Chapter One

Lauren was standing in the kitchen, staring down at the tea she'd just steeped, tears falling across her cheeks. She leaned against the counter, bracing her weight with her splayed palms and closed her eyes. The house was silent except for the sounds of Igby and Nacho panting as they lay on the cool tile. Neither of them understood Nick's absence; although Lauren could've sworn Nacho had been looking for him under the bed the first night he'd been gone. At this point though, nearly a month had gone by, and they'd both stopped anxiously waiting for him. A part of her wondered if either of them remembered Nick at all.

She carried her tea into the living room and lowered herself into the sofa, curling her legs under herself. Igby jumped up next to her and licked her knee absently before twisting into a ball beside her and Nacho stretched out on the carpet in front of her. The TV flickered through the dark room, casting a blue-green hue on the walls and turning Lauren's face pale. The sound was off, and the silence permeated the room, so thick that it was a bit like being underwater. Lauren clutched the mug to her mouth and took a sip of the tea.

A knock on the door distrupted the silence. Nacho leaped to his feet and bolted out of the living room barking, his feet scrabbling across the wood floor all the way to the front door. Igby looked up, his ears perked, and Lauren struggled to her feet out of the couch, leaving the tea on the coffee table. Igby shuffled to look over the arm of the sofa towards the foyer. Nacho was bouncing off the front door when Lauren got there and she hoisted him up to her hip, which was more of a feat than it sounds since he'd put on a considerable amount of weight since they'd gotten him almost two years ago now. She peeked out the window beside the door to see who was on the step before swinging it open.

"Rochelle?" Lauren's voice registered surprise as she stepped back so that Rochelle could come into the house. Tears were staining Ro's face, and she looked at Lauren with an air of misery about her. "What's the matter, sweetie?" Lauren bent down and dropped Nacho to the floor after closing the door.

Ro looked at Lauren and she burst into tears, "I think AJ and I are getting a divorce."

"What? Why?" Nacho stood a couple feet away, surveying the situation, unsure if he wanted to trust that Rochelle wasn't a burgler.

"I've been trying so hard to deal with it," Ro started, "I know it's because he's worried about Nick, but he's been so sharp-mouthed toward me, and he's been acting so strangely..." she hesitated. "He went out drinking tonight with some guys I've never met before. I went to get him to make him come home and he cussed me out. He treated me like shit." Her voice broke.

Lauren scowled. "He's drinking?" she asked.

Rochelle nodded.

Lauren ran a hand through her hair, "Nick would be so pissed."

"Don't tell him," Rochelle requested.

Lauren waved Rochelle into the living room. "Do you want tea?"

"No," Ro replied. "I just didn't want to go home to that big house all alone. I don't want to be there when he gets home and has his stupid morning hangover. I don't want to hear him telling me he's sorry." They settled onto the sofa and Igby lay back down between them. Nacho hovered uneasily a few feet away, studying Rochelle still. The TV flickered over ads for knives and mixers. "How is Nick anyways?" Rochelle asked.

Lauren sighed, "Same as he was yesterday and the day before..." she picked up her tea and stared into it. "There's no donors yet."

Rochelle stared at Igby for a long moment as he curled his nose under his back paw. "I'm sorry," she said. "I wish things were going better for us," she added. "For all of us."

"Me, too," Lauren answered.

Lauren's cell phone suddenly broke the silence, making both girls jump in surprise. Igby groaned and got off the sofa and stretched out in the space under the coffee table. Nacho was up and alert again, ears twitching, tiny ruff...ruff barks coming out of the back of his throat as he looked around for the perp. Lauren grabbed the phone and an expression of horror slipped onto her face. "It's the hospital," she trembled. She shoved the phone at Rochelle. Phone calls from the hospital at two o'clock in the morning were not friendly how-do-you-do calls. Lauren's hand shook, "I can't. I can't." Her voice broke and her eyes flooded.

Rochelle took the phone and answered it. "Hello?"

In the second between the hello and the moment when there came a response, Rochelle took a quick inventory of the scene, burning it into her memory. This, she thought, was a night that would never die away from her memory. It would haunt her forever.

"Rochelle?"

She let out a breath of relief, a quick reprimand to her mind for the morbid thought she'd had in the second, and held the phone to Lauren. "It's Nick," she said.

Lauren's fingers grabbed for the phone and she gasped out, "Nickolas, you scared the bejesus out of me."

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. His voice was raspy, quiet.

As much as she hated how weakened and pained he sounded, Lauren couldn't help but be comforted at the sound of his voice, however different it sounded. "It's okay. I'm glad you called. Are you okay? What's the matter?"

Nick's breath carried through the phone line. Lauren closed her eyes. Last time he'd called her during the night, he'd been getting worse. "Dr. Carroll was just here," he said quietly.

"And?" Lauren felt goosebumps along her arms.

"And she said there's -- there's a possible donor."

Lauren's heart stopped with excitement. She opened her eyes again -wide- and met Rochelle's eyes, her jaw dropping. "Really?" she gasped.

"Yeah," Nick replied, "They're working on contacting his family but if they sign the form I could have a new heart by tomorrow."

"Oh my God," Lauren's hands shook with glee. The nightmare was finally going to be finished. She could scarcely believe it. "I'm so happy," she said thickly.

"Can you come down?" he asked. "Please?"

"I'm on my way." Lauren leaped up off the couch, kicking into her sneakers. Rochelle followed suit and the two girls ran across the yard to Rochelle's car. It smelled like AJ and Rochelle made a mental note that, if they were really getting a divorce, she'd have to buy air fresheners to get that scent out of there.

Lauren's voice shook. "Can you believe it?" she asked.

"It's a miracle," Rochelle agreed, backing down the driveway to the street.

Lauren wrung her hands nervously as the headlights pierced the darkness before them. She glanced at Rochelle. "Is it wrong -- am I going to Hell because I prayed for someone else to die so that Nick could live?" she asked.

Rochelle shook her head.

"I feel a little guilty, being so happy when somewhere there's someone that's lost their world," Lauren commented.

Rochelle took a deep breath, "Everything happens for a reason."

"Everything?" Lauren asked.

Rochelle nodded. "Everything. It's like the farmers. The one that needed rain because his crops were too dry and the one that couldn't have rain or else his crops would drown and they both have circumstances in their lives that mean the crops are terribly important and they're both praying and God can't answer one without destroying the other," she shrugged. "It's like that."

Lauren drew a deep breath. "Where'd you hear that one?"

"Brian told Alex it once," Rochelle shrugged.

The car was headed down the freeway. The sky glowed from the city's lights. In Rochelle's purse, her phone rang. She dug it out with one hand and shoved it into Lauren's palm. "Here," she said, "It's probably my son of a bitch husband calling to apologize," she said, rolling her eyes.

Lauren glanced at the caller ID.

"It's the hopsital," she said.

"Maybe it's Nick. He knows I'm with you," Rochelle suggested.

"Oh that's true," Lauren replied, clicking the answer button. "Hey sweetie," she said as a greeting. She pictured Nick's confused face pulling the phone back to look at what numbered he dialed.

"Hello, Mrs. McLean?"

"Uh --" Lauren pulled the phone back, confused as she'd imagined Nick being the moment before. "No, no. Wait. Who is this?"

"My name is Dr. Elizabeth Carroll. Is Mrs. McLean available?"

"She's driving," Lauren said.

"I need to speak to her," Dr. Elizabeth Carroll responded.

Lauren felt her blood turn to ice. She looked at Rochelle, who was sneaking glances at her between glances back at the road. "Pull over," she said.

Chapter Two

Nick lay in his hospital bed, staring up at the ceiling. He could feel his heart beating irregularly in his chest, could feel the machines doing their work, keeping him alive, keeping his blood pumping correctly. He held the oxygen mask to his face and felt his eyes drooping heavily. It was hard to believe after all this time waiting and worrying, he was finally going to have a new heart. He wondered what it was like, having a new heart, if he'd be able to feel the difference of it in his chest. He let his eyes slip closed.

The door opened and he peeked and saw Lauren standing in the doorway. She looked... he couldn't place what she looked. Something akin to panic rested in her eyes, although it was muted panic. She walked quietly across the room and took hold of his hand. She smiled down at him. "Hey," she whispered. He could feel her hands shaking.

Nick lowered the oxygen mask from his face. His lips were all cracked and dry and he had a strange pale-purple tint to him. Lauren bent down and kissed his forehead. "Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yes," Lauren said, "I'm just happy to see you."

Nick smiled, and took a few breaths from the oxygen mask, staring up at her. He knew she'd been worried about him - everyone had been, he'd gotten thousands of cards from fans wishing him well. "A new heart," he said happily.

Lauren's eyes closed for a moment, like she was trying to restrain emotion, then she smiled and nodded, "Yeah," she whispered. "A new heart."

Nick squeezed her hand. "I get to stay livin' with you baby," he said, chuckling weakly. "You can't get rid of me this easy."

"You call this easy?" Lauren joked.

Nick smiled and pressed the mask to his face. "Maybe not easy," he said, muffled by the mask. He stared up into her eyes. "I love you, Lauren," he said.

"I love you," she replied.

"I'm so happy," he said through the mask. His eyes started to drift closed again. "Aren't you happy?" he whispered.

"As the second farmer," whispered Lauren, sitting on a chair pulled up beside Nick's bed and resting her head against his shoulder, "The one who got the right answer." She closed her eyes, too, and listened to the beeping of the heart monitor.


-----


Rochelle sat on a chair pulled up beside a bed, too. She reached out a shaking hand and took hold of his hands. They were cold. She felt like she was going to vomit. She let go quickly and stood up, stepping away. She turned her back, stared at the wall for a long moment. She closed her eyes. This was a nightmare, it had to be. There was no way that this much was happening this fast. She drew a deep breath. When she turned around, she coached herself, this was all going to be a lie and she'd notice something about this random stranger that would prove it wasn't him, that it wasn't right, that he was still out partying somewhere, that she could still be mad at him because there was a him to be mad at.

She turned around and her eyes landed on the half word printed on his left hand. Mon. She looked down at her own hand. Kee.

An unexpected thrill of anger coursed through her. "You asshole," she hissed. "You stupid... stupid asshole..." she moved over to the bed and sat down again, "How dare you do this. How dare you do this now." She closed her eyes and hot tears fell across her face. "I told you not to follow me, but you don't ever listen. I hope those God damn Jager bombs and blondes were worth it, you ass." She muttered. She folded down so her face was pressed into her palms. Her tears pooled in the lines of her hand. She looked back up at him. She'd half expected him to wake up, to argue with her, to try to apologize or explain himself.

He just lay there.

"How dare you die," she whispered.

The word was hot against her lips and she stood up and paced around the room again. She suddenly felt ridiculous, talking to him like this. She also felt guilty. Guilty for saying angry words at this, the last moment she'd ever see him. She paused, looking back at him from across the room. He looked small. She stepped over to the bed and stared down at him again, her eyes rolling across the features of his face - across his nose, his closed eyes with their super thick eyelashes...

She reached a shaking hand up and lay it across his cheek. "Alex," she whispered, her voice breaking. A fresh wave of tears slipped over the curve of her face and she felt like she couldn't draw enough oxygen into her lungs. His chest was still moving up and down, he was still breathing, but only because the machine was preserving him, keeping the organs inside functioning before they went on to save lives.

Rochelle drew a deep breath. "You are --" she paused, struggled, then whispered, "You were the most amazing man I ever knew." She steeled herself for the strange lifeless feeling and took his hand again. She held it so the tattoos spelled out Monkee and leaned down, laying her head on his chest and looking at the word. "I love you," she whispered.


-----


Brian stood in the doorway of Nick's room, and Lauren slid her hand out of Nick's. He was asleep. She stepped into the hallway and pulled the door closed. Brian looked exhausted. Lauren drew a deep breath, "Hey," she said quietly.

"I got here as soon as I could," he said. "Nick said they found a donor?"

Lauren nodded, "Yes." She hesitated, "Have you talked to anyone yet?"

Brian shook his head.

Lauren looked around, "We should find somewhere to sit down," she suggested, her voice trembling.

"Leighanne is waiting over here, come on," Brian replied, and they walked together down the hallway to a small waiting area that they'd commendeered several times since Nick had been in the hospital. The room had a chest with board games that they'd played most of. AJ had written profanity on the Boggle set and left it that way last time they'd sat in there. Lauren felt her throat constrict and led Brian into the waiting room.

Leighanne was drawing a new fashion design on a sketchbook and looked up when they came in the room. "Good morning," she said to Lauren, a weak smile on her face.

Lauren nodded. She and Leighanne had never been close before, but ever since Nick was sick, Leighanne had been making an effort to be kinder to her. Probably because she'd been in Lauren's shoes before as the worried girlfriend.

"They do have a heart for him, right?" Brian asked, his eyes flickering with worry as Lauren sat and rubbed her eyes, letting out a streaming, sigh.

Lauren nodded, "They do." She swallowed. How could she tell him this? She looked Brian in the eyes. "There's... there's just something about the heart that... that I think you need to know."

"What?" Brian asked.

"Rochelle and AJ had a fight tonight," Lauren began. "She found him at a club drinking and partying and they had a fight and she left the club and came to see me..." Leighanne's eyes flickered, widnened, and she reached for Brian's hand.

"Okay," Brian nodded, "They fight all the time. He shouldn't have been drinking, but they fight all the time. What's that got to do with Nick's new heart?"

"Everything," Lauren said.

Chapter Three

When Rochelle walked into the waiting room, she was clutching a plastic bag filled with AJ's things. Her hair was a mess, tears rolling down her cheeks. She stood in the door and looked around at the clusters of couples. Howie and Leigh, Brian and Leighanne, Kevin and Kris. Lauren looked up. Her eyes met Rochelle's briefly before she looked away.

"How's Nick?" Rochelle only just got the words out. Her voice broke halfway through the words, which were barely even a gasp.

Kevin jumped up and walked quickly across the room and wrapped his arms around Rochelle. "Shh, shh," he whispered, and gently guided Rochelle to a seat between himself and Lauren. He put a hand gently on Rochelle's back and rubbed along her spine ently with the heel of his hand, "It's okay," he said quietly.

Rochelle shook her head, "It's not."

Lauren turned to Rochelle and hugged her arm. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

Rochelle moved the bag and a corner of AJ's favorite sweatshirt peeked out. She pressed her face into the folds of the cloth and breathed deeply. It seemed like years and years ago that she'd thought of buying air fresheners to drown out that smell in the car.

