TRAPPED
*~*~Part Four~*~*
Sitting at the kitchen table, Brian listened intently to the attorney outlining the course of action on Nick's defense at the trial.
"We have a good defense set up for Nick, with your testamony and some of his medical records, but there is one piece of evidence I would love to gather, but it would be asking too much of you," the attorney remarked.
"You can ask me to do anything in the world to help Nick, I will do it," Brian replied.
"It's really risky," the attorney continued.
Brian leaned forward, his eyes locked onto the attorney's eyes. "Tell me," he growled.
"Alright, but think this through before you decide."
Brian nodded solemly.
"I would like to catch Karen Johnson with the goods, the tainted meds. Nick was arrested on the premise that he was tampering with your medication. Now if we catch Dr. Johnson with a tampered medication, we will have caught her dead to rights," the attorney stated.
"Lets do it," Brian replied without hesitation.
"But Brian, you know what the risks are---"
"I don't care if I never walk again, if it helps Nick, I'm willing to do it." Brian replied, shoving the phone towards Kevin. "Call her now."
Kevin looked at his cousin, wondering why he would jeporadize his health. Brian could sense what Kevin was thinking and snapped, "Do it now, dammit!"
The attorney gave Kevin a slip of paper with Dr. Johnson's pager number on it. Kevin dialed the number and left the message.
"Now all we do is wait for her to return the page," the attorney smiled.
"What do I tell her?" Kevin asked quickly.
"The truth," Brian replied.
Kevin and the attorney stared at Brian, puzzled by his remark.
"I've been having spasms and stuff, I don't know why, but it keeps happening," Brian stated quietly.
"Brian, why didn't you say anything?" Kevin asked.
"I'm a little leary of doctors right now, okay?" Brian replied.
The phone rang and they all sat at the table staring at it. Kevin picked it up on the third ring.
"Hello......yeah, Brian is having spasms and stuff, we were wondering if there's something you could do for that.........no, um his family doctor isn't doing anything for him........yeah he is uncomfortable....okay, see you in an hour."
Kevin hung the phone up. The attorney jumped into action. "We need Brian to lay in bed. The doctor thinks you've been medicating him up to this point, so Brian should be able to speak but not very well, can you pull that off Brian?"
Brian nodded. "Like I said, anything for Nick. I will perform an Oscar winning performance."
"Okay, let's do it," the attorney said as he got up from the table with Kevin pushing Brian's wheel chair into the bedroom.
*~*~*~*
Almost to the exact time that Dr. Johnson said she would be arriving, her car pulled into the driveway.
Kevin acknowledged her arrival and the attorney went into another bedroom down the hallway. "Brian, she's here," Kevin stated.
Brian nodded. "Now remember, anything that happens to me, anything, don't go feeling guilty about it, I'm doing this for one reason only and that's to help Nick, do you understand?" Brian stared at Kevin's face.
"I still feel uncomfortable about this," Kevin's voice trailed off.
Brian took in a deep breath. "We're doing this for Nick. Go let her in."
Brian could feel his heart racing when Dr. Johnson entered the bedroom.
"Hi Brian, Kevin tells me you're having some difficulties," Dr. Johnson said as she approached the bed with her black medical bag in her hand.
Brian nodded a slight nod. He was scared, but he didn't want Kevin to notice.
Kevin, standing off to the side of the room was scared too. He prayed that nothing bad was going to happen with Brian.
"Well, I have something that should help you, Brian," Dr. Johnson remarked as she rummaged through her bag. She pulled out a vial of light lavender colored fluid. She snapped on the latex gloves, arranging them around her fingers.
"So what exactly will this medication do for him?" Kevin asked.
"This should help his nervous system," Dr. Johnson replied as she swabbed Brian's thigh, prepping it for the injection.
Dr. Johnson noticed Brian's breathing becoming rapid. "Calm down Brian, it's going to be okay, it will only hurt for a minute then it will be over."
After Dr. Johnson injected Brian, he felt a little warm and dizzy but otherwise fine. Dr. Johnson handed the vial to Kevin. "Brian will need this injection every twelve hours, are you up to doing that?"
