January 2016
Nick had never felt so defeated as he did now.
And a gut feeling told him that the entire thing was his fault. And his gut was right, he knew. Brian lay still, for now and Nick watched him like a hawk. His friend had been having seizures almost every 90 minutes or so and Nick was more than ready to jump back into action when Brian would start shaking again. It was hell, for both of them. Nick hadn’t really slept in almost a week now, but he knew it was his entire fault.
He’d told Brian, no, he even convinced him to do the treatment. It hadn’t been up to him to make that call, but he’d done it anyway.
And now Brian had to suffer through it.
Nick took a deep, shaky breath and gripped his friend’s even tighter, wondering if Brian would notice it, wondering if Brian even noticed anything anymore these days. All that was left was a cruel form of life. Not something Nick would wish upon anyone, ever. And he had to watch, he couldn’t look away. He had put his friend in this situation, it was all his fault. But still...
“I’m fixing the lake, Brian,” he whispered, not expecting a reaction from his friend and not receiving one. “It’s coming along quite nicely, actually. I went there yesterday for a few hours. You know, when Baylee and Kev were here to keep you company instead? I was at the lake, Brian. It’s getting clean again. I promise I’ll have it fixed really soon. It’ll get clean water and we’re building a nice little dock so people can take out their little boats over the water. Just little ones, Bri. The lake is not big or deep enough for larger boats. That’s alright though, it looks really cute so far. We got rid of all the algae in there, because yuck. It smells a lot better already and it looks a lot fresher too. When it’s done, I’ll show you. You wouldn’t be able to recognize it. We could have people have swimming lessons in there again. We might make it a public pool of sorts, but then, you know, in a lake. It’ll totally need a new name, though. I don’t even remember what it was called before, do you?”
Nick bit his lip, tears falling slowly from his eyes and rolling lazily over his cheeks. He didn’t mind. The last few weeks had destroyed him emotionally, but it was the cost he had to pay. He absently rubbed his thumb over Brian’s bony hand, trying to bring back some life in those cold fingers. “The lake is getting cleaned up again, Bri. I’m bringing it back. It’s getting better. And so are you,” he grunted, clenching his teeth as he swallowed the lump in his throat unsuccessfully. “The tumour shrunk, Bri. It worked. Well, sort of.” Nick looked at the crispy white sheets of the bed. Yes, the chemos had shrunk the tumour, that much was finally clear, but they had also destroyed everything else. Sometimes, when Nick came into this room, he thought he was in the wrong place, because he didn’t recognize his friend. Sometimes, when he walked in, he was sure for a fleeting second that Brian wasn’t breathing. Sometimes, when he came in, Nick thought that Brian had died. Those were the moments that shook him to the very core; that hurt so much that it was like being stabbed in the gut with thousands of knives.
Those were the moments that Nick knew that it was too late, that it appeared that there was no way of saving his friend anymore. That after everything they’d been through, this would be the end.
But Brian lived.
He lived. Barely. But he did. Nick wasn’t sure what was keeping him here, but as long as Brian kept breathing, Nick would stay here. The outside world didn’t seem to exist anymore, except for maybe the resurrected lake project. Nick focused his attention on it as best as he could, and had been pleasantly surprised to find out it didn’t really take that much money to clean up the area of the lake, it was just that nobody had ever bothered to do it before. And he would make sure it was squeaky clean once it was done. The towns people had no idea what he was up to, or what was happening at the lake, or why somebody even bothered to revitalize it, but Nick knew he was doing the right thing.
And maybe, just maybe, if he kept working on the lake and made it the best thing it could be, Brian would continue to live. Brian would live, and the horrible seizures would stop and the pain would disappear and he would recover fully. And Nick would be there to see it happen. He would cheer and feel so relieved. He would drag Brian to the lake and show him the work he’d accomplished there. He would buy a tiny little motorboat and they would go and fish on the lake. They would be happy and they would tell jokes and laugh hysterically and all the people that saw them on that lake would smile at them, not knowing the cause of their happiness, but being glad for them all the same.
