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Chapter Ninety-Five
Point of View: Narrator


"...was transported to the Los Angeles County Corrections Center, following a blaze that destroyed his home earlier this evening. Carter, who is being held as the prime suspect in the murder of his former girlfriend, pop starlet Krystal Armaletto, who died earlier this month in a car crash just outside of the city..."

Leon crowed and jumped up off his bed. He rushed to the bars of his door and banged on them, yelling loudly, "He's coming! He's coming! He's fucking on his way!" People were yelling and banging back, a general ruckus was going on through the halls, echoing.

If they hurry, Leon thought, rubbing his hands together, I could be choking him by dinner. But at the very most, breakfast.



"Brian! Get down here!" Leighanne screamed from the bottom of the stairs. Her voice was frantic.

Brian, who was in the process of reading Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire to Baylee, paused in the middle of doing a really good impression of Mad Eye Moody's voice during the scene when he teaches the kids the unforgivable curses, and closed the book slowly. "I'll be right back, mommy must've found a spider --" he said, laughing and winking at his son. "Mommy's worse than Ron Weasley is."

Baylee laughed.

"BRIAN," Leighanne shrieked.

Brian jumped up and dropped the book onto the end of Baylee's bed. "Hold on a second, buddy." He ran down the stairs, taking them two at a time. "What's wrong?" he asked as he got closer. "Spider? Roach? June bug?"

"Nick."

Brian followed her numbly as she dragged him into the living room. On TV there was a giant blur of fire. Brian squinted at it. In the center of it was the faint outline of Nick's house.

"Oh Jesus, no. Tell me he's not in that," he begged, eyes wide.

"Brian, they're transporting him to jail."

Brian paled.

"I've got to get down there," he said, bolting toward the door. "Ohmigawd. They can't do this to him. He's gonna- he's.."

"I know," Leighanne said, rushing after Brian. Brian struggled to kick his sneakers onto his feet. It took several attempts before he realized they were on the wrong sides and he sat down and fixed them. Leighanne snatched his wallet and keys off a side table and handed him a jacket.

"I should've listened to you earlier," he muttered.

Leighanne nodded sadly.

Brian sighed and ran a hand through his hair, the other hand on the knob of the door, about to step out. He suddenly dropped back down into the chair and tears filled his eyes. "Oh Jesus," he mumbled.

Leighanne knelt down next to his knee and rubbed his thigh gently in a comforting manner. "Brian, it's okay."

"No it isn't," he said, shaking his head. "Jesus, my best friend is going through hell and I'm too stubborn to apologize to him. And now this?" He hung his head.

"It's okay, baby," she whispered.

"I gotta get him out of this stupid situation," Brian said, "Somehow."

"Go and see him," she told him.

Brian nodded and stood up. She did, too. "Baylee's still awake," he said, "We're reading Goblet of Fire."

"I can't do the voices like you do," she said.

"I'm sure he'll help," Brian answered and he gave her a quick kiss, and was out the door, running for the Jeep.



It was a long shot, considering it hadn't worked all day, but Brian tried the California number for D Hernandez once more while he was driving to the corrections center. His hand shook as the phone rang... waiting... wondering... Would Desi pick up?



The commotion still intense around him, Desi had tucked himself into a corner, obscured by some bushes, and was sitting on the grass. Across the lawn, the house was smoldering, the firemen having gotten the blaze out for the most part. Only a few beams stood to hold the roof up over the left side of the house, closest to the ocean. Smoke streamed into the atmosphere, a fine snow-like powder of ashes coated everything. The ambulance had left, carrying Zoe and Kayla away, hours before, and AJ, who had turned around and looked for Desi for several long moments, had finally sworn, given up, and gone after them in his truck.

Now it was just a swarm of jaded paparazzi, a chatty news caster from the local Fox affiliate, and a crap ton of cops and investigators.

When his phone vibed, he was so upset over the scene before him, that he answered it without looking at the caller ID on the LCD. "Hello?" he asked.

"H-Hey," the voice on the other end was stunned. "Desi?"

"Yes?" he asked, confused.

"Desi Hernandez?"

"Yes..."

"This is Brian Littrell, I'm a friend of Nick Carter's..." he paused.

Desi closed his eyes. "I'm sorry," he said.

"Excuse me?" Brian asked.

"I'm sorry," Desi repeated. "I didn't mean to do... this."

"Do what?" Brian asked.

Desi opened his eyes and stared at the wreckage of Nick's home. "I'm just sorry," he replied. With a shaking hand he reached into the hole in the liner of his jacket and pulled out his gun.

"I'm not sure what you're apologizing for," Brian started, as Desi lifted the gun to his mouth. His teeth clicked as they closed around the barrel. He took a deep breath, the flavor of the gun being drawn into his mouth. He closed his eyes and started to lower the cell phone as Brian finished, "But we need your help. Nick needs your help."

Desi opened his eyes, his mouth still closed on the gun, his eyes roaming to the ash and smoke, the remains of the beautiful home Nick had owned just hours before. Guilt raged within him.

"Help how?" his voice strained around the gun barrel.

"Nick didn't kill Krystal," Brian said, "Krystal killed herself. We need someone to help us prove that Krystal was suicidal... or else they're going to put Nick into jail. Well. They have already done that now," he amended, imagining Nick behind bars.

Desi felt his mind weighing possibilities.

"Please," Brian's meek voice dipped into pleading. "He's - I know he... I know he's like 'the other guy' to you, I know you both loved the same woman. I know you probably want to protect her as much as I want to protect him. But Desi, she is gone... If her story can help save Nick, who is still here, isn't it worth it?"

Desi's hand shook, his finger still on the trigger.

"Would you consider making a statement in Nick's favor? Please?" Brian begged.

Desi closed his eyes.

His finger's muscles tightened.

"You're the only hope," Brian's voice was sad... desperate.

Desi's eyes opened. His wrist slackened, the gun dropped from his mouth. He took a deep breath.

"Okay," he whispered. "I'll help."