"Nick is going to be okay," Kevin said quietly.

Rochelle felt a shiver slide through her. Some horrible, vengeful, deep-down part of her wanted to scream. A part of her wanted to not care about Nick. A part of her whispered that if it wasn't for Nick that AJ would still be alive.

Lauren pressed her cheek again Rochelle's shoulder.

The door opened and Dr. Carroll stepped into the room. She looked around, meeting each of their eyes, then she said slowly - delicately - "I'm about to go in to oversee the harvest surgery." She bit her lip as Rochelle pressed the sweatshirt more closely to her face. "Once Dr. Kent has removed the other organs, he will proceed to remove the heart, and I will transport to OR 2, where I'll be performing the transplant." Dr. Carroll paused.

Kevin squeezed Rochelle closer.

Dr. Carroll took a deep breath. "I'll come out to update you when I can." She backed away, toward the door. "I'm sorry," she stammered.

When the door had closed, Rochelle shot out of her seat. "I can't do this, I'm sorry," her voice broke. "You know I want Nick to be okay but right now I just can't be here, waiting for them to dismantle my husband to put him back together."

Lauren squeaked back a sob and covered her eyes.

Kevin stood, too. "You shouldn't be alone..." he said thickly.

Rochelle shook her head, "I'm fine. I'll be fine."

"We can go with her," Howie suggested, glancing at Leigh, who nodded. Howie swallowed, "It's hard for me to be here, too, right now."

Kevin nodded.

Howie and Leigh walked with Rochelle out of the waiting room and a heavy silence fell over them. Kevin dropped back into his seat. Lauren's voice shook. "I prayed for --" she broke, unable to finish the sentence.

"You didn't pray for it to be AJ," Leighanne said.

"But I prayed," Lauren said.

"You prayed for God to save Nick," Leighanne pointed out, "Not for him to take someone's life."

Brian was staring down at his feet, his hands pressed tightly together as he cracked his knuckles.


-----


Dr. Carroll watched as Dr. Kent leaned over AJ. She watched the pieces go their separate ways, watched as the organs slipped into coolers and were carried away by various physicians to go fix their patients ailments. She watched as bit by bit the world of one was taken apart to become the glue that would hold other worlds together.

"I hate these surgeries," Dr. Kent muttered as he cut the connections and removed the heart gently, carefully. He slipped it into the ice, and looked up at Dr. Carroll through the headset he wore. "Let me know how the transplant goes," he added.

Dr. Carroll nodded and carried the bowl of ice and heart away from the table.


-----


Kevin and Lauren were all that remained by the time Dr. Carroll came out of the OR to update them. It was early morning and Kris had gone home so Mason didn't panic when his parents weren't there and Leighanne had decided that Brian needed to eat. She'd sworn she'd return with cereal bars for Lauren and Kevin. They'd been silent for the last half an hour, the TV talking aimlessly in the corner, an episode of Everybody Loves Raymond and the tiny studio audience laughter far off and out of place in the room.

Both of their faces turned to look at Dr. Carroll. She drew a deep breath. "The transplant is complete... The first 48-hours are really touch and go, but so far it seems that the operation was a success."

Kevin nodded. "Can we see him?"

Dr. Carroll hesitated. "These ...circumstances..." she began slowly.

"We won't tell him," Lauren interrupted. "Not yet."

Dr. Carroll nodded. "It's important that Nick have no reason to reject this heart," she explained, "The slightest psychological choice to reject it could lead to a physical rejection of the organ." She gave them both meaningful looks.

"I understand," Lauren agreed.

Dr. Carroll stepped back, waving them through the door of the waiting area and down the hall to the post-op room that Nick was laying in.

Chapter Four

Rochelle stood in the center of the entryway in the house, clutching the sweatshirt, staring around the room. She and AJ had spent the past couple years they'd been living together creating this space, working to make it bear their personalities, and now it felt like a slap in the face because he wasn't here and never would be again. Sitting on the table by the phone was a pad of Post-Its with her note with the address of the club Mark had heard he'd gone to. The last time she'd left this house she'd been in a fit of a rage, ready to go and pull him by the ear out of the club.

Howie and Leigh hovered behind Rochelle and Leigh stared down at her fingers entwined through Howie's. She and Rochelle were friendly, but they weren't close the way Rochelle and Lauren were. She was much closer to Leighanne and Kris. The "Backstreet Wives" were certainly a group of friends based on the relationship of their husbands, and she wondered what would happen now that Rochelle's connection to the group had been shattered.

"What can we do?" Howie offered, stepping forward, breaking the hold Leigh had on him. He wanted to have some action to perform, something to keep him moving, keep him busy. He felt like if he just stood there numbly that he'd crack open and emotions he didn't want to feel would come out. He looked around the room.

Rochelle shrugged. "What is there to do?" she commented. She turned to look at them, her eyes full of tears about to pour out, and she shrugged a second time, like putting an emphasis on her lack of knowledge.

Leigh cleared her throat, "You need to eat," she said. Like Leighanne, Leigh was a big advocate for making sure everyone had nourishment in times of trouble. It was a mommy-thing. It was how they dealt with things. Leigh quickly disappeared in the direction of the kitchen, stepping through the modern-decor living room. A few moments later, the sounds of pots and pans and the kitchen drawers opening and closing could be heard.

Howie stumbled into the living room, too, and Ro followed numbly. She watched as Howie stood in the center of the room and stared around at the walls and the furniture and the knick-knacks. AJ had a shelf of pictures on it and he wandered over to look at the framed memories that AJ cherished most. One of the photos was of all five Boys on some awards show years and years ago with crazy hair and crazy facial expressions. Another was Howie and AJ standing in the center of the NKOTBSB stage, hugging, the ocean of fans visible behind them. Then there was the wedding photos of he and Rochelle, one of him and Mark, another of Rochelle and her mother. One of Denise and AJ when he was a kid.

"Has anyone called AJ's mother?" Howie asked.

"Kevin called her," Rochelle replied.

Howie looked away from the picture. He couldn't imagine Denise's anguish. She'd had all she could do to handle AJ going to rehab, and she'd worked so hard since them helping him and others to keep things like last night from happening. He bit his lip. He looked over at Rochelle, who had sank into a blood red chair, still clutching the sweatshirt to her face. "If you need to stay with Leigh and I, you're welcome," he said suddenly.

Rochelle looked over, "Thank you Howie," she said, "But - I don't know. I think -" she sighed. "I think I need to go," she said.

"Go?"

"This hurts so much," Rochelle explained, "And I know it's wrong but I can feel this horrible building resentment for Nick and I don't want that to happen. I don't want to hate Nick because he got a heart that he needed. It isn't Nick's fault, what happened. It's AJ's fault. It's my --" she choked mid-sentence and covered her eyes.

Howie took three quick steps over and sat on the arm of the chair. "It's not your fault," he said in a commanding tone, "It's not. You did not do this to him."

"I went to the club last night," Rochelle sobbed, "I shouldn't have gone to that club. I yelled at him." She looked up at Howie. "He was sitting there in a sea of Jager and shot glasses and he was so smashed he could barely talk right, and he was caressing some fucking blonde and I told him to get up and he said no and I told him off. I told him I couldn't be with him anymore if he was going to act like this."

Howie felt sick. This was not a last memory to cherish. This was a horrible last memory of a person as unique and eccentric as AJ was. He stared at his knee.

"He followed me out to the street," Rochelle continued, "And we fought. We fought like crazy, and he finally told me to leave him."

"What?"

"He said if I hated it all so badly, if I couldn't understand why he needed to drink, that I should leave him," Rochelle croaked out the words, "And I - I told him - I told him I'd rather leave him than watch him shatter everything I loved about him." She looked up at Howie, her eyes blurry and tear-filled. "I told him I loved him too much to stay and that I'd be gone before he got home. So I ran to the car and I - I couldn't come back here, so I went to Lauren's."

Howie drew a deep breath. "It's still not your fault."

"But he followed me and he got in the accident and now he's dead," she argued. "If I'd just left him alone, if I'd just waited 'til he got home and confronted him here..." She suddenly felt like she was going to throw up. She leaped to her feet, almost knocking Howie off the arm of the chair and rushed out of the room to the bathroom. She slammed the door and dropped to her knees, retching painfully into the toilet, her face breaking into a sweat.

She wasn't in there long before the door creaked open and Leigh walked in, stepping around her, sitting on the edge of the tub, and scooping Ro's hair into her fist to keep it out of her face as she threw up. Leigh rubbed Rochelle's back.

"I love him so much," Rochelle sobbed.

"I know," Leigh replied quietly.

"I searched my entire life for him, for someone who loved me for me," Rochelle cried thick tears as she fell back onto her haunches, her back on the wall opposite the toilet. She looked up at Leigh, "Why did he have to die?"

Leigh took a deep breath, "I don't know, honey," she answered, "But everything has a reason."

Rochelle was reminded of the words she'd told Lauren in the car -- just before Dr. Carroll had called to tell her about AJ -- when she'd believed Lauren's prayers being answered was a good thing, when she hadn't felt that Lauren's prayers had killed someone. She felt her stomach churn threateningly again and slid to her knees, clutching the toilet seat. She stared u p at Leigh.

"At least you know that he didn't die for nothing," Leigh continued, "And -- you know Alex. He would've given his life to save Nick's if he'd had the choice. You know he would have. That's the thing about all of our husbands, isn't it? Nick would've done the same for AJ or Howie or Kevin or Brian, and they all would do the same for him or each other." Leigh sighed. "I know it's not a huge comfort, that it won't bring him back, but at least you know that if AJ had to die, if AJ knew he was going to die, that he would've chosen --" she couldn't finish the sentence.

Rochelle nodded. "You're right," she said simply.

Chapter Five

One Month Later

Lauren stood at the airport holding Rochelle's carry on bag, looking around LAX as the people flowed around her. She watched tourists with cameras hanging around their necks walk past, looking around with wide eyes. Rochelle returned from the ticketing booth, carrying the boarding pass, her wallet, a pair of sunglasses and her passport in one hand. She'd just dropped off her Ed Hardy hardshell suitcase at the counter and now she had to say goodbye one more time before she'd be taking a hiatus to bidding things farewell. Of course, it had to be one of the hardest. Not the hardest, obviously, but one of the hardest.

"Thanks," she said, taking her duffle bag back and shouldering the strap. Rochelle stood awkwardly in front of Lauren, running her free hand across her other elbow, staring down at the bright orange ballet flats that encased her feet. "And thanks again for taking Panda," she said, "I really didn't want to get rid of her..." She paused. She didn't want to think about the other dogs - the 'babies' that she and Alex had shared, the ones that she'd given away to various friends and family members because she couldn't handle them all alone. She just hadn't been able to part with Panda, though, because she was Alex's secret favorite, the one he never would've forgiven her for, even from Heaven, for giving away.

Lauren nodded, "No problem. Nick loves Panda, he won't mind a bit." This was a lie. They both knew it was a lie. Nick hated small 'yappy' dogs. Nick had never liked any of the crazy menagerie AJ had collected over the years. But Lauren wasn't about to ask Nick about taking Panda, for two reasons: one, that would raise the question of where AJ was, and two, she was afraid he might say 'no' and honestly she couldn't say no to Rochelle even if she'd wanted to. That and she was pretty sure Nick would be perfectly fine with taking Panda once he knew where his heart had come from.

"I'm going to miss you," Rochelle said, looking at Lauren.

"I'm going to miss you," Lauren replied, tears falling over the ducts of her eyes and scrolling across her cheeks.

"Tell Nick I hope he feels better, and to stay healthy and strong," Rochelle choked out the words, "For Alex."

"Rochelle, I'm --"

"Shhh," Rochelle shook her head, "Don't." She drew a deep breath. "Not yet. We can talk about it another time. When it's not so raw." She hugged Lauren to her tightly. "I just want you to know that if this had to happen - if this had to be how things were - that I'm glad Alex's heart went to Nick." Her voice broke.

Lauren felt like her throat would explode with emotion as she hugged Rochelle tightly. "I love ya, sister," she whispered in her ear.

"Love you too," Rochelle choked.

They pulled apart and Rochelle swiped her eyes with the back of her hand. She walked quickly to the escalator, reminding herself to breathe, swallowing air in large gulps, trying to get enough oxygen. She looked back and Lauren was still standing there, staring, tears glistening in the overhead lights of LAX. Lauren waved.

"I'll send you a postcard," Rochelle called.


-----


Nick was sitting up in bed, eating a cup of green Jell-O. I Love Lucy played quietly on the TV in the corner of the room. Lauren was sitting beside him, staring out the window. Nick licked the spoon. "If I never see a Jell-O cup again in my life, it'll be too soon," he commented. She didn't respond. "Lauren?" She still didn't look up. "Hey babe, is it a'ight if I order a bacon and pepperoni pizza with extra cheese?"

"You can't eat that shit." Lauren broke out of her reveries.

Nick grinned, "I thought that might get your attention." Lauren sighed, and looked back out the window. Nick frowned. "Hey," he said, reaching over with the spoon and poking her shoulder. She looked over. "You didn't laugh," he said.

"At what?"

"I'm being funny," he said in a whiney voice.

"I'm sorry," she said, "I didn't notice."

Nick frowned in disapproval again. "Dude you're supposed to notice." He put the spoon down on the tray and shoved the tray away. "What'cha distracted 'bout?" he asked.

"I'm just... thinking," she replied. Truthfully, she'd been thinking about Rochelle. But if she told Nick that, he'd ask about AJ and well... she still hadn't told Nick about AJ. It was a subject they'd been dancing around for the last couple weeks. It was hard to believe it'd been a month since everything had happened. So she swallowed back her worries, stood up, and surveyed his tray. "You need to eat more than just the Jell-O." She pushed the tray back to him. "Look - eggs, eat the eggs."

"The eggs need salt," Nick complained, pulling a face.

"You can't eat salt," Lauren replied, relieved that Nick had been effectively distracted from the topic of what she'd been thinking about.

"But I need salt," he whined.

"Salt is bad for you," she replied.

"Eggs without salt taste like rubber balls." He looked up at her sadly.

Lauren sighed, "Okay, so try the toast."

"The toast is dry." He poked it with his index finger. "Needs butter."

"Butter is --"

"Bad for me, I know," he interrupted. Nick frowned. "Everything tasty is bad for me."

"Not everything," Lauren replied.

Nick nodded, "Yeah-huh, everything." Lauren picked up a cup of peaches and held it out to him. "Dude, me and AJ won't be able to do our hot dog contests next tour!"

