Part One

The ambulance raced down the highway on a dreary, rainy fall evening in Tampa, Florida.

"Poor boy, he's so young," the female paramedic sighed as she threaded an IV line into the patient's right arm.

Brian struggled to keep awake, trying to figure out what was happening. The last thing he remembered was being at a promotional party. He told Nick he was tired and was headed home. After saying goodbye, he got into his car and headed down the road.

Brian tried to ask the girl was had happened, the words were formed in his brain, but nothing was coming from his mouth. He was starting to get scared, something wasn't right and he was unsure of what was happening to him.

He felt a little relieved as the ambulance arrived at the hospital. Brian figured he would get some answers as to what was going on. He listened to the paramedics as they prepared to move him from the stretcher onto the cot in the emergency room.

"We were called to the scene and found the patient in his vehicle, off the road, the car had hit a tree. He was unconscious," the paramedic stopped briefly as they counted to three before transferring Brian onto the cot. "He is unable to communicate with us at the present time."

Brian's mind was racing. He couldn't recall hitting a tree or driving off the road for that matter. The paramedic started calling off Brian's vital signs, so Brian was unable to determine still what was going on.

As he laid on the cot, he watched the people around him, touching him, poking him with needles, feeling everything, but unable to move or vocalize the pain he was feeling. A doctor finally approached him and leaned over so that Brian could see her face.

"Hi, I'm Doctor Johnson, I hear you ran your car into a tree," as the female doctor spoke, she was pressing in different areas on Brian's stomach. Brian desperately wanted to cry out and tell her she was hurting him, but he couldn't so she seemed to think everything was okay. "Does it hurt when I press here?"

Brian wanted to say yes, the words were there, but they wouldn't come out, it was like they were stuck in his mouth.

The doctor mentioned some type of medication and as soon as Brian saw the nurse inject it into his IV, everyting went black.

*~*~*~*

Kevin's headlights shone onto a vehilce that was off the road, smashed up against some trees. He took his foot off the gas pedal and stopped his jeep.

Slamming it into park, Kevin's heart sank. It appeared to be Brian's Jeep. He couldn't get out of his car fast enough. Afraid of what he would find inside the vehicle, Kevin swallowed hard. He was semi-relieved when he found that the jeep was empty.

Upon opening the driver's door, Kevin immediately panicked when he spotted a large amount of blood on the front seat. Thoughts ran through his mind, trying to think of where Brian was. He prayed that he was found and taken to a hospital.

As Kevin turned to walk back towards his car, headlights flashed across the road. The car stopped and Nick's voice called out to Kevin in the darkness.

"Kev? Is that Brian's car?"

"Yeah, he's not in there though, he must---" Kevin stopped in mid sentence as his pager went off. Looking down at the message, he didn't recognize the number. "I got a page, let me call this number, it might be Brian."

Kevin got into his car and dialed the number. Sure enough, it was Tampa Bay Hospital calling to inform Kevin that Brian was admitted as a patient. When Kevin tried to get more information from the person that answered his call, she reluctantly stated that was all she could tell him and the he would have to come to the hospital for more information.

"Brian's at Tampa Bay. I'll meet you there," Kevin said as he started his car up.

*~*~*~*

Brian woke up again, but this time he found himself in a hospital room, laying in a bed. He wanted to turn his head and look around the room, but his body refused to obey the commands. He could hear machines beeping and assumed that they were for his heart.

A young nurse approached Brian's bed.

"Hi Brian, I see you're awake again."

She took a washcloth and wiped it across Brian's chin. "There, that's better, isn't it?" She asked cheerfully.

Brian tried to understand what was going on. He wondered why she did that. Then a sick reality entered his mind. He wondered if he was drooling. He tried to will his body to swallow, but it wasn't happening!

He wanted to turn his head when he heard a rushing of footsteps entering the room. The owners of the footsteps finally came into Brian's view and he wanted to call out Kevin and Nick's names. As he looked into their faces, he could tell that something was seriously wrong.

Nick's mouth dropped open, tears immediately rolled down his cheeks. Kevin just covered his mouth with his hand, obviously choking back sobs.

Before Brian would try to will his body into doing something, anything to let them know he was there, a nurse injected something into his IV and everything went black.

Dr. Johnson entered the room to talk with Kevin and Nick about Brian's condition.

"Hi, I'm Dr. Johnson," she held her hand out for Kevin to shake it. Nick shook her hand as well.

"What's going on with Brian?" Kevin asked quickly.

"It appears that Brian suffered a severe trauma to the brain. A CT shows a significant amount of blood on the brain," Dr. Johnson started to explain.

Nick stared at Brian laying in his bed. "But he will be okay, right?"

Dr. Johnson sighed. "Unfortunately, it doesn't look good. This type of injury leaves the patient with brain damage. The part of the brain that was involved controls Brian's motor skills, speech and gag reflexes. This injury is, unfortuantely, permanent.

"NO!" Nick shouted, throwing himself across Brian's body. "You're wrong! Brian will be okay!" Nick broke down into heartbreaking sobs. Kevin quietly approached Nick, placing a hand on his shoulder, not saying anything, letting the tears stream down his own cheeks.

*~*~*~*

The weeks that followed were filled with emptiness for Brian. He was trapped inside of a body that would not cooperate or communicate with anyone or anything.

On this particular morning, Brian woke up to find his parents and his bandmates standing in the room. His mother looked so tired, so pale. Brian could see that his father was upset, his jaw was clenched. Brian didn't look much better himself.

A woman that Brian had gotten to know while he was in the hospital, named Marianne, came into the room. She was the hospital social worker. She was accompanied by Dr. Johnson.

"Mr. and Mrs. Littrell, this is Marianne Dennis, the social worker. As you know we are planning on discharging Brian today. We need to go over the options with you," Dr. Johnson stated.

Brian was getting excited at the prospect of being released and going home. He wanted to shout for joy. The only noise that came from his mouth was a shallow gurgling sound.

Marianne spoke, "As Dr. Johnson mentioned, we will be discharging Brian today. Because of his medical condition, and the long range outlook, I would think it would be in your best interest in having him admitted to a nursing home facility where he would receive 24 hours round the clock care." She held the clipboard out containing the papers to transfer Brian to a nursing home.

Brian wanted to scream out. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. His eyes looked at Nick, poor Nick just stood there, lost, pale, eyes red rimmed.

Brian's father swallowed before speaking. In a quiet voice, thick with emotion, he spoke out, "I want to take my son home."

"I would advise against that, Mr. Littrell. Brian is going to have to have a home nurse on duty at your house since he needs medications continously, he needs to be turned every four hours, this could run into quite an amount of money."

"Money doesn't matter, what matters is our son," Brian's mother defended.

"Fine, I will start the paperwork."

A comment out of left field was thrown which made Brian's heart sink.

"I know you guys have been looking into a replacement for Brian in your band. I have a brother that is quite talented and would fill Brian's spot beautifully. Here's his card, you should look into him," Dr. Johnson said as she handed a business card to Kevin.

Brian wanted to yell, scream or throw something. All he could do was watch Kevin accept the business card from Dr. Johnson and look at it.

*~*~*~*

Karen Johnson kicked off her shoes and sunk into her favorite chair, reaching for the remote control and her whiskey sour. Her brother Nathan entered the livingroom.

"Hey sis, how was your day today?"

"Nate, it's coming together, just like I promised you. I discharged Brian Littrell today and I talked to the guys about replacing him with you. This is gonna work, I know it will. You deserve all the recognition that Brian ever had and more because you're so much more talented than he is," Karen barely could contain her excitement at how the plan was unfolding.

"How did you ever pull this off? I mean, how did you even get Brian to the hospital to begin with?" As Nate asked, he took a chair facing his sister.

"Well, I didn't want to tell you because of implications, but.....I guess it would be okay now," Karen smiled and leaned forward. "There was this promotional party that my friend - you know, Ginny - well she owns a catering business, and she got hired for this promotional party. So she owed me a favor and I told her that I needed a special drink to be served only to Brian Littrell. Since I had a minor in chemistry, I knew exactly what to put in it that would make him sleepy and want to leave the party before anyone else. I made sure I worked down in the ER that night, so I would be there when Brian arrived. I ordered all the tests and I even took a CT from a patient that had brain damage and put it in Brian's folder," Karen gushed, obviously please with her plan.

"But I still don't understand how you got them to believe he did have brain damage," Nate replied.

Karen took a sip of her drink, slowly savoring it. "That was a piece of cake. I concocted a med cocktail that depresses the central nervous system and ordered to be injected every two hours around the clock. This med puts Brian into a vegetative state. He's fully aware of all that's happening around him, but he can't control any part of his body to respond. He feels the stimuli like a needle poking him, but he can't react. Isn't that wonderful?"

"But you discharged him from the hospital today, he's gonna be coming around."

"Oh, well, dear brother, you underestimate me. Brian Littrell is enroute to a nursing home facility as we speak. I have placed strict orders for the injections to be continued as was in the hospital, so he won't be coming out of the vegitative as long as the injections are provided," Karen smiled sweetly at her brother.

Before Nathan could reply, the telephone rang.

"Hello?"

"Hi, could I speak with Nathan Roth?" the voice on the phone asked.

"Speaking."

"Hi, this is Chad Larkey, senior manager for Schiro Management Associations. Your name was submitted to our office as a possible replacement for Brian Littrell of the Backstreet Boys. We are planning an informal audition on Tuesday the 18th, which is a week from tomorrow. Would you be interested in auditioning?"

Nate about dropped the phone when he heard the word audition. He couldn't believe what he was hearing, his sister did pull it off for him.

"Um, yeah, next Tuesday? Sure! What time!" Nate tried to sound calm as he spoke but he knew his 19 year old voice was betraying him.

"My secretary will be sending you the information regarding time and place, just hold Tuesday the 18th open on your schedule, okay?"

"Yeah, sure thing, thank you!"

Nate hung up the phone and high fived his sister's hand. This was possibly the happiest day of his life.

*~*~*~*~

Nick had kept an ever persistant vigil at his best friend's bedside. Brian had a private room in the nursing facility, so Nick stayed until the early hours of the morning some days.

Looking at Brian's face, Nick searched it hoping to find a spark of Brian still left in there. Although his eyes were open, they appeared to be almost vacant, lifeless.

Everyday Nick prayed that Brian would return to them. Everyday Nick slowly started to realize that Brian was lost, possibly forever.

Pulling his chair closer to the bed, Nick started to talk to Brian, just like he had been in the past few days.

"Brian, I can't believe that next week they are talking about auditions to replace you. I have tried to tell them that you will be back, but no one is listening to me. I have faith in you, buddy, I know you're in there, just trapped and can't get out, I know you're there," Nick repeated the last phrase over and over, rubbing his fingers across his eyes, trying to stop the flow of tears.

Nick stopped his conversation when a nurse entered the room with a syringe.

"Time for your 2:30 meds, Brian," the young nurse sang out as she entered the room. She stepped around Nick's feet and smiled sweetly at him. "Hi, I'm Bonnie."

Nick nodded slighty, and stared, he wasn't feeling in a social mood at the moment. He watched the red headed nurse swab a spot on Brian's IV line. "What exactly is that stuff you guys keep giving Brian every two hours?"

"It was ordered by Brian's hospital doc. It's some type of sedative."

"Sedative? Why would he need a sedative? My god, he's in a coma for christsake," Nick snapped back at her angrily.

"Hey now, don't snap at me, I'm just following the doctor's orders," Bonnie shot back as she finished Brian's injection.

"I'm sorry, I'm just a little frustrated at the fact that Brian isn't geting any better," Nick sighed.

Bonnie patted Nick on the arm as she was leaving. "It's totally understandable, hun."

Brian could only lay in his bed and listen to Nick's conversation with the nurse. He was getting excited to think that Nick was hitting onto something that may be causing his unresponsive behavior only to be let down again with the nurse dismissing it.

Trying to fight the sleep the medication was causing, Brian tried desperately to let Nick know that he was there. He wanted to yell, cough, something, anything. The darkness started to take over him again. Everything went black.

