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Howie Dorough lay on the gurney with his arms crossed over his chest. He was pissed. He would be fine; he did not need to lie down on a freaking stretcher to be brought to the hospital.

To hell with ambulance policies.

Beside him, Nick Carter was incessantly tapping his foot on the vehicles floor. There was an absent expression on his face and his skin was pale. The paramedic sitting next to him gave him an annoyed look, clearly telling him to stop moving. Howie sighed, they had only been in the ambulance for fifteen minutes and Nick couldn’t sit still.

“Shouldn’t the sirens be on?” Nick asked for the second time.

“This isn’t an emergency,” the woman next to him explained again.

“But you’ve been in an accident for Christ’s sake!” Nick exclaimed as he jumped up, looking at Howie, ignoring the paramedic’s statement, “You deserve sirens!”

Howie shook his head, “You just wanna make a grand entrance, don’t you?”

“You could be bleeding to death!” Nick persisted, turning to the young paramedic, “He could be bleeding to death!”

“I highly doubt that,” Howie muttered, unconsciously pressing a hand to his wounded side nevertheless.

“Fine.” Nick sat back down, shaking his head and watched the ground, his face sullen, “I’m sorry. I’m just… worried, I guess.”

“That’s perfectly understandable, you don’t need to apologize for that,” the woman’s face softened.

“It’s gonna be okay,” Howie said softly.

“No, it’s not,” Nick rolled his eyes, “They cut off his freakin’ leg! I saw them doing it! How can it be okay?”

Howie turned his eyes to the ambulance’s ceiling. “I don’t know,” he mumbled. The world was cruel like that.

He’d never been willing to be a witness to such a horrible operation, but at the same time, he hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off of it. He was quite sure that he would never forget the images of Henry carving into Brian’s discolored skin, just above the knee, in precise, but fast slices with a knife that would haunt him forever. It made him feel sick thinking about it.

Henry had assured them that it had been the school example of a perfect emergency amputation, but that didn’t make the fact that Brian’s leg was gone any less horrible.

“Still can’t believe Kevin told them to do it,” Nick said sourly, a flash of anger burning in his eyes.

“He would have died,” Howie replied softly.

“You don’t know that!” Nick shot back, massaging his leg with a grimace on his face.

“Nick, come on… you know it.”

“Whatever,” Nick mumbled, and Howie could swear the younger singer paled even further, “Can we hurry the hell up? It’s getting cold here.”

“It’s not cold…” Howie trailed, watching his friend with concerned eyes, “Are you feeling okay?”

“F-fine… just p-perfect,” Nick stammered and Howie felt his heart speed up with worry.

“Nick? What’s wrong?” he asked, shooting upright on the stretcher. The paramedic, whose name Howie couldn’t remember, already started hovering over the younger Backstreet Boy.

“I’m fine! J-just… cold,” Nick declared stubbornly, his hand tightening around his leg as a painful expression crossed over his face.

Howie was not convinced.

Then the strangest thing happened. Nick stiffened as a tremor coursed through his body, he grabbed at his chest as he yelled something. Then he keeled over, completely motionless.

“What the hell is happening?” Howie screamed in a high voice, panic immediately taking over at the sight of Nick’s suddenly limp form. The paramedic –Helen, that was her name- felt for a pulse and nodded in relief.

“I’m not sure, it looked most like some sort of episode,” she said, her voice annoyingly calm, “Did he ever have one before?”

“No!” Howie rushed, but then he gasped. He’d almost forgotten how he and Kevin had encountered Nick, lying limply over the steering wheel of the rental car. “I-I.. I don’t think so,” he stammered. For some reason, he couldn’t get his mind off of what Nick had yelled right before he’d toppled over.

Brian, no!

As if waking up from a bad nightmare, Nick suddenly gasped as his eyes flew open, darting wildly around the cabin of the ambulance. He cautiously sat upright again, leaning against the vehicle’s wall. “We there yet?” He rasped.

Howie stared at him, his eyes round in shock, not moving a muscle. He opened his mouth, closed it again and looked at Helen, who seemed just as bewildered.

“What?” Nick asked tiredly.

“Y-… You just passed out, like… thirty seconds ago!” Howie exclaimed, panting from the adrenaline that still coursed through him. “What the hell happened?”

Nick looked at the ground, clearly trying to think of an excuse, then sighed, “I don’t know. I felt cold, my leg hurt and then my chest exploded. What do you want from me?” He asked, stretching his painful leg.

Howie gave him an incredulous look. Nick hadn’t been in the accident. Nick had been at a gas-station, then at a hotel, and eventually ended up in a rental car with Howie and Kevin. He hadn’t been through fire and flames; hadn’t been tossed about in a crashing tour bus; hadn’t spent the majority of the night in a freezing farm field. Yet he had all but passed out right before Howie’s eyes.

There was definitely something incredibly strange in that.

“This isn’t the first time that happened, is it?” Howie demanded, looking straight into his friend’s eyes.

Nick tried to look away, but gave in after just two seconds, “No…” he muttered, “Never felt like this though.”

“What’s happening to you?” Howie asked softly.

Nick shook his head and bit his lip, “I don’t know,” he said, his voice breaking slightly, “It scares the hell out of me.”

“You and me both, how are you feeling?” Howie questioned sternly.

“I’m fine now… really,” he assured as Helen tried to shine a penlight into his eyes.

“He’s right,” Helen mumbled, “There’s no indication something was wrong in the first place. It’s like it never even happened.”

“See?” Nick gave a wavering smile. The ambulance suddenly stopped and Helen stood up, opening the double doors. She pulled at Howie’s stretcher, but he stopped her.