Lauren blanched at the mention of AJ's name.

Nick caught the expression, but luckily misread it. "I know you think it's gross, but me and AJ have fun doing it. And plus I made that fifty bucks that one time, remember? Remember that one time? When I beat him at the contest and I got the fifty bucks?"

Lauren nodded, "I remember."

"Hey," he said, looking over at her, "Yanno... I just thought of something tasty I can still have."

"Oh?" Lauren felt like she was walking on eggshells. She kept waiting for the question. Where were the fellas, where was Brian, Howie, Kevin? Where was AJ? None of them had come by yet to visit, all of them were waiting until he knew about the heart.

Nick grinned and grabbed her hand, took the peaches out of it, and put them down on the tray. He pulled her closer. "You're low calories, right, babe?"

Lauren forced a laugh and wrapped her arms around his neck, crawling onto the bed with him and nuzzling against his chest. She had no idea how she was going to tell him the truth.

Chapter Six

Lauren came home from the grocrery store to find Nick asleep on the couch in nothing but boxer shorts, a fan oscillating on the coffee table in front of him and a replay of the Buccs game on TV. She bent over the back of the sofa and slipped the remote from his hand and pressed the mute button, silencing the broadcast. The dogs - Igby, Nacho, and Panda - were all situated around Nick on the couch. Nick's scar was still vibrant across his pale chest, his face peaceful as he slept.

Lauren stared at the scar, her mouth going dry, and reached out a tentative hand and traced along it with one finger. Under there, under the skin and muscle and bone, was AJ's heart, beating in Nick's chest. It was a modern medical miracle and a nightmare at the same time. She withdrew her hand as Nick sighed and shifted beneath her touch and she hurried to the kitchen with the bag of groceries she'd bought.

Unsacking everything, she started to cry. She leaned against the kitchen counter, her palms splayed, and was reminded of the month before, when Nick was in the hospital, before Rochelle had arrived, before Nick had called, before any of this had happened, and she closed her eyes and choked back gut-wrenching sobs. Suddenly Nick was behind her and he enveloped her in a hug and kissed her jaw softly. Lauren leaned back into him and held his bare arms in place around her, relishing the feeling of his breath against her skin.

"Nick," she said hoarsely, "Theres something I need to tell you." She turned in his arms to face him. "It's important."

Nick stared down at her, "Yes?" he asked.

Lauren licked her lips, "I love you," she started.

Nick smiled, "I love you," he answered. He laughed, "Is that it?"

"No," Lauren shook her head.

"What's the matter, pun'kin?" he asked, kissing her nose.

Lauren felt her hands begin sweating. "Maybe we should sit down." His eyes met hers and she tried to convey the seriousness of her words.

He lowered himself into the seat at the table. "What's up?" he asked, but this time his voice was less playful.

"Nick," Lauren said slowly, "I --"

"Are you breaking up with me?" he asked quickly, panicked.

"No," Lauren replied.

Nick looked relieved. "Okay, okay. Go on, then."

Lauren opened her mouth, but no words would come. Finally, she stammered, "When you had your surgery --"

"Lauren," he interrupted her again, "Wait a second. Wait. I gotta ask you something, before you go on." He cleared his throat. "Lauren, will you marry me?"

She blinked back shock, "Um. What?"

Nick slipped off the stool to his knees awkwardly. "Will you marry me? You've been there for me through the worst of my life and I wanna spend the rest of my life with you, forever." He smiled, "I love you with all my heart. Both of them. The old one and the new one, too." Nick smiled.

Lauren felt her throat burning. "I --"

He looked slightly crestfallen, "You don't wanna marry me?" he asked.

"No," Lauren said, "Wait, I mean yes, of course I want to marry you, Nick, but what I'm trying to say to you is that I --"

But Nick was up on his feet and he'd run to her and flung his arms around her and, grinning, announced, "So that's it then? We're gettin' married?"

Lauren swallowed. "Wait. Wait. Nick, I need to talk to you about your heart."

He stopped hugging and pulled back, "What about my heart?"

Lauren drew a deep breath as Nick sat down again. She lowered to her knees in front of him, her hands on his knees, and stared up at him. "Nick, the night of your transplant, something happened."

He stared down at her, his jaw set in that peculiar way it did whenever he was being serious, his eyes smoldering. "Okay?" he asked.

An intensity was hanging in the air between them. Lauren's voice was careful. "AJ went out drinking," she said slowly, "At a club downtown."

"He was drinking?" Nick frowned, "That rat bastard." He looked toward the phone, "I need to bitch him out..."

"Listen to me."

Nick looked back at Lauren. "What?"

"Nick, there was... an accident."

"Accident?" his upper lip curled slightly, like the word repulsed him. "How do you accidentally go drinking?"

"No, Nick." Lauren's eyes were on the cusp of overflowing. "There was an accident."

He froze. "Where is he?" he demanded.

Lauren swallowed. "Honey, AJ... he didn't... make it."

Nick closed his eyes, his fists balled, the muscles in his neck tightened. "No," he whispered. "He can't be --" He paused, looked away, and his eyes shifted as he thought, connecting dots. His eyes me Lauren, his hand pressed to his chest, shaking his head.

"Nick, Dr. Carroll did blood tests when he was still a John Doe, before they knew --"

"No."

"-- and he was a match, and by the time they'd IDed him positively she'd already told you --"

"No..."

"-- and they didn't want us to tell you --"

Nick stood up, knocking Lauren backwards onto the kitchen floor with the velocity of the motion. He walked quickly out of the room and Lauren heard his feet thunder on the stairs going up to the bedroom. She closed her eyes and tears fell across her face. He'd looked so horrorstruck as the words she'd said had sunk into his consciousness.

Upstairs, Nick was pacing in the bedroom, his hands up on his head, clutching his hair as he walked from one end of the wall to the other, gasping and staring around, trying to collect his thoughts. Lauren had told him Panda was just there for a couple days. Where was Rochelle? Why hadn't he seen this on the news? Was he dreaming? He reached for his arm and twisted the flesh so hard that the skin around the spot his fingers had grasped turned red and his thumbnail actually punctured and drew a little bit of blood.

Nick grabbed his cell phone off the dresser and scrolled through his contacts list until he got to Bone and clicked call now. The phone rang twice, then went to voice mail.

"Hey this is AJ, leave one after the beep."

"Jay you gotta call me a'ight? I'm being told crazy shit. CRAZY SHIT, man. They think --" Nick laughed, "Lauren's trying to tell me you're like dead and that I have your heart in my chest and this is bullshit, so you gotta call me back. Like now. Aight?" He hung up the phone and put it down on the bed. He paused, then picked it back up, and redialed.

"Hey this is AJ, leave one after the beep."

"...I just was thinking... um... AJ... if they're right, if they're not full of shit... I um..." he paused, staring down at stocking feet. His socks were dirty. He chewed the inside of his lower lip. "Nevermind." He hung up the phone, unable to put words around the conflict he was feeling coursing through him.

The door creaked and he turned around. Igby and Panda were standing in the door. Nick lowered to the floor and the two dogs walked over, Panda's nose was dripping and Igby wagged his tail. Nick reached out and pet Igby, pulled Panda onto his lap and pressed his face into the scruff of the little dog's neck, breathing deeply. He coughed and put Panda down and stared at her. "You need a bath, smelly thing," he commented quietly. He looked away.

"Shit," he whispered, leaning his head back. "Shit."

Chapter Seven

Lauren gave him twenty minutes before she went upstairs and knocked on the partially open door. He was sitting on the floor staring at his cellphone, hugging his knees, a resigned, sick sort of look on his face. "Nick," she said slowly, stepping into the room. He didn't look up. Lauren slid to the floor beside him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pressing her cheek against his biceps. "I'm sorry."

"He's gonna call," Nick muttered.

Lauren pressed her lips to his shoulder and kissed his skin softly. "Nick," she whispered, "He's not going to call."

Nick's eyes burned, threatening to spill over. "He's been dead a month and I didn't know," he said quietly. He looked at Lauren. "Why did you lie to me?" he asked.

"I didn't lie," Lauren said, "We just --" she sighed, "We couldn't tell you because Dr. Carroll was afraid that you would reject the heart."

Nick stared at his shoes. "Was there a funeral?" he asked quietly.

Lauren swallowed, "Denise had a very small ceremony," she said quietly, "Just the family, and Howie, I think..."

Nick felt like his throat was going to burst. "Is Denise okay?"

"She was devestated, obviously," Lauren said quietly, "But her husband is there for her..."

Nick nodded into his knees.

He looked like a child, the way he was curled into himself, tears streaming silently down his face. Lauren kissed his cheek softly, then c rawled around to the front of him. "Sweetie, I know you're devestated, and I'm so sorry," she whispered. "I'm here for you, okay? No matter what."

Nick looked into Lauren's dark green eyes and his heart ached. No, AJ's heart ached. Nick closed his eyes. "It feels so wrong," he gasped out the words, his hands began to shake and he brought them up to cover his face. "I'm alive because AJ's dead."

"He died," Lauren whispered, "That is not your fault."

"It is," Nick said sullenly, "If I didn't have his heart, it'd still be in him."

"AJ was dead before that heart was put into you," Lauren argued gently, "He died. At least his death meant something. He saved you."

Nick's jaw trembled. "But he's gone."

"I'm sorry Nick."

"He was one of my best friends," Nick choked.

"I know honey," Lauren's voice shook.

Silence fell over them, and Lauren waited for him to speak again. She couldn't help but wonder how much of what he'd said downstairs - before he'd found out about all this - he had meant. Did he really want to marry her? Or had he been speaking rashly, thinking she was about to leave him? She knew it wasn't the right time to be wondering such a thing. She also knew that Nick's proposal in the kitchen had been hasty, unplanned, and not the ultimate dream proposal she'd always hoped he would one day give her. But she couldn't help but hope that it was the real thing. But she didn't dare to ask, or to even think of it too hard.

After a long, gut-wrenching pause that spanned several minutes, Nick looked up at her.

"Where's Rochelle?"

"She had to get away," Lauren replied.

A worried expression tumbled across Nick's face. "Get away? Get away where?"

"She's going to a couple countries. Japan, Australia," Lauren answered. "That's why we're watching Panda, so she can travel..."

Nick looked down at Panda. "Where's the other dogs?"

Lauren frowned, "She couldn't take care of all those dogs alone. Nick you've seen how many dogs they had..."

Nick frowned. He puckered his lips and called Panda over. The dog reluctantly waddled to Nick's side and he scooped her up. "Poor thing," he said, "Last of your siblings." He rubbed her ear.

Lauren reached out and pet her, too. "Rochelle will be back eventually and she'll take Panda back then. I hope you understand. I just... I couldn't say no, given everything... you know?"

Nick sighed and hugged the dog to his chest, "No, I get it..."

"You do?"

He nodded. "It's kinda nice. Having Panda here." He stroked the dog's fur.

"She's a nice dog," Lauren agreed. Nick nodded again. She paused. "Are you okay, Nick?"

He shook his head, "It's too much to take in," he said thickly. "It's hard to process it. I can't feel anything. It's like my feelings are turned off." He paused. "The other guys know, right?"

"Yes," Lauren replied.

Nick nodded. "So I'm the last to know." He picked up the cell phone from the carpet and spun it in his hand, staring at the dark screen. A part of him clung to the idea that it would ring, AJ's picture would come up, and he'd answer it and hear his friend on the other end of the line. But slowly the truth was sinking in that unless they had a long distance calling plan in Heaven, this wasn't going to happen. He swallowed. Lauren was staring at him, concern and anticipation in her eyes.

"You'll still marry me," he said, "Won't you?"

Lauren felt tears come to her eyes, "I will."

At the words, AJ's heart ached in his chest.

Chapter Eight

Rochelle had to keep reminding herself that AJ wasn't just gone somewhere on tour with the Boys. She'd spent several weeks in Japan, scrolling through Twitter, watching old video bombs and feeling homesick. She'd sent off postcards from the market that made it look like she was seeing sights and staying busy, but in reality she'd spent the entire month holed up in a cheap-ass Japanese hotel on the outskirts of the city, staring at the ceiling, insisting she was okay.

She hadn't started to realize she was going crazy until she found herself looking for constellations of AJ's face in the stucco on the ceiling tiles.

AJ's absence could be felt, like a physical unpresence. She could taste him missing in the atmosphere or something. Her shoes squeak his name when she walked and her toothbrush tasted like his mouth. It was his eyes that stared at her from behind every pair of sunglasses in the hot Tokyo sun, and every voice on the phone was his for just a split second before she could hear the caller clearly. He haunted her so frequently that the line between reality and fantasy was blurring. It was as though he never went away. Even in her dreams, she replaced every person with him. For example, she'd dreamt of Nick and seen AJ in his place even though her consciousness knew it was Nick.

It was 3AM and Rochelle lay awake. She couldn't sleep, so she moved out to the balcony of the hotel and sat down on a chair she'd dragged out from inside, clutching a cup of hot herbal tea she'd made in the electric tea kettle the room had come with. She was wrapped in AJ's sweatshirt, which had slowly but surely lost its scent of him the more she'd worn it until now it was nearly threadbare and didn't smell like him at all except very faintly when she breathed really, really, really deeply into the wrist cuffs. She hummed AJ's favorite Guns N' Roses song - Sweet Child O'Mine - and rocked herself gently on the seat, imagining that AJ was asleep just inside in the silken sea of bedding she'd left behind.

Her cell phone rang into the night, interrupting her daydream. She picked it up and studied the caller ID a moment. Lauren. She drew a deep breath. "Hey," she said, her voice hoarse from lack of use.

Lauren's voice was excited and relieved, "Hey Rochelle! I miss you! Where are you? How are you?"

"Still in Japan," Rochelle replied. She held onto her toes and skipped over answering Lauren's secondary question.

"Are you enjoying your time?" Lauren asked, "Your post card sounded nice."

Rochelle wondered how she could possibly enjoy her time, given why she was there, what she was running away from, but she replied, "Yeah it's been great." But her voice was void of enthusiasm.

There was a long pause between them as they both recognized Rochelle's lack of enthusiasm. Lauren decided to take it as a cue to talk more seriously. "Nick knows," she said finally, breaking the silence.

Rochelle closed her eyes. She'd been wondering if Nick knew yet. Two months had passed now since the surgery, since AJ had passed away. In a strange way, it'd been comforting that Nick thought AJ was still alive because as long as Nick thought it, AJ was still alive in some respect to someone. But now that Nick knew, it was officially over and finalized. She drew a deep, shaking breath. "Is he okay?" she asked gently.