*~*~*~*~*

"Hey, Brian, look who came with me to see you---" Nick's voice trailed off when he entered the room and found Brian in a wheelchair, slumped over. Nick dropped the book he was carrying and rushed over to the chair.

"Oh my god!" Nick cried out as he placed his hand on Brian's shoulder and gently pushed his body back into an upright position. Looking at Howie, his eyes narrowed. "This isn't right, Brian isn't supposed to be this way."

With a quick sweeping motion, Nick reached out and slapped the nurse call button on the wall. Nick could feel his blood pressure starting to rise from the anger in his body. It took a nurse fifteen minutes to answer Brian's call light.

Finally, an older nurse entered the room and nervously laughed. "Oh, I wondered how he could possibly hit the call button."

Nick stared at the nurse. "It took you fifteen goddamn minutes to find out why?"

The nurse acted offended by Nick's abusive language. "I think you need to calm down and not speak to me in that manner."

"I think you need to get a reality check," Nick snapped back.

Howie placed a hand on Nick's shoulder hoping to calm him down. Nick pulled his shoulder away from Howie.

"Nick, calm down," Howie asked.

"No, this has gone on way too long. Look at him, man. I want him discharged to me, NOW!" Nick yelled.

"Sir, do you have the power of attorney over this patient?" The nurse remarked with a tone of sarcasm in her voice.

Nick glared at her. "I don't care, I'm taking him."

Nick started to unlock the wheels on the chair but was stopped by both Howie and the nurse.

"Nick calm down. Let's call Brian's folks, let's talk this out, okay?" Howie tried to reason with Nick.

The nurse left the room to telephone Brian's parents.

As Nick sat down on Brian's bed, he let out a big sigh. He looked at his best friend sitting in the wheel chair, his face blank, no emotion. While they were waiting for the nurse to return after contacting Brian's parents, another nurse entered the room with a syringe.

Nick desperately wanted to refuse the drugs for Brian but he knew he had no say over what was happening to his friend. All he could do was watch the nurse give Brian his medication and then watch Brian drift back off into a drug induced slumber.

As the nurse was finishing up with Brian's meds, the other nurse reappeared with papers in her hand.

"I have received faxed permission for Brian's release of care to you by his parents. You will need to sign the discharge paperwork, but not until you have been fully instructed regarding the care for this patient," the nurse stated sharply. It was obvious that she didn't care for Nick, but it was also obvious that Nick didn't care for her.

"I don't see the point of being instructed on patient care, this is my friend, I know him like the back of my hand," Nick replied.

The nurse sighed. "Oh, really? Do you know how to empty a catheter bag?"

Nick's head whipped around in her direction. "Huh?"

"I figured as much. Do you even realize that Mr. Littrell needs round the clock care? He was scheduled for a placement of a feeding tube in three days. Do you know what to do with a feeding tube?" The nurse stared sharply at Nick.

"How the hell should I know?" Nick snapped back.

"My point exactly. This is why you need orientation on this patient's care. Once you have satisfactorily learned, then and only then will the patient be discharged into your care."

Nick could tell he had his work cut out for him. This nurse had it out for him and she was making sure that he was not going to be able to take Brian home as easily as he planned.

Howie could tell by the look on Nick's face that he was plotting something. He watched Nick go up to the wheel chair and unlock the wheels. The nurse and Howie stood watching Nick.

"Ah, Nick, what are you doing?" Howie asked.

Nick looked up at Howie, with an innocent look upon his face. "Ah, just want to take Bri for a walk outside. Fresh air would do him some good, don't you think?"

The nurse eyed Nick suspiciously. "As long as it's only for a walk outside, I guess so." She then outstretched her hand. "I want the keys to your vehicle."

Nick's mouth dropped open. How could she know what he was thinking.

"I don't trust you," she said as she waited for Nick to produce the keys.

Pulling the keys out of his front pocket, Nick slapped them into her hand rather roughly. "Fine."

Howie followed Nick and Brian out the back door, not saying a word. He listened to Nick talking to Brian, carrying on a one sided conversation. Tears stung his eyes, he felt and knew that Brian would never be the same and it saddened him to think that Nick was still clinging to hope that Brian would come back to them.

Nick parked the wheel chair in the sunshine. He pulled a lawn chair next to Brian. "Doesn't this feel good, Bri?"

Brian sat in the wheel chair, face expressionless. He blinked his eyes when the breeze played with his hair.

"Brian, you were sleeping when we were talking earlier, I'm taking you home with me, I'm taking you out of here. No more injections!" Nick smiled happily at Brian. He searched his face for some sign that Brian understood, but was only met with a blank stare.

Upon hearing Nick say that he was taking him home, Brian felt a feeling of relief wash over him. He knew that Nick would be able to unlock the key that was keeping him trapped in an unresponsive world. Deep down Brian felt it had to do with the meds they were injecting into his system.

"All I have to do is learn how to care for you and they will release you to me. So I have to learn this fast so you can get out of this godforsaken hell hole." As Nick spoke he looked around the grounds at the various residents of the nursing home that Brian was placed in. "That nurse of yours was a total bitch telling me I had to know about the tubes and stuff that you need. I really hate her, man. But it will be all good in a day, trust me."

*~*~*~*

Nick sat in the darkened auditorium next to Kevin. He was there under protest. They had scheduled the auditions for the replacement for Brian.

Nick played with the indiglow button on his watch, flashing it on and off. Kevin, seeing the light flashing out of the corner of his eye, clamped his hand down on top of Nick's wrist.

"Would you knock it off? Can't you sit still for an hour?" Kevin whispered harshly at Nick.

"I don't think this is right, I mean, replacing Brian? Kev, you know how I feel about this," Nick snapped back in a heated whisper.

AJ leaned up and put his index finger to his lips. "SHHHHH."

Nick's reply was a quick flip of his middle finger back at AJ. Kevin reached up and smacked Nick in the back of the head.

"OUCH. What the hell was that for?" Nick shouted angrily at Kevin.

The commotion that was being created by the guys caused everyone in the auditorium to turn and look back at the row of seats that they were occupying. Turning red, Nick jumped up and grabbed his jacket.

"I'm outta here," he said with a crisp tone in his voice.

Everyone watched Nick storm up the aisle, slamming the theatre's heavy swinging doors and disappearing behind them.

The bright Florida sun nearly blinded Nick as he exited the darkened hall. He pulled out his sunglasses and slipped them on, never stopping. Unlocking the driver's door to his Durango, he slid in and started the engine. Nick looked into the rearview mirror in time to see Howie stepping out of the auditorium, more than likely trying to stop Nick from leaving.

As he stomped his foot on the accelerator, the tires squealed for an added statement of his anger. Today was the day that Brian was coming home. Today was the day that he did not need this laid on his shoulders.

With the stereo blaring, Nick pulled into the parking lot at the Just Like Home Center in Bradenton. This was the place Brian's parents had selected for him to stay. This was the place Nick wanted him to leave.

Nick stopped at the nurses station. "I'm here to take Brian Littrell home."

A small, feeble looking woman at the desk nervously shuffled papers around. "Oh, yes, you're the one."

"There's some papers I have to sign, could I have them please?" Nick asked, leaning over the blue countertop.

"Ah, well, um, let me call Marge," the woman stammered.

Nick started walking down the hall to Brian's room. "Just bring them down when you find the papers, Marge or both," Nick called out over his shoulder.

He walked into Brian's room to find him laying in bed, with a nurse finishing up yet another injection. Nick cursed, causing the woman to turn around quickly.

"I'm sorry, did you say something?"

Nick sighed. "I'm here to take Brian home." He walked over to the dresser and opened the drawers looking for anything of Brian's that needed to go with him. Every drawer he opened was empty.

"Well buddy, you ready to leave this hole?" Nick asked, clapping his hands together nervously.

Brian blinked.

"I take that as a yes then," Nick tried to find a little encouragement in any move that Brian made, regardless of it being uncontrolled or not.

After pulling the wheel chair up to the side of the bed, Nick pulled the covers back from Brian.

"Aww, shit, you're in a hospital gown, I forgot," Nick stated as he realized he was unprepared.

The nurse named Marge entered the room with paperwork and a hospital bag. She held the bag out to Nick.

"These are his clothes. You need to sign the papers before he can be discharged. Call me when you have him dressed," Marge turned on her heels and left the room aburptly.

"Call me when you have him dressed," Nick mocked the woman's voice. He turned his attention back towards Brian. "Well buddy, I guess it's now or never."

*~*~*~*

Nate was still having a hard time believing that he was the new Backstreet Boy. He had taken notes and had paid close attention to the person that had taught him how to conduct himself in an interview and with one on one with fans and reporters.

Sitting in the dressing room with the rest of the group, waiting to be called out for the MTV press conference, Nathan sat back in the corner, watching Nick Carter pacing in the room, occasionally picking up things and throwing them.

"I don't like this Kevin, not at all," Nick grumbled as he paced. His gaze fell on Nathan, sitting in the corner. Nathan squirmed in his chair, feeling uncomfortable.

"Nick, wouldcha just knock it off? I mean you're not being very nice to Nate here. It's not his fault that Brian had to go," AJ reprimanded.

Nick stared at Nate. "He's never gonna replace Brian. You realize this is only temporary, don't you?"

Nate shifted in his chair. He met Nick's stares but couldn't respond.

Nick laughed sarcastically. "Figured as much, you think this is permanent? Don't quit your day job."

Before anyone could respond to Nick's mean comments, a blonde-haired female stage hand entered the room.

"Hey, they're ready for ya'all right now, follow me please," the young girl gestured with her hand for them to walk out the door.

Kevin motioned for Nick to go ahead of him, making sure that he was distanced from Nathan. As they approached the table, Kevin was disappointed to see that they had placed name tags on the table and that Nathan was to be seated next to Nick at the end.

Kevin leaned forward and harshly whispered into Nick's ear. "Be professional, okay? Give the kid a break."

Nick nodded as if to say he was agreeing with Kevin. Taking his seat at the table, he had a stare-down with AJ, watching him walk towards his seat. AJ leaned towards Howie. "I have a really bad feeling about this."

Howie nodded, not saying a word.

Kevin tensed up when the camera lights went on, this was a live broadcast and he had no clue as to how Nick would behave during the show.

"Hi ya'all, Ananda Lewis, excited to give you this press interview with Nick, Howie, Kevin AJ and Nathan. Yeah, you heard me right girls, Nathan, the new additon to the BSB."

Nick's eyes narrowed as he heard Ananda say Nathan's name. He felt as if she was betraying Brian. She and Brian had gotten along so well in the past and now she was acting like Brian never existed.

"First off, rumors are running wild about the reason Brian Littrell left the group. Who wants to clear the rumors up?" Ananda asked no one in particular.

Kevin started to answer the question, but Nick overrode Kevin's voice.

"About four weeks ago Brian was in a car accident. It has taken him some time but he is slowly recovering," as Nick spoke the last sentence, he emphasized the word recovering, leaning forward and looking directly at Kevin.

"Oh, so Brian will be returning to the group then, I take it?" Ananda quizzed Nick.

"Yes," Nick replied quickly.

"No," Kevin replied at the end of Nick's reply.

Ananda looked at them, confused. "So which one is it guys?"

Kevin sighed. "As much as we would like to believe Nick's answers, it really doesn't appear at this time that Brian will be able to continue his career with us."

Ananda shook her head. "So are the rumors true then, I really hate to ask you guys, but we need to know, is Brian okay cause I heard he was in a nursing home facility.

"Brian is living with me. I'm helping him through this," Nick replied, his gaze fixed beyond the cameras.

Nick stopped listening for the rest of the interview, tuning out all of the hype over Nathan. As soon as the interview was finished, Nick jumped up from his seat, knocking it over backwards. The sooner he got out of the studios in Orlando and back to Tampa to Brian, the better.

*~*~*~*

It had been only a few days since Brian had been taken home to Nick's but he was thinking that he noticed some good, positive changes that were taking place within him. Although Brian still wasn't able to verbalize his thoughts, he was able to raise his hand up ever so slightly. Nick hadn't noticed his accomplishment yet, meaning that it was so slight that only Brian knew it was happening, but yet he was satisfied to think that at least something was happening.