Kevin looked down at the vial that only had Brian's name on the label. "What Brian needs, I will make sure he gets."
"Be sure to call if there are any problems. It's too bad about Nick, I really haven't understood why he would do that to his friend. It's the people you least expect, you know?" Dr. Johnson remarked as she closed up her bag.
Kevin nodded, thinking of hateful things about the doctor.
"Oh, Nate is anxious to begin tour, do you think you will be auditioning anytime soon for Nick's replacement?" Dr. Johnson questioned.
"Replacement?" Kevin snapped.
"Kevin, you have to be reasonable, I realize the trial starts in two weeks, but face it, Nick is guilty," Dr. Johnson replied.
Kevin's eyes narrowed at Dr. Johnson. "Let the court decide that, okay?"
"Alright, alright, but it's just that Nate got a taste of being onstage and he's anxious. Remember to call me if Brian needs anything," Dr. Johnson said as she stood at the front door.
"Yep, I will," Kevin said as he jerked the door open.
*~*~*~*
Nick stood in the food line, waiting his turn for supper. He would have preferred to stay in his room, but after he was in jail for 48 hours, they stopped the "suicide watch" and placed him into the general population.
The meals were always served on styrofoam plates, finger foods only. White milk was served in paper cups. At first Nick had refused to eat, but his hunger finally made him give in. The meals always consisted of grilled peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and potato chips and an apple or a pear. Breakfast was not any better. It was toast, milk and an orange.
They never had a choice of where they sat, it was always down the rows and you sat where your place came up in line. Today was a bad place in line for Nick.
Jordan, a grossly overweight inmate sat directly across from Nick. The table went up and then back down again as he took his seat. Without saying a word, Nick shoved his tray towards Jordan. He was one of the "parents" of the population. No one ever stood in his way or refused his requests. To do so would bring severe penalities from the "family."
After lunch was finished, mail call was held. Nick was excited when they called out his last name. Any letter made life a bit more bearable for him. He would read and re-read the letters he received at least fifty times.
Nick looked at the business sized envelope. It was opened, as usual. He immediately recognized the handwriting on the front and the return address as his mother's. He hurried to his cell to read his letter in private.
Sitting down on the bed, Nick pulled the letter out and ran his hand over the front of the letter as if the touch would bring his mother out from the page. He closed his eyes and smelled the paper, hoping for some scent that would bring pleasant and secure feelings. He was disappointed by the smell of stale cigarette smoke, no doubt from the office that reads the mail before it is released to the inmates.
Reading the date in the corner, Nick discovered that this letter had been written over two weeks ago.
Dear Nick,
You have been in our thoughts and prayers constantly. You along with Brian. I pray that the attorney will find the key to expose this doctor or whoever it was that did this to Brian and to you.
I hope you are doing better each day. I wish that I could come and see you, but Kevin told me that you don't wish to have me see you in that place. I will respect your wishes.
I hope you're taking care of yourself and trying to keep your spirits up. I know it's hard to do that, but Nick so many people are waiting for this to end and they love you and are counting on you.
Nick, we love you, and are waiting for you to come back to us. Rest assured that we have tried to shield the news from Aaron and the rest of the kids as best as we could, but this has unfotunately been on the media since it began. I'm so sorry.
Hugs and kisses and love,
Mom & Dad
Nick allowed the tears to come that were tearing at him, making his throat sore and tight. He wanted this to end so badly.
The door clanged shut. It would be lights out in an hour.
*~*~*~*~
Kevin eyed Brian as he sat on the couch. It was one of those rare times that he managed to get out of the wheel chair.
"How are you feeling?" Kevin asked.
"Alright, just a little dizzy, but I'm okay," Brian lied. He felt odd, weak, but he didn't want to alarm Kevin. The headache he developed was getting to the point that he decided he should ask for some tylenol.
Kevin noticed Brian rubbing his forehead. "What's wrong?"
"I got a headache. Maybe some tylenol would help it," Brian replied.