"He's okay, I guess," Lauren replied slowly. She paused. "Well, I mean. Okay, so he's been doing this thing -- he calls AJ's cell phone and he leaves messages, on the voicemail."

"He does?" Rochelle asked. "What kind of messages?"

"I don't know, to be honest, he's very private about it." Lauren paused, "He carries the cellphone around, checking, like he's waiting for a call back from him."

Rochelle's throat closed up and she struggled to breathe. Nick, she realized, was the one person in the world that might have been having a harder time dealing with AJ's death than she was. She, after all, did not have the burden of carrying AJ's heart in her own chest. She tried to imagine how it would feel to carry her best friend's heart, to have it beating in her after they'd passed on, and the notion was inconceivable.

"Is he staying healthy?" she asked.

"Yeah," Lauren replied, "It's been a struggle, especially the diet. He doesn't like bland food. And his doctor recommended a psychiatrist." She laughed, "You can imagine how that is going over."

Rochelle laughed, too. Nick had never been one to talk about emotions, ever. She'd seen that first hand whenever he and Alex had fought. She and Lauren used to try to get the guys to settle their debates by talking about how they were making each other feel and while AJ had been semi-good at the talking thing (a talent he no doubt learned in rehab), Nick was kind of crappy at it. In fact, Rochelle couldn't help but imagine that scene in Good Will Hunting when Matt Damon sings Afternoon Delight.

It was the first time, she suddenly realized, that she'd laughed since -- before.

"I miss you," Lauren suddenly announced, "I miss talking to you and laughing with you. You're my best friend," she confessed.

"I miss you, too," Rochelle said.

"When are you coming home?" Lauren asked.

"Why? Is Nick sick of Panda already?" Rochelle joked.

Lauren laughed, "Actually -- they're getting along great," she said.

"Um, come again?" Rochelle requested.

"Seriously," Lauren said, "It's so cute. Panda's been using Nick as a pillow up on the couch. He just crawls up and sleeps on Nick's stomach and goes up and down as Nick breathes."

"And Nick is okay with that?"

"He encourages it."

"Are we talking about the same Nick here?" Rochelle joked, "This isn't like some cheap ass replacement left behind by the aliens that took the real thing back to the mothership?"

Lauren laughed, "It's not all that far fetched, but no. So seriously, Ro, when are you coming home?"

Rochelle replied, "I don't know. Part of me wants to now and another part --" she sighed. "I can't picture going back to that house, going in that door, and living there without him."

"You could stay with us," Lauren suggested. "Until you can sell the house."

Rochelle imagined it and it wasn't horrible. It was better than an empty house or a rundown Japanese hotel room. She put the tea down and hugged the cuff of the sweatshirt to her nose.

"I have to ask you something," Lauren said, audiably changing gears, "It's sort of related, but not really, but you living here would certainly make it easier and --"

"What?" Ro interrupted.

"Nick asked me to marry him."

"What? When?" Rochelle sat up, pulling the sweatshirt from her face. "Oh my God!"

"I know!"

"I didn't think he'd ever ask!" Rochelle added.

"Me either!" Lauren squealed. She paused to regain composure. "Ro, I want you to be my maid of honor."

"Seriously?" Rochelle gasped. "Really?"

"Really."

"Oh my God, I'd be honored," she said, forcing herself to sound excited even though she felt like a gallon of ice water had been poured down her back. "On one condition, though."

"Anything," Lauren promised.

"That ya'll don't make me look like Lil Bo Peep."

"I wouldn't do that to you," Lauren laughed, "I'm not Leighanne."

"Then it's a done deal," Rochelle replied, laughing.

"I'm so glad," Lauren gushed, "It wouldn't have been the same without you."

Rochelle and Lauren tied up a few details, including Lauren listening in over the phone as Rochelle placed an order on Air Japan's website, and then they said goodnight and hung up. As soon as the silence that followed enveloped her, Rochelle began to regret her commitment to return to California. AJ began to haunt her consciousness again and reality blurred back out of focus, and she crawled into the silky sheets on the bed and pulled the covers up over her head.

Maybe going home was what she needed. Maybe seeing Lauren and Nick and Mark and everyone else back home would help her to cope and deal and eventually - Heaven forbid - let go of the past.

Chapter Nine

"Damn it," Lauren's voice carried out to the kitchen.

Nick was leaning into the fridge, his hands covering over a take-out box that was on the bottom shelf, filled with french fries left over from Lauren's lunch with her mother the day before. He hesitated, wondering if Lauren somehow had the fridge bugged and knew he was thinking about stealing one or two or six. "...Laur?" he called tentatively, his hands frozen mid-reach, "What'sa matter?" Nick waited for the you're stealing bad-for-you food response.

"My appointment with Helen is the same time as I'm supposed to be picking up Rochelle from LAX," came Lauren's reply.

Nick breathed relief, flipped open the styrofoam box, and shoved a fry into his mouth. He grabbed a carton of blueberries for an alibi, and shut the fridge door, chewing on his potatoey-goodness. He carried the blueberries out to the dining room and sat down, swallowing the last fragments of fry, and put the carton prominently on the table in front of him. "Mmm, mmmm," he said, snapping open the carton, "Blueberries."

If Lauren perceived it as weird, she didn't act it.

"So cancel your date with Helen," Nick said, popping one of the blueberries into his mouth.

"I can't," Lauren said. "Do you have any idea how long it took me to get this appointment with Helen in the first place?" she asked, eyeing him.

"Uh -- no," Nick replied, taking a handful of berries out of the carton and beginning the process of arranging them into a cool pattern on the table.

"Well it took a long time," Lauren said. She stared at the planner laid out in front of her like she was looking at a Einstein's logic puzzle. Her brow furrowed.

Nick peeked over at the planner. "Who the hell is Helen anyway?" he asked.

Lauren looked up, "You met Helen."

"Did I?"

"Yes," Lauren answered. She sighed, "Helen, Nick! Helen, the woman who is helping me to put together our wedding? Helen."

Nick half-nodded. He had no clue. He was willing to bet he either had not actually met Helen or else she'd showed up at the house during the first five minutes of the Buccs last game. You know, those five minutes when they weren't losing yet --- yet being the keyword. He'd made a spiral design with the blueberries on the placemat by now and he stared down at the table, at his artwork.

"I have to see Helen," Lauren said.

"So tell Rochelle to take a cab."

Lauren gave Nick The Look. "I can't make Rochelle take a cab," she said.

"So Rochelle."

"But it took a month to get this meeting with Helen."

"So Helen."

"But Rochelle!"

"Rochelle."

They stared at each other.

"Madam, we have reached what is called an impasse," Nick said, laughing. He popped another blueberry and leaned back in the seat. It suddenly occurred to him: he was looking a gift horse in the mouth. And that horse was about to throw up rainbows. "I could go get her," he suggested slyly, pretending to study the blueberries.

"Uhhh no," Lauren said, shaking her head.

Nick's calm front broke, "Why?" he whined like a teenager asking for a later curfew.

"Because."

"Because is not a good reason," he argued.

Lauren stared at him.


-----


Rochelle stepped out of the terminal at the airport and looked around, expecting Lauren. Instead, she saw Nick. He was wearing a t-shirt featuring Pokey and Gumby doin' the deed and old Converse sneakers. He was holding a little neon sign affixed to a popsicle stick, decorated with Lauren's handwriting on it reading Welcome Home Ro Ro! and a bunch of little hearts.

Nick spotted Rochelle at the same time she spotted him. A funny feeling flooded him when he saw her, and it made him regret sneaking the Twix bar on the way over to the airport. Rochelle adjusted her carry on bag's strap on her shoulder as she approached him and gave him a once-over, trying to be casual, and said, "Well, Lauren, I know they say you start lookin' like people you live with after spending a copious amount of time with them but...this is ridiculous." She smirked.

Nick grinned. "I know, I really need to work on getting back my girlish figure." He ran a hand over his booty.

Rochelle wrapped her arms around him as she chuckled, then stepped back and took a good look at him. Nick had gained weight, all jokes aside, but it wasn't all that hard considering how much he'd lost last time she'd seen him. He looked fuller than he'd looked in two years, and his skin's pallor was normal and his eyes had a sparkle in them that had been lost sometime ago. He looked good. She smiled. "As shocking as this may be," she teased, "I actually think I might've missed you."

"Of course you missed me," Nick said in his most charming, half-grinning sort of tone, "Who doeesn't miss me when they away from me? I'm addicting, sweetheart, lemme tell ya that."

Rochelle laughed, "And very modest."

"The most modest you ever met," he agreed. He nodded at her duffle bag, "I'd offer to take that for you, but I'm sickly and weak and stuff so you gotta carry it yourself, but it's the heart that counts."

Rochelle felt like there was a bit of irony in the phrase the heart that counts, but she let it roll off her back and she laughed, "Oh how chivalrous."

"Shivers? What?"

"Like a knight. Chivalry."

"Is that what they mean by that chivalry is dead stuff? Is Chivalry the name of a knight?" Nick asked.

Rochelle laughed, but had a feeling Nick was seriously asking.

They walked through the airport to baggage claim, and Rochelle asked Nick was up to which meant that she then listened to him babble about this and that, mostly stuff that the dogs had done or he'd seen on TV or whatever. "Sorry," he said as they reached the carosel and Rochelle started searching for her Ed Hardy suitcase. "I haven't gotten out much."

"Laur got'cha in a ball and chain, huh?" Rochelle joked.

"This is the first time I've gone anywhere alone," he admitted, laughing. "She's trying to take care of me, I know, and I appreciate it."

"You better," Rochelle scolded.

"I do." Nick pointed, "There's your bag."

Rochelle grabbed it off the conveyer belt and hauled it along behind her through the airport. "She's working really hard for you," she said to him, "Just remember that."

"Trust me, I remember it," he nodded.

"Good."

They made it out to the parking lot and Nick led the way to his Escalade, which was sitting in temporary parking. "So, uh, how was Japan?" Nick asked. He clicked the remote on the Escalade and the lights flashed. He held the door to the storage space in the back open for her.

As Rochelle loaded her duffle bag into the back, she replied, "It was okay."

"Just okay?"

"Pretty much everything has been just okay," she answered with a shrug.

"I know the feeling," Nick replied.

Chapter Ten

Rochelle and Nick rode in silence most of the way back to the house from LAX. When they got there, Lauren's car was still absent from the driveway. Nick parked and jumped out, but Rochelle took pause in the passanger seat, staring up at the house, remembering the way it had looke comforting after having that final argument with AJ that night. She drew a deep breath and got out to find Nick coming back up the drive from the mailbox, shuffling through envelopes. "So where's Lauren at, anyways?" Rochelle asked.

"Meeting with... with..." Nick looked up from the mail and squinted, trying to remember. "I dunno, some party planner wedding maker thingy." He pulled out a magazine from the stack and studied the cover a moment before shoving it back in the pile of mail. "Helen or something."

Rochelle looked up. "Helen Von Troump?"

Nick stared at her, blinking. "What about trout?"

"She got Helen Von Troump as a wedding planner? That bitch! Me and AJ tried like crazy to get her! You should ask AJ sometime because he was seriously lusting after that lady's work, he really wanted ---" Rochelle paused, realizing what she'd just said. "I mean... yeah. Anyways. That's cool she got Helen." She took her duffle bag out of the back, trying to pretend her throat hadn't swollen three times its usual size. She refused to look at him. She could feel in the air that hung between them that he was looking at her like a shot puppy dog and she didn't want to see it.

Nick led the way into the house and dropped his keys on the table by the door and Rochelle followed him. Every step she took had flashes of deja'vu. She'd stood there that night. She'd followed Lauren through there. This is where Lauren bumped into her in the rush to get out the door...

Nick led her up the stairs and showed her the guest bedroom that Lauren had gone out of her way to redecorate with "Rochelle Appropriate" decor. She'd bought a new zebra print bed spread and hung bright red curtains up and installed a phone line and extra shelves for shoes in the closet. "Wow," Rochelle said, her fingers running across the animal print sheets on the bed. "You guys did all this work for me?" she asked.

Nick laughed, "You're worth it."

Rochelle felt her cheeks flush red. "Thanks, Nick."

He grinned. Then, like he realized he was hovering, he announced, "I'm gonna go downstairs and eat vicariously through the fat guy on Diners, Drive-ins, and Dives. I'll be down there if you want me." He ducked out of the room and closed the door.

Rochelle let out a streaming sigh and sat down on the bed, dropping the duffle to the floor and kicking off her shoes before laying back. She close her eyes. "Oh my God," she muttered as emotions flooded her.


-----


Nick was sitting on the couch drooling over a corned beef hash that Guy Fieri was eating on Triple D when Lauren came home. She dropped the bag of stuff that Helen had given her on the dining room table, "Hey Nick, honey, I'm home."

"Why can't we eat corned beef hash?" he yelled back.

"Because it's bad for you," she replied, heading into the kitchen. She pulled a bottle of cranberry vitamin water out of the fridge and started shifting through the pile of mail Nick had chucked onto the table when he and Rochelle got home from LAX. "Where's Rochelle? You did remember to pick her up, didn't you?" It sounded stupid, but Nick had done stupider in his lifetime, so she felt the need to ask.

Suddenly Nick was in the kitchen, "Upstairs," he said. "I wouldn't forget Rochelle."

"Just checking." Lauren kissed his cheek. "You shouldn't watch the Food channel, all it does is make you whine for the next week about how you can't eat the shit they eat."

Nick sat at the table and sighed. He watched as Lauren sorted the mail into piles, threw away the junk pile and started opening the more important envelopes. She had this thing she did where she bit the very tip of her tongue while she read and it looked like she had three lips. He looked away and picked up the bottle cap she'd left on the table from her water and started rolling it under his hand.

"She looks different."

"What?" Lauren looked up.

"Rochelle," Nick replied, "She looks different."

"Different?"

"Yeah," he said, "Like her eyes. I dunno."

Lauren stared at him a long moment. "Well," she said finally, "She's been through a lot."

Nick shrugged, "I guess. Her eyes used to be like sparkley or something and they're different now is all." He remained focused on the water bottle cap.

Lauren looked out toward the stairs and thought a moment, wondering if Rochelle was okay because for Nick to notice something like Rochelle's eyes being different, well that was probably serious. Nick barely noticed her eyes, not to mention other peoples. In fact, sometimes she wondered if she covered Nick's eyes so he couldn't peek if he'd know what color her eyes even were.