“I can walk,” he said, a little more harshly than he intended. He carefully swung his legs over the edge of the stretcher, experimentally putting his weight on his legs. He swayed for a second before grabbing Nick’s shoulder.

“Yeah, like hell you can,” Nick grumbled, “Get on that thing, you idiot.”

“I’ll be fine,” Howie snapped.

“Yeah, we’re all fine, it’s just one big night of rainbows and unicorns, isn’t it?” Nick hissed, carefully pushing him back on the gurney.

Howie narrowed his eyes, but didn’t protest anymore. He felt the humiliation coloring his face red as they rolled him into the ER. He squeezed his eyes shut, groaning ‘Oh God,’ under his breath as Helen started recalling his vitals.

“Male, 41 years old, involved in a bus accident.”

Howie shook his head slightly as they rushed him through the halls with what he considered a lot of drama.

“Temperature is at 96, Heart rate’s 97. Pulse is strong and steady. BP is a hundred over ninety. Mildly hypothermic. Signs of dehydration and exhaustion. Possible mild concussion. Superficial stabbing wound on the side.”

“Wow, you get quite the list,” Nick whispered as he kept a steady pace beside him. There was no trace of the previous pain in his leg. Like it never had existed.

Howie snorted, “Now this…” he shook his head, “… is so unnecessary.”

“He with the others?” A tall woman with a white coat asked, walking up to them, before grabbing the stretcher and joining the team.

“Are they here already?” Helen asked, turning to look behind her, “Damn, Damien, you drive too slow,” she informed the ambulance driver, who just shrugged.

“Get him to exam room three,” the woman in the lab coat commanded, “Hi, I’m doctor Maria McNally,” she introduced, “Don’t worry, we’ll take good care of you.”

She gave him a warm smile and he smiled back, awkwardly. Then she turned to Nick, “I’m sorry. I’m gonna have to ask you to wait outside while we examine him.”

Nick stared at her for a second before he scoffed, “That sounds dirty.”

“Let him stay,” Howie said, mainly because he didn’t want to lose his friend out of his sight after what happened on the way over. And maybe partly because he didn’t want to be alone.

“Great,” doctor McNally muttered, “Fine, but make sure you don’t get in the way.”

“Are the others okay?” Howie asked.

“Should be,” McNally mumbled, diving an IV needle in his arm, “I think one of them has already been released. He’s in the waiting room.”

“AJ?”

“I don’t know, he has a pretty thick beard and a lot of tattoos.”

“AJ.” Howie and Nick said in unison.

“If you sit still, maybe you can join him in half an hour.”

“What about Brian?” Nick quipped.

“Brian?”

“Yeah, he… they amputated his leg out in the field?”

The doctor’s face tensed, her movements slowing. She pressed a sterile bandage against Howie’s side tightly and he winced. “Ah yes, the amputation,” she mumbled, “I can’t tell you too much about it, they’re still working on him.”

“But…” Howie trailed, frowning, “But… he’ll be okay… right?” At the time, he’d found Nick’s sudden return one big cosmic joke. Maybe the whole night had just been a cosmic joke. Parts of it seemed so surreal, he was sure he’d seen them in a movie, instead of experiencing them first hand. They were the Backstreet Boys, for God’s sake. Together for almost 22 years.

Years of highs and lows, that was true, but they’d always been able to figure out how to deal with things.

The death of a member.

Howie wasn’t sure he could deal with that.

“I’m not his doctor,” McNally sighed, “I can only tell you they’re trying to stabilize him enough for surgery, but it doesn’t look good His heart stopped in the ER. But you’re not family.”

“We’re practically family!” Nick protested from the other side of the room, leaning against the sink. “Kevin is family.”

“Yeah… Martha mentioned you guys were in a… band?”

“Yeah,” Howie said, leaning his head back. He suddenly felt exhausted. From the corner of his eye, he saw Nick nod vigorously.

The doctor shook her head, smiling slightly. “Alright. Who cares about policy anymore these days, right?” she stood up, “You’re all patched up for now; I’ll go see if I can get any update on your friend, I’ll be right back.”

“Thank you,” Howie mumbled, watching her leave the room with a frown on his face.

“Well, she definitely knows more than she wants to admit. God. That means it’s really bad, doesn’t it?” Nick groaned behind him.

Howie grunted noncommittally. He was lost in thought for a long moment before he turned his head, “Nick?”

“What?”

“When you… you know… when you passed out, back in the ambulance?”

Nick rolled his eyes, “What about it, Howie?” He asked, annoyed.

“Why did you call out Brian’s name?”

Nick shot him a confused look, “I-I didn’t. Did I?”

Howie nodded, “Yeah, it was really weird.”

“I don’t… I don’t know. I don’t remember.”

“Think about it though… The pain in your leg, the cold. Doesn’t that sound awfully familiar?” Howie questioned, feeling his heartbeat quicken. He was on to something, he could feel it.

“I can’t follow you,” Nick stated.

“Think, Nick!” Howie urged, sitting up straight, waving his arms about in an excited manner, “They amputated his leg… his temperature was about 78… I mean… his heart stopped, for crying out loud! I bet it must have been right around the time you passed out!”

“Yeah, okay!” Nick exclaimed, pushing himself away from the counter as he started to pace around the room, “I mean… I’ll admit that it’s hella weird! But there should be a logical explanation for this! Something that actually… you know… makes sense!”

He stared at Howie with wide eyes that were begging him for an explanation that actually made sense, but Howie shook his head. “I don’t know how to explain it Nick. It’s not like I’ve ever heard of it before. But there’s a connection. You know it too.”