As Kevin was starting to get up from his chair, Brian let out a cry. Kevin whipped his head towards Brian, looking at his face. Kevin was horrified to see Brian's eyes roll back and his body become ridgid. Then the convulsions began.
"SHIT! BRIAN! BRIAN!" Kevin yelled. His mind ran through, trying to think of what to do. He remembered something about proctecting the tongue when someone was having a seizure. He ran into the kitchen and grabbed a dishcloth, and quickly twisted it as he ran back to Brian.
Blood was running from the corner of Brian's mouth, indicating that he had bitten his tongue. Kevin stuck the dishcloth into Brian's mouth.
Kevin grabbed the cordless phone and punched in 9-1-1, literally screaming into the receiver to get an amblance at the house immediately.
The seizure finally ended, leaving Brian sweatting and weak. He had no strength to talk to Kevin, he just laid on the floor.
"Sir? Sir?" The 911 operator yelled into the phone.
"Huh? Oh, shit," Kevin realized he had dropped the phone.
"I need an address, sir," the operator said in a calm voice.
"9657 Palmetto Drive Southwest," Kevin replied.
"Okay, they are enroute, how is the patient?" The woman asked, trying to calm Kevin down, she could still detect the anxiousness in his voice.
"He stopped the convulsions, he's just laying here on the floor," Kevin stated.
"Is he conscious?"
"Yes, he's not talking to me though," Kevin anxiously replied.
"It's okay, thats common, don't worry, they will be there soon."
After seeming like forever, Kevin heard the ambulance sirens. "They're here, help is here Brian," Kevin remarked, hoping to put Brian at ease.
Brian just stared at Kevin, unable to communicate. He was so scared, frightened and worried that this was going to be something permanent....
*~*~*~*
Nick stood at the window waiting to buy the cigarettes for Devon. A television set was blaring in the corner, the only time he had any link to the outside world was when he was allowed to go and use the money on his account.
As usual, CNN was on the screen. He barely paid attention to what was being said about the earthquakes in Japan killing 500. As he turned to leave he heard a name that made him stop suddenly, bumping into the guy that was standing behind him in line.
Did I hear them say Brian Littrell? Nick thought as he turned to look at the screen. His thoughts were confirmed when a still picture of Brian was on the television with his name underneath it.
Nick leaned back into the window to hear the report.
"Come on man, it's my turn bitch!" The inmate started a shoving match with Nick. The shoving ensued into a fist fight. Suddenly it wound up being a free for all, fists were swinging right and left.
As Nick was being pulled off the inmate that started the fight, he managed to throw in one more punch for the hell of it, he figured they would be putting him in solitary confinement because of the fight, so he guessed he would have nothing to lose.
"There ya go, bad boy!" The guard snickered as he shoved Nick into a room that was pitch black.
With the total darkness in the room, Nick had to feel around the room for the sink, toilet and the bed. Crawling on his hands and knees, he ran into the bed.
"Shit! SHIT....SHIT...SHIT," Nick yelled out in the darkness. He realized that because of the fight he had absolutely no idea why Brian was on CNN. He put his head in his hands. "I'll never get out of here! He probably died and it's my fault." Nick sobbed.
*~*~*~*
The smell of the emergency room brought back memories to Brian. He was still unable to talk yet, still drained from the convulsions.
"Hi Brian, I'm Dr. Frank," the tall, dark skinned man stated as he proceeded to poke and prod Brian's stomach and feel his neck. "Are you able to communicate?"
Brian shook his head "no." God, at least I can still do that, Brian thought to himself.
"Okay, do you know if someone followed you in?" Dr. Frank asked.
Brian nodded. He knew that Kevin had left as they were putting him into the ambulance.
"Bring that person in, I need to get some answers about this patient!" The doctor barked at the nurse that was standing next to the cot.
Within a few minutes, Kevin was standing next to Brian, the concern was evident in his face. Brian wanted to tell Kevin to relax and not to worry, but was frustrated that he was unable to.
