Nick sat on his bed. He hadn’t changed in a few days now, he was beginning to smell. He hadn’t showered in even more, his hair was greasy and matted to his head, his face pale from no sun, his eyes sunken in and his heart was broken. He’d been calling Leighanne for days, trying to get the scoop on what was going on with Tatum. She’d been checked into a medical health ward in the hospital after she’d recovered, but that was a few weeks ago. No one had told him anything else. Leighanne would sigh and couldn’t tell him much. Everyone looked down upon him now.

It was as though when Tate tried to kill herself, everything came out. Nick found himself in a drunken stupor, totally hysterical and beyond comfort’s arms, in the rain, outside the Orlando hospital she’d been taken to. It was then that he’d confessed the whole thing to Brian and Leighanne. Leighanne wasn’t surprised, but Brian was less than supportive. No one had really understood his side of the story except AJ, and even he was mildly supportive.

Nick picked up the phone and dialed the familiar numbers of Leigh and Brian’s phone. “Hello?” Came Leighanne’s voice.

“Leigh, it’s Nick.” Nick said somberly.

A silence followed. “Do you need something, Nick?” Asked Leighanne.

“Boy, do I.” Said Nick. “I’d like Tatum...” The sadness, anguish, pain, hurt, devastation and so many other feelings were evident in his tone.

Leighanne softened. She tried not to let tears escape. Even though Nick had fucked up- badly, she couldn’t keep this from him. Not something so big, something that was going to change his life forever. “Nick... I don’t think you’re ever going to get Tatum.”

“Why?” Asked Nick sharply, it sounded like something was wrong. He could sense it. Smell it. It scared him.

“Because she left, about half an hour, for the Tampa airport...”

Before she could get anything out, Nick snapped, “What flight? When’s it leaving? Where?” He fired the questions at her as fast as he could think of them.

“Nick... just let her-” Leighanne started.

“NOOOOOOOO!” His soul-wrenching scream sounded. “TELL ME LEIGHANNE!” Nick begged, “Tell me, you have to, God I love her so much... Leigh, you’ve gotta tell me, I need to talk to her, at least to say good bye.” Nick sobbed in anguish and pain.

“The plane leaves for Madrid, Spain. Number 8657, in an hour. Maybe you can catch it. Don’t breathe a word of this to her, and don’t you dare hurt her Nick.” With that, Leighanne hung up the phone.

Nick didn’t waste time pulling on a jersey and a pair of jeans while running out the door. Nick opened the door and slammed, and his tires squealed nastily as he pulled out of the driveway. It took almost 45 minutes to get to the airport, and he was really cutting it close. Nick’s heart beat fast.

As Nick sped down the Tampa freeway, he heard the distinct noise of sirens approaching. A cop car signaled him to pull over. Nick obliged, and pounded his head on the steering wheel in frustration. Tears threatened to escape his eyes as he saw the policeman get out of the car and swagger over to his side of the Durango. He was a classic cop. Old and fat. Nick wasn’t going to get away with this one, he was going almost 20 miles over the speed limit, considered criminal speeding in Tampa.

“Hello, son.” The officer said, a toothpick hanging lazily out of the corner of his mouth. The gross mole with hair growing out of it on the side of the man’s face made Nick want to puke.

“Good afternoon officer.” Nick tried to reply calmly. Inside his mind was racing. What could he do? How could he find Tatum if she was in Spain? She’d always loved the beaches in Spain, always loved the scenery, it wasn’t a shocker she’d go there to recuperate and reflect on her life.

“Do you know how fast you were going, Sonny? Lemme see your driver’s license.” He said, his southern accent clearly peeking through.

Nick begrudgingly pulled his wallet out of his pants, thankful he’d even brought it, and showed his ID to the policeman. “Well I’ll be damned. Nick Carter. Backstreet Boy! My little grandbaby loves you!” Nick winced at his loud, hillbilly accent. He must have moved down to Florida from Louisiana or something. “I’ll tell you what boy, you sign this here piece of paper, and I’ll give you a break, but don’t let me catch you again.”