"Did you offer her lunch?" Lauren asked.

"I didn't wanna offer her gross food," Nick replied.

Lauren rolled her eyes. "Nick, I can't believe you." She got up and walked quickly to the stairs, heading up to Rochelle's room.

"What?" Nick wailed after her, "What'd I do now?"

Lauren knocked on Rochelle's door, "Ro-Ro?" she called in.

The door opened a moment later and a mascara-streaked face peeked out. "Hey," she gasped.

"Oh honey," Lauren pushed open the door and wrapped her arms around her friend and hugged her tight. "Are you okay sweetie?"

Rochelle gasped into Lauren's shoulder, "He-he-he's g-gone!"

Lauren rubbed her friend's back, "I'm so sorry."

They moved into the room and sat awkwardly on the edge of Rochelle's bed. "It hurts so bad, I feel like he's here, like he's gonna come around the corner any second." She pressed her cheek against Lauren's shoulder, "It's so hard, looking at Nick, and not hating him for having AJ's heart in his chest."

In the hallway, Nick leaned against the wall, out of sight, and listened, staring at his hands, a feeling of guilt washing over him from head to toe.

Chapter Eleven

Nick left the hallway after hearing Rochelle's comment and went to his "office" - a small room that he'd put all his sound editing equipment and a couch into and declared a "no floral zone" after Lauren had started decorating the house to her tastes. He laid down on the old beat up couch and grabbed a tennis ball off the floor which he started bouncing off the ceiling. He felt overwhelmed by the information he'd just encountered.

Lauren had said that Rochelle was staying with them to help her cope, to ease the transition back home. How the hell was it supposed to help her if every time she looked at Nick, she thought he shouldn't be there -- that he was there because AJ wasn't? Nick felt frustrated too because the words Rochelle had said had been a reinforcement of everything he'd been telling himself every time he'd looked in the mirror since he found out that it wasn't his heart keeping him alive anymore, it was AJ's. His heart was in a dumpster somewhere - dead and gone. By all rights he was dead because his heart was dead. So why was he laying here, alive and breathing and living, when AJ was ---

Nick threw the ball so hard he worried he'd break the ceiling if he kept it up, so he let the ball hit the floor and roll away lamely.

He rubbed his eyes, which were protesting tears, and sighed loudly. He wondered how many others felt the same way Rochelle did. Was that why he'd heard so little from Kevin, Howie, and Brian since everything happened? Did they secretly wish, too, that AJ was alive and Nick were dead instead? If given the choice, he wondered, in some cosmic trading game, how many of his friends would keep him?

He wasn't even sure he'd keep himself at this point.

Nick pulled his cellphone out of his pocket and dialed AJ's number.

"Hey this is AJ, leave one after the beep."

"Hey AJ... It's me, Nick, again.... I gotta talk to you..."


-----


"Niiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiick!" Lauren shouted up the stairs, leaning against the banister, "Are you hungry? I made food!" She listened until she heard him call back that he'd be right down, then she returned to the kitchen where she'd left Rochelle.

"He's slipping," Rochelle laughed, "There was a time that he could've been a world away and he would've been here at the mere smell of food."

Lauren laughed, "Yeah well, that was before the heart healthy diet started. These days getting him to eat is like pulling teeth."

Rochelle smiled, "Not into the good-for-you foods, huh?"

Lauren shook her head, "Not even a little. There are perks for me, though." Rochelle raised an eyebrow. "He offered to trade various sexual favors for a pork chop the other day." Lauren laughed.

Rochelle tossed her head back, laughing. "Shameless."

"What's shameless?" Nick swung into the kitchen and threw himself into the chair across the table from Rochelle. He drew a deep breath, "Dude it actually smells like food in here," he commented, craning his neck to look at the pan Lauren was weilding at the stove. "Burgers?" he gasped, seeing the meat patties sizzling.

"Turkey burgers," Lauren corrected him.

Nick looked like he wasn't sure if he was grossed out or not, but leaned back anyways. He looked at Rochelle. He didn't want either girl to know he'd been eavesdropping outside the bedroom door before retreating to his office, so he asked, "How was your nap? Did Lauren wake you up for this rubber food?"

Rochelle smiled and concentrated on the can of diet 7-UP she was nursing. "It was good. How was Diners, Drive-ins and Dives?"

"Hunger inducing," Nick replied.

Lauren dropped a plate of steamed veggies and a turkey burger in front of him and handed him a fork. Nick waited 'til she had her back turned, then poked the zucchini she'd served him with the utensil warily. He looked up at Rochelle, who had received an identical plate and raised an eyebrow. Rochelle laughed.

"I keep telling him he needs to stop watching Food Network," Lauren said, "It just makes him see red."

"It makes me see steak is what it makes me see," Nick said, shoving his turkey burger into his mouth. He chewed several times longer than he felt was appropriate for chewing a burger just because he wanted to make a point that he could taste the difference. Although he had to admit, the turkey burger was definitely one of the best things Lauren had made since the health food kick started.


-----


"So I was thinking," Lauren said that night as she rubbed lotion on her elbows at the dresser, "You should bring Rochelle somewhere tomorrow." She put her engagement ring into her jewelry box and let her hair down. She was wearing really skimpy lingerie, which was the only reason Nick was looking at her and not at the Buccs game reply that was on the TV.

"Bring her somewhere?" Nick asked.

"Yeah," Lauren crawled across the bed and sat on his lap, taking the remote from his hand and turning the TV off. "Take her somewhere." She put her hands on his chest and he felt cool lotion between her palms and his flesh. "I think she needs to get some time out of the house, and you'll be around all day and --"

"Where will you be?" Nick asked.

"Doctor's appointment," she said, leaning close and kissing his mouth, "Remember?"

"Uhhhuh," Nick moaned, though she was pretty certain he would've agreed to anything, even if she'd said she was needed for a staff meeting on planet Zork. She kissed him again, her hands massaging in the lotion.

"So you'll go some place with her?"

"Mmhm."

"Thanks baby," Lauren whispered, and her hands worked their way lower.

Nick closed his eyes. "Anytime."


-----


Rochelle lay in bed, thinking about everything that had happened. She thought about Lauren and Nick and AJ and everything, staring out at the moon reflecting on the ocean behind Nick's house. And for some reason, it suddenly occurred to her, what Lauren had said about Nick calling AJ's cell phone and leaving messages.

Rochelle pulled her suitcase out from under the bed and fished until she found the bag of his belongings from the hospital. She dug out the cell phone and found the battery was dead. Crawling onto the bed, she plugged it into her own A/C plug and booted it. The second it'd turned on, it declared that there were 22 new messages.

She opened up AJ's voicemail and typed in the 4 digit code -- their anniversary -- and held the receiver to her ear.

Chapter Twelve

The computerized voice welcomed Rochelle into AJ's voicemail inbox and declared, "You have twenty-two new messages. To listen to your messages, press one."

Rochelle pulled the phone back and pressed one.

"Message one. Saturday. June 24. 11:26 A.M."

"Jay you gotta call me a'ight? I'm being told crazy shit. CRAZY SHIT, man. They think --Lauren's trying to tell me you're like dead and that I have your heart in my chest and this is bullshit, so you gotta call me back. Like now. Aight?"

"End of message one. Next message. Saturday. June 24. 11:29 A.M."

"...I just was thinking... um... AJ... if they're right, if they're not full of shit... I um.................. Nevermind."

"End of message two. Next message. Monday. June 25. 5:47 P.M."

"Fuck you. Fuck you, AJ. You have no right to be dead. What the hell were you thinking? You stupid piece of shit. Going drinking? Seriously? Cheating on Rochelle? You're so stupid. I can't believe how stupid you are. After everything you've been through? After everything we've all been through? Christ AJ. And look, now you've gone and died and I'm feeling better and I can't even tell you about it! I didn't even fucking get to say goodbye! I didn't even get to go to your fucking funeral 'cos you couln't even just die -- no no, that's not good enough for you. Fuck just dying and being dead, right, when you can die, be dead, and fuck up my life by like dying to save it and shit. Do you have any idea what I'm going through? Fuck you!"

"End of message three. Next message. Monday. June 25. 6:59 P.M."

"Jay, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry you died. I'm sorry I'm pissed off. I can't take it, dude. I close my eyes and lay my head on the pillow and I hear it beating in there and it's so weird because it's not me in there, its you. It's like I can feel it different, like ventriloquism or something. It's not me operating me. I'm sorry I yelled at you."

"End of message four. Next message. Thursday. June 28. 3:14 P.M."

"Dude Lauren's going crazy. How the hell do you deal with these wedding-obsessed chicks? You did this for how long? You and Ro had like the longest engagement ever. Course you WERE the wedding-obsessed chick there, weren't you? Maybe I should ask Rochelle this, never mind."

"End of message five. Next message. Wednesday. July 4. 10:54 P.M."

"Jay, I read a thing like a week ago about these people that do funerals by creamating people then making them into fireworks displays. Well it's the fourth of July and me and Lauren just got back from seeing them over the water and alls I could think about was that creamation place and how crazy that is and how fucked up and how completely insanely awesome you would've thought it was. I pretended a couple of them were you in my head a little but I dunno it didn't really do much for me. You're a fucked up bastard, though, so I knew you'd appreciate it."

"End of message six. Next message. Wednesday. July 11. 3:21 A.M."

"I would trade places with you, if I could, AJ. In a heart beat. Shit."

"End of message seven. Next message. Friday. July 13. 5:44 A.M."

".......... I'm sorry, AJ."

"End of message eight. Next message. Monday. July 16. 5:14 P.M."

"So a weird thing happened today, J, and I gotta tell you 'bout it. So check it out, I was down at the mall with Lauren and we had these real fruit smoothies, cos yanno that's the only thing I can have from the food court these days, and we were going to look at like yanno wedding -- I dunno, paper or something -- and this girl walks by and I thought she was Rochelle at first. I dunno why, she had no tattoos or anything but you know when you see someone in the corner your eyes and you think they're that person? Anyways I thought it was Ro and I swear to God the weirdest feeling happened. I don't even know it was like my heart like did some weird ass thing. Anyways, it just made me think about you and stuff and I thought I'd tell you."

"End of message nine. Next message. Tuesday. July 24. 7:37 P.M."

"Hey J, its me, Nick. I've been bugging Lauren about calling Rochelle because I don't think she has in awhile. Ro's like in Japan. But after I thought I saw her like a week ago down at the mall I been kinda tellin' Lauren that she kinda should call'er, y'know, 'cos like I'm sure Ro's like alone over there and shit and that's not fair to Rochelle. Anyways Lauren finally called her and Rochelle said she's gonna come back to the States and stay with us, but it's probably gonna be awhile before she does. I dunno. She's coming anyways. I'm kinda excited. Thought you would be too."

"End of message ten. Next message. Wednesday. July 25. 3:21 A.M."

"Jay. I just had the worst thought. What if Rochelle is mad at me 'cos you're dead and it's my fault? I mean I'm mad at me for that, why wouldn't she be?"

"End of message eleven. Next message. Wednesday. July 25. 3:38 A.M."

"Was it because of me? That you were drinking I mean? God damn it, I hate that you can't actually answer this shit. It's driving me crazy, J. I have so many questions. So many questions and nobody knows the answers because you're the only one that was there. I wish you could answer my questions."

"End of message twelve. Next message. Saturday. July 28. 4:47 P.M."

"So Rochelle's gonna be here next week and Lauren just offered me to pick her up at the airport when she gets here because she's got an appointment with some lady named Stephanie. Or Tracy. Or -- I don't know -- someone. Some lady. About wedding planning. I don't remember the name. But anyways I'm trying to decide what kinda food I want when I'm alone. I know it's your heart and stuff but dude you ate shit for how long and your heart works fine right now so I think I should be okay sneaking something. You'd be all up in my grill like Yo get a McDonalds! 'Cos yanno, that's like the ultimate you thing to want and -- Actually you know, McDonalds sounds fucking amazing now that I've said it? Damn it, I'd cut off my left nut for a Big Mac about now. Ughhhh."

"End of message thirteen. Next message. Saturday. July 28. 5:52 P.M."

"I'm thinking Twinkies now. Remember that one time -- that one time I frosted the twinkies and stuck'em together like frosting sandwiches and ate like four of them and you thought I was really gross? Dude it was really gross but it was so good, too! I'm so hungry. Lauren makes like fake food. It's real but it tastes fake. Dude do you remember that one time J when we tried to make Howie eat the plastic grapes and he almost did but then he started chewing on it and it wouldn't chew? Oh my God that was so fuckin funny. Hold up -- Laurens callin' me. I gotta go."

"End of message fourteen. Next message. Monday. July 30. 2:18 P.M."

"Lauren's going crazy. You should see the shit she bought for Ro's room. They had fuckin' flowers on it. She got so pissed off 'cos I was like Ro won't want that and she gave me the blanket and was like here you go do it then you think you know everything about her so I took it back and I got her this blanket with zebra print on it. You'd definitely approve."

"End of message fifteen. Next message. Monday. July 30. 7:22 P.M."

"Lauren ended up agreeing with me about the zebra print. Just saying."

"End of message sixteen. Next message. Thursday. August 2. 2:14 A.M."

"Why did you have to go and die? I miss you so fucking much. I hate you for dying. Funny shit happens and it's not funny 'til I tell you about it and you aren't around to tell. The fellas hate me, I think. I think they can't look at me. Especially Howie. They never come around. I haven't seen them once since I found out and only like one time before that. AJ, I feel like it's not just you that died. I feel like all of you guys died. You and Howie and Kevin and Brian, too. I feel so alone. I know I'm not. I have Lauren, but I mean -- I don't know. I feel like all my friends are dead and I'm the last man standing. I feel like those guys that go to war and everyone in their platoon goes down and all that's left is them. I miss you."

"End of message seventeen. Next message. Thursday. August 2. 2:36 A.M."

"I just remembered that time when we became blood brothers, you and me, and you were going all dramatic about it and you made us make a pact about us always being ready to sacrifice all to save the other. I mean we were talking about like in the event of the apocalypse or like if we climbed Everest eating each other if we needed to, but seriously you kept the pact. Your heart's beating in me to prove it. I guess we're like ultimate blood brothers now, huh?"

"End of message eighteen. Next message. Saturday. August 4. 8:12 A.M."

