~ Chapter Fifty Five ~

"Um... I think... we're, um, well..."  Nick stammered, before shooting a pleading look at Howie.

"Disappointed."  Howie interjected, looking out at the sea of reporters and television cameras at the postgame press conference.  "Right now, I would have to say the clubhouse is pretty disappointed."  That was an understatement.  AJ was in a bat slinging, chair throwing, table kicking rage, and Buddy Williams had wisely decided reporters would be better off staying out of the clubhouse.  He had then dictated to Howie and Nick they were to go field questions. 

"About McLean's performance tonight..."  Bob Carter started, using his most fake, most sincerely polite announcers voice.  "... Earlier in the season, AJ said that he wasn't a player that cared about win loss records, or who won the game... could that have been a factor in tonight's loss?"

Howie glanced over at Nick, hoping he wanted to answer that.  Nick was staring in disgust at his father.

Howie interrupted, before Nick flipped his lid.  "I don't know exactly what was going through AJ's head out there on the mound, but no, I don't think that had anything to do with the game tonight.  We're not going to sit and ask ourselves what happened tonight.  Right now, the only thing we can do is put it behind us, move on, and come back tomorrow and beat the Dodgers."

"One more question."  The PR guy told the journalists.

"Who do you feel has the upper hand in the Series right now?"  A tall man in a tweed sports jacket and polo shirt - standard sports reporter attire - held his microphone up.

Nick stopped the stare-down with his father and glanced up.  "I think the Dodgers got the advantage in game four." 

~*~

"Hi, Nick!"  Becky yelled across the lobby, repeating it two more times for good measure.

Nick shook his head as the little girl charged across the carpet as fast as her pink shoed feet could carry her.  "Hey, Becky." 

"Guess what!"  Becky stopped in front of him, her round little face turned up towards him.  "I got to watch the game in Brian's room tonight."

"Did you?"  Nick said absently.  There was no doubt about it now, he was getting sick.  He felt terrible, his head hurt, his neck hurt, and his right arm was still sore from when he had dove for second base during the game.  Right now all he really wanted to do was go to bed. 

"Yep.  I did."  Becky bobbed her head, making the topknot of blond curls on top bounce up and down. 

"Becky, would you quit running ahead like that?"  Kevin and Karen finally caught up to their daughter, Kevin shaking his head in annoyance. 

Karen gave Nick a bright smile.

"I saw Nick." Becky explained, not fazed in the slightest at her father's lecturing.

"Yeah, well..."  Kevin grumbled.

"How's Brian?"  Nick wondered, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand and trying to make his brain focus for just a few more minutes. 

Kevin glanced down at Becky, then back up at Nick, before shrugging his shoulders.  Kevin's eyes were saying something completely different.

Brian wasn't doing too good. 

"He's asleep now."  Karen added, slipping one arm around Kevin and leaning up against his shoulder. 

"Okay.  That's good..."  Nick stepped back, intending to head for the elevators. "I'm gonna get to bed."  He didn't feel like standing there and watching the two of them.  It only reminded him that he and Stacy still weren't all squared up. 

"Goodnight, Nick!"  Becky called after him as he headed for the elevators. 

Nick waved one hand in response.  He had been planning to call Stacy back after he had hung up so abruptly the night before.  Now it was too late - it was almost midnight in Minneapolis.  There was no way she was still awake.  Stacy usually out like a light by ten, and if she wasn't, she was having serious trouble keeping her eyes open. 

AJ was standing next to the elevator door, savagely punching the button every few seconds.

"S---, c'mon!"  AJ shouted, smacking the buttons on the wall with the flat of his hand. 

"AJ... chill!"  Nick reached over and pushed the button, giving AJ a `what's your problem' glare.  The elevator doors slid open, and AJ stalked inside, ignoring Nick.

Nick leaned against the metal wall of the elevator and closed his eyes, the rising effect making his head spin.  This wasn't his life - Kevin was being nice to him, and now AJ was flipping out.  No wonder he felt like things were spinning out of control.

~*~

"Hi."  AJ said shortly.  Right now probably wasn't the best time for him to call home - AJ was still so mad he could barely see straight - but he was used to calling when he got back to the hotel after a game, and had done it automatically. 

