud that they were going to smuggle him up to Canada after the protest. Cloud put on a smile for him, but the minute that "Berger" engulfed him in that hug, tucking his head over Cloud's shoulder... Cloud's expression deadened again. He knew he wasn't going to Canada. He wasn't going to Canada... he wasn't going to the protest. When this night was over, he was going to the induction center... he was going to Viet Nam... and he was going to die. Claude could almost see it as the numbness settled in again.

As they raised him up for the reprise of "Ain't Got No," Claude almost laughed. With everything that was going on... not only had Cloud remembered to change his social security number again... he'd changed it to the same numbers. As impressed as he'd been with everything else the boy had done tonight, that he'd remembered that little detail, after everything... well, damn. That was a miracle.

Cloud disappeared somehow from the middle of the group as they started up the protest scene. "Berger"... he looked awfully distracted, though. Claude frowned. It almost looked like the man was forgetting his lines, forgetting where he was supposed to stand. He kept bumping into people, weaving around as though drunk. It wasn't until he heard Berger's indrawn breath behind him and felt his arms tighten around him that he understood. That broken, lost look... that was scripted. Eventually, his pacing growing ever more frantic, "Berger" yelled out, "Sheila!!"

She stepped forward, grabbing at his hands, "I'm right here, Berger!"

He yanked his hands out of hers, almost angrily, "Where the hell were you? I can't find Claude!" Before she could open her mouth to reassure him with her own empty words, "Berger" broke away from her and screamed out, "Claude! Claude!!"

Behind him, Berger started to shake. Claude couldn't blame him. The kid was an unbelievable actor -- he could almost hear Berger's soul breaking in his voice. So, he did the only thing he could do. He laced the fingers of his right hand with Berger's, then took Berger's left hand and slid it under his shirt to rest against his heartbeat. Silently, he added, I'm here, Berger. I'm real. Me. He waited one heartbeat... two heartbeats... three heartbeats... and finally, Berger relaxed, burying his face in the nape of Claude's neck. Claude couldn't even find it within himself to complain as Berger lightly clamped his teeth around that spot on Claude's neck that he so loved. Whatever the other man needed to stay grounded... within reason... he could have.

On stage, Cloud finally reappeared... dressed in an Army uniform.

"I'm right here!" His voice quieted, almost disappeared altogether, "Like it or not... they got me."

He started singing, eyes dead, voice dark... lost. Several lines into the song, he stopped and yelled, "Berger! I feel like I died!"

It became obvious, right after that, that no one on that stage could see him. He was invisible, just like he'd wanted. And "Berger"... he was devastated. He yelled out again, "Claude! Claude!!"

Cloud ran over to him, reached out to touch him... and then seemed to realize that he couldn't. He'd never be able to again. A smile graced his lips at that moment... and there was nothing left of sanity in it, "If I am invisible... then I can perform miracles! There is nothing else I want to do on this dirt!" In counterpoint to his increasingly insane ramblings, were "Berger's" continued desperate cries of his name, now echoed by the rest of the Tribe.

Eyes desolate, Cloud sang a refrain of "Manchester, England," running back over to "Berger's" now hunched form to hover around him... so close, but not touching. Never touching again. As that refrain drew to a close, the much longed for snow finally began to fall... and "Sheila" picked up the verse that Cloud had come out singing. The Tribe closed ranks around him, hiding him once again from view.

"Berger" looked even more lost. He missed the men's entrance as they shifted to the next song, then shook himself and tried again. A few words in, he choked and bit his lip, clearly trying to hold back tears. Behind him, Berger's teeth tightened on his neck, his left hand roaming almost desperately across his chest, his right sliding their joined hands under his thigh to give him leverage to pull Claude closer. Instead of protesting, Claude merely slid his left hand behind him to grip Berger's side and help draw them closer. It was impossible for him to miss the trembling in the other man's body. All he could do, though... was hold on.

And sure enough... as the Tribe began to disperse, each leaving the stage and filing funereally out the back doors... there was Cloud. Laying out flat on the stage on an American flag, arms crossed over his chest... at peace, at last. The stage went dark.

For a minute, there wasn't a single sound in that theatre but Berger's harsh breathing in his ear. Unable to stand another minute of his lover's silent suffering, Claude tore himself out of Berger's embrace and turned to straddle his lap. Once he had Berger's full attention, he joined their lips, silently urging his partner to take the offered bait. The other man's lips were lax against his for a moment, then he finally... finally seemed to come back to life and crushed Claude to him in a desperate embrace, plunging his tongue into the other man's mouth to twine with his own. Claude all but melted against him in pure relief.

Then, just when things were starting to get interesting... the band struck up a rousing reprise of the title song and the stage lights went back up full. Berger and Claude guiltily jumped away from each other, each silently wondering if Jeanie had seen them... and done that on purpose. Cheeks flaming, Claude climbed back into his seat, Berger beside him.