Nick appeared in front of Brian's view of the television screen. "Hey buddy, are you ready to get dressed for bed?"

Brian wanted to scream out NO. He dreaded being helped to do anything. Having his friend dress and feed him humiliated Brian beyond words. Nick never complained about doing all of the chores that Brian was unable to do for himself, which was everything.

He wanted to cry that whole hour it took Nick to undress, sponge bathe and dress him again. Nick talked to him the whole time, talking about things that he did during the day when he was away and the visiting nurse was there to care for Brian.

"There, I bet that feels better, don't it?" Nick asked as he ran the gauze pad that was dipped in clean warm water over Brian's teeth. That was the closet that Brian would be able to come to having his teeth brushed.

Brian wished there were some way to communicate with Nick. Nick kept the smile on his face even when he shifted Brian into a more comfortable position in the rented hospital bed.

"There, I bet you feel good for the night." Nick lifted the covers up and pulled them up and around Brian's neck. Turning off the light, Nick's frame was silhouetted against the artifical light source coming from the living room.

"Good night Brian, see you in the morning." Nick softly closed the door behind him.

********

Brian woke to the sound of birds singing and the sunlight hitting him directly on the face from a slit that was in the curtain. Blinking, from the pain of the direct light, Brian waited for his pupils to adjust to the brightness of the sunlight.

A move that had been taken for granted occurred when Brian turned his head away from the offending stream of sunshine. When he heard the sound of the door opening, he then realized that he had regained control of being able to at least turn his head. He anxiously waited to see what Nick's reaction would be.

Nick was looking down at the newspaper when he entered the bedroom. He glanced up to see if Brian was awake.

"Good morning Brian, how are you feeling this morning?" Nick asked his best friend, not expecting a reply. When he walked over to the drapes and drew them back, he noticed then that Brian had turned his head towards him.

"Oh my god, Brian! It's coming back, isn't it?" Nick waited for some response. Brian just stared at him, blinking back the tears.

"They didn't believe me, but I knew it would happen, I knew it. I'm calling Dr. Johnson, she will have to come and check you out," Nick stated as he left the bedroom.

'NO! NO!' Brian silently screamed. He knew deep in his heart now that it was something this doctor prescribed that caused his paralysis. If Nick got her to come out to the house, she would be certain to give him the wrong medications again.

Brian's fears were confirmed when Nick re-entered the bedroom with the phone in his hand.

"Okay, I'll make sure he will be ready to see you this afternoon at five. Thanks Doctor Johnson." Nick clicked the phone off and placed it on the nightstand beside Brian's bed. "She's just as suprised as I am that you are coming around! She's putting a call into the home nurse and the nurse will come out sometime this morning to give you an injection to help the healing process according to Dr. Johnson. I'm so happy this is happening, Brian! I can't wait to tell Kevin. He figured this would never happen. Can you believe that? Your own cousin giving up on you so quick."

Brian's mind was racing, trying to think of what he could do to stop this from happening. He felt his heart drop at the mention of a nurse coming out to give him more medication. Brian felt that this was his only chance at communication and he silently prayed that he would be able to communicate somehow before the nurse arrived.

Trying to see if he was able to move anything else, Brian was happy to discover that he was able to move his hand. Nick noticed the movement.

"Hey! You can move your hands! Do you think you can write?" Nick asked.

Brian just stared at Nick, unable to talk. Nick decided to try a piece of paper on a clipboard and handed it to Brian.

Trying desperately to write the word "NO" on the slip of paper, Brian knew instantly he failed when Nick tried to read it. He held the paper up for Brian to see. His heart sank when he saw that there weren't any letters on the paper, only faint scribble marks.

"Relax Brian, everything's gonna be okay," Nick stated as he gently tapped Brian on the shoulder. "I wonder if you can swallow on your own yet," Nick thought out loud. "Be right back."

Brian watched Nick leave the bedroom and then he heard sounds of cupboard doors opening and closing. Nick returned to the room holding a tall glass with a straw hanging in it.

"Here, try this, let's see if you can sip it," Nick said as he held the glass under Brian's lips and placed the straw in his mouth.

Sucking on the straw, Brian got a taste of apple juice. It tasted like heaven to him. He was able to drink something on his own!

"Wow! God Brian, you're doing so good. I'm so happy." Nick commented as he happily watched Brian drink the juice.

"Hey Brian! How's it going pal?"

Nick whirled around, nearly spilling the juice on Brian when he heard AJ's voice.

AJ laughed when he saw how startled Nick was. "Hey, I let myself in with my key, I wasn't sure if you'd be tied up with Brian or not."

"Hey, Brian is drinking on his own! Watch this!" Nick put the cup under his Brian's chin and placed the straw in his mouth. Brian accepted the straw and drank as Nick commanded.

"Hey, dude! Thats pretty good!" AJ commented and started to walk out the bedroom door. "Nick, do you have coffee on yet?"

"No, go ahead and make some, you know where the stuff is," Nick called out after AJ.

*~*~*~*~*

Brian turned his head towards the sound of AJ and Nick walking into the bedroom, escorting the visiting nurse in.

"Hi Brian, my name is Elizabeth and Doctor Johnson wanted me to stop in and give you an injection to help you heal faster."

They watched the nurse rummage through her bag until she pulled out a syringe and a bottle of golden fluid. As she prepared an area of skin on Brian's arm, Brian started to shake his head "no" in slow, even movements.

Nick clamped a hand on Brian's shoulder. "It's okay, I know how much you hate shots, pal."

Brian wanted to scream out. Suddenly he felt the warmth enter his veins, and then total blackness overtook him.

"There, he should be good as new in no time," Elizabeth stated as she pulled the latex gloves off and tossed them into the trash basket. "Um, Dr. Johnson wanted this med to be injected every two hours, around the clock, it would make more sense if I could show you how to do this rather than having someone come out here every couple of hours. Would you be willing to learn?" Elizabeth asked Nick.

"Hey, Nick! Don't look at me, man, you know how much I hate needles. If you want to learn, you do it, I'll be behind you every step of the way," AJ replied.

Nick laughed. "Ok Mr. Tatoo Man, I'll learn how to. If Brian needs this, I will do whatever I have to to help him."

"Good, I'll stick around until his next doseage needs to be administered and show you then," she replied with a smile.

*~*~*~*~*

Brian awoke to discover that he could no longer swallow or turn his head. Hearing footsteps in his room, he had to wait until Nick's face came within his view and he saw that Nick was no longer with AJ, it was Dr. Johnson.

"Brian, Dr. Johnson's here to check you over," Nick stated happily. "I've told her how well you've progressed! Show her how you can move your head."

Nick and Dr. Johnson waited for Brian to turn his head. Brian just stared back at them, unable to move.

"I don't understand it, he was able to do that this morning, he was drinking from a straw and everything," Nick commented softly.

Dr. Johnson held up a vial of blue liquid and a syringe. "It was probably temporary and involuntary. This type of thing is typical with brain injury patients, I'm sorry he got your hopes up."

Brian tried to fight off the feelings of dispair that were creeping up on him as he watched the doctor prepare the syringe with a fluid that would definately keep him trapped in his silent world forever. The tears started to slip down his cheeks.

"Brian? Why are you crying? Are you hurting somewhere?" Nick asked his friend.

Before he could stop her, Dr. Johnson plunged the needle into Brian's skin, injecting the medication. Brian drifted off into unconsciousness.

"There, I will be back in another five days to readminister this medication. This will help with his central nervous system and hopefully put him on the track to getting better," Dr. Johnson lied. "Make sure he gets the other meds as prescribed, they work together. Did the nurse show you how to do it?"

Nick nodded. "I will do whatever it takes for Brian to get better."

*~*~*~*~*

Nick had to leave Brian for a few days while the group had to kick off the beginning of a welcome back tour in Orlando. He hired a male home health nurse to look after Brian. He would be returning home in a few days and felt that his choice was a good one

"There you go, Littrell, I knew you'd want to see this, all your friends onstage," Mark, the male nurse stated as he positioned the wheel chair directly in front of the television screen.

Brian knew that Nick had left explicit instructions that he was not to watch the live televised concert for the Backstreet Boys and Mark went ahead and put him in front of the television set knowing full well that he would not be able to look away. Brian sat, staring at the screen, watching them onstage, feeling hurt.

Mark laughed sarcastically. "Bet you never dreamed you'd be in this predicament three months ago, eh, Littrell?"

Mark left the room and came back in with a box of pizza and a 2liter of Coke. Sitting down in view of Brian, he started to eat his meal. "Bet you haven't had something good like this to eat in weeks," Mark commented, mouth full of pizza.

Brian could only stare back at him. Mark had not fed him since he was left in charge seven hours ago. Brian was starving and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it.

"Oh, hey, I just realized I forgot to give you your meds today," Mark slapped himself lightly on the side of the head, pretending to be concerned by his lack of care. "Oh well, it would only serve to make you get well and be more comfortable, no big deal I suppose, right, Littrell?" Mark paused for Brian to answer. He laughed when there wasn't any response. "Yeah, I thought so."

Mark got up and started turning lights off. "God, I feel pretty damn tired, watching you makes me tired. I'm going to bed, don't stay up too late," Mark laughed as he turned the TV and the lights out. Brian sat in the livingroom, still strapped in his chair, in silence.

*~*~*~*

Brian awoke in the morning in the same place he was left at the night before. He heard Mark in the kitchen rummaging through the cupboards. "God you'd think for someone being a celeb that these cupboards would hold better food!"

Mark walked out into the living room eating a bowl of cereal. "Hey, I see you're up all ready!" Mark laughed. He stood there for a moment sizing up Brian. "I suppose since your little backdoor buddy will be showing up in about four hours that I should clean you up. You are starting to smell," he stated with disgusted tone in his voice.

Brian just stared ahead. He knew he could turn his head again since he had missed a day and a half worth of medications, but didn't want to let on with Mark for fear he would drug him up.

Mark left the room and returned with a basin of water, shaving cream and razors. "I prefer electric razor on my face, but hell, you ain't going nowhere and I need the practice."

Mark roughly started to shave Brian's face, nicking him several times and laughing as he went along. Mercifully, Mark was interrupted when the phone rang.

"Carter's. Yeah, oh yeah he's doing okay. Not a problem I will see you then." Mark hung the phone up and sighed loudly.

Returning to Brian, he wiped the shaving cream off his face roughly. "That was your little gay friend. He's not coming home for another four hours. You are really a fucking inconvenience, Littrell. I guess we should wash you up so I got that out of the way."

Startled, Brian heard water running in the bathroom. What is he doing? Nick never runs the shower, he just uses a basin of water

Brian's worse fears were confirmed when Mark came back into the room and jerked his wheel chair out of the room into the bathroom.

Mark roughly stripped the clothing off of Brian and then tossed him into the scalding hot water. Brian wanted to cry out in pain from the water hitting his skin, but could only manage to blink away the tears.

The nurse laughed as he held the shower head down on Brian's face. He seemed amused as Brian gasped for air, sputtering, trying to avoid the water beating on his face.

Mark purposely squirted a heavy amount of liquid soap on Brian's body, hitting his face with it. Finally, after what seemed forever to Brian, Mark got tired of the game he was playing and pulled his body roughly out of the tub and partially toweled him dry.

The clothing Mark dressed Brian in was tight and restrictive. Brian couldn't protest his discomfort.

"There you go, Littrell, bet you feel much better now," Mark sneered as he shoved him back into the wheel chair.

Mark pushed Brian into the bedroom. Stomping his foot on the pedals of the wheel chair, he forced it to spring Brian forward and flung him towards him. Mark caught him before he fell to the ground and threw him roughly onto the bed.

"There you go, Littrell. You won't be a thorn in my side for the rest of the afternoon. Oh and by the way, don't mention me missing your meds today, it will be our little secret. I see they're sedatives, thats pretty good shit too," Mark laughed.

Brian was laying in an ackward positon on the bed. Mark didn't bother straightening his body like Nick lovingly did. Brian ached for Nick to return to take him out of this hell.

"Have a fun day, Littrell," Mark sneered as he turned away and closed the bedroom door behind him.