"Oh, Alex."  Felicia said quietly.  He supposed there wasn't a whole lot else she could say.  AJ still couldn't believe that last pitch.  It had even been a fairly decent pitch, maybe a little high, but still, a good strike.

"How're you?"  AJ rolled over on his back, the phone cord tangling around his neck.  It would make a great headline - `Losing pitcher strangles to death on phone cord' - he could see it now.  Even so, with the way his evening seemed to be heading, it wouldn't have worked. 

"How am I?"  Felicia repeated. "I'm... I don't know how to describe it.  I really don't.  They ended the broadcast with that shot of you sitting on the mound.  Your mother almost broke the TV."

AJ almost smiled.  Denise had done a number on appliances before.  He wouldn't have been surprised.  It was yet another so called talent he had inherited from her.  Thanks to his mother's genes, he had spent a good five minutes trying to get the key card to unlock his door tonight.  Nick had stood and watched in disbelief, before grabbing the card out of AJ's hand and opening the door for him. 

"I just can't believe it."  AJ's mind went back to that last pitch he had thrown, just like it had been doing ever since the game ended. He could still see it clearly - the ball catching the outside of the plate, Christiansen swinging - and the ball flying out towards right field. 

It hadn't looked like a home run. The entire time, he had been desperately hoping Nick was going to catch that ball, but by the time it reached the wall, Nick didn't stand a chance.  "Why this game, Lissie?  Out of all the stupid games I've pitched in my entire life - why the one I really wanted to win?" 

"I don't know."  She sounded sympathetic, and right now AJ wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.  It would have been better if he had still been mad.  Now the anger had worn off and he was just depressed, more than a little upset and getting closer and closer to just breaking down and crying.

"Alex, how's Brian?"  Felicia asked.  "The media isn't really saying anything."

"What do you mean, how's Brian?"  This was another subject AJ really didn't need to think about right now.  "Brian's dying."

"Well, I know that."  Felicia didn't use sarcasm unless she was upset. That made him feel even worse.  He didn't mean to drag her into his mood.  All that would happen because of that was Felicia stressing out, and ending up wiped out in bed, and that wouldn't help AJ at all.

"No, I mean..."  AJ couldn't bring himself to say it.  No one really could.  It was pretty much assumed in the clubhouse that Brian wasn't going to be leaving the hospital anytime soon, but no one wanted to say he was dying.  As long as no one said it, then it could be pushed aside.

"Have you talked to him?"  Felicia interrupted his train of thought.

"No."  AJ sighed.  "I thought about it... I couldn't quite bring myself to go over there."

They both sat in silence for a moment. 

"So what are you doing to do?"  Felicia said finally.

"Well..."  AJ frowned.  "I figure I have three options.  I could sit here and cry over all of this, I could crawl under the bed and refuse to come out, or I could crawl under the bed and cry."

"S---, I wish I was down there."  Felicia muttered darkly.

AJ almost dropped the receiver.  "I just saw a pig fly by my window.  Did you just SWEAR?"  His wife didn't swear.  He wasn't sure why; there were some things that Felicia just didn't do.  She didn't get mad or upset, the exception being the periods when she was sick.  She didn't swear. She never left the house without lipstick. 

"What?  It's not like I don't swear."  She defended.

"Oh, right.  When was the last time - high school?" 

"Maybe once or twice since then."  Felicia admitted. 

"I'm gonna go see Brian tomorrow."  AJ hadn't really decided that until the words were out of his mouth.  Now that it had been said, he was feeling a little uneasy.  Hospitals weren't high on his list of favorite things to begin with, and visiting a dying friend wasn't something he really wanted to do.  However, if he didn't, AJ had a feeling he would end up regretting it later.

"This is depressing."  Felicia decided.

"Tell me about it."  AJ yawned.  "Okay... time for bed.  I'll see you Monday, okay?"

"Call me tomorrow."  Felicia instructed.

"Don't I always?  I love you, Lissie.  Don't let Mom near sharp objects for the next couple days, okay?" 

She laughed.  "I love you more.  Go to bed, everything will look a lot better in the morning."

"It can't get any worse."  AJ pointed out. "G'night, Lissie."

He unwrapped the phone cord from his neck and flopped over on his face, pulling the pillow over his head.  He was right, this couldn't get any worse.  He couldn't wait for this Series to be over.