The Tribe came back out onstage to accept the now resounding applause and to direct said applause to the band. But... where was Cloud? It took another moment but when he came back out, the reason for his delay was obvious -- he'd changed clothes again, back into his jeans and long-sleeved shirt and back into his original hairstyle. He raced out onto the stage and leapt at a beaming "Berger," and Sheila-style, wrapped his legs around the other man's waist and bent his head for a kiss. Trauma finally firmly averted, Berger jumped to his feet at that and let out a whooping cheer. The rest of the audience leapt to their feet cheering right along with him.

When the two lead actors finally broke apart, the cast broke into a rousing reprise of the chorus from the title song... and then started clambering down into the audience. And sure enough, they were dragging people back onto the stage with them! Jeanie had also made her way out from backstage and was dancing with "herself," hair flying wild and an expression of joyous abandon on her face. Cloud leaned over to whisper something in "Berger's" ear, then grinning wildly at each other, they both dropped down off the stage into the front row.

Dionne, Hud, Sheila, Woof and Crissy had gotten up on stage and found Jeanie, as had all of the kids, leaving Claude and Berger alone with their doppelgangers. Cloud had an arm wrapped around his Berger as they walked over. When they got to the other pair, Cloud waved an arm at them, "Adam, these are the two I wanted you to meet."

The other Berger -- whose name was apparently Adam -- grinned widely at them, "Oh... 'Mom' and her make-out buddy! Man, I gotta say... you two were putting out enough heat that we could feel it onstage! Once or twice it almost felt like we were in a competition with you guys!"

Cloud laughed as Claude's face flushed again, "Yeah... they've been known to do that on occasion."

Berger just wrapped his arms around Claude and offered them a beaming grin, "Can you blame me?" Eyes twinkling, he nodded his head at the other two men, "Besides, you seem to have an equally hard time keeping your hands off your Claude."

Adam blinked, confused, "My Claude?" He whipped a quick look at Cloud, then back to the other men, "His name is Claude, too?"

Cloud smirked, then finally introduced them, "Adam... you remember how I told you once that this show is based on a true story?" At Adam's nod, he said, "Well... these are the real Claude and Berger. And yes, those are their real names."

Adam's mouth dropped open, "Holy shit, for real??"

Berger just grinned, "So when you decided that I was your mom, you had no clue?"

Adam shook his head. Then his eyes widened, "Oh! Oh, man... what about the two cool chicks from the beginning of the show?"

Claude smiled, "Crissy and Sheila."

Adam's mouth broke into a beaming smile and he looked like a little kid in a candy store, "For real, man? Then... then the others in the front row?"

Cloud nodded, "Woof was next to Crissy and Hud and Dionne were next to Sheila."

Abruptly, Adam frowned, "Wait... then where was Jeanie?"

Cloud laughed, "You mean you never figured that out?" Jeanie chose that moment to lean over and grab Claude and Berger's hands to pull them up on stage with everyone else. Once that was accomplished, leaving Cloud and Adam alone, Cloud cupped the other boy's face and planted a gentle kiss on his lips, "Jeanie is our dear writer and director, Ms. Ryan... and my mother."

"Your... mother??"

"Yep! You are looking at the now grown and proud character of 'Jeanie's baby bump!'"

Adam burst out laughing, "Oh man... that's just awesome. I can't believe-- huh?" Looking over his shoulder at the tall brown-haired boy that had just tapped him, he arched an eyebrow, "Can I help you?"

Zack just frowned, "Yeah... you can." Ignoring it as Cloud started snickering, he said, "First off, the show's over except for the dancing, so you can kindly take your grabby hands off my boyfriend." Eyes widening and face flushing with embarrassment, Adam did exactly that. Zack just smiled at the ready compliance as he pulled Cloud into his own arms. Once the other boy was secure, he held out a hand to Adam, "Second, my name is Zack. And much as I don't care to admit it... you guys had some unbelievable chemistry up there." As Adam gingerly shook his hand, Zack added, "So, I'll also thank you to take good care of him for me while I'm away at school. Deal?"

Eyes still shocked, Adam could only nod. Cloud grumped good-naturedly, "Fabulous. Now, if you two are done bartering my virtue between you, we're missing all the dancing!"

At that urging, the other two men sighed, then smiled. Between them, they bodily lifted Cloud back up onto the stage, to rousing applause, then climbed up after him. The original Tribe was surrounded by the new Tribe, joyfully sharing their identities with their alter-egos. The cast Tribe was ecstatic, thrilled beyond belief that the rumor they'd heard of the "true" origins of the story were... well... true. As the audience started filtering out of the theatre, Jeanie only reluctantly started pulling them apart to send them out to the stage door to go sign autographs. As she pulled each one away, another would make their way back to ask "just one more question." Finally she threw up her hands in disgust and exclaimed, "It's like trying to herd a flock of demented sheep!"

Claude laughed, then put his fingers to his lips and let out a piercing whistle. Silence immediately fell. He put on a stern face and, in his best teacher voice, said, "That's enough out of all of you! You are professionals. You have a job to do. Go do it for Christ's sake!" Then with a gentle smile, he added, "We'll still be here when you get done. You can ask your questions then." The cast let out a resounding cheer and all but stampeded off the stage.

Once they'd all gone, the original Tribe burst out laughing. Crissy wiped a few tears from her eyes, "My G-d... were we ever that energetic?"