Brian was jolted awake when he heard the bedroom door bang open. Instead of seeing Nick enter the room, he saw Mark, who appeared to be staggering.

"Wow Littrell, what the hell kind of meds did they give you? This is good shit," Mark's speech was slow and calculated. He was holding a vial of the medication in his hand. One vial dropped and fell to the floor, rolling underneath the bed.

Oh my god, he took two doses! Brian thought to himself as he watched Mark hang on the door, swaying back and forth, his eyelids obviously getting heavier.

Without saying another word, Mark dropped to the floor. Brian could do nothing for him but lay in his bed and pray that Nick would be returning soon.

*~*~*~*~*

"Honey, I'm home!" Nick laughed as he entered the kitchen door through the garage. He tossed his overnight bag down onto the floor and scooped up the mail that was laying on the counter. He suddenly noticed the quietness in the house and felt the hair on the back of his neck prickle.

"Mark? Brian? Anyone?" Nick set the mail down and started out for the bedroom, hoping to find Brian asleep in his bed.

Nick pushed up against the bedroom door and was shocked to discover that there was some resistance at his attempts at opening the door. He pushed it harder and managed to produce an opening large enough for him to squeeze through

"What the heck is going on in here---" Nick's voice dropped off when he saw a body laying on the floor. "Oh my god, Brian?"

Nick knelt down next to the body and discovered it was Mark, the male nurse. He immediately could see that Mark was acting the way Brian has been. He looked up and saw Brian laying across his bed, uncovered and his body in an ackward position.

"Brian!" Nick rushed over towards the bed and was relieved to see Brian looking at him. Nick immediately set about straightening Brian into a more comfortable position.

"What the hell happened here?" Nick commented as he covered Brian up.

"m-m-m-m-m-m," Brian managed to make a noise. It wasn't what he had planned on saying, but it was pretty damn close, he thought.

Nick's head jerked back up looking at Brian's face.

"Brian? Take it slow, okay, try it again," Nick could barely contain the excitement of hearing Brian try to speak.

"m-m-m-m-m," Brian started out again. Distressed, he stopped and shook his head no. God, he wanted to tell Nick that Mark stole his meds and took them and that was why he was laying on the floor.

Nick picked up the phone on the nightstand and dialed 9-1-1. He reported that there had been an accident and an ambulance was needed immediately.

Nick patted Brian on the shoulder. Looking at his face, Nick could see that he had not been cared for in his absence. His face was scratched up from the rough shaving Mark forced upon him and his hair was matted, greasy looking.

"He didn't take care of you, did he?" Nick asked quietly.

Brian's eyes filled with tears. He slowly shook his head no.

"I'm sorry Brian," Nick sadly replied. "I'm so, so, sorry."

*~*~*~*~*

Nick had a difficult time trying to fill in the gaps for the ambulance personnel when they came to take Mark away to the hospital. He held out the empty vials of medications prescribed for Brian that Mark had possibly injected into himself.

The paramedic thanked Nick for his help and he and the police office advised Nick that someone would possibly be contacting him again in a few days.

Nick once again turned his thoughts back on Brian. Grabbing five pillows, Nick returned to the bedroom to prop Brian up better, into a slight sitting position.

There appeared to be a smile on Brian's face, it was slight, but nonetheless, it was a smile.

"Are you feeling better? I see you're smiling!" Nick commented happily.

Brian managed to nod "yes."

"Okay, that's good to hear, buddy. Let me get you started back on the schedule with your meds and then we can get you fed and cleaned up, okay?" Nick turned and left the room to get the medications before Brian had a chance to try and vocalize his disagreement.

Do something, dammit! You have to stop this from happening! Tell him no, it's just a simple word....no! Come on, Brian, you can do it! Brian was coaching himself into trying to tell Nick not to give him the medication.

Nick returned into the room, latex gloves on, vial of the med in one hand, syringe in the other. "I feel like George Clooney!" Nick laughed.

Brian tried to form the words in his mouth, he was shaking his head no over and over but Nick seemed to be too preoccupied with clensing the area where he was to stick the needle. Just as Nick placed the barrel of the syringe next to Brian's skin, it happened.

"NO."

The needle was pulled back. Nick's head jerked up, his eyes met Brian's deep, clear blue eyes.

Brian licked his lips. "NO."

"No? You don't like the shots?" Nick asked.

Brian shook his head "no." God, I have to get this through to Nick, these shots are making me worse, not better! "NO."

After setting the vial and the syringe down on the nightstand, Nick removed the latex gloves.

"No what? No you don't want the med?" Nick asked, desperately trying to figure out what Brian was trying to communicate.

Brian sighed a heavy sigh of relief. My God, Carter finally figured it out! Brian shook his head "yes" vigorously. "NO."

"I guess if you are refusing the meds, I have no choice but to honor your request. Brian, are you up to eating something a little more solid this morning, I mean, since you're talking a little bit and swallowing, I could make you some scrambled eggs, how does that sound?" Nick asked as he scooped the medication and the syringe off of the nightstand.

Brian wanted to shout out "LIKE HEAVEN" but was only able to shake his head "yes." He didn't seem to care that Nick would be cooking it, meaning there would be an occasional stray eggshell here and there, god, anything but liquid protein drinks would taste good to him.

"Okay then, I'll start cooking and after that, I will get you cleaned up, I'm sure he didn't do anything for you when I was gone," Nick turned and left the bedroom, but before he left, he turned the television set on and placed the remote control in Brian's hand, just in case he could try to work the buttons.

"Be back in a few," Nick smiled.

Brian grinned slightly back at his best friend. He was happy to have Nick home!

*~*~*~*~*

Brian and Nick sat together on the back balcony, looking down at the man-made pond, watching the ducks swimming.

Brian was still limited to his communications to just yes and no answers and nodding his head, but he was slowly coming around. Nick was happy with his progress, but still hadn't associated the medications being stopped with Brian's improvement.

Setting down the Orlando Sentinal, Nick glanced over at Brian, sitting in his wheel chair. "So what do you think we should do today?"

Brian looked at Nick. There were a million and one things he would love to do. Before he could answer, the doorbell chimed.

"Hold that thought, be right back," Nick excused himself to answer the door.

I would just love to go out for a ride in the car, just to get out of this stupid chair and feel free, but I don't know how to tell Nick that, Brian thought to himself. His thoughts were interrupted when Nick appeared back out on the balcony, his face drained of color. He was followed by two uniformed Florida State Troopers.

Brian's heart sank. He immediately sensed that something terrible had happened. Nick didn't utter a word just reached for the cordless phone and punched in a telephone number.

Nick's voice was tense when he spoke. "Kev, this is Nick. I need you to come out to my house right now. I don't have time to explain."

Nick clicked the phone off and set it back down on the table.

Brian looked up at Nick, his eyebrows furrowed. Something had happened to someone, why wasn't Nick telling him what had happened? Was it Howie or AJ, it wasn't Kevin because Nick called him. Then Brian thought about Nick's own family. Could something have happened to Aaron or to one of his sisters? Brian searched Nick's face for some type of clue, but there were none.

Then he heard it.

"Mr. Carter, you have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be held against you in the court of law..." The officer spoke as he turned Nick away from him, clicking handcuffs on his wrists as he placed them behind his back.

They're reading Nick his rights! He's getting arrested?

Kevin burst through the door, running through Nick's living room. "NICK! WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?"

"Out here," Nick answered, his voice sounding filled with worry.

Kevin stopped short when he saw Nick standing on the balcony, his hands handcuffed behind his back.

"What the hell is going on here?" Kevin asked in a semi-calm voice.

"Mr. Carter is being taken into custody," the tall dark haired trooper replied matter-of-factly.

"I can see that, but why?" Kevin asked, glancing over quickly at Brian to make sure he was okay.

"We have reason to believe he has been tampering with medications that were being given to Mr. Littrell. He is being arrested for murder," again the officer carried a business tone in his voice.

Before Kevin could ask another question, the officer guided Nick towards the french doors to lead him out to the squad car.

"But that's insane, where the hell did you dream that idea up from? And Brian is alive!" Kevin persisted.

"The toxiology report taken from the home nurse, Mark Livingston."

Kevin was beginning to get annoyed with their vagueness in telling him what was going on.

"Who the hell is Mark Livingston?" Kevin stood between the officers and the front door, refusing to allow them to leave.

Both officers seemed to be annoyed with Kevin. "Sir, you need to move."

"I won't move until you explain yourselves," Kevin replied, planting his feet firmly down.

"You realize you can be charged with obstructing justice," the other trooper stated.

"I'm not moving," Kevin was firm in his convictions.

The trooper sighed. "Mark Livingston was the home health nurse hired by Mr. Carter to care for Brian Littrell during his absence when work called him away. Upon Mr. Carter's return from work, Mr. Livingston was found semi-conscious on Carter's bedroom floor. Mr. Livingston apparently injected himself with two vials of Brian Littrell's medications that had been prescribed for him by a Dr. Johnson. Mr. Livingston died from the overdose of medications. The autospy preformed on Mr. Livingston concluded that there was an elevated amount of Mercury in his bloodstream, which was also found in the vials of medication."

Kevin was confused. "Dr. Johnson ordered those medications to be administered. You should be looking at her ass, not at Nick," Kevin snapped back at the officers.

"We interviewed Dr. Johnson, she said that the medications had to have been tampered by Mr. Carter," the officer replied. He started to move towards the door.

"Nick, this isn't true! Aren't you going to say anything?" Kevin called out after Nick as they were leading him down the front sidewalk, barefoot.

"He's been read his rights, he's doing the smart thing and not speaking," the officer replied.

"Call my dad, he knows how to contact my attorney," Nick quietly spoke.

"I will, Nick. Don't worry, everything will be okay," Kevin called out.

Kevin stood on the front steps, watching the officer open the back door of the squad car and put his hand ontop of Nick's head and literally pushing him into the backseat of the car. Sitting in the back seat, Nick hung his head down, never looking up.

*~*~*~*

Nick kept his head down the entire ride to the police station. He tried to think of a way to get out of this mess, to prove that the medications he got were not tampered with by him, they had to have been tampered with at the pharmacy or after they got to his house, but by whom or how was going to be the tricky part.

"Here we are, your new home for awhile," the trooper stated as they pulled up in the port beside the sliding doors leading into the jail.

The trooper opened the door and took Nick by his arm, pulling him out of the back seat. As they led him into the jailhouse, Nick kept his head down, fearing that someone would see him. He felt humiliated.

They took Nick to a window, a heavyset female clerk, with glasses that had slid halfway down her nose, glanced up.

"Hey Vicki, how's it going?" the trooper was making small talk. Nick winced, feeling numbed by how they were acting like they were conducting business at a yard sale.

"Pretty good, thanks. Busy day so far, but that's okay makes the shift go a lot faster." As the clerk talked, she pulled out a white form. With her pen poised over the sheet she started going down the list. "Name?"

Nick started to open his mouth, but the cop spoke for him. "Carter, Nickolas Gene, c-a-r-t-e-r, n-i-c-k-o-l-a-s, g-e-n-e, dob 1-28-80, male."

The trooper drilled off every aspect of Nick's name, address and telephone number. He felt like a piece of meat, being appraised for sale. Then the humiliation really began for him.

"Follow me into this room." The trooper took Nick and led him to a small room. The room was brightly lit by florescent lighting, the humming sounded like something out of a horror picture. There was a screen that measured off height with lines going across it and a camera at the other side of the room.

Looking down at the form the trooper had in his hand, he started his next task, talking to the clerk that was sitting behind a desk in the room.

"c-a-r-t-e-r, n-i-c-k-o-l-a-s, g-e-n-e. Number 29578635." He drilled the letters and numbers out slowly and clearly.

Nick stood there, head down.

The trooper uncuffed Nick's hands. Nick instinctively grabbed his wrists and rubbed them. The handcuffs had dug into his skin, leaving marks.

The young clerk took a strip of paper with Nick's name and prisioner number and laid it on the table next to a black inkpad. Nick avoided all eye contact with her, he was afraid she knew who he was.