And then, after a good full year, or maybe two, as long as was needed, of recovery, Brian could maybe rejoin the group. And they would write songs together again and sing them and record them and put them on their albums. And maybe they could tour again and make their fans happy and leave all of this crap behind them.
Brian could share the story of his fight, or not, if he didn’t want to, Nick didn’t mind. And his hair would grow back, and Baylee would have his father back and Leighanne would never cheat again.
Nick couldn’t help the smile on his face as he imagined it. If he could fix that lake on time, Brian would be fine. Yes. That was it. That was the solution. It had to be. He gasped slightly when he felt Brian move underneath him. His body was stiffening and his head was thrown back, his back arching up off the mattress, a strangled moan escaping his mouth. Before Nick could do something, Brian was shaking violently and Nick knew the convulsions would soon be starting. He’d seen the seizures many times before now, even though they hadn’t really started to come up until a week ago. Each of them had looked absolutely horrible and Nick didn’t waste any time before turning his friend on his side and holding him there. Brian’s eyes were wide open, rolling in their sockets, unseeing. But still, it looked as if he was throwing Nick desperate and hopeless glances. As if begging him to do something, to stop this madness. To stop it all. To get him out. And then Nick knew. He knew and felt his heart sink, his fragile hope crushed with the one, crystal clear realisation on his mind. He felt like throwing up, barely noticing the nurses as they held Brian down and administered the drugs directly into his arm.
“I’m not scared of dying, Nick. I’m scared of dying in here.”
He remembered the words spoken by his friend two months ago. The words were ringing through his head, clear as a bell. Was that it? Was that the only thing keeping Brian alive right now? Fear? Would Brian stay alive as long as he was here, not getting better, but rather remaining in this horrifying state of agony and despair? And although Nick didn’t really believe that, although he told himself that Brian stayed alive because he wanted to fight, somehow he knew that the only thing that would wait for them in the hospital here was death.
He felt Brian starting to calm down again underneath his arms as the drugs finally took their effect. It wouldn’t be for long. Brian’s eyes were still rolling and he was breathing with a lot of effort, the air rasping through his lungs as Nick took a hold of him and pressed him against him. Brian was panting against his chest and Nick could almost feel the pain with every breath his older friend took. He rubbed calm, soothing circles on his back, his fingers soon getting damp from Brian’s sweat. He started to hum softly, his voice breaking on every single part, but he continued, feeling his friend slowly still against him, his head lolling into the crook of Nick’s neck. It wasn’t a sad song, or anything, it wasn’t even really a song, just some tones his mind made up at the spot. Mesmerized, Nick watched his fingers move over Brian’s unmoving back, which was odd, he realized. A dark, unidentifiable feeling slowly grew deep within him, but Nick continued what he was doing, the tones flowing from him freely, getting louder as he lost control over his sobs, feeling his shoulders shake and soon his whole body joining in as the realisation that he couldn’t feel Brian’s short breaths against his neck anymore finally broke through.
A strange, unfamiliar sound filled the room and only much and much later did Nick realize that it was him that was making the noise. It wasn’t really a scream, it’s wasn’t really a cry either. It was some sort of anguished wail that left him over and over again as he held Brian in his arms, not believing that he would ever let him go. The world could fall down around him and he’d still hold his grip on his friend’s still body.
That’s how Harold found them. Nick sitting half on the bed with Brian’s lifeless form in his arms, rocking back and forth, mad with grief and it didn’t matter what he tried, Harold could not get him to let go of his brother. It took a whole team of nurses and doctors to drag Nick off of the bed and Harry felt the blood curling cries of the youngest Backstreet Boy carve through the suffocating room. Brian lay on the bed, pale and completely motionless and Harry knew immediately.
Author's Chapter Notes:
Don't mind me, I'll be in the corner, thinking about what I did.