A voice rang out from the back of the theatre in answer, "My sweet little sugar plum fairy... you were the worst of all of us!"

The Tribe on stage turned towards the new voice as one and Crissy let out a piercing shriek of pure joy as she leapt off the stage and bounded down the aisle, "Angela!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

The other woman caught her and swung her around in a tight embrace, laughing right along with her. To her left, Suzanne raised her voice over the sounds of that joyous reunion, "And let me speak for this half of the Tribe... we have a few very strong words to say to the rest of you about not being told that Claude wasn't dead and that Berger's clearly no longer insane! What the hell, people?"

It was almost too much to take in. They were all there! Angela, Suzanne, Walter, Jackie, Paris and Maya... Nicole, Anthony, Ellen and June... Everyone! Surprising just about everyone else, Claude let out his own whoop and leapt from the stage to race up the aisle, too. Berger was hot on his heels. The two halves of the Tribe met in a great crash in the middle of the theatre, each person trying to raise their voice to be heard above the others as reunion after joyous reunion took place.

Jeanie started trying to get everyone's attention and when it became clear that she wasn't going to get it any time soon, she tugged on Claude's sleeve. With an understanding smile, he borrowed a trick from Cloud and Adam and climbed up onto the arms of one of the seats, then let loose with another piercing whistle. Once he had everyone's attention, he smiled and waved at Jeanie, "I believe Ms. Ryan has something she would like to say."

"Well... ask is more like it." All eyes turned towards her and Jeanie flushed, "How the hell did you guys all end up here tonight? Was there some message sent out on the astral plane that I didn't know about?"

Most of the Tribe started laughing while Jackie rolled her eyes, "We can read, Jeanie. Those of us that get the newspaper saw the blurbs for your show and just knew it was about us. We each told everyone that we were still in contact with and whoever doesn't live in New York anymore made plans to come back for the premiere. You honestly thought there was a chance in hell we'd miss an opportunity like this?"

Jeanie shook her head, for once, too overcome for words. Instead, she looked up at Woof and made a wild, incomprehensible gesture. Woof smiled sheepishly in response and ducked his head, "I... might have had some idea. Oh!" Abruptly, he jerked his head up to find Claude, "Speaking of which... Claude, you're gonna want to duck your head out by the stage door. There's someone out there that you're going to want to talk to."

So used to following such vague directions that he didn't even question it, Claude found himself outside before he even realized what he was doing. The cast members were filing their way back in, finally done with autographs and Polaroids, and the crowd was thinning. And through that slowly dispersing crowd, he saw a petite, blond head, frantically searching for someone that she didn't seem to be finding... someone she'd come halfway across the country to find. Damn you, Woof. A warning would have been nice.

Feeling like the wind had been knocked out of him, Claude could barely get his voice to work enough to say the one word he needed to... but it was enough and she heard it, turning towards him with a look of heartbreaking relief on her face. And that one word?

"Mom..."

A/N:

And... some extended chibi silliness, because I'm feeling, well... silly. ^_^

Claude: I give up.

R-chan: *sweatdrop* Well, the discussion you had with your mom was originally in this chapter, but it was too short and it felt rushed and contrived and Ididn'tlikeit! *huffs*

Claude: O_O *edges away* Well... if you felt the need to extend it, I suppose that's all right... But can I at least get a heads-up about how she's gonna react?

R-chan: *crosses arms over chest* That would be cheating.

Claude: *holds up hands in warding gesture* You know, you're quite right. How about I just leave you alone, now?

R-chan: *narrows eyes* You're being awfully agreeable all of a sudden... what's going on?

Berger: *wanders out from the other room with a bed sheet wrapped around his hips* Claudio... I thought you said you wouldn't be long. What's the hold up, man?

R-chan: *rae* I see... *eg*

Claude: *blush*

R-chan: *coughs politely* Well, far be it for me to keep you... I'm sure you're both a little frustrated after last chapter...

Claude: *blushes more*

Berger: *smirk* Gotta give you props, lady -- you were right about this one, too.

R-chan: ^________^

Claude: *twitch* You... you weren't as traumatized as you were acting, were you?

Berger: *sheepish grin* *shrugs*

Claude: *doubletwitch* I knew it!

Berger: *eg* Can you blame me?

Claude: *sighs* I guess not... Aw, fuck it. *grabs Berger's hand and starts to drag him off*

Berger: *pause* Wait... I thought you were gonna ask about your Mom...?

Claude: O_O You know what... she's gonna do what she wants regardless of what we say and if she's gonna do something nasty, I at least wanna have sex first.

Berger: *cheers* Now, that is my kind of logic! Let's go! *drags Claude off into the bedroom*

R-chan: *chuckles* Well... that worked out awfully nicely for me... *cracks knuckles* Now to go tackle Chapter 6!

Questions, comments, strawberries?

Berger: *snickers* Cloud...?

Cloud: *tosses over the whipped cream*

Zack: Hey! We needed that!

Cloud: *holds up second can*

Zack: *settles* Oh. Well. OK, then.

Coming Soon: And... I don't have a summary, because part 6 isn't written yet. O_O