After several bouts of dry heaves, Nick finally laid back down onto the tiled floor, drawing the blanket tightly around his shoulders.

Kevin sadly stared at Nick’s sleeping form. The worry was weighing heavy in his heart. He had seen this one other time in his life and he lost that person. There was no way he could deal with something like that ever again, Kevin decided as he closed his eyes. His thoughts were interrupted when Nick started whimpering.

“Jjjust lllet ma-ma-ma-me die,” he moaned as he placed a protective hand across his stomach.

“Are you gonna get sick again?”

Nick shook his head. “Ma-my ssstomach huhurts.”

Kevin looked into his little brother’s face. The color had been long since drained and his pale, ghostly features confirmed how badly Nick was feeling. As the part started coming in waves, Nick would gasp and curl into a tighter ball.

Kevin pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. “You’re scaring me, I’m gonna call an ambulance and get you to the hospital.”

Nick’s head shot up. “Nnnoooo, please!”

“Nick, I can’t just sit here and watch this. You need to get help and you need to go to the hospital, you’re getting dehydrated and I know that something has to be done,” Kevin replied in an authoritative voice.

Nick kept shaking his head, moaning.

Kevin sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Okay, I’ll give you a choice, it’s either the ambulance or I drive you there, but you’re going either way.”

Swallowing hard, Nick stopped shaking his head and looked up at Kevin with red rimmed eyes. “I’m scared.”

“I know buddy, to be honest with you, I’m scared too,” Kevin soothed as he lightly stroked Nick’s arm.

Nick shivered, as another bout of chills wracked his taxed body. “Just take me,” he stated in a soft voice.

Kevin tucked the cellphone into his pants pocket. “Okay Nick, I’m gonna wet down a washcloth and clean you up a bit.”

Laying on the floor, staring at Kevin’s feet, Nick didn’t have the energy to try to sit up and opted to wait until his older brother helped him. He hated feeling so weak.

“Here,” Kevin said as he held the powder blue washcloth out. After a moment when he realized that Nick wasn’t reaching out to take it from his hands, Kevin crouched beside him and gently rubbed the cool cloth over Nick’s sweaty skin. “Feel good?”

All Nick could do was moan, it was a mixture of pleasure and agony.

“There, let me help you up,” Kevin grunted as he tried to lift the dead weight up from the floor, Nick’s legs were too weak to do it on his own.

Helping his young friend out to the garage was a challenge in itself, Nick’s dogs kept running in and out between their master’s legs and Kevin’s nearly tripping them a few times. Out of frustration, Kevin angrily kicked one of the pugs sending it spinning across the kitchen floor. The dog scurried off, yowling.

”HEY!” Nick snapped.

Sagging his shoulders, Kevin mumbled a quick apology, empty of sincerity. He guided Nick out to the car, helping him adjust the seatbelt.

“I’ll be back in a sec,” Kevin announced as he quickly slipped back into the house. Nick could hear his dogs barking again, some doors banging shut and the clattering of dishes. A few moments later, Kevin returned, a large plastic bowl in his hands. Sliding into the driver’s seat, he set the bowl on Nick’s lap with the words, “just in case.”

As Kevin pulled into the parking lot of the hospital, Nick's stomach began knotting up. Nick was thinking how hard it was to believe that only a few months ago he had merely drove past the place, now he knew every detail, inside and out.

"I feel better Kev, let's just turn around and go back home," Nick begged when Kevin turned off the engine.

Kevin noticed that Nick sat like a rock in the passenger seat, making no attempt to take off his seatbelt. He sighed as he looked at his friend.

"You realize that if you don't walk in, I'll carry you in there."

Nick studied Kevin, narrowing his eyes. "You wouldn't dare, would you?"

"Care to find out?"

As Nick opened his mouth to reply, a sharp pain raced through his midsection. Gasping, his hands flew quickly to his stomach. By the time Kevin shot out of the car to help, Nick had already threw the door open and was hunched over, his body having fits of dry heaving again. All Kevin could do was stroke Nick’s back, in small, comforting circles.