Dr. Frank immediately pumped questions at Kevin regarding Brian, but appeared to be especially confused when Kevin pulled three vials of medications that were prescribed for Brian by Dr. Johnson.
Taking the vials from Kevin, Dr. Frank turned them over and over, evidentially looking for the names of the drugs.
"What are these for?"
"Dr. Johnson said something about helping the central nervous system. The purple vial was the last thing she injected Brian with and she said I was supposed to give it to him every twelve hours," Kevin pointed at the bottle when he mentioned it.
Dr. Frank handed all of the vials to the nurse that was standing beside him. "I want tests done on all of these, STAT. I also want a CPK9 test run on the patient."
"Right away, doctor," the nurse replied.
"What's a CPK9?" Kevin asked, he felt that Brian would want to know too.
"It's a specific blood test, telling us the types of medications that are in his system. Based on that information plus the results of the reports on the meds, we should be able to pinpoint as to what caused Brian's seizures.
*~*~*~*~*
The door creaked open, loudly. A light shone on Nick, laying on the concrete floor. Looking up at the door, Nick blinked his eyes until they adjusted to the light.
"Time's up, Carter," the guard stated sharply to Nick.
Nick slowly stood up, suprised at how rubbery his legs felt when he stood up.
"How long?" Nick asked, his voice hoarse from not talking.
"What?" The guard asked as he closed the door after Nick passed through it.
Nick licked his dry lips, he was thirsty. "How long have I been in there?"
"You were in the hole for three days, Carter. Lucky for you Davis felt sorry cause you'd been in there for five," the guard replied.
Three days? Nick thought to himself. It thought it only seemed like a day and then decided that he must have slept the whole time he was in there. Being in total darkness, he was unable to tell if it was day or night.
Nick was relieved when the guard told him that they would be stopping to pick up clean coveralls and a towel. They stopped back at his cell on the way to the shower so Nick could grab his personal items.
Once he was in the shower, Nick stood under the hot flowing water, eyes closed, savoring every minute of it. He got used to knowing that someone was always there, watching them in the shower. At first he felt funny and humiliated about it, but now it was a part of life that he had no control over. A five minute shower was too short to worry over someone watching you, he had decided.
Nick was escorted back to his cell after he got dressed. Sittin gon the bed, his thoughts once again returned to Brian, wondering if he was okay and how he was progressing. Depression was starting to overtake him and he was growing sleepy. As he laid down, the door opened.
"Carter, you got a visitor, follow me," Joe, the trustee, stated.
Nick sat up and quickly walked to the "pat down" room so he could be searched before he found out who the visitor was. Entering the room, Nick obediently held his arms out to the sides and stood and waited.
Once the guard finished, Nick was directed to sit in bay one. He took a seat on the hard stool and waited anxiously for his visitor. He was hoping it would be Kevin again or one of the other guys for that matter. Someone that could assure him that Brian was alive and well.
Seeing the briefcase being set on the table on the other side of the thick glass, Nick knew that this wasn't going to be a social visit, he attorney had come.
They both picked up the tan communication phones simultaneously.
"How's Brian?" Nick blurted out.
"Brian is doing better," the attorney replied.
"How much better is better?" Nick persisted.
"He's talking now."
The attorney's vagueness was starting to get on Nick's nerves. "He was talking before, tell me what's going on here!" Nick demanded, slamming a fist onto the counter.
Hearing Nick slam the counter, the guard walked up to Nick.
"It's okay, just back off," Nick hissed.
"Keep that tone up and your visit will be done," the guard warned Nick.
Nick could feel the heat in his face and his heart racing, he swallowed and closed his eyes for a moment, trying to calm himself down. He then nodded and the guard walked back towards the wall next to the door.
"Let me discuss with you what I'm here for and then I'll talk about Brian, okay?" The attorney quietly spoke.
Nick nodded.
"Alright, the trial will be starting in two weeks. It is your right as a defendant to be there for jury selection, but I am concerned because of your celebrity status that it would be difficult to find an impartial jury," the attorney began.
"We don't have too much of a choice," Nick replied.