The clerk never spoke as she fingerprinted Nick and took his mug shots. Nick stared blankly off into space during the whole incident, he was innocent but he felt oddly guilty, shamed by the whole thing.

After being booked, as they told him, the arresting trooper exchanged Nick's care to another police officer who took Nick to a room that appeared to be a laundry room.

A man standing behind the counter in a bright orange jumpsuit stared at the police officer, waiting for him to speak.

"Size?" The officer barked out at Nick.

Nick, in a daze didn't answer at first. The cop shook his arm. "SIZE?"

"Uh, I dunno," Nick quietly replied. How the hell was he to know what size he would wear in something they would be making him put on?

"Looks like 38," the officer gruffly told the trustee behind the counter. The man left and returned with a bright orange jumpsuit and held it out for Nick to take along with a pillow and a thin blanket and some type of slippers.

Nick took the items from the man.

Then the worst thing that could ever happen to Nick in his entire life unfolded when he was led into another room off the laundry room.

"Strip down," the officer barked.

Nick slowly did as he was told.

"Step on it boy, this ain't a tour stop!" The officer spat out.

Nick suddenly realized that this man knew exactly who he was. He quickly removed his clothing. He was then subjected to a search and after the officer was done, Nick was ordered to put on the prison clothing.

The jumpsuit they gave him was two sizes too big and hung loosely over his shoulders. He almost tripped over the pantlegs, but the officer kept him moving down the hallway.

He stopped at a white door, taking the keys that were attached to his belt and unlocked the door gesturing with his head. "In here."

Nick entered the room. It was small, had a stainless steel toilet in one corner, a sink and a steel table, almost what you see in a vet's office. A tiny camera was perched up high next to the ceiling.

The door slammed behind him. Nick sat on the bed and let his emotions wash over him. The tears he had been holding back started to run down his cheeks and he wasn't sure if they would ever stop. As far as he was concerned, he didn't care if they never stopped.

*~*~*~*~*

Kevin stared as Brian sat in the chair, tears streaming down his face.

“Brian, I’m sure Nick didn’t mean to do it,” Kevin started out. This caused Brian to turn his head quickly in Kevin’s direction.

“NO.” Brian tried desperately to make Kevin understand that he couldn’t possibly blame Nick, he blamed the doctor, this had been going on well before he left the hospital.

“Yes, Brian, he didn’t mean to do it.” Kevin patted Brian on the shoulder, talking to him as if he were a three year old in need of praise and approval.

Dammit, how can I get Kevin to understand?

Brian shook his head no vigorously. “NO. NO. NO.”

“Calm down Brian, I have to call Nick’s dad.”

Kevin picked the phone up off the table and walked into the house leaving Brian alone on the balcony, dealing with thoughts, living in a private hell.

Brian heard the phone ringing and Kevin answering it. Straining to hear Kevin’s end of the conversation, Brian struck out. Kevin appeared in the doorway with his arms folded across his chest.

“That was your Dr. Johnson. She said it was imperative that you get your medications started up immediately,” Kevin was sizing Brian up while he spoke. “Problem is, how am I gonna go to the pharmacy to get your meds and bring you along with me? How did Nick do this?” Kevin wondered aloud.

Brian immediately started shaking his head no again. There was no possible way to communicate his needs with Kevin. God, I don’t need those drugs, they are what is doing this to me! Can’t anyone see this?

Kevin rustled Brian’s hair up before he sat down in the chair. He quickly snapped his fingers as an idea entered his mind.

“I can get AJ to get the medicine! Brilliant idea if I say so myself,” Kevin smiled as he got out of the chair and walked into the house to retrieve the cordless phone.

Brian's thoughts raced. He was trying to figure a way out to let his cousin know that he didn't need the drugs, that they were hurting him, not helping him!

"AJ said it won't be a problem, he will be over here in a few hours with the medication. Now, Brian, how about some dinner? I thought I saw some of your protein drinks in the fridge, be right back," Kevin turned and walked into the house.

God, not those drinks! I need Nick, Brian thought to himself, slowly feeling the despair of the situation creep up on him.

*~*~*~*~*

Nick looked up at the door when he heard a scraping noise. A styrofoam plate sat on the ledge. Nick stared at the door for a few moments before deciding to get up and see what it was.

Looking at the plate, he saw a grilled peanut butter and jelly sandwich, a small handful of potato chips and an apple. A paper cup held white milk.

Nick turned away from the door and sat back down on the bed, putting his head in his hands. He wasn't hungry. He kept worrying about Brian. Kevin had absolutely no idea of how to care for him.

He realized that if he was getting served a meal that would mean that Brian would or should be getting his dinner. Nick worried that Kevin wouldn't know that Brian was able to chew, but only soft foods, he wasn't ready for things like burgers and fries.

Nick tried to shut the thoughts out. There wasn't anything he could do for Brian, not here, not now. He laid down, trying to find solace in sleep.

He woke up when he heard the door creak open. A guard stepped inside. "Come with me."

Nick obeyed and followed the guard. He pointed for him to walk in front of him. Nick had no idea where he was to be going.

"The outside of the white line, boy," the guard barked at Nick.

Nick jumped to the outer side of the line, away from the walls and the doors. He was literally walking down the middle of the hall.

They stopped at the end of the hall where heavy metal bars separated them from entering the next set of halls. The guard at the doors opened the set with a buzzer. It made a loud noise like a stereo speaker shorting out. The guard pushed Nick in the back to go through the doors.

Standing there waiting for the doors to close behind them, Nick realized that he no longer had control over anything he wanted to say or do.

"Hold your hands out, palms up," the guard barked out.

Startled, Nick did as he was requested. The short, muscular black man slapped handcuffs on Nick's wrists. He then bent down and slapped metal cuffs on his ankles. Then he placed a chain around Nick's waist and attached the chain to the handcuffs.

The other door buzzed open and Nick was nudged out. It was ackward trying to walk with the shackles on his legs, the chains making a clanging noise with each step he took.

Walking down the long hallway seemed to take forever to Nick until they came to another barred door. This time there was a guard with a clipboard. Another guard was standing there, evidentally waiting for Nick and the guard.

"Carter, 29578635," the guard crisply stated.

The guard holding the clipboard scribbled something down on the paper. He handed the clipboard to the man accompanying Nick.

After the clipboard was handed back, the guard standing next to the door ordered Nick through it. Nick realized that they had just transferred responsiblity of him from one guard to another.

Transferred responsibility.

The bright Florida sunshine hit Nick's eyes, momentairly blinding him. After a couple of steps, he saw a white panel van with windows all around it. It had big blue letters on the side. It said, FLORIDA STATE DEPARTMENT OF CORRECTIONS. The windows had wires running through it, there were bars separating the driver from the back of the van.

The guard dragged the side door open.

"In here."

Ackwardly, Nick tried to get his foot up to step into the van. There were two rows of small, black vinyl seats, hooks on the floor and in the middle of the seats.

Nick took the first seat and sat down. The guard unhooked the chain that connected Nick's handcuffs to his waist. With a quick motion, he took that chain and paddlelocked it to the hook in the seat. He took another strap and laced it around Nick's ankles and secured it with a paddle lock to the hook on the floor.

The guard exited the van, slamming the side door closed.

The van was hot, and Nick could smell the foul smells making him start to gag. Urine, vomit and body odor permeated the air.

With a jerk, the van whipped out of the driveway heading down the highway. Nick decided to be bold.

"Where are we going?" Nick could see the driver's face in the rearview mirror that hung on the visor.

The driver didn't look up.

Thinking that the man didn't hear him the first time, Nick asked a second time. "Where are we going?"

Again, no answer, the driver didn't look up. Nick knew the man heard him, he just refused to acknowledge him.

Nick looked out the window of the van, watching the Florida landscape slip past him. People in their cars buzzing past them, everyone lost in their everyday world. Nick once again wondered how Brian was.

Nick was led into a tiny court room, with wooden benches and paneled walls. A portrait of Bill Clinton was on the wall behind the judge with the United States flag on the right side and the Florida state flag on the left.

A young, black, female clerk was sitting off to one side with a typing type machine. Glancing around the room, Nick felt relieved when he saw the face of his attorney standing over at a table by the judge's bench.

The policeman guided Nick to the table where his attorney was at and pushed him down on his left shoulder to force him to sit.

"State of Florida versus Carter, docket number F-L 00-367592436," the judge rattled off the information based on the paper he held in front of him.

The attorney stood up and nodded at Nick to follow his lead. He leaned over and whispered in his ear to just remain quiet and let him speak for him.

Nick felt his stomach bunch up in knots. This was the worst feeling he had ever had in his life. Performing in front of 30,000 screaming girls was a piece of cake compared to what he was facing at this very moment.

"Mr. Carter, you have been informed of the charges against you?" The judge peered down at Nick over the top of his wire-rimmed glasses.

Nick's attorney spoke up. "Yes, your honor, he has."

"Is there anything you would like to say upon your behalf before I impose bail?"

"Yes, your honor. Nick Carter is a very well known celebrity. Based on his status in the entertaiment field and based on his good clean record, I plead that you take this into consideration and impose the lowest possible bail and to have Mr. Carter released on personal recognisance bond," the attorney spoke in a slow, calculated, precise manner.

"Thank you," the judge replied as he shuffled the papers on his desk. "Due to the severity of the charges against Mr. Carter, I feel it is my obligation to deny bail. The prisioner is to be remanded to jail until his trial is started. Trial date is set for Monday, September 11, 2000."

Nick felt as if a blow to his stomach had been delivered and knocked the air out of him. He stared at the wall, afraid to look at anyone or anything, fearing the tears that were stinging his eyes would spill over.

September 11th was over four months away. He couldn't possibly sit in jail for four months!

Nick was led from the court room to a smaller room off to the side. It was his attorney, a guard and himself in the room. The attorney pulled a pack of cigarettes out.

"Smoke?"

Nick shook his head no. He knew his hands were shaking, he pulled them down onto his lap. The guard immediately yelled for Nick to place his hands back up onto the table.

"Nick, I need you to tell me everything you know about what happened, from the beginning, okay?"

Taking a deep breath, Nick nodded.

*~*~*~*

"Kev? You around?" AJ poked his head into the bedroom where Brian had spent a majority of his time recovering.

Kevin poked his head out of the walk-in closet door. "Yeah, come on in."

AJ was carrying a white pharmacy bag. "I got those meds Brian's doctor ordered, plus something new for him."

Brian's eyes widened when he heard what AJ was describing.

"Got a snag in the situation there though, Nick was the only one that knew how to give these to Brian, unless you want to give it a go," AJ remarked, his low.

"Not me, I hate needles," Kevin replied, walking out with clothes, evidentally for Brian.

Brian was getting a little annoyed at how AJ and Kevin talked about him as if he weren't in the same room. Taking a deep breath in, Brian yelled, "NO!"

AJ whipped around and faced Brian, sitting propped up in the bed. "Whoa, a little attitude in the a.m."

"NO. NO. NO. NO-O-O-O-O-O!" Brian shouted as if his life depended on it.

Kevin frowned at his cousin's instance on something. "No what, Brian?"

Okay, this is where I always mess up, come on, Littrell, you gotta do this and let it be known, Brian coached himself.

He licked his lips, "No........m-medsss."

Oh my god, I did it! I did it! Brian thought, pleased with being able add another word to his vocabulary.

Kevin and AJ stared at Brian.

"No meds? Don't you want to get better, Brian?" Kevin was puzzled at Brian's reaction to medication.

Brian shook his head "yes." "NO MEDS," he shouted.

"Okay, so it's no meds for Brian. I'll put these up ontop of the fridge in case he changes his mind," AJ stated as he turned to leave the room.

As AJ was returning to the bedroom, the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it!" AJ called out.

A man dressed in a dark navy suit and a young woman stood on the porch. The man wasted no time in offering his hand out towards AJ.

"Preston Walker, Mr. Carter's attorney and this is Sara Fox, legal medical advisor."

AJ shook the man's hand and nodded slightly at the woman. "Um, yeah, come in." AJ stood back from the door, allow them to enter the house. "Um, Kevin, need you out here."

Kevin was in the middle of putting a shirt on Brian. "Could you hold on a minute, I'm a little busy here."

