Stopping outside of ICU room number six, Brian and AJ exchanged nervous glances at each other. Both men fearing what they were going to find. Brian saw the tears sliding out from underneath AJ’s sunglasses.

“Shit,” AJ mumbled as he wiped the tears from his cheeks. He took the initial step and pushed the door open to Nick’s room and stopped suddenly once he crossed the threshold, mouth agape.

“Oh god,” Brian cried quietly as he took in the surreal scene that laid before them.

Both men took hesitant steps toward the bed where their bandpartner lay, standing side by side as they gazed upon Nick’s pale, quiet body. The only sound in the room was the constant hiss of the respirator that was attached by tubing that went into Nick’s mouth, held in place with white surgical tape and the constant ping of the EKG monitor next to the head of the bed.

Brian cupped Nick’s hand in his, surprised at how cool it felt against his palm. He took his thumb and rubbed the top of Nick’s hand in a circular motion as he stood, tears splashing downward.

“Nick, god, you said you had it under control,” AJ rasped. “You should have told me....” He stopped when he was overwhelmed with emotion, sinking down and burying his face into Nick’s shoulder.

Brian placed a hand on AJ’s shoulder. “Shhh, Aje, it wasn’t your fault, it was an accident,” he soothed.

AJ shook his head no quickly, over and over. “No, it wouldn’t have....” AJ stopped talking as he tried to calm his voice down, “it wouldn’t have happened if I had stayed with him, it’s all my fault.”

“Please, don’t blame yourself, it was an accident,” Brian pleaded.

AJ slowly stood up, still shaking his head. He reached out and stroked Nick’s cheek. “God, you’re such a dumbass.”

Both men continued to stand at the bed, staring down at Nick. Each silently praying that this nightmare would end.

“Nick, wake up,” Brian cried.

“I’m sorry, but you must go back down to the waiting room,” a nurse softly asked AJ and Brian.

AJ leaned down and kissed Nick on the cheek. “I’ll be back, hang on Frack.”

Brian squeezed Nick’s hand and smoothed the young man’s bangs away from his forehead. “Love you, I’m praying for you,” he whispered.

Brian and AJ followed the nurse back to the waiting area, both feeling as if they had been punched in the stomach. They were met with an anxious Howie and Kevin at the door. Both looked at the two with expectant faces but neither one asked any questions, fearing the answer.

As Kevin and Howie entered the ICU room, they were followed in by a young resident medical student that walked around them and started busying himself with charting Nick’s progress and checking the machines and IV’s that surrounded Nick.

Watching the doctor lift one of Nick’s eyelids and shine a penlight into a motionless blue eye, Kevin decided now was the time to press for answers.

“Why is he in a coma?”

Wordlessly, the doctor continued with the other eye and then flipped open a chart and scribbled something hastily down.

“We need answers,” Kevin pressed.

Sighing, the resident slapped the chart closed and laid it on the bedstand. He took his glasses off and slipped them into the front pocket on his white lab coat. “Are you familiar with the Karen Ann Quinlan case?”

Kevin’s brow furrowed and he glanced over at Howie to see if he had a clue to what the doctor was asking. “The what?”

“The Karen Ann Quinlan case.”

Kevin narrowed his eyes at the young doctor. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

The man sighed once again. “Back in 1975, there was a 21 year old woman named Karen Ann Quinlan---”

“And how the hell would this apply to Nick?” Kevin interrupted.

“Let him finish,” Howie requested as he placed a calming hand on Kevin’s arm.

The physician waited for Kevin to calm down before he started speaking again. “Okay, back in 1975, Karen was at a bar and was drinking liquor and was also taking tranquilizers.”

“Okay, I still don’t follow this,” Kevin stated, folding his arms across his chest.

“Kevin, she drank and took meds, just like Nick did,” Howie pointed out.

“She came out of the coma though, right?” Kevin asked hopefully.

The young resident sadly shook his head. “No, she never woke up. She died from pneumonia in 1985.” The resident could see the despair in the two men’s faces. “But that was 1985, medicine is different now. Things can be different.”

Kevin looked down at Nick laying peacefully in the bed. “So how much time until he comes out of this then?”

The doctor shrugged his shoulders. “Not sure, but every day the patient is in this coma works against him.”