Bond by Louise
Summary: She was the first woman he ever loved, and he'll never stop needing her.
Categories: Fanfiction > Backstreet Boys Characters: None
Genres: None
Warnings: None
Challenges:
Series: None
Chapters: 1 Completed: Yes Word count: 860 Read: 1053 Published: 05/14/06 Updated: 05/14/06

1. Chapter 1 by Louise

Chapter 1 by Louise
She carefully closed the door behind her and stepped into the room. Without hesitation she moved towards the single bed, dropping her purse and coat in a nearby chair.

She stood quietly by his side, studying his still features. He was pale, except for darker circles under his eyes. From the gauntness of his face, she could tell he'd lost weight; she frowned in disapproval. A second later, a tender smile transformed her expression as she delicately brushed a stray lock of hair away from his forehead.

She couldn't count the number of times she'd watched him sleep, witnessed his energy finally contained in slumber. She'd always treasured those stolen moments.

There was a chair near the bedside and she sat down, watching his face for any sign of movement. His breathing shifted slightly, and his head moved a fraction on the pillow, but he didn't wake. Again, she smiled.

He'd always been beautiful, although she'd stopped calling him that early on. He'd never been comfortable with such compliments; even as he'd become world famous, and the declarations of his handsomeness had come in by the bucket-load, he simply couldn't see it. But she could.

How many nights had they sat on the porch swing together, talking about his dreams and aspirations? She knew he'd achieve his goals; there was a spark within him that wouldn't be quenched by time, hardship or struggle. And although it hadn't been easy, he'd done what he'd set out to do. She couldn't possibly be more proud.

A soft sigh caught her attention, and she placed a hand on his arm. He blinked several times, getting his bearings, and she waited. A second later he registered the touch and turned his gaze towards her, momentary surprise on his face.

“Hi honey,” she said. “How are you feeling?”

“Better since you're here.”

The genuine smile he gave her lit up her world. He moved his hand to clasp hers and she moved over to give him a hug. He leaned his head on her shoulder and returned the embrace; nearly a minute went by before they pulled back.

“Why... did you come?” he asked, slightly confused.

“Why are you asking silly questions?” she countered. “Of course I came.”

He closed his eyes for a second. “Didn't have to come all the way out here,” he mumbled. “It's just some stupid flu...”

“The flu, combined with overwork from a ridiculous schedule and not eating properly-”

“I've been eating,” he said half-heartedly.

“Honey, you're skin and bones. I know how you eat when you're working, but you have to keep up your strength. You can't do that with fast food and skipped meals.”

“I eat better than any of the others...”

“None of the others are lying in a hospital bed,” she pointed out.

“It's not like I did this on purpose,” came the tired protest.

“Oh, honey, I know,” she said, giving him a gentle smile. “I don't mean to blame you, I'm just worried. When Howie told me what happened after the last show...”

“I'm sure he made more out of it than necessary,” he sighed, searching for a more comfortable position.

“He told me that you had just finished, and were back in the staging area, when you lost all color and your eyes rolled up. He said you just collapsed right where you stood. Is that true?”

“Well,” he said, not looking directly at her, “I wouldn't say 'collapsed', I-”

“Okay, fainted. Passed out. Became rapidly unconscious. Yes?”

He blew out a breath. “Yeah.”

She studied his distraught expression and realized how very tired he seemed. Patting his hand, she said, “All that's water under the bridge. What we have to focus on now is getting you better and out of this place.”

“I'm all for that.”

“I spoke to Dr. Welch, and she said that as long as your vitals remain strong you can leave in the morning.”

“Really?” he said, a spark of hope energizing his voice.

She laughed. “The hotel suite isn't home, but I think it'll be an improvement.”

“Definitely.”

“And I won't be going anywhere until I'm satisfied you're fully recovered.”

“You don't have to-”

“No arguing,” she said in a tone he knew all too well. “It's my job, after all.”

He gave a small laugh. “I'm not a baby, you know.”

“I don't care if you are 95, you will always be my baby,” she said, squeezing his hand. “Worrying about you is my job, and I've been doing it from day one.”

“I guess you have, at that.” He looked into her eyes, seeing the unconditional love that was his cornerstone. “I'm glad you came. I love you, Mom.”

“I love you too, Kevin.” She stood and adjusted the blanket around her youngest son's shoulders. She kissed his forehead and said, “Get some sleep, honey, I'll be back later.”

“M'kay,” he said as he settled down against his pillow, a small smile on his lips.

She watched him drift off almost immediately; after a minute, she left the room, her earlier worry gone. He would be fine, she was certain of it.

Mothers always knew.
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