"Um, hurry!" AJ was feeling a bit nervous around legal people.

Exasperated, Kevin pulled the shirt over Brian's head quickly and rushed Brian's arms through the sleeves. "I'll be back in a minute, okay?"

Kevin walked out into the living room to find the man and woman standing next to AJ. "Yes?"

"Preston Walker, Mr. Carter's attorney," the man offered his hand to Kevin.

"Oh yeah, you called yesterday, I'm sorry," Kevin remarked as he shook the man's hand.

"Someone want to fill me in on this?" AJ asked, feeling excluded.

"Oh, sorry AJ. These people are going to investigate to get Nick off on the charges," Kevin replied.

"Ok, is Mr. Littrell here?" The attorney asked.

"Yeah, I was just finishing getting him dressed. He's laying in bed, give me a minute and I'll bring him out," Kevin stated, matter-of-factly.

"If he's decent, I would like to do some of the medical assesment with Mr. Littrell laying down, if that's okay?" The young woman asked Kevin.

"Sure, follow me."

Kevin led them into the bedroom where Brian lay. After the formalities were exchanged again, the legal medical accessor went about her chore of listening to Brian's heart, lungs, checking reflexes, feeling his stomach and neck. She took a few vials out of her bag and a syringe and latex gloves.

Brian's eyes widened when he saw the syringe.

"I'm sorry, I'm just going to draw some blood from you. We need to run some toxiology tests on you, to determine where you are and to see if your liver has been damaged from the mercury poisioning." She could tell that Brian was still ill at ease. "Relax, this is to help Nick, not to hurt him."

Those were the only words Brian needed to hear. He would do anything in the world for his friend, anything they asked of him.

"Brian's starting to talk more now too," Kevin remarked to the attorney and the medical accessor.

"Talk, how?" The woman asked, curious.

"AJ brought some medications back from the hospital pharmacy including a new drug that Dr. Johnson wanted Brian started up on and Brian said no meds," Kevin mentioned, innocently.

When he said new drug, both the attorney and the woman looked at each other.

"Do you still have the meds with you?" The woman asked.

"Yeah, I'll go get them," AJ replied.

The woman scribbled down information on a chart.

"Brian, can I ask you yes or no questions?" She looked up, waiting for Brian's response.

Brian slowly said the word, "Yes."

"Here, here's the meds," AJ handed the white paper sack to the woman.

Opening the bag she pulled out one vial of each of the three medications that had been prescribed for Brian. She looked the labels over and handed the bag to the attorney.

"Preston, I think we have a good case going," the woman replied with a slight smile.

*~*~*~*~

At a long table in the jailhouse laundry room, Nick stood folding grey cotton towels. That was his "job" every day, for 5 hours he did nothing but stand in one spot and fold towels that got dumped on the table, hot from the large metal dryers in the room.

Sweat poured off his face and down his back, more than what he ever had performing a two hour show could do. The room was like a hot oven, the temperatures was always above 90 degrees. The worse part of the whole situation was that they were limited to only two showers a week, just two, one on Tuesday and one on Friday.

Nick missed that more than anything, showering before going to sleep. That is if he ever did sleep. He spent most of his night hours writing, drawing, crying anything but sleeping. He sometimes managed to catch an hour or two before the lights came on at 5:30 am and the whole monotonous day began again.

The trustee that Nick knew as Joe approached him. "Nick, you have to come with me, you have a visitor."

Nick stopped folding. His mind started racing with thoughts about who the visitor could be. He quietly followed Joe down the hall towards the first room before being allowed into the phone room.

Standing with his arms extended off to the sides, Nick waited patiently for the guard to do the body search before he could be allowed into the room. Once the guard was satisfied, he pressed the buzzer which allowed the adjoining room door to swing slowly open.

The guard standing next to the door told Nick he was to sit in booth number three. Nick walked up to the empty booth and sat down on the hard stool and waited.

Nick looked down at the dirty counter in front of him. He figured this was going to be another boring meeting with his attorney, telling him he was still working on getting him out, telling him he was still gathering more information.

This had been going on for almost three months and the attorney kept promising him that they were getting closer, but that was all he had been able to tell Nick, nothing more.

Nick could see from the reflection on the countertop that someone had finally taken a seat on the other side of the thick glass window. He slowly raised his head to acknowledge the visitor.

Looking back at Nick through the smudged glass, Kevin Richardson's mouth dropped open. Nick didn't look like the Nick that had left him three months ago. His eyes had dark circles under them, the once blonde hair was now a dark brown, down past his ears and greasy. He also looked like he had easily lost twenty pounds. He looked like his whole essence was beaten down. Like he was a shell of the person he used to be.

Nick blinked away the tears that stung his eyes. His jaw set, he tried desparately to control his emotions. He placed his hand on the glass, Kevin reciprocated the movement and placed his hand on the other side of the thick glass...the closest either could come to contact.

They both picked up the communication phones.

"How's Brian?" Nick asked quietly, he had to repeat the question, clearing his hoarse voice.

"Brian's doing better. He's talking now and the therapists are working with him to regain strength in his arms and legs," Kevin replied. "How are you?"

Nick sighed. He wanted to tell him that he was losing his will to live through this mess, but he smiled faintly. "I'm okay."

"Nick, they are going to get you out of this, you know that?" Kevin spoke, his voice thick with emotion.

"Yeah, I know you're trying," Nick replied.

They sat there for a few moments, just staring at one another. Nick didn't have anything to offer in conversation, there was nothing in his day to day exsistence that would give him anything to talk about.

Desperate for any sort of conversation, Kevin wracked his brain for something to tell Nick. The only things he could think of were things that Nick certainly didn't need to hear: a replacement being considered for Nick, the breakup of the group.

"AJ and Howie said hi," Kevin forced a smile.

Nick nodded his acknowledgement. "Tell them I said hi back."

The guard standing by the door announced to Nick that he had three minutes left.

"Nick, is there anything you need? Anything I can do for you?" Kevin spat out quickly, feeling the pressure of limited time.

Nick sadly shook his head. There were a million things he needed and wanted but the only real true thing Nick wanted was to know that Brian was okay. That was all he needed, not freedom, nothing, just to know that Brian was okay.

"Are you sure? Come on, there has to be something man," Kevin pleaded with Nick, he could tell by his face that he wasn't answering.

"Well, um, yeah there is," Nick started out, embarrassed.

Kevin leaned forward, anxious to find out and anxious to deliver.

"I'm out of soap and shampoo and it will take me another few months to build up the money to buy it, I get paid five cents a day and it cost more than what I have," Nick akwardly explained.

"Tell me what to do and I will do it," Kevin replied.

"Time to go, Carter," the guard gruffly announced.

"Bye Kev, tell Brian to get better," Nick said quickly and hung his phone up.

"Wait! Nick!" Kevin shouted out in vain. Nick was already gone, led away by the guard.

As he was being led away, Nick bit his lower lip, trying to fight off the tears that stung his eyes. He didn't want to leave Kevin, there were so many things he wanted to ask him, so many things he wanted to say.

Nick stood in the new room with his arms extended, waiting for the guard to finish his job of doing the body search on him before he could go back to the laundry room. Once the guard was finished, he stood and waited for the trustee to come back to escort him to the laundry room. The humiliation Nick felt was beyond words.

Kevin reluctantly left the vistors room. He was angry to think that he was allowed only ten minutes with Nick. It was unfair, Nick had been convicted and sentanced literally before he had even gone to trial. He could tell that Nick was scared of them, the way he acted when they told him it was time to go, that was not the rebellious Nick Kevin knew.

Kevin prayed that this whole nightmare would end soon. Nick's attorney promised that he was close to tying up the loose ends. Kevin couldn't see anything happening at all. All he could see that Nick was slowly slipping away from them, slowly blending into the prision system.

Stopping at the front desk on his way out, Kevin inquired about leaving money for Nick.

The clerk pulled out a file box and thumbed through the cards until she pulled one out that had Nick's last name and ID number stamped on it. "Inmates are only allowed ten dollars on the account," she stated with a business-like tone.

Kevin reluctantly laid a ten dollar bill on the desk. The woman wrote the amount on Nick's card and gave Kevin a yellow receipt.

"What do they use the money for?" Kevin asked.

"Oh, lots of things but mainly cigarettes, things like that. We keep records of all the inmates purchases," she looked Nick's card over while she was talking and turned it over reading the back. "He usually buys cigarettes, sodas and candy, typical things."

"Cigarettes? Nick doesn't smoke, why would he buy cigarettes?" Kevin questioned her.

"It gets boring in the cells, I'm sure there are worse habits to form," the woman replied as she stuffed Nick's card back in the filebox.

Instead of going back to the laundry room, Nick was diverted to the yard, it was time for their hour long break. He got so he looked forward to going outside, it was a temporary escape from the stale smelling jail.

The sun was bright and Nick managed to find a spot to sit along the gates, soaking up the sunshine. He looked up when he heard heavy footsteps approaching him. His heart sank when he saw Devon leering over him.

"So pretty boy, you got it yet?" the muscular black man asked impatiently.

Nick looked up at Devon, squinting to block out the glare of the sun. "Um, I think I'll be able to get it for you this afternoon, I had a visitor and I think he left me some money on my account, I dunno if he did or didn't," Nick replied.

"Better hope so bitch, I need my cigarettes and I hate to mess up that face of yours," Devon spat out, turning away.

Nick watched as Devon and his inner circle of friends banged each others closed fists. Nick had been using his account money to buy off Devon, making sure he was kept with his supply of cigarettes. He didn't want trouble and Devon was sure to give it to him if he didn't cooperate. Nick had already been on the receiving ends of Devon's hard hits to his stomach, he didn't need any more trouble from him.

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 said as he 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 raced 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. Sitting on 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 murder 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.

Once the jury was back in the courtroom, the judge entered, forcing everyone in the room to stand until they were told to be seated.

"Prosecution, do you have your next witness?" Judge Marks asked as he was looking at papers.

"Yes, your Honor, prosecution calls Doctor Karen Johnson to the stand," the attorney stated.

Nick's eyes narrowed as he watched Dr. Johnson approach the witness stand. She seemed to act overly confident, dressed in a dark blue business suit, her long brown hair pulled back neatly into a bun. This was not the doctor that Nick had grown accustomed to seeing when she came out to his house to look after Brian.

"Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help you God?" the bailiff asked the doctor as she placed her right hand on the Bible.

"I do," Dr. Johnson replied.

"Please be seated," the judge ordered.

The prosecuting attorney approached the stand. "For the record, please state your full, legal name."

"Karen Elizabeth Johnson."

"And where are you employed?"

"Tampa Bay Hospital."

"And what do you do in your capacity at the hospital?"

"I am a doctor in the emergency room."

"Okay, could you recall for the court, the events that took place on April 22, 2000?"

"I was working my scheduled shift in the emergency room when they brought in a patient that was involved in a solo MVA," Dr. Johnson stated matter-of-factly.

"MVA?"

"Motor Vehicle Accident."

"And was there anything unusual about this particular patient that you recall?"

"He was awake but unresponsive, my first impression was a head injury, so I immediately ordered cat scans of the brain," Dr. Johnson recounted the events of that night. "The results were positive and the patient had a five centimeter bleed on the brain. I immediately ordered MSR in an IV drip, which is to prevent swelling on the brain and Solmederol injected into the port on the IV, which would hit the bloodstream quicker."

"How did the patient respond to this?"

"Not as I had anticipated. The patient deteriorated and was in a semi-vegetative state. He remained at Tampa for approximately three weeks and was transferred to a nursing home facility for around the clock care."

"What was this patient's name?"

"Brian Littrell."

"And how did he do while he was in the nursing home facility?"

"He remained stable, no significant changes."

Nick sat listening to her tell her side of the story. Although she didn't lie about anything, she didn't give them all the details that would help clear him of any wrong doing.

"It wasn't until he was released into the care of his friend that his condition seemed to deteriorate," Dr. Johnson stated.

Nick felt the attorney's hand on his shoulder as he leaned forward in his seat. He wanted to yell out that she was lying, it took all Nick had in him to remain calm and quiet.