"I am dropping off dress clothes for the trial for you to wear. Your mother went to your house and brought them to me." As the attorney spoke, he thumbed through some papers.
Upon hearing what his mother had done for him, Nick fought back the tears that were filling his eyes. He felt bad to have to put her through that humiliation.
"Do you have any questions, Nick?"
Nick shook his head "no."
"Alright, now about Brian. He had a seizure four days ago."
Nick's mouth dropped open.
The attorney held his hand up to stop Nick from interrupting him. "We wanted to catch Dr. Johnson with tainted medications and we had a plan to catch her. I told Brian it was too risky but he insisted on doing anything possible to help you get out of jail. The tests aren't back yet, but we are suspecting that the medication that Dr. Johnson used caused his seizure."
"How could he be so stupid, he shouldn't have done that," Nick spat out.
"Nick he did it because he wants to help you. One of the things he told Kevin before the doctor came was that whatever happened not to worry, it was a risk he was willing to take for you."
Nick sat, staring at the attorney, feeling numb. "How is he now?"
"He's doing much better. They are having him do physical therapy and he's starting to walk short distances and he is also talking too. He's going to be just fine Nick," the attorney tried to reassure him.
Trying to keep from crying, Nick set his jaw and nodded.
The attorney sensed that Nick was upset and wanted to be alone to deal with his emotions. "Nick, I'll be seeing you next week, we will be starting the jury selection then. Take care, okay?"
Nick nodded. "Thanks."
*~*~*~*~*
Nick kept pulling at his collar and adjusting the waistband on the dress clothes he was wearing for the trial. They felt itchy, he wasn't used to having clothes this nice against his skin. Shoes even felt like they were restictive, the slippers he had worn since May had grown to be old friends now.
The door was opened to his cell, making a loud banging noise.
"Come on, Carter, show time," the guard joked.
Nick half smiled at the guard, he was always picking on him about his celebrity status and today was not the day to joke.
He walked down the hall, on the opposite side of the yellow line, his head down. He prayed that this trial would be over today, but Nick knew deep down inside that this could last for weeks, his attorney even said to be prepared for spending possibly six weeks in trial.
They stopped at a set of barred doors. The guard buzzed the door open and Nick and the guard stepped inside. The door closed behind them and Nick held his arms out, palms upward and waited for the guard to slap the cold silver handcuffs on his wrists. He then took shackels and put one on each of his ankles and ran a heavy metal chain around Nick's waist and attached it to the shackles and then upwards onto the handcuffs. Once he was satisfied that everything was properly in place, he nodded at the guard on the other side of the bars to buzz the door open.
Walking down the hall in the shackles left Nick with limited movement, his steps were small and slow. They stopped at the gates at the end of the hall.
"Carter, 29578635," the guard stated.
The man on the other side of the bars wrote the information on the clipboard and passed it throught the bars. Nick's guard signed off responsiblity of him and the new guard took the clipboard back and buzzed the door open.
He guided Nick out through the door. The bright sunlight hurt his eyes, he sqinted as he looked at the van sitting there waiting to transport him to the courthouse.
"In ya go, Carter," the guard commanded as he heaved the side door open.
Nick obediently took his seat and waited as the guard ran the chains through the bolts on the floor and seat.
As they headed down the highway, Nick felt his stomach knot up. He knew there would more than likely be media there, taking pictures. He dreaded the thought. He dreaded more thinking that his family could possibly be sitting in the courtroom. He told Kevin and his attorney that he didn't want his family there. He hoped that they would abide by his wishes.
Nick's worst fears were realized as the van pulled up to the inmate entrance of the courthouse. There were television cameras, reporters, photographers anyone you could possibly imagine was there. Nick wished there were some way he could duck into the courthouse without being seen. He knew that was wishing for too much.
The guard slid open the side door to the van and set about his tast of unhooking the chains from the floor and the seat. Nick reluctantly got out of the van, his head hanging down, not making eyecontact with anyone.
"NICK! ARE YOU GUILTY OR INNOCENT?" "HOW'S BRIAN?" "HAS ANY BSB COME TO SEE YOU IN JAIL?"