"Rochelle's coming today. I'm nervous about seeing her. It's so weird because I've never been nervous about shit like this before. Why am I nervous about seeing Rochelle? But seriously dude my palms are sweating. I swear it's like they're little pools. It's ridiculous. It's weird because I feel relief that she's gonna be here today, like I was worried and didn't even know it. I missed her. Anyways. I gotta go. And also, still making the choice beteween the Big Mac and the Twinkies. I'll update'cha later."

"End of message nineteen. Next message. Saturday. August 4. 11:48 A.M."

"I went with a Twix bar. Just in case you were curious since I was talking about my sneaking food and all."

"End of message twenty. Next message. Saturday. August 4. 3:18 P.M."

"Nobody wants it to be me here, nobody wants me. Everyone wishes I was still you, they all wish you were here instead. Even I wish you were here instead. I see myself in the mirror and I hate myself. You're dead because of me. If it wasn't for your heart being inside me it' still be inside you. If it was gonna keep beating this long then you'd be alive too right? Why would it have died in you but not in me? Why is it possible that this is your heart? AJ, it hurts so much. I feel so lonely. I wish I could switch with you. I wish I could fix it. Rochelle told Lauren today she can't help but look at me and think it should be you alive instead of me and it hurts so bad to think about it. It hurts to think she might resent me for you dying. I didn't want you to die. I didn't ask for you to die. I didn't ask for your heart. But it's my fault. All of it. I wish it wasn't my fault. I wish I could fix it."

"End of message twenty-one. Next message. Saturday. August 4. 9:48 P.M."

"It feels so weird, knowing Rochelle is in this house, knowing she's in the guest bedroom, and you aren't. It must be so weird for her, being here without you, too. She looks different, you know, in the eyes. She misses you, I can tell. But hell. Don't we all?"

"End of message twenty-two. You have no new messages."

Rochelle hung up the phone with shaking hands, tossed it to the night stand, rolled over and closed her eyes. She felt like she'd been scalded.

Chapter Thirteen

Nick woke up at ten to find the bed beside him cold and empty, and his nose tingling with a scent he couldn't quite place, yet seemed to sing to him. He rolled out of bed, scratching himself through his boxers as he dawdled into the hallway, his hair a mess, and stumbled downstairs half naked. Hell, he even had on one sock. He found himself in the kitchen after following his nostrils to the source and discovered a skillet with sizzling french toast on the range. The oven light glowed down on the thick slices like a beam of praise from Heaven and he inched closer, practically salivating. "Oh holy shit," he whispered, "I've passed on." He reached out a hand to pick a piece of the toast off.

"If you wait a second, I was about to fry up some meat to go with it."

Nick jumped back from the stove like he'd been shot in the ass. "Sorry!" he yelled, flinging his hands up in the air.

Rochelle laughed, "Jesus, Carter. Lauren's really got you pussy whipped, huh?"

Nick lowered his hands, "She ain't got me pussywhipped."

Rochelle smirked. "Do you want turkey bacon?"

"We only eat that on Sundays," Nick replied matter-of-a-factly.

Rochelle laughed. "But you aren't pussy whipped at all." She closed the fridge without taking out the turkey bacon and put a bottle of orange juice on the table.

Nick sat down, "Yeah well..." He turned pink around the ears. "Speaking of her, where is Lauren?"

"Doctor's appointment."

"Oh yeah." He'd forgotten she'd told him that's where she'd be today. He'd also forgotten he had to come up with something him and Rochelle could do together.

Rochelle put the french toast onto the plates she'd pulled out and put one in front of him, along with syrup. Nick quickly wolfed the thing down and she gave him seconds before sitting down across from him with her own plate of the french toast.

As they ate, Rochelle studied Nick. She watched the way the hair fell across his forehead and the rhythmic motion of his jaw as he chewed the toast intently. Nick had always been kind of stereotyped in their little group. He was the big, dumb one, the one that said the studpid punchlines they were all thinking, the one who whined and panicked and acted like a child more often than not. Yet here he was, different than all that.

The messages had completely altered Rochelle's vision of Nick. Instead of seeing him as she'd always seen him - like a blonde version of all the worst parts of AJ - she now saw the side of him that Lauren had always insisted was there. Suddenly it wasn't AJ's pesky little brother sitting there eating french toast, but a deep and intensely emotional man. A man who was going through an inner turmoil so dark and deep that he couldn't express it outwardly, but was screaming on the inside.

AJ had been the same way, she thought. Behind the glitz and glamour, behind those dark sunglasses, wild outfits, loud mouth comments, and video bombs there had been a soul bearing battle wounds, tortured for years and years on end for things that were not his fault, things that had broken his heart.

Having thought this, Rochelle felt suddenly closer to Nick, like she understood him better than she ever had before. She put down her fork. "Hey," she said, catching Nick's attention away from the french toast. He looked up at her, his blue eyes seemed a million miles deep as Rochelle looked back into them solemnly. "You're a good friend," she said sincerely, "Thank you for letting me stay with you guys."

Nick swallowed a particularly large bite that he'd just put into his mouth before she'd interrupted his eating. He stared silently back at Rochelle for a moment, clearly at a loss for words. In his mind, he was thinking how she should be anything but thankful to him after everything that had happened. He wondered if she knew about him eavesdropping, if this was her trying to make up for it, trying to erase it from him. She couldn't erase it, he thought. Knowing he had to respond to her, he finally let a grin spread across his face, and waved his hands over his plate, "With this breeakfast, you've paid your way," he replied.

"Oh is that all it takes? Some french toast?" Rochelle laughed.

Nick nodded. "It's like Lauren always says about me that the way to my heart's through my belly."

"Your belly, huh?" Rochelle asked, smirking at the childish word.

"Yes," Nick nodded. "What? You don't like my word? Would you prefer tummy? Bon-bon?"

"Bon-bon is ass, Nick," she responded, laughing.

"Nuh-uh!" Nick whined. "Says who?"

"Says Ricky Martin."

Nick grinned, "The final authority."

"Always."

Nick shoveled the last of the french toast into his mouth, chewed, and finished off his orange juice. There was silence between the two of them for a long moment. Then Nick sighed loudly, heavily.

"Troubles, bubbles?" Rochelle asked, an eyebrow raised.

Nick laughed, "Thanks to you I'm gonna have Ricky-fuckin-Martin stuck in my head all day."

Rochelle grinned.


-----


They ended up at an arcade. Nick had almost taken out the entire gaming machine at the Whack-a-Mole, and Rochelle had won enough tickets at ski-ball to get herself an old slap bracelet and a necklace with a charm shaped like a duck that was full of bubbles. Nick had a ton of tickets, too, but he was persistently trying to earn enough to get Lauren a big stuffed dog that looked kind of like Nacho.

"I haven't been to an arcade in forever," Rochelle said as they walked through the various games, headed to one that Nick was confident he could earn the final 100 tickets he needed for the dog.

"It's like a kid version of Las Vegas," Nick laughed.

Rochelle had never thought about it that way, but it made sense. "Oh God, Las Vegas," she said, grinning, "I haven't been there in forever, either."

"AJ and I went last summer," Nick said absently.

"Nuh uh, when?" Rochelle looked up, "I don't remember that."

Nick bit his lip, "Welllllll..." he said slowly, "We didn't um... exactly... tell you... and... um... Lauren."

"What?"

Nick's cheeks flushed. "We told y'all we were going to go prep my place in Florida for the winter," he said, "But I actually hired a guy to do that and we took a week in Vegas, me and AJ."

"Why the hell did y'all lie to us?" Rochelle demanded.

Nick swallowed. "We uh... just wanted it to be a guys week, you know?"

"Did you see strippers?"

Nick stood there awkwardly, caught between a rock and a hard place. What the hell else do you do on a guys week? he wondered, how could she not have figured that out? Well kind of she had, she'd asked, but --- "Uh, a little."

Rochelle rolled her eyes.

"But he thought of you the whole time, I'm sure," Nick said quickly.

Rochelle couldn't help but bust out laughing. The look on Nick's face - something between pure panic and desperation - was too funny not to laugh at. She patted his arm. "Oh Nick, you're funny."

"Why am I funny?"

Rochelle smiled, "You just are."

"But why?" he whined.

She smirked and continued leading the way on through the arcade to the machines Nick was so certain he could win at. She wondered what other things he and AJ had conspired on over the years that nobody else knew about but those two. And it occurred to her yet again that Nick was struggling through a loss just as colossal as she was. She'd lost a partner in love, and Nick had lost a partner in crime.

Chapter Fourteen

Lauren was sitting in the kitchen when Nick and Rochelle returned from the arcade. She had a glass of lemonade in front of her on the table and was flipping through a magazine. She looked up as Nick stepped into the room clutching the huge stuffed dog. He dropped it in front of her, right on top of her magazine. "Lauren... I rufff you," he sing-songed.

Lauren looked up at him, a grin on her face, "You are such an ass," she laughed.

Nick grinned. "I know." It was obvious he was quite proud of this declaration.

"We had a lot of fun," Rochelle said, "I won bling. Look." She held up her arm with the slap bracelets on it and wiggled her duckie bubble necklace. "Makes me all sexy-sexy."

"Oh my God," Lauren laughed and reached over to pull a slap bracelet from Rochelle's wrist. "I had these in Junior High School."

"Me too!" Rochelle cried.

Nick grinned, "I stole one of my sister's bracelets and gave it to this chick I was crushin' on in school." He nodded, "She was a high schooler," he added, with nostalgic reverence. "I knew, even then, that the ladies like jewelry."

"Did you get laid for it then, too?" Rochelle asked, "Or did that just come with diamonds?" she thumbed in Lauren's direction. Lauren kicked her under the table with a laugh.

Nick grinned. "She kissed me on the playground after school." He ran a hand through hair arrogantly.

"Oh so you were a player, even then?" Rochelle asked.

Nick nodded, "Played the bitches hot and cold."

Lauren smiled up at him awkwardly, then stood up. "Can I talk to you a sec?" she asked.

"Yeah of course, babe," Nick replied, then bounded out to the living room, leading the way.

"We'll be right back," Lauren promised, and she disappeared after him.

Rochelle sat awkwardly in the kitchen, looking around at everything. It was obvious that Lauren had decorated the house because there it was glaringly obvious when something was Nick's in a room. Like the set of Ninja Turtle glasses that donned a top shelf like they were expensive wine goblets that needed displaying or the rooster-shaped teapot that sat on the back burner of the stove. Rochelle wondered what the place had looked like in the time of "pre-Lauren", before she'd moved her toothbrush in and put up the yellow flowered curtains. AJ's house had been rather eclectically decorated, too, before she'd moved in. He'd had diamond encrusted skulls everywhere. His house had reminded her of that episode of Friends when Joey moves out and has the big ceramic dogs and muppet fur pillow.

"So anyway, was he terribly annoying?" Lauren asked as she re-entered the kitchen. She sat down with a heavy sigh and took a sip of her lemonade. "I never take him to the arcade because he's usually a pain in the ass there. It sets off his ADD."

Rochelle laughed, "Actually, he was fine. We had a lot of fun."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah."

Lauren made a surprised-but-impressed face, "Either you have more patience with me or he managed to reign it in there," she laughed.

Rochelle shrugged, "AJ used to get pretty spastic at arcades, too, but it was one of his favorite date night destinations," she said, rolling her eyes. She smiled. Then it hit her that she'd spent an entire day at the arcade with Nick without hardly thinking of AJ a single time.

Lauren must've seen something flicker across Rochelle's face as she made the realization, because she said, "I'm sorry. That must've been hard for you... I'll ask Nick not to bring you to AJ places again. I swear sometimes that boy doesn't use his head. Like, ever."

Rochelle shook her head, "No, no. It's fine. I had fun. Nick was fine." She paused, "Speaking of him, where'd he disappear to?"

"Upstairs."

"Is he okay?" Rochelle asked.

Lauren nodded, "I'm sure he is." She looked at the big stuffed dog. "He's a good guy."

Rochelle nodded.


-----


Nick remained mysteriously absent for the rest of the evening, and when Rochelle asked if there was anything wrong, Lauren said he had a headache and had gone to bed. Meanwhile, the two of them had a girls night on the couch in the living room, watching Sex in the City on DVD and eating a spinach and feta pizza that Lauren ordered in while giving eachother pedicures. Lauren had even ordered a small cheese pizza for Nick, but he hadn't answered when she knocked on the door upstairs, so she'd left it in the fridge for him as a surprise.

Rochelle laughed, "He really is slipping if he didn't smell pizza."

"Poor Nick, I've ruined his super power with crappy food," Lauren giggled.

"You should've seen him this moring," Rochelle said, "I made him french toast and suggested we make some turkey bacon, and he almost wet himself."

"You gave him french toast and bacon?" Lauren asked, "No wonder, he probably thought he just scored the jackpot. You might as well have given him sex." She laughed.

Rochelle laughed, too, "Well actually, he panicked and said he's only allowed turkey bacon once a week. He looked like a kid caught in the cookie jar by the cool aunt or something."

Lauren grinned, "Aw I've trained him well."

"You really have."

"Poor Nick," Lauren's eyes sparkled with amusement even as she said the words, though.


-----


Rochelle woke up at 2:30 and found the TV off and the room dark. She'd fallen asleep at some point and Lauren had put a blanket over her and snuck off to bed. She stretched her arms and got up, tossed the blanket over the back of the couch, and tip-toed up the stairs to the bedrooms. She was on her way down the hall to the guest room when she noticed a slim line of light under Nick's office door. She paused outside it, wondering what he was doing still up. She looked up and down the hallway, then leaned against the door and listened for any movement inside. She heard something, so she knocked gently on the wood.

It took a moment, but the door opened and there stoo Nick. He stared at her a moment, then beckoned her inside silently. Rochelle stepped into Nick's office and he closed the door behind her. "What're you still doing up?" he asked in a loud whisper.

"I might ask the same of you," replied Rochelle in the same hushed tone.

Nick shrugged. He sat in a desk chair. The desktop was covered with scraps of paper with writing and drawings all over them.

Rochelle lowered herself onto the couch and looked around. The walls were covered with Backstreet Boys gold records and photos taken all over the world during various stages of their careers. "This is quite a shrine," she commented.

"Yeah," Nick said.

Rochelle spotted a photo that AJ had a copy of on their mantle back home and she stood up and walked over to it, staring at it. It was from some awards show, God only knows how long ago. She studied AJ in it for a long moment, then turned to face Nick. "I had fun today," she commented.

"What?"

"At the arcade," she clarified, "With you. I had fun. Thanks for bringing me."

"Oh. Yeah. You're welcome."

