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A/N: As requested, here is the sequel to Permanent Tracings. I know that the timing is off in this, as Never Gone was released almost five years after Black and Blue rather than only two...but it is what works for the story! Enjoy, and as always, please leave a review!

Prologue

As Howie wrote in his journal, his right wrist caught his attention. A shiver went up his spine and then back down as he lay his pen down. He turned his wrists over, laying his arms down on the table top, studying the scars intently. It was hard to believe that it had been eighteen months ago already. Eighteen months since he’d tried to end his life. A lot had happened in that time, including a break from work, counseling sessions and a few surgeries to fade out some of the scars all over his body. He still refused to let the doctors fade out the almost fatal ones though. They were there to stay, so he’d never forget what he’d once tried to do and why he never could resort to that again.

Howie sighed. His counselor had requested him to keep a journal of some sort, for at least awhile, to tell what he was feeling. He’d told Howie that it would help a lot while he was still in his healing process. He hadn’t believed the man at first, but had decided to give it a try after he’d been home for a couple of weeks and the depression had started to come back in to his life slowly. He had to admit that it was helping.
Howie couldn’t believe that he’d let things get so out of hand. He’d been so depressed, sinking further and further, being sucked in to the black hole a little more each day until he was completely gone.

During his suicide attempt, being found by AJ at just the moment, he’d suddenly become scared, begging for help. It was as if in the few months of his depression, he’d been in a blinding haze. When AJ had found him, he’d snapped back in to reality again. Since then, he’d been getting his life back on track and was becoming the person he once was; happy, confident, and uplifting in spirits. It was a slow process, and he still had a long way to go, but there were definitely changes to be seen. With a shudder, Howie picked his pen back up again, starting to write out the last of his feelings.


....Today went pretty well. I met with the guys to talk and catch up on life in general. They’ve all been wonderful throughout this entire ordeal. I know that they don’t fully trust me, but I think things are getting better slowly each day. A.J. and I have restored our friendship now. It took a few months...or more like four but things are pretty much back to normal. He was so upset with me for so long, refusing to really talk to me at all. I really don’t blame him though. I betrayed his trust. I betrayed everybody’s trust.

Tomorrow we hit the recording studios again. I think it’s time. I believe that as long as we take things slow, I’ll be okay. I hope so at least. Every time I am having a bad day, or am a little stressed, I have to force myself with everything in me not to fall back in to my past path. That is a part of my history. I’m getting help now...I can’t resort to that again. So hopefully it isn’t too soon. I gave the guys the okay, but I’m having second thoughts already. We’ve had almost a year and a half off though, which is so much better than the original two months. I likely would have tried to kill myself either way...no, I know I would have. If I hadn’t done it that night though...who knows where I would be. Dead? It is very likely. Would I have been found by now? I don’t know. I live alone, so that’s another thing that is shaky. All I know is that being alive is great...despite everything, I am glad to be alive. Back then, I hated everything about life. I hated everything in general. I hated myself. So back to the point...we hit the recording studios again. Hopefully it will all go well. I’m nervous that if I feel too suffocated again, I won’t tell anybody and hide it again. I’ll keep it in and...well, I’m just afraid.

Howie put his pen down, reading over what he had written. In total, it had come to about three pages. On average, his entries were between two and five. It was hard for him to believe that in twenty-four hours, he’d be reunited with the guys again, back to the work that he used to love and felt he could love again if given the chance. He’d had a long talk with his friends, telling them he didn’t know if he could carry on being one of the Backstreet Boys only a couple of weeks after he’d been released from the hospital. They’d been shocked, but had respected his wishes. Only, a month later, Howie had started to get second thoughts, regretting it all and calling back, asking if he could be let back in. He didn’t know for sure, but Howie had a feeling that the Boys had known all along that he’d be back.

So here he was, about to go back on the road. He was excited, nervous and scared, but soon enough, he’d find the answers to his questions, the main one still being, was he ready?