The questions were thrown out to Nick from the moment he left the security of the van. Nick kept his head down and walked as fast as he dared with the shackels on.
He felt relieved when the entered the courthouse. The guard held open the solid wooden doors leading to the courtroom where the trial was to be in. It was extremely quiet in the courtroom, every seat was taken. The judge was not in yet or the jury. Nick thought the chains sounded louder than normal and winced at the noise they were making.
Then he saw them. His heart sank and the tears filled his eyes. Nick quickly diverted his gaze from the seat that his parents occupied. He bit his bottom lip, hoping to keep his emotions in check. Once they reached the table where he was to sit at, the guard removed the shackels and the cuffs and chains.
Nick instinctively rubbed his wrists. He sat with his hands folded on the table because he knew that he had to keep his hands in view at all times. He tried to recall if he saw anyone besides his parents, but couldn't think of anyone. He didn't see any of the guys. Nick figured they were busy caring for Brian at his home.
The jury entered the room, it was seven women and five men. They quietly took their seats in the jury box. The people that were selected ranged in ages from twenty-three to fifty-six and various employment backgrounds.
A man dressed in a police uniform entered the room.
"Court is now in session, please rise for the Honerable Judge Marks," he bellowed.
Nick quietly stood up with his attorney. The judge wearing the traditional black robe entered the room. He appeared to be a tall, slight built man in his middle fifties.
"Please be seated," the judge stated.
"Matter is the State of Florida versus Carter, number 29578635. Is the defendant present?" The judge peered over his glasses at Nick and his attorney.
Nick knew that this was one of the times he was requested to speak.
"Yes sir," his voice was low and quiet.
"You have to speak up, the recorder can't pick you up if you mumble," the judge reprimanded Nick.
Nick took a deep breath in. "Yes sir."
"You have been accused in the crimes of muder in the death of a home care provider Mark David Livingston and attempted murder of a Brian Thomas Littrell. How do you plead?" The judge again peered over his glasses at Nick.
"Not guilty," Nick stated with a strong voice.
*~*~*~*~*
The trial was dragging out for several days, with the prosecution presenting their case first. The evidence that they showed the jury didn't look favorable for Nick. It was if they were working with Dr. Johnson, only believing what she was telling them, not looking beyond that.
The final two witnesses to the defense were going to be called after their lunch break. Nick had to sit at the table and wait for the jury to be dismissed and leave the courtroom before he could be handcuffed and removed.
Nick was led to the holding cell, which was a small, white room with a table and a chair. Rick, the guard stayed in the room with Nick until the court was ready to resume.
"This isn't something I'm supposed to be doing, but my daughter, Angie is crazy about you, could I get your autograph Nick?" Rick asked as he shoved a piece of paper and a pen towards Nick.
Nick looked at the paper and pen on the wooden table and chuckled at the irony of the stituation. "Why would anyone possibly want an autograph of mine when I sit in this hole?"
"Hey, don't sell yourself short, kid, those fans out there believe in you and they know that you're innocent. Hell, I think you're innocent too. I mean the evidence they are providing is pretty damn overwhelming, but like my Angie keeps telling me, Brian is Nick's best friend and best friends don't do things like that."
Nick picked up the pen and signed, "To Angie, keep the faith - Nick"
Rick took the paper and neatly folded it in fourths and tucked it into his front shirt pocket. "Thanks Nick, you just made a little girl's day."
Nick smiled faintly. It had been pretty hard for him to smile about much of anything lately.
Rick answered the door when there was a small knock on it. It was Nick's lunch tray. It was the only thing about going to court that Nick liked.
Today's tray had a hamburger and french fries and a soda. Every bite tasted like heaven to Nick. After having grilled peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for months on end, a tuna fish sandwich would be enjoyable and Nick hated tuna fish.
A knock on the door signaled that lunch was over. Nick shoved the rest of the fries in his mouth and guzzled the remainder of the soda.
"Come on, Nick, it's time to go back," Rick said as he placed the handcuffs back on Nick's wrists.
Part 5
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