Nick sighed happily at his stroke of good fortune. Quickly he scribbled his name across the top of a ticket sheet, and the officer gave him his wallet back and with a wave, Nick was back on the freeway. God, he was so lucky. He sped along, hoping against hope he’d get there in time.

~~~

Thank you for flying America West International. Please fasten your seat belts. We will be beginning the takeoff procedure within the next five minutes. Tatum settled back in her seat, and pulled out her book. This was what she needed. To go to Madrid, bask in the beautiful culture, put her bilingual talents to good use. Then again, she saddened, Nick used to love it when she’d whisper Spanish whatnots in his ears.

Tears laced her lashes together and blurred her vision. Then, she was startled out of her sadness by commotion near the front of the bus. She heard some yelling. Sir, you can’t go back there. You need to exit the bus. One of the flight attendants said. No, please, I need to go, I need to go see my girlfriend! Tatum heard. He sounded almost like... oh no.

Then, she saw Nick, frantically making his way through the aisle, towards her. Flight attendants looked helplessly around and shrugged their shoulders. “Nick, what are you doing here?” Tatum hissed through her teeth, trying to ignore the strange looks people were giving them as the tall blond crouched beside her row, stumbling over an old man to get to Tatum, who sat in the middle. (GOD, don’t you HATE having to sit in the middle? well, unless it’s two hot guys lol.)

“Tate, we need to talk, you can’t leave. There’s no way. Please don’t, God... Tatum, just talk to me...” Nick spewed out hysterically.

“Nick! God, get a grip!” She tried to calm him. By now all the passengers on the plane were craning their necks to see what the hell was going on. “Come on.” She said stiffly as it looked like Nick wasn’t going to calm down. She got out and led Nick to the hall of the plane.

“What was with that?” She asked.

“Tate, God, you can’t leave. Please don’t leave. Let me explain. God... I never meant to hurt you. I never meant to do that. God I was so drunk.” Nick said, passed hysterics, passed sobbing, wretching.

Tatum had only learned part of what was going on. Leighanne and Brian hadn’t really informed her about Nick’s secret drinking all along. “...god Nick... why?” She asked.

“Excuse me miss?” The flight attendant asked. “We’re three minutes from takeoff. We can’t delay anymore. Either you need to step completely off the plane or get back in your seat and the gentleman needs to leave.”

Tatum weighed her options. Madrid. Nick. Nick. Madrid. How could she choose? She could always take another flight to Madrid. But then again, she could always talk to Nick on the phone. No... this was more important. She needed to get this over with once and for all. Either they’d be together, or they wouldn’t. After that she could spend all the time in Madrid she wanted.

“All right. I’ll step off, thank you.” Nick was surprised to hear her say this. His face showed a pained smile and they stepped into the deserted gate.

“Talk.” She requested.

“God Tatum, I didn’t mean to be like that at the party... God... I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to do that to you. I just... I never stopped drinking. I snuck around, drank more and more, until finally I was back where I was. I needed more help then I could have alone. God Tate, I’m soooo sorry.” Nick sobbed.

“No more I’m sorry bull shit Nick! God! I just can’t take it... I mean, what happened is what happened, you can’t change it. It hurts me to hear you say you’re sorry.” She exploded.

“Then what can I say?” Asked Nick. “What can I do? Don’t make me break into a corny fucking song.”

“Say you’ll get some fucking help Nick!” She cried out, tears pouring down her lashes. “Tell me you’ll enroll yourself somewhere, you’ll really... really quit.”

“Tatum... God... I’ll do it. I promise. I’ll do it, because I hate this bull shit. I can’t stand it anymore. Ever since you almost left... it’s killed me. A part of my soul died... I need help. I admit it. Now I’ll get some help... and you’ll come back into my life?” He asked the last part uncertainly.

“With open arms.” She said quietly.

“With open arms?” Nick asked, his blue eyes shining with wonder, curiosity, hope, desire, love, need, complete and utter need. He needed her. He couldn’t live without her. They were one of the same soul.

“With open arms.” She confirmed.

And that was all he needed to hear. His heart overflowed with powerful emotions for her, and eh couldn’t speak. Choking on his tears he pulled her into a bruising kiss. “I love you Tatum.”

“I love you too, Nicky.” She smiled.

AN: The end to definitely one of my favorite stories! Thanks for reading, please know, that if you or anyone is having alcoholism problems, they clearly need more help than they can give themselves. It’s a hard road to walk, and I am by no means being corny by saying, admit to yourself you have a problem, and get help. This goes for all mind-altering substances because BSC loves it’s readers! :)