"Would you be able to identify this friend of Mr. Littrell's?"

"Yes I would."

"Is this friend here in the courtroom?"

"Yes."

"Please point to this person."

Dr. Johnson pointed her finger directly at Nick.

"Let the records show that Dr. Johnson pointed at the defendant, Nickolas Carter. No further questions."

The judge wrote some notes on a paper and then looked over at the table where Nick and his attorneys were sitting. "Defense, any questions?"

Nick's attorney stood up, buttoning his jacket as he approached Dr. Johnson.

"Dr. Johnson, you are a medical doctor, correct?"

"Yes."

"Did you minor in chemistry?"

"Yes."

"So you know how to mix medications--"

"OBJECTION," the prosecuting attorney cried out.

"Overruled, answer the question," the judge replied.

"Yes I know how medications interact," Dr. Johnson replied.

"That wasn't what I asked you. Do you know how to mix medications?"

"I am not a pharmacist."

After twenty minutes of questioning, the attorney gave up, this doctor was well rehearsed and was not going to give anything away.

"Prosecution, do you have anymore witnesses?"

"Yes, we call Brian Littrell to the stand," the prosecuting attorney stated.

Nick felt his breath catch when they said Brian's name. He hadn't seen him since he was arrested almost five months ago. All Nick could see of Brian was his back as he walked up to the witness stand. Although he looked like the same old Brian, Nick noticed that he had a slight limp when he walked.

Brian took the stand and looked directly over at Nick. He was told to be prepared for what Nick's appearance would be like, but he still was shocked to see how pale and thin he was. In spite of this, Brian managed to smile slightly at Nick.

After the bailiff did the standard swearing in, the prosecuting attorney declared that Brian was a hostile witness, meaning that he was on the stand for the prosecution under protest and would be a difficult witness for them to question.

"Please state your full name for the records," the attorney drilled.

"Brian Thomas Littrell," Brian quietly replied.

"Please speak up," the attorney barked.

Brian cleared his throat. "Brian Thomas Littrell."

"Brian, could you please tell us of the events on April 22, 2000?"

"I was at a promotional party and suddenly felt tired and told my friends that I was going home," Brian replied.

"Was Nickolas Carter at this party?"

"Ojection, irrelavent!" Nick's attorney called out.

"Overruled, answer the question," the judge replied.

"Yes," Brian stated.

"Okay, proceed with the details of that night."

"I left the party and got into my jeep and the next thing I can recall is being in the ambulance and not being able to speak or move," Brian stated.

"Did Nick Carter at anytime supply you with drinks or food at this party?"

"OBJECTION! LEADING THE WITNESS!"

"Sustained, jury is requested to disregard that question," the judge said as he wrote something on a piece of paper.

"Okay, you ended up being in the care of Nick Carter?"

"Yes."

"And during the course of his care, he learned how to give you injections of medications that were prescribed by Dr. Johnson?"

Brian licked his lips, his mouth was getting dry because of being nervous about the questioning.

"Yes."

"No further questions."

Brian was relieved to hear the attorney say he was done with him.

Nick's attorney wasted no time in questioning Brian. He approached the stand, smiling.

"Good afternoon, Brian."

"Good afternoon."

"Brian, during the whole course of your illness, you said you couldn't move or talk, correct?"

"Yes sir, that's correct."

"Could you feel pain during this?"

"Yes sir, I could."

"Could you think clearly or reason during this?"

"I felt I could."

"After Nick injected you with the medications did you feel different?"

"OBJECTION! LEADING THE WITNESS!"

"Sustained."

"Okay, how did you feel when you received the medications from Dr. Johnson?"

"I would black out, I still couldn't move or speak."

"How did you feel when you received the medications from Nick?"

"The same, no difference."

"Was there at any point that you felt as if you were recovering?"

"Yes. When the visiting nurse skipped my medications, I was able to move my arms and turn my head."

"Is this the same nurse that injected your missed medications into his body?"

"Yes, he took two days worth of meds at one time."

"And you are now able to move about and speak freely."

"Yes sir."

"What do you attribute your recovery to?"

"The medications being stopped."

"No further questions."

"Prosecution?" The judge checked to see if they wanted to counter cross-examine Brian. The team of attorneys at that table whispered among themselves for a minute and then told the judge they had nothing further to ask at that time.

"You may step down."

Brian left the stand, wanting to go over to Nick and wrap him up in a hug. He walked between the tables and was escorted out into the hall.

The prosecuting attorney stood up. "Your honor, the prosecution rests."

Nick's attorney leaned over and whispered to Nick that this meant that the case was now being turned over to the defense.

"Court is being recessed until tomorrow morning, nine a.m.," the judge said as he stood up from his seat. He left the room quickly, taking the door off to the side of the courtroom.

Nick sat back down after the judge left the room. He patiently waited for the jury to file out. Moments after the jury left, the guard from the jail approached Nick with the handcuffs and shackels and proceeded to place them on him.

Nick kept his eyes focused to the floor, he could feel the stares on his back. His parents were still in the courtroom and he knew that his mother was seeing her son being chained up like an animal.

Once the chains were in place, the attorney gave Nick a folder to carry back to the jail with him. The guard led Nick out of the courtroom, past the spectators.

Brian felt ill when he saw Nick walking down the hallway, the chains making clanking noises with each step he took. This was not fair, Nick was being made to suffer for something he didn't do and Brian felt helpless. He wanted to let Nick know that everything was okay and that this would be overwith soon, but Nick didn't allow anyone to make eye contact with him as he was being led out to the van to take him back to jail.

Brian decided he was going to go against any advice and he was going to head out to the jail to visit Nick. He turned and walked in the opposite direction that Nick was being led. Pulling his keys out of his front pocket, Brian walked out of the courthouse, past the media that was camped outside the doors, and walked into the parking lot towards his car.

*~*~*~*

Nick sat quietly in his cell after his return from the courthouse. He put his head in his hands and slowly rocked back and forth. It seemed to be the only way Nick could comfort and console himself, fend off the terrible feelings of dread he had about the trial. Nick felt that everyone was against him in this and that he would be sentenced to life in prison for a crime he didn't commit.

"Carter! You have a visitor," a guard barked at Nick from the doorway.

Nick jumped up and walked in the center of the hallway in front of the guard. After going through processing, he walked into the visiting rooms and was told to sit in booth number seven.

As Nick sat down, he placed his hands on the the dirt stained coutertop and waited for his visitor to show. Catching the shadow of someone entering the other side of the booth, Nick glanced up at the smudged, thick window to acknowledge the person.

His hand immediately went up to the glass. Brian pressed his hand on the other side. His smile was the best thing Nick had seen in months. Nick was not ashamed to let the tears flow down his cheeks and it was evident that Brian felt the same way about his own tears. He picked up the receiver and Brian did the same.

"How are you doing? I missed you so much. Is Kevin still taking care of you? How are----"

"Whoa, Nick, slow it down!" Brian laughed quietly into the receiver at Nick's rapid fire questioning.

"I'm sorry, I just missed you so much, Bri. I think and worry about you constantly," Nick replied.

"Same here Nicky," Brian said. "I want to know how you're doing." Brian asked as he studied Nick's face.

Nick's eyes had dark circles under them and his blue eyes looked dull and empty.

"I'm hanging in there, it's hard, but I think I'm doing it okay," Nick said quietly. "How did you manage to get in here anyway? I thought it was forbidden during the trial?"

"There wasn't any court order saying I couldn't come and see you, it's all been verbal. I got sick of them telling me what I can and cannot do, so here I am," Brian replied, smiling.

Nick smiled back. "I'm glad you didn't listen to them." Nick's smiled suddenly faded. "Brian, god, I'm so scared about tomorrow, I mean tomorrow is when they try to defend me."

"Nick, don't worry! You have an excellent attorney and besides, you didn't do anything wrong and the jury will find that out," Brian tried to reassure Nick.

"Five more minutes, Carter!" the guard said as he walked behind Nick.

"Nick is there anything you need? Anything I can get you at all?" Brian asked anxiously.

Nick shook his head. "No, I'm fine."

"Are you sure? Kevin told me about the cigarettes," Brian replied.

Nick's eyes flashed. "How the hell did he find out about those?"

"It doesn't matter. You're not smoking, are you?" Brian quizzed.

Nick shook his head. "No, god that would be awful."

"Then why?" Brian asked.

Nick's eyes darted right and left, quickly. "I need it for protection," he stated quietly.

"Oh, Nick," Brian said sadly. "It's gonna be over soon, I promise you."

"Time's up, Carter, let's go!" the guard barked.

Nick stood up, quickly. "I hope you're right, Brian. Thanks for coming, bye."

Nick turned and left, quickly. Brian just stared after him, shocked to see how obedient he was for something he despised. The old Nick would have done whatever he could to drag the time out. Whatever had happened to him in here has affected him.

*~*~*~*~*

"Your honor, the defense would like to call their first witness, Kevin Richardson," Nick's attorney stated.

Nick sat quietly at the table, his hands folded neatly ontop. A legal pad with a pen sat next to his hands, waiting for Nick to use if he had a question for his attorney. Nick had used it only once, but it was to draw when they had a five minute recess and he had to stay put.

Kevin nervously took the stand and sat down after being sworn in.

"Okay, Mr. Richardson, you've known the defendant, how long?"

Kevin looked over at Nick and smiled slightly. "I've known Nick for over seven years."

"How long have you known Brian Littrell?"

"All of his life, we're cousins," Kevin stated.

The attorney nodded. "What kind of relationship do you think Nick and Brian have?"

"A very good one. They had their disagreements, like everyone does, but those two are very close, almost telepathic, knowing what the other is thinking," Kevin replied.

"How did Nick react to Brian's accident?"

"Nick was totally devestated. He wanted to do whatever he could to help Brian through this," Kevin stated.

"How did Nick react to Dr. Johnson's diagnosis that Brian would never recover from his injuries?"

"He denied it. He wanted to take Brian home with him and nurse him back to health. Nick firmly believed that he could bring Brian out of this," Kevin recalled.

"You guys sing together in a band, right?"

Kevin smiled slightly, looking at Nick. "Yes."

"How did Nick react to Brian's being replaced in the group?"

"Shock, anger, confusion," Kevin replied.

"Ironically, you replaced Brian with Dr. Karen Johnson's brother, Nathan Roth, correct?"

"Yessir."

"How did you ever come across Nathan?"

"Dr. Johnson recommended her brother to me."

"Kevin, do you recall when Dr. Johnson recommended her brother?"

Kevin thought for a moment. "She gave me a business card after she told us that Brian should be placed in a nursing home. At the time, I was so numb about the diagnosis, I didn't think anything about it."

"So did Nick and Nathan get along?"

Kevin laughed nervously. "Get along? No, I wouldn't say that they did. Nick did everything to get away from Nathan. He has never gave this kid the time of day."

"Thank you," Nick's attorney smiled at Kevin and walked back to the table where Nick was sitting and sat down.

"Prosecution, would you like to cross this witness?" The judge asked.

"Mr. Richardson, would you say that Nick has an expolsive temper?"

"OBJECTION! IRRELEVANT!"

"Overruled, answer the question," the judge replied, looking at Kevin.

"Explosive?" Kevin questioned.

"Does Nick fly off the handle?"

"OBJECTION! LEADING THE WITNESS!"

"Overruled, answer the question."

"Yes Nick gets angry, we all get angry, don't we?" Kevin reasoned.

"That's not how I asked it, simple yes or no," the attorney snapped at Kevin.

"Yes."

"No further questions."

"You may step down," the judge told Kevin.

Nick's attorney was stalling for time. He called every possible witness, including Nick's cleaning woman to the stand. The results of the bloodwork drawn from Brian and the drug screen was taking too much time.

The attorney had no other choice left.

"Your honor, the defense calls Nickolas Carter to the stand."

There was hushed whispers coming from the spectators in the courtroom. Nick quietly took the stand, keeping his eyes focused on only his attorney, not daring to look at the jury or the crowd, especially his parents.

"Nick, what kind of a friend is Brian Littrell?"

"He's the best friend a person would ever want to have," Nick replied quietly.

