Chapter 10 – Hand In Hand

It was two days before Brian was ready to get out of bed and see his friends. He had held it together just as he promised. He had not had another anxiety attack, and had focused all of his efforts on healing. Howie, who had progressed to using a cane to hobble around, had come to see him twice more. A.J. had decided to rest more before he attempted another venture out of his bed, claiming that Howie pounding around with his cane was keeping him awake all of the time.

When Dr. Westin came into the room to inform them of Brian’s decision, he found Howie speaking with the band’s manager.

“I’m feeling much better,” Howie was arguing. “I may need a few more days, but I can handle a short press conference. They are our fans, and they’re worried about us! They’ve been with us through this much, they deserve to know what’s going on.”

“Hold on there, Howie,” Dr. Westin said sternly. Howie looked up guiltily.

“You need to consult me before you do anything like that.”

“Sorry,” he mumbled. Westin softened. To go through this kind of ordeal and still be thinking of everyone but himself took a big heart.

“Well, if its any consolation, I was going to have you discharged tomorrow afternoon.”

“Really?” Howie asked, surprised.

“You’ve been doing very well, and there’s no real reason to keep you here, as long as you get plenty of rest.”

“Where would I go? I can’t leave San Antonio while everyone else is still here.”

“I suppose we could make some arrangements,” he said slowly. “If you feel that strongly about it.”

“There’s not exactly anywhere around here that I could go without… crowd control.”

“You do have a point. I’ll see what I can do.”

“When do you think I will be ready to hold a press conference? I’ll wait until you say it’s ok.”

“Well,” he said thoughtfully, “Let me tell you this. Brian has decided that it is time for him to go and see Nick and Kevin. That’s why I came down here. He, of course, doesn’t want to go alone, and I don’t want him to either. He has been doing very well these past two days, and I think it will be ok, but he needs the support of his friends to do this. If you are willing, I was going to let the two of you go with him up to ICU. After that, we will see how you feel.”

Howie was quiet for a moment at the news. It was A.J. that spoke up.

“Is their any change yet in either of them?”

Westin sighed. “I’m going to level with you. I am encouraged by Kevin’s condition; I think the odds are starting to look a little in his favor. But Nick is still a question mark. I need you to be prepared if he takes a turn for the worse. If he doesn’t wake up soon, he may never wake up. I want you to be prepared for that.”

“Have you told this to Brian?” Howie asked, a feeling of dread washing over him.

“No. And I’m not going to right now. It would do more harm than good.”

Howie glanced over at A.J., who was staring at his hands. He had been complaining about his ribs all morning. He hadn’t been able to get comfortable. Howie wasn’t sure if he wanted to come to see Kevin and Nick now or not.

“Are you up to it, Bone?”

“Yeah,” A.J. said, not looking up from his hands. He had begun to fiddle with his cast. He was nervous and worried. He had been trying hard not to think about Nick or Kevin, and to have it thrust upon him that Nick might very well die was difficult to deal with to say the least.

“How are your ribs?” Westin asked him.

“Fine,” A.J. lied. They had been bothering him off and on for the past few days, especially after his trip up to see Brian, but today in particular his chest had been aching non-stop.

“All right then. I will tell them to expect you up in ICU. They will try and clear the place out a bit. I’ll send for Brian, and then you can go up together.”

“How is he going to handle the wheelchair?”

“He probably won’t for too long. It will probably irritate his back a bit, and he will get tired a lot quicker than he thinks.”

“Then lets do this.”

* * *

On the way to ICU, A.J. found himself repeating some of their older lyrics over and over quietly to himself, almost subconsciously.

“Just roll with it… everything will be fine… just roll with it… its gonna be all right… just roll with it…”

Howie noticed, but said nothing. A.J. was looking ahead, waiting for them to bring Brian out. Howie had elected to walk up with his cane. A.J. began to fiddle with his IV tube, but a look from the nurse made him scowl and quit. Howie leaned over and spoke to him quietly so that the nurse wouldn’t hear.

“How’s your chest?”

“I’d like to chop off everything below my neck,” he replied. He thought for a moment. “I take that back,” he said. “The neck has to go too.”

Brian met them by the elevator. An oxygen tank accompanied him, for he still wore the mask around his nose, and an IV stand with two pouches hanging from it. He still looked like a nightmare, the cuts and bruises on his head and arms standing out strongly on his pale skin.

“B-Rok, you are one sexy man in that hospital gown,” A.J. said with a grin. He wanted to see Brian smile again. What he got wasn’t quite what he wanted, but it was a start.

“Likewise,” he said with the faintest trace of a smile on his lips. Howie tried not to show his worry. In any other situation, Brian would have had a field day with that kind of comment. He never would have let A.J. get away with that.

Three security guards were escorting them to their destination, but had been informed by Dr. Westin that they were to wait at the door, and let them be alone inside.