Suddenly Panda emerged from under Nick's desk, right by his feet. Rochelle's face broke into a smile. It was the first she'd really seen of the little dog, other than a brief appearance he'd made mooching the night before. She picked him up and hugged him, pulling the fur away from his eyes. "Hey Panda," she said, "Who's a good booooyyy?"

Nick watched in silence.

When she'd finished coddling the dog, Rochelle put him on the floor. "So you and Panda, huh?"

"What about us?"

"Y'all are buds now?"

"When weren't we?"

Rochelle shrugged, "You know. Before."

Panda wandered over and scratched at Nick's leg, so he picked the dog up and it curled up in his lap and closed his eyes. Nick stroked the dog's ears. "I never didn't like Panda," he said.

Rochelle snorted. "Yeah right."

Nick licked his lips. "Hey Ro?" he asked.

"Hmm?" she'd turned back to the photos on the wall.

"How long was he drinking?"

Rochelle turned back to Nick. She stared at him for a long moment. "Not too long."

"Since I was in the hospital." It wasn't a question.

Rochelle turned back to the photos, not wanting to confirm, but unable to deny, what Nick was saying.

"I wish it'd been me," he said.

Rochelle turned around again. "No," she said sternly, "Don't do that. Don't wish that."

Nick's face was solemn. "I feel guilty," he confessed.

She shook her head, "You shouldn't."

Nick drew a deep breath, letting it out in a heavy sigh, "Everyone wishes it was me instead of him, I know."

"No," she replied. "That's not true."

Nick looked down at Panda. "You do."

"Nick," she whispered, "That's unfair. He was my husband."

"And he's dead 'cos of me."

"No," she answered. "He's just dead."

Nick's face moved into a sad smile. "It's okay to say it," he said, "I understand. I blame myself, you might as well blame me, too." Rochelle started to say something, but he continued on, "I miss him, though. God I miss him so much." Nick rubbed his hands against his jeans. "It's never until I have something to talk to him about that I notice he's gone. I know that sounds terrible, but its true. It's selfish. But then I have something I wanna tell him or talk with him about and it's like this tsunami just floods me and I start drowning in it..."

Rochelle knew exactly the feeling Nick meant. It surprised her how eloquently he was describing the feeling of utter loss she felt in just a few simple words. She often felt consumed, just like he was saying, when she thought too much about AJ missing.

"I don't blame you Nick," Rochelle said.

"Okay," he said. But his eyes were still unfocused and far off, deep in thought.

"You should get some sleep," Rochelle said, and she slipped out the door, back to the hall, and down to the guest bedroom, where she cried herself to sleep.

Chapter Fifteen

Rochelle woke up an hour later to the sound of a slamming door and a muffled curse in the hallway. She listened in the dark as Nick shuffled past the guest room door, the floor squeaking under his weight, and started down the stairs. She sat up, wondering what he was up to, reminded of AJ sneaking out at night to go drinking the last few weeks that she'd spent with him. Rochelle crawled out of bed, and moved stealthily into the hallway, too, and reached the top step before Nick was even halfway down.

"Where are you going?" she demanded in a thick whisper.

Nick looked back up at her. "Rochelle?" he said in surprise, squinting through the dark, "You're still up?"

"Where are you going?" she repeated.

"I thought you went to bed?" he asked.

"I thought you did," Rochelle retorted.

They stood, staring at each other, the impasse hanging between them. She wasn't going to let him go until he told her where he was going and he didn't want to tell her where he was going at all; neither was willing to back down. Moments ticked by. Long moments.

"I'm going for a ride," Nick finally caved.

Rochelle nodded, "I'm coming with you," she replied. "One second while I grab my sweatshirt."

Nick frowned.

Rochelle disappeared from view and for a moment Nick envisioned bolting out the front door and leaping into the car without her. What in the hell would she ever do? It wasn't like she could run the same speeds as his car could drive.

Rochelle reappeared a moment faster than Nick's hesitation had allowed him to move and she came down the steps, pulling on a sweatshirt printed with various colored cupcakes. She zipped it up the front and Nick held open the front door for her.

Outside, crickets were chirping and the ocean was rolling like a dull hum from behind the house. They climbed into Nick's car and he backed out the driveway without turning on the lights. In fact, the headlights stayed dim until they were in the street and a couple houses away from his. Rochelle looked over at him in the dark, his features only just lit up by the street lamps.

"About earlier," Rochelle said suddenly, "Nobody wishes it was you that died instead of Alex. Not even me."

Nick's lips tightened, then he licked them, but he didn't part them to speak. He simply stared ahead, his knuckles tight on the wheel.

"I guess I can't say nobody," Rochelle ammended, "I can't speak for everyone, but as for me, I don't wish it."

"Of course you do," Nick said quietly. "Like you said earlier, it's not fair, he was your husband."

Rochelle sighed, "Nick. I knew a part of AJ that not many other people knew --"

"If you're about to tell me some sob story about AJ's past and his sad experiences you can save it. Trust me, I know a lot more about AJ and his past and his sad experiences than I'm guessing even you know," he said. "I was there for most of it, don't forget, and what I missed we talked about many times at length."

"Okay so then you know how tortured and broken his heart was," Rochelle said.

Nick blanched. "The heart that's in me you mean?"

"You know what I mean," Rochelle said, frustrated.

"I wish it was me that had died instead of him," Nick said. His voice was resigned and final and Rochelle felt a little bit of her shatter at the heaviness of Nick's tone. "I wish he was here instead of me."

There was a long pause, a thick silence that fell between them. "I'm worried for you," Rochelle admitted.

"Worried about what?"

Rochelle looked at her hands. She hadn't even let herself think it yet. "That maybe you're suicidal."

Nick snorted. "Suicidal?" he laughed, "Maybe once upon a time. But now -- well suicide ain't an option now."

Rochelle found this wording strange. "What?"

"I can't kill myself because technically I am already dead. Technically, my heart doesn't even exist anymore. My heart is in some briney shit in a jar in some hospital some place or something. It's dead. It stopped beating." He laughed, "I'm like the undead. Or maybe AJ is. Maybe we both are. I don't know. But I can't kill myself because I'm already dead. Suicide would now be killing AJ."

"It's one organ, Nick," Rochelle argued.

Nick shook his head. "I dunno, I feel like... Like I owe him something. Like a debt I can't repay." Nick sighed.

"Nick, if he had the choice you know he would've given his heart to you," Rochelle said, "You didn't take it from him. He'd be gone right now whether they stuck his heart into you or not."

"He wouldn't have been drinkin' in the first place, and that wouldn't have happened if it hadn't been that I was in the hospital and all that crap," Nick argued. "He would've been here."

Rochelle looked up and realized where Nick had driven them.

Directly into the driveway of the house where she'd lived with AJ. It'd been just months since she'd been there, yet it felt more like years or even decades. She felt her palms break into a sweat. "Why are we here?" she whispered.

"This is where I go to think at night," he said. He cut the engine. "Are you coming in?"

"To my house?" Rochelle asked.

"AJ's house, actually," Nick argued.

Rochelle stared at the house. "Why?" she asked.

"Because I'm going in?"

"No, I mean -- Why do you come here to think, of all places?"

Nick drew a deep breath, "Because sometimes it feels more homey," he answered, and he swung himself out of the car, slamming the door behind him, and trotted up the walkway to the front door. Rochelle watched as he pushed it open. He paused in the door way and looked back at her in the car, holding the front door open, one eyebrow raised, his face blue in the pale moonlight.

Rochelle climbed out of the car and jogged to the front door, praying with each step that coming here wasn't going to turn out to be a huge mistake.

Chapter Sixteen

The moment she stepped through the door, everything seemed to freeze in time and space and just hang there around her from invisible threads. Rochelle could feel Nick, hovering behind her, still holding open the front door. She could hear him breathing in the silent house. She was staring around the room in disbelief that just a few months ago this had been her life. Everything was exactly where it'd been that night, almost. Other than packing, she hadn't been home since he'd died. Everything looked the same as it had been in his eyes last time he'd been here - other than the thin veil of dust that now seemed to coat everything.

Rochelle moved deeper into the house, her hands shaking, and Nick closed the door. She felt like they were invading somehow, like how tomb raiders in the Egyptian Pyramids must feel. The place had an almost sacred essence, and AJ's scent and memory was so thick that it was like he was pressing in against her from every angle, like she was drowning in AJ.

Nick moved silently into the living room and she heard him sit on a chair, but his presence barely mattered anymore. She moved further, stepping from room to room, turning on lights as she went, staring around at what felt like a museum of her past. Like little mind movies, memories slipped in her mind as she looked around, various bits of her time spent with AJ. Her entire life from before felt like it'd been kept sealed in an airtight Ziplock baggie.

By the time she made it back to the living room, Nick was asleep in the chair. She wondered if this was what he did, come here to sleep. She wondered why, what it was about coming here that was soothing for him.

She stood in front of the mantle and looked up at their wedding picture that hung there next to a single dried rose, preserved from her bouqet. She stared at AJ's face in the frame, at the curve of his cheeks which had slowly but surely filled out the longer she'd known him, his dark brown eyes that always held just a tinge of sadness, even when he was his very happiest. She reached out and traced his shape with her finger tip against the glass.

"Oh God," she choked the words out, tears suddenly shaking her body. She backed away from the mantle. She covered her eyes, "Oh shit. I miss him so fucking much," she sobbed into her hands.

The sound of her reaction to the photo must've woken Nick up because the next thing she knew he was there, with his arms wrapped around her, steadying her, pulling her close. Nick had no idea what made him do it. It was like a reflex when she cried out to grab hold of her, to try to comfort her. He realized as she cried, pressing her face against his chest, that he hated the sound of her tears, that he felt like he would gladly slay a thousand dragons to keep this woman from crying a single, precious tear. And despite the conversation on the way here, despite everything Rochelle had to say, he felt guilty.

"It's okay," Nick whispered into her hair as Rochelle trembled against him, "It's okay."

Rochelle's tears soaked his shirt and Nick felt the wet spot they had created against his skin, and his heartbeat rose as Rochelle's hand pressed against his chest. He closed his eyes, a strange, twisting feeling coming over him. Her hand moved and her fingers found the scar, a puckered line that ran across his chest and just barely peeked out from the top of his shirt. Her hand paused, her fingers feeling it slowly, gently.

Rochelle opened her eyes. She stared at the little bit of it that peeked out of the V-neck shirt that he was wearing.

"Can I see it?" she asked.

Nick pulled his shirt off slowly.

The dark strip cut across Nick's chest, like a zipper holding him closed. It was still healing, still a little raw. She stared at it intently. Behind that scar, inside that chest, lay the only living piece of AJ still remaining: his heart, his very essence. The part that loved her.

With a shaking hand, Rochelle reached out and lay her palm against the spot where AJ's heart was. She closed her eyes. "Does that hurt?" she asked in a breath.

"No," Nick whispered thickly.

Rochelle drew her hand away and slowly moved closer, laying her head against his chest, her ear exactly where her hand had just been, her eyes flooding with tears that streamed across her face.

Ba-bump. Ba-bump. Ba-bump.

"I miss you," she whispered in response to the heartbeat.

Ba-bump. Ba-bump. Ba-bump.

Nick's breathing was slow, barely existent.

Ba-bump. Ba-bump. Ba-bump.

It was like the beats were saying her name.

Rochelle. Rochelle. Rochelle.

"Christ, it's like I can hear him," Rochelle whispered and without thinking, she moved her head and pressed her lips against Nick's chest, though in her mind she was kissing AJ.

Her lips were wet and warm and Nick closed his eyes, his hands shaking. A part of him wanted to push her away, to tell her to stop and step back, but this was Rochelle, and she was hurting. If touching his scar and listening to AJ's heart pumping inside him - like he was some kind of crazy human incubator - was what would help her, then he owed it to AJ to let her do it. Didn't he? Maybe nobody else in the entire world would understand this, but nobody else in the entire world had to know.

Rochelle. Rochelle. Rochelle.

She pulled him back to the couch and he let her lay him down and she curled up next to him, her head pressed against his chest, her hand on his scar, listening and feeling in the dark as they lay there.

Eventually, they fell asleep.


-----


Nick woke up with the sun on his face, burning his eyes. He felt his cellphone vibrating against his leg in his pants pocket. He looked at her dark hair spread across his chest and smiled, reaching to push a strand of it behind away from her face so he could see her, thanking God for a woman like this, a woman who he loved, who --

And then he realized what he was thinking and that this was Rochelle.

A horrified feeling smashed into him, and pieces started falling into his mind to complete the image: They weren't at home, they were at AJ's house. Rochelle was sleeping, her face pressed against his bare chest. The cellphone was ringing. It was morning. They hadn't told Lauren where they were going. He hadn't even left a note. He struggled to pull the phone out of his pocket, disturbing Rochelle as he did so, and he wrangled himself out from under her, perching on the arm of the couch.

"Who's calling so early, Monkey?" Rochelle asked as his body disappeared from beneath her. She smiled as she snuggled into the couch cushion.

"Oh Jesus," Nick muttered, seeing Lauren's face on his phone's caller ID.

At the sound of his voice, Rochelle looked up, a shocked expression on her face as her eyes landed on Nick - not AJ. Nick. "Oh fuck." She sat up. Her hands flew to her body to feel for clothing even as she asked, "We didn't ---"

"No," he said. Then, "No." He emphasized the word. "Shut up a second." He clicked answer on his phone. "Hey babe," he said.

"Where the fuck are you?" Lauren's voice came through the line, terrified and rift with panic. It shook. He could tell she was crying, was probably hysterical.

"I'm sorry baby, Ro and I are at her place," he said, "She wanted to see the house."

"In the middle of the night?!" Lauren shrieked.

"Yeah," Nick said. "I was -- I was up and she heard me and she asked me to - to go with her."

"Why isn't there a note?"

"I'm sorry," Nick apologized. He looked at Rochelle's face, which was pale. She looked ready to throw up or something. "We'll... we'll be right home. I'll explain then. Love you." Before she could argue or say a thing more, Nick hung up and turned his phone off. She was gonna kill him. He looked at Rochelle with concern. "Nothing happened," he stressed the words firmly. "Nothing.."

Rochelle grabbed a throw pillow and hugged it to her chest. She stared up at him, his hair was messy and the scar seemed to glow off his pale chest. "I'm sorry," she whispered, "I'm so sorry. Was she mad?"
"She...will be all right," Nick said slowly. He got up off the couch, bent down and picked his shirt up off the floor and tugged it on over his head. He turned back to Rochelle. "Look, Lauren... she doesn't know I've been coming here. It would creep her out."