"What kind of qualities would you describe Brian as having?"

Nick thought for a moment before answering. "Um, he's kind, loyal, caring, dedicated. He would give a stranger the shirt off his back to help them."

"What would you do for Brian?"

"I would give my life for him," Nick replied without hesitation.

"Okay, Nick. Can you recall how Brian was from the hospital to the nursing home and then finally when he was cared by you in your home?"

"Yes. Brian was in a semi-coma all during his stay in the hospital. Dr. Johnson suggested he be placed in a nursing home because of his needs and that he needed medication prescribed by her around the clock. Brian never seemed to be getting better, but he never seemed to be getting worse. He appeared to be coming out of the coma while he was at the nursing home, starting to turn his head and move but then Dr. Johnson gave him some new medication and Brian slipped back. I was finally figuring out that the medications were hurting him and not helping him when I got arrested."

"You were giving Brian the medications, correct?"

"Yes."

"How did you get the medications?"

"They were delivered from Dr. Johnson, personally with instructions that they had to be given consistantly."

Nick's attorney finished quizzing him and then it was time for the prosecuting attorney's turn with Nick.

"You were always jealous of Brian, weren't you?" The prosecuting attorney hissed.

"No! That's not true!" Nick protested.

"Teen People Magazine, November 1999 issue and I quote, 'Brian always has a way with the fans. Luck seems to follow him where ever he goes. Life is easy for him, always has been, always will be. Yeah, you could say I'm jealous.' The name next to the quote, Nick Carter. You said this?"

"Probably."

"It has your name next the quote," the attorney argued.

"Then yeah, I said it," Nick admitted.

"National Enquirer, February 18, 2000 issue and I quote here: 'Brian is running on borrowed time. I will have the fans to myself soon enough.' It was taken from an article entitled, Nick and Brian, BSB gone bad. So according to this article, you were planning something for Brian."

"I never said that, that isn't legitimate!" Nick argued.

"But it's here in black and white, Brian is running on borrowed time. I will have the fans to myself soon enough."

"IT'S NOT TRUE!" Nick shouted at the attorney.

The judge slammed the gavel down on the desk. "Mr. Carter, one more outburst and you will be removed from your own trial!"

"I have no further questions for this witness, your honor."

"You may step down," the judge motioned to Nick.

"Your honor, I would like to request a recess," Nick's attorney asked as he stood up.

"For what reason?" The judge asked.

"I have evidence I wish to submit to the court, it would be beneficial to my client, however it is still tied up in the labs and I need to get it to present it," the attorney pleaded.

The judge flipped a calendar. "Court is declared in recess. We will reconvene on Monday, September 25, 9 am."

As the judge stood up to leave, the courtroom rose.

Nick could feel depression eating away at him. Monday the 25th meant he had to spend another weekend in jail. More days.

"Why couldn't we come back on Friday?" Nick asked.

"Nick, I will be honest with you. We're lucky he gave us the extra day. We may need it. The labs are your only hope in freedom. It doesn't look good at this point without them. I've tried to defend you, but this has been difficult. Without the lab results, you have no chance in hell.

Upon hearing that, Nick collapsed.

*~*~*~*~

Nick woke up in the jail infirmary. He went to put his left hand to his head, but was stopped by the hand cuff that was attached to his wrist and then attached to the bed rail. He discovered the same was for his left ankle.

Looking around the room, he noticed a guard was sitting in a chair by the door and three of the four beds in the infirmary were occupied as well.

The nurse came over to the bed and put a thermometer into his ear.

"What happened?" Nick questioned her. He remembered being in the courtroom but nothing after that.

"You fainted and hit your head pretty hard. You have a concussion," the middle aged, overweight nurse replied.

Nick closed his eyes trying to recall what had happened. It was all a blank to him.

A lunch tray was brought in and set on the table that was beside Nick's bed. The nurse went about getting the tray moved towards Nick and setting the bed into a better position. Nick didn't really feel hungry, he felt sick to his stomach.

"You have to eat, I'm sure you'll want to," the nurse stated as if she could read Nick's thoughts. She uncovered the plate and Nick was pleasantly suprised to see something other than a grilled peanut butter and jelly sandwich. "Yes, they actually feed you in the infirmary. Why do you think the inmates try to fake illnesses? It certainly isn't to come and see me," she replied smugly and walked away to the next bed to help that inmate.

Picking up the plastic spoon, Nick hungrily shoveled the macaroni and cheese into his mouth. To him this was like heaven on earth. He hated green beans, but today it was something like a taste treat and the sliced canned peaches were something out of a four star restaurant.

When he finished with lunch, Nick felt sleepy. He closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep, hoping to wake up and find that it was time to return to court or better yet, find himself in his own bed at home and all of this had been a bad dream.

*~*~*~*

"Carter! Carter! You're well enough to go back to your duties, get up!"

Nick was startled out of a sound sleep by the guard hovering over him. He was uncuffed from the hospital bed and led back to the laundry room. Nick reluctantly took his post back at the folding table and set about the sweatty, tedious job of folding all of the white towels.

He glanced up at the clock on the wall. It was 6:21 in the morning. He had his breakfast at 5 a.m. in the infirmary and drifted back to sleep, enjoying the peacefulness. Nick wondered if they would allow any time for him to get showered and dressed for court. He had no contact with his attorney since he last Thursday. Nick prayed that this would be a good sign that they had the evidence they needed to get him off this charge.

The sweat poured off Nick's face as another basketful of towels were dumped on the table. Not stopping, Nick reached in and grabbed another towel.

*~*~*~*

Brian paced nervously in the lobby of the court house. As the time came closer for Nick to be arriving, Brian felt his stomach go into knots. He sat down on the padded bench that jutted out from the wall. Brian leaned forward and put his head in his hands.

"Brian, relax, everything will work out fine," Kevin reassured as he sat next to his cousin.

Brian looked at Kevin, his eyes moist with the tears that were threatening to spill over at any minute.

"I can't Kev, Nick's in trouble and it's all my fault, my damn fault..." Brian's voice trailed off.

"No, it's not your fault, not yours, not Nick's, it's the system's fault. Nick should have never been arrested in the first place, it took the word of a doctor over practical evidence and Nick's attorney will prove it, just put your faith in it, Brian, it will happen," Kevin softly commented.

Brian shook his head, the tears splashing down his cheeks. Kevin put his arm around Brian's shoulders. "It's time to go into the courtroom, did you want to go in?"

Nodding yes, Brian replied, "Nick needs our support."

Brian and Kevin took their seats directly behind Nick's parents. They exchanged smiles with the Carter's. The clanking noise of chains caused both parties to stop smiling as they knew this signaled Nick's arrival in the courtroom.

As Nick was being led to his chair, he cast a wary glance over towards his parents and Kevin and Brian. Nick could see that his mother and Brian's eyes were red and puffy looking, indicating that they had been crying.

Once he was unchained, Nick sat down and placed his folded hands ontop of the table and waited for his attorney.

The prosecuting attorneys entered the courtroom, looking happy and exchanging comments to one another and laughed as they talked amongst themselves. Brian was irritated witnessing their crass behavior. He found it hard to understand why they were acting like this was an everyday thing destorying a man's life for something he didn't do. It took all Brian had within himself to remain quiet and not yell at them.

Nick was beginning to get nervous that his attorney hadn't shown up yet. He was starting to doubt himself, thinking that maybe his attorney decided that there was no chance in hell of saving him so he just bailed out of the case.

The attorney rushed up to the table and sat down next to Nick. He leaned over and whispered, "Sorry I'm running behind, I was trying to get the labs wrapped up."

"That means you have them?" Nick asked.

"Unfortunately, no, there was a problem in the lab over the weekend. Something unexplainable and they lost Brian's bloodwork," the attorney sighed.

Nick's face turned ashen. "Lost it? What do you mean lost it?"

The attorney patted Nick on the shoulder. "Don't worry, I will ask for another recess."

Nick's eyes filled with tears. He felt as if all was lost. His attorney had to help him up onto his feet when the judge entered the courtroom.

"Is the defense ready for it's next witness?" the judge asked as he sipped on his glass of water.

"Your honor, I was prepared to submit as evidence, Brian Littrell's bloodwork which would indicate the variance of chemical levels in his bloodstream including the lethal toxins that had been injected into his body. Something unexplainable happened in the lab over the weekend and Mr. Littrell's bloodwork was lost. I need to have more blood drawn again and try to get the labs completed again quickly. I request a recess until this evidence is gathered."

The judge shook his head as his listened to Nick's attorney plead his case.

"Request is denied," the judge growled.

Nick felt as if he couldn't breathe and that the room was closing in on him. In the course of two hours time, the prosecuting attorney and his own attorney made their closing remarks. The case was now handed over to the jury for their decision of guilt or innocence.

Nick was escorted into the small waiting cell while the jury deliberated on his fate. After five hours had passed, the jury was dismissed and Nick was being readied to be sent back to the jail. His attorney managed to come into the room to talk to Nick a few minutes before he was led back to the van.

"Nick, I know this doesn't look very good at this point to you, but you have to believe and trust in the system, they will see your innocence."

"I had trusted the system one time, but I really don't think it's gonna come through for me now," Nick whispered quietly.

Nick stared out the window of the van on his trip back to the jail. He silently prayed for an accident, something to happen that would end this misery and the hurt he was feeling. Death seemed more like the answer now, not an option.

Nick spent the entire night in his cell, he didn't go to dinner and passed on the free time that they got a privledged one hour of television on Monday evenings. He opted to lay on his bed, feeling numb, feeling sick to his stomach.

Someone had come to visit him, but Nick refused the visit, turning the person away before he even saw them. He felt unworthy to be seen by anyone. He just wanted to slip quietly away, he was giving up and he didn't care.

Morning came and Nick mechanically got dressed for court, ignoring the guard watching him shower, shave and finally get dressed. The shackles were in place and Nick walked slowly out to the awaiting van towards the court house.

Again, Nick's attorney helped Nick up to his feet as the judge requested if the jury had made their decision.

The jury foreman, a female in her late twenties spoke.

"Yes, your honor, we have reached a decision. We, the jury, find the defandant, Nickolas Gene Carter, on the charges of murder of Mark Livingston, guilty of manslaughter. On the charges of attempted murder of Brian Littrell, guilty."

Hearing the findings, Nick's knees gave out with the first charge, he didn't hear the rest of it after guilty, everything ran together at that point.

Brian screamed out, "NO!"

The judge slammed the gavel down on the bench repeatidly. "ORDER! ORDER!"

Jane Carter leaned against her husband, burying her face in his shoulder as she sobbed.

Almost as if on cue, a lab technician appeared in the courtroom and rushed up to the table where Nick and his attorney were seated.

"Your honor! I just received this from the labs on Brian Littrell's new blood draw, you would be very interested in seeing this!"

The prosecuting attorney scoffed at the defense grasping for a reversal in the jury's decision.

"Your honor, this attorney is trying to make a mockery of your court!"

"Come forward, I would like to see this evidence," the judge requested as he adjusted his glasses.

The attorney handed a copy of the labwork to the judge and another copy to the prosecuting attorney. The judge reviewed the paper for more than three minutes, taking in every aspect of the lab work.

"Based on this new evidence, I declare this case be dismissed and charges against Nickolas Carter, dropped. I also request a bench warrant on Doctor Karen Johnson and on Nathan Roth," the judge said as he slammed the gavel down. "Case dismissed."

Numb, Nick sat in his chair. He was still not hearing anything that was happening. Suddenly, he felt arms lock around him, wrapping him in a tight hug, something he hadn't felt in months.

"You're free Nick!" Brian cried.

Nick looked up and stared at Brian. "Brian, go back, you'll get in trouble!" Nick quietly reprimanded.

"Nick! Snap out of it, buddy! You are free to go! You are innocent!" Brian smiled.

Nick's eyes shifted quickly, trying to soak up what Brian had just said. "I'm free?"

Through his tears, Brian nodded.

"I'm free," Nick softly stated. He looked at his parent's faces, then Kevin's and then again back at Brian's. Taking in a deep breath, Nick shouted, "I'M FREE!"

The End