“Are we ready for this?” Howie asked the other two. They both nodded, but Brian looked even more pale than usual. The elevator doors opened and Howie hobbled inside followed by his wheelchair bound companions. A.J. grimaced as he was rolled in.

“Watch the knee,” he muttered.

The elevator ride was silent until the doors opened on the floor that contained the ICU. A.J. exhaled slowly a breath he didn’t even know he’d been holding.

“We’re in this together,” Howie said aloud. “Let’s not forget that. We’re all in this together.”

He carefully exited the elevator, and was guided over to a room by one of the nurses who greeted them.

Brian was glad he was sitting, because he would have fallen otherwise. He was completely unprepared for what he saw. The nurse had brought them into Kevin’s room. It was small, the bed taking up most of the room. His cousin lay perfectly still, his face as white as the sheet he was laying on. His hands rested by his sides, and aside from the machines and tubes that seemed to be everywhere, he appeared to be sleeping peacefully. His head was bandaged, concealing all evidence of his dark brown hair. A cast covered his entire left leg, and Brian remembered the rod that was in his femur. An oxygen mask covered his face and nose, the overall effect eerily reminiscent of Brian’s scenes from the video they had shot for “Show Me The Meaning Of Being Lonely.” He shuddered. Howie approached him and placed his hand on Brian’s shoulder.

“You all right?” Howie murmured softly.

Brian drew in a shaky breath and nodded, but it couldn’t be farther from the truth. Surely this was a dream. Kevin was the strong one; Kevin was the one who held them all together. He looked out for them, got them to where they needed to be, kept them in line. He was the one they looked up to. He was Brian’s own blood. This was wrong.

Brian reached out and took one of Kevin’s hands, disturbed at how cool it felt. He recalled an image of Kevin throwing his heart out during their countless performances. He never failed to put his all into everything, and Brian was sure it was the only reason he was still breathing right now. Try as he may, he couldn’t stop the memories from flooding him.

He remembered his cousin’s shy smile and his determination to hold them together when things got bad. He really was like a father to all of them. And here he was, lying in a hospital bed, the machines around him feeding him whatever life he still clung to. He noticed the lack of scrapes and burns along his arms, and remembered that Kevin had never made it outside of the bus.

“Kevin?” he whispered, his eyes watering. “Kev, it’s me, Brian. Can you hear me?”

“Keep talking, man.” A.J. encouraged him. “I’ve read they can hear you when they’re in a coma.”

A.J. too looked shocked at what he was seeing, and his eyes were wet. The mischievous sparkle they had possessed earlier was nowhere to be found.

Brian continued to speak, a tremor in his voice. “Kevin, I’m here. So are Howie and A.J. And we’re gonna be here when you wake up, too. So you’d better wake up soon, because…” he had to stop and get himself back under control. He had to keep control, for him, for Kevin, and for A.J. and Howie.

A.J. was forced to look away. He brought a hand up to his face, and rested his fingertips on the bridge of his nose, squeezing away tears. After a while, Brian was able to continue.

“Because this really sucks,” he said finally. “I’m not sure how much longer we can do this without you. We need you back with us Kevin.” He motioned towards Howie and A.J. “They need their big brother, and I need my cousin. Please get back here, please,” he begged. He brought his free hand up to his face, and hid his eyes.

Tell me why I can’t be there where you are

There’s something missing in my heart.

There’s nowhere to run, there’s nowhere to go

Surrender my heart body and soul…

The words echoed inside Howie’s head where he couldn’t escape them. He’d always thought of his sister Caroline when he sang them, but now they were taking on an even deeper meaning.

The three of them stayed with Kevin for a little while longer, sharing in their grief and giving each other strength. A.J. firmly believed that none of them could have been there right then without the others. After a while, A.J.’s chest became too much for him to take on top of everything else. He leaned over and whispered to Howie, who made his way slowly over to a nurse. She and two others came to help them out. Brian was reluctant to leave.

“Promise me that if he shows any signs of waking up, someone will come get me,” he said wearily.

“Of course,” one of the nurses assured him. “Dr. Westin says that after you’ve rested awhile you can come up to see Nick if you like.”

Brian didn’t put up a fight. Howie offered to come back to his room and stay with him for a while.

“They are going to give A.J. some pain medicine that will put him out, so I would be more than happy to stay with you,” he told him.

“I think I want to be alone,” Brian replied, staring off at nothing.

“No you don’t,” Howie insisted. “You may not want to admit it, but it’s the truth. I said we were in this together, and I meant it. I’m coming with you.”

Brian was too exhausted to argue. Inwardly, he was grateful. Howie followed them into Brian’s room, and pulled up a chair next to his bed, where he sat until Brian fell asleep. Before he drifted off, he directed his gaze to Howie.

“Thank you,” he said sleepily.

“No problem.”

“You know what?” Brian asked suddenly.

“What?”

“I want a basketball. That’s all I want to do. Play basketball. Isn’t that crazy?”

Howie had to laugh. “Yeah, life’s a bitch like that isn’t it?”

Chapter 11

Index