"It is a little creepy," Rochelle admitted.

"I know," he said. "But she'd be really weirded out by it, so I'd really appreciate it if we didn't tell her."

They gathered themselves and headed out to the car. Nick held the passenger door open for her and climbed in himself and they drove back to his house in complete silence. He parked in the driveway and stared up at the house, not a single word had passed between them since they'd been in AJ's living room. The front door opened and Lauren stood in the frame of it, staring over at them.

"So um, where'd we land on what we're telling her?" Nick asked quietly.

"It was my idea," Rochelle confirmed.

"Thank you," Nick said.

"On two conditions," Rochelle added.

"Okay," Nick answered.

"Condition one," Rochelle said, "You don't tell her about -- about me touching you and sleeping on you last night."

Nick laughed, "I like my balls attached to my body, no worries about me telling her that."

"And condition two," Rochelle continued, "If you go there again, you will bring me with you."

Nick nodded. "Okay."

"Okay," Rochelle said.

"It's our secret, then," Nick said.

"Yes," Rochelle said.

"Okay then."

They climbed out of the vehicle and started toward the front door. A heavy feeling of companionship fell over Nick as they walked toward the front door. It made Nick think of the Goonies coming up out of the pirate cave, the feeling of comradeship and connection that existed between people only after they'd been through something nobody else in the world would understand.

"I was worried half to death," Lauren cried as they came near.

"At least it wasn't all the way to death," Nick joked, a charming grin flashing across his face.

Chapter Seventeen

"Which one do you think looks more Nick-ish?" Lauren asked, holding up two photos. One was of a wedding on a cliff face over looking an sunset oceanview, and the other was a wedding on board an oceanliner. "Helen needs to know so she can book the place. I don't know which I like better. I mean they're both beautiful and the ocean's in both so like Nick will be all 'oh yay the ocean' either way, but ---" Lauren paused, squinted at Rochelle. "Ro?"

Rochelle blinked. "What? she focused on the pictures. "Those are nice."

Lauren lowered the photos and eyed Rochelle, "Ro-Ro, when was the last time you slept?" she asked pointedly.

Rochelle felt like it'd been forever. It seriously had been a couple days. The night she and Nick had spent at AJ's house had been the last time she'd slept soundly. Since then, she'd spent long nights tossing and turning and trying to resist going and finding Nick and listening to AJ's heartbeat again. She groaned, "I'm sorry, Laur," she said, "I'm just so tired."

Lauren sighed, "You should go to bed early tonight."

Rochelle nodded, even though she knew it wouldn't help no matter how early she went.

Lauren turned back to the photos. "I think Nick would look gorgeous on that cliff. Don't you? His hair would catch the wind and his eyes -- God they'd like exactly match that water, huh? And maybe we could get his tux a blue tie..."

"Nick Carter would be gorgeous anywhere," Rochelle said bluntly.

Lauren laughed, "It's true," she nodded. "Nick would probably like the boat more, knowing him, but I feel like it'd be too 'BSB Cruise' and not enough 'once-in-a-life-time-romantic-event'."

Rochelle nodded.

"What do you think?" Lauren asked.

Rochelle shrugged, "They're both nice."

Lauren whined, "Help me piiiick one!"

Rochelle groaned, "Ugh I'm like the worst maid of honor ever, aren't I?"

Lauren sighed, "Well you do kind of suck."

"I won't be offended if you fire me and hire Leighanne," Rochelle laughed.

"Ew, one word for you: Taffetta."

Rochelle smiled, "Guess you better keep me around, then."

Lauren sighed, "I guess so. Just... you better stop sucking."


-----



Nick was sitting in his office, scribbling notes onto scraps of paper at two o'clock in the morning, when a knock came at the door. Probably Lauren, come to fetch him from his late night revelries, he thought, and he clicked off the desk lamp and went to the door, "Sorry," he whispered, "I just had this thought I had to get out and --" but he found himself face-to-face with Rochelle.

"Can we talk?" Rochelle asked.

Nick nodded and stepped back to let her into the room. She slipped past him and sat on his couch. The room was only illuminated by the fish tank he had in one wall, an eerie green-blue color. Nick sat down next to her. "Yeah?"

"The other night..." she said slowly, "At my place. When I listened to AJ's -- to your heart -- I slept so good." Rochelle bit her lips.

Nick stared at her.

Rochelle's eyes filled with tears, "Nick I can't sleep without it."

"What?"

"I used to sleep on AJ's chest like that so I could hear his heart beat and I can't sleep without it." A tear rolled across her face, "I try and I just keep rolling over and tossing and turning and I can't handle it. I think about him all night. In Japan I would go sit on the balcony or stare up at the stucco ceiling, and I'm so tired... I need to sleep."

Nick realized what she was getting at. He drew a deep breath and stood up. He pulled open his desk drawer and got a pad of paper out.

"What're you doing?" Rochelle asked.

"Writing Lauren a note. I don't want her freaking out that we aren't here in the morning again."

Rochelle paused. "We can just stay here," she suggested.

Nick turned around. "Isn't that weird, though?"

"Why?"

"I dunno, because... I dunno." He shrugged.

Rochelle stood up. She walked across the room and stepped up to Nick. She reached for the hem of his shirt and slipped it off over his head and laid her hands on his chest. He bit his lip, watching her. Rochelle took his hand and pulled him gently to the couch, where he laid down and she lay beside him, her head over his heart.

Long after Rochelle had fallen asleep - which was pretty much immediately - Nick lay awake, staring at the fishtank, thinking. He didn't know why it was weirder to be doing this here, at home, than it would be if they were at AJ's. He supposed it had something to do with being in his territory, under the same roof as Lauren. At AJ's house, it had felt like a duty, something he wanted to do while here it felt like a violation of something, like something was being taken away, but he wasn't sure what.


-----



"And what do you think that means?" asked Nick's psychologist, a middle aged guy named Chuck that reminded him of Bill Murray. He peered at Nick over the legal pad he was making notes on.

Nick shrugged. "I don't know." He looked at his hands, "It just... bugged me, or something. It wasn't bad. I don't know." He picked at the skin around his thumbnail.

Chuck chewed on the eraser of his pencil for a moment, then uncrossed his legs and leaned forward, "You said you felt like something was being taken away."

"Yeah."

"That carries negative cannotations."

"But it wasn't like a badthing," Nick said. "I mean, I really love Rochelle," he sighed, "It's just hard is all, I think."

"You love her?"

"As a friend," Nick ammended. He scratched his leg.

"Did you feel violated?"

"No."

Chuck studied Nick a moment. "Turned on?" he tried.

"Not really," Nick replied. He paused. "Well, maybe a little. Yeah. But not like irrestiably."

"And how are things going with Lauren?" Chuck asked.

Nick shrugged, "We're engaged."

"You don't sound ecstatic," Chuck observed.

"I am," Nick argued.

"You do you still feel guilty about Alex?" Chuck asked.

Nick nodded.

"Did you do those journaling exercises we talked about?"

"Yeah," Nick nodded.

"And how did it feel getting those feelings out?" Chuck questioned.

Nick shrugged, "Felt okay." He paused. "Do hearts ever... I dunno, change a person? When they aren't originally their hearts anymore?"

Chuck leaned back and rubbed his chin. "How do you mean?"

"Like do they have feelings different then their new people would have? Like stuff the heart felt in its old person?" Nick didn't know how to put words to what he was asking.

"There've been cases that it seems the heart has changed a person," Chuck replied. "The cases are rare, and typically believed to be mostly based in psychology more than physiology..."

Nick nodded. "So...it's controllable. It's not like inevitable."

"Certainly not."

"Okay good."

"Is this something you would like to talk about?" Chuck asked.

Nick hesitated. "No," he replied.

Chapter Eighteen


Rochelle drained the last of her glass of champagne, and grabbed the stem of Lauren's untouched glass, which had been left on the little taffetta-covered table in the bridal shop they were dress-hunting at. She hugged her knees to her chest as she held the glass. Across the room, three identical Rochelles did the same thing in the reflection from a gaudy multi-panel mirror that looked like something straight out of the Littrell house. Rochelle could picture the thing in the corner of Leighanne's "boudoir" as she called her oversized, custom-built walk-in closet.

Actually everything about Helen Von Troump had reminded Rochelle a little of Leighanne and she was relieved she hadn't gone to Helen Von Troump for her wedding with AJ after all. AJ had turned out to be the perfect wedding planner in the end. She looked around the room. She had a feeling their gothic themed wedding would've looked more like a marshmellow if she'd managed to get Helen involved. Not that it was bad, Rochelle just had a different taste than Helen and Leighanne, who she was convinced would've gotten along perfectly. In fact, Rochelle pictured Leighanne being Helen in 30 years time.

Having thought that, she had to choke back a laugh as Helen swept back into the room. She had long grey hair tucked back in a ponytail and wide eyes that were made to look even larger by the huge, hot-pink glasses that she wore. They were magnified by the lenses and accented by teal jewel tone eye shadow. Helen Von Troump looked like a retired Disney Princess forced to work at a 1950s diner.

But whatever Helen looked like Lauren looked like an angel when she came through the door behind her wearing a dress that hung like a bell from her waist and just barely touched the floor. Rochelle sat forward and put the glass on the table, her eyes wide as Lauren stepped in front of the gaudy mirror and turned, looking at the dress from every angle. She turned and looked at Rochelle. Her hands flew to her chest, "Are my boobs big enough for this dress?" she asked.

Rochelle nodded, "Your boobs are perfect for that dress," she replied. She stood up and made Lauren turn around again to look at the mirror. Rochelle reached up and pulled Lauren's hair up and held it in a pile on the top of her head. "You look fantastic."

Lauren stared at her reflection. "It's a pretty dress."

"It's kind of perfect," Rochelle agreed.

Lauren glanced down at her chest again and her hair tumbled out of Rochelle's hand. "Are you sure about the chest, though? I feel like it shows off more than I really have or something..."

"Skin is not a bad thing. Have you met Nick? He's gonna be all over that."

Lauren nodded. She laughed, "You'd fill this out way better than me," she said.

"I'd never get my ass in that dress," Rochelle laughed back.

"Are the straps in the back okay?" Lauren turned and Rochelle investigated the bodice lacing across Lauren's back.

"Again, it's perfect," Rochelle said.

Lauren laughed, "I can't believe the first dress I try on is the dress," she said. "Things are going so smooth..." she hesitated, her eyes landing on the champagne glasses on the taffetta table. Lauren turned back to the mirror, her face thoughtful. "Maybe I shouldn't be buying a dress this early on in the planning," she said.

"Why?" Rochelle asked.

Lauren shrugged, studying herself in the mirror, "What if I gain weight or something?"

Rochelle snorted. "Lauren you've been the same weight for as long as I've known you."

"You never know," Lauren answered.

"Get the dress," Rochelle said, "It's incredibly perfect, it makes you look gorgeous, and you'll regret it if you don't."

Lauren nodded.

"Nick's gonna salivate when he sees it," Rochelle added.

Lauren laughed.

Helen Von Troump, who'd stayed silent until this point, suddenly leaped into the picture and climbed up on the stool that the brides usually stood on and slid a tiara with a veil attachment onto Lauren's head. It took the stool to get her close enough to reach Lauren's head. The veil slipped over Lauren's face. "Like an absolute dream," cooed Helen in a dreamy, whispy sort of voice that forcibly made Rochelle think of Professor Trelawny, the divination teacher of the Harry Potter series. Helen stepped back. "Add the bouquet of wild roses we spoke about before you're an absolute dream."

Lauren met her own eyes in the mirror, "I feel like I'm dreaming," she mumbled.


-----



Nick walked into the house after his trip to see his psychologist and found the note on the table in the kitchen telling him the girls had gone dress shopping, but Lauren had left a plate of food for him in the fridge. He opened the door and saw a plate covered in plastic wrap with a bunch of carrot and celery sticks and ranch with a half a sandwich. He pursed his lips and glanced at the note. They weren't gonna be back 'til five... he glance at the clock... and picked up the phone and ordered a large meatball sub to be delivered. He took the plate out of the fridge and carried it to the living room and flopped into the sofa cushions.

Panda, Igby, and Nacho followed him into the living room. Panda and Igby jumped onto the couch beside him. Nick split the sandwich into three pieces and gave each of them a piece. "Gotta make Lauren think I ate it," he said, "You guys score big time." Igby dropped his piece onto the carpet and backed away, glaring up at Nick. Nick bent over and picked the piece up and offered it to Panda. "Sorry, Iggers," he said, "Why do you think I don't want that shit?" he asked.

He flipped through the channels until he found a football replay and leaned back, holding the remote control and staring at the screen. Panda snuggled against Nick's leg. He ran his hand over the snarly little mess of a dog. "Fuck this game is boring," he muttered and he grabbed the remote and started flipping through the channels.

By the time the door bell rang and Nick's sub had arrived, he was almost completely absorbed by the drama on some reality show he'd found about models who were competing to get a shoot with a major company. He peeled himself away and got the sub and paid the delivery guy and headed back to the show. He was so engulfed that when five o'clock came and Lauren and Rochelle got home, he hadn't gotten up to throw away the wrapper to his sub.

Luckily for Nick, Lauren was carrying the dress she'd bought and was charging up the stairs rather than checking in on Nick right away. But Rochelle raised an eyebrow from the doorway, "Enjoy those carrot and celery sticks, did you?" she asked.

Nick looked up, spotted the wrapper and balled it, "Don't tell," he said thickly, shoving the wrapper into the cushions.

"Don't tell me what?" Lauren asked, coming up behind Rochelle after depositing the dress carefully in the closet.

"Nothing," Nick replied.

Rochelle grinned, "It's okay, Nicky, I don't think your baby minds you were checking out America's Next Top Model..."

Lauren rolled her eyes.

"What? It's dramatic," he said.

"And I'm sure your interest has nothing at all to do with the cleavage."

Nick shrugged, "I mean that was a bonus..." But even as he said the words he realized how AJ watching that show was and he cursed himself silently because it'd been less than two hours before that he'd sworn to himself he was gonna stop letting himself get involved with AJ-related things.

Like Rochelle.

Lauren turned the TV off. "Are you hungry?" she asked, "I know I didn't leave you a huge meal but I thought we could all go out tonight..."

Rochelle was smirking over Lauren's shoulder.

Nick had a feeling that this not getting involved with AJ-like things thing was going to be a lot harder than originally planned.

Nick nodded. "Yeah, that sandwich, wow, was good." Panda belched his agreement.