The vomiting came on so violently, that again, Nick didn’t have anytime to catch his breath and when he finally was able to stop, he gasped for air, tears streaming down his flushed cheeks.

Fingering the device at the front of his stomach, Nick mumbled through gritted teeth, “I’m gonna shut this off!”

Kevin placed a comforting arm around his young charge. “No Nick, this will get better, just ride it out, it has to get better.”

“That’s what she said when I started radiation and look where I am now.”

Kevin bit his lip not daring to add anything to stop Nick’s negative thoughts.

“You want me to grab a wheel chair and tak---”

“No,” Nick interrupted. “I can walk.”

Kevin helped him towards the emergency entrance, Nick leaning heavily onto him, hunched over.

As the automatic double doors slid open, Nick felt his breathing quicken, panic setting in. This was the last place he wanted to come to, but he didn’t have a choice with Kevin.

“Sit down. Did you bring your wallet?” Kevin questioned in a whisper.

Wordlessly, Nick handed the brown leather wallet over. “Insurance card is behind my license.”

Clutching the plastic bowl, Nick leaned forward trying to find a comfortable position and was failing miserably. He dared not look around the lobby, afraid someone would recognize him or approach him. He thought he heard a hushed coversation coming from two girls about twenty feet from where he sat. He closed his eyes, trying to block the voices out, but was unsuccessful in blocking out all of the conversation.

On the other side of the bright waiting lounge, eighteen year old Kelly and her best friend Melissa were waiting for their turn in the emergency room. Her mouth dropped open when she saw Kevin Richardson’s tall frame walk into the admitting department.

“Mel, god, isn’t that Kevin from BSB?” Kelly whispered.

“God, yeah, he’s so damn hot too in person,” Melissa gushed as she stared.

“If that’s Kevin, who’s the blonde guy he’s with? Brian?” Kelly questioned as she continued watching Kevin help the blonde into a chair.

Melissa didn’t answer as she studied the hunched figure, waiting for him to speak or show something that would help her to recognize the man. “Oh my god, no way!” she breathed.

“What?” Kelly demanded as she looked at Melissa’s open mouthed face.

“No way!”

Kelly sunk her hand into her friend’s arm. “Tell me,” she whispered through gritted teeth.

“God, I hope I’m wrong, but doesn’t that look like Nick Carter?”

Kelly narrowed her eyes at the man, taking in his pale features. “No, can’t be, that guy’s way too thin to be Nick. Maybe it’s some friend of Kevy’s.”

“Could be,” Melissa agreed. “Shhh, he’s coming back!”

Kevin truged across the floor towards Nick. Sitting down, he leaned over and told Nick the admitting clerk didn’t say how long the wait was. He also added that he had tried to get him in right away.

“Kev, I can wait like everyone else,” Nick mumbled, clutching the bowl, trying to fend off another wave of nausea.

Leaning back into the chair, Kevin sighed and closed his eyes, trying to block out the stares he could feel on him. He had hoped the waiting area would have been filled with older people that had no clue of Backstreet but he saw the two teens that obviously recognized them. He was wishing that Nick was too sick to notice.

“Shit,” Nick grimaced, quickly leaning over and dry heaving into the bowl. Kevin quickly started rubbing Nick’s back, stealing quick glances around the room.

“Awe, Nick is really sick,” Melissa whispered to her friend.

Kelly giggled, “Well you know how he loves to party.”

Upon hearing those words, Kevin shot a not-so-nice icy glare at the young woman. She squirmed in her seat and looked quickly away.

“He wasn’t suppose to hear that,” she whispered to her friend.

“God, why can’t they take you in? You’re sick!” Kevin complained as he shifted in his seat.

“It will be my turn soon,” Nick replied, his voice barely audible.

Kevin became obviously upset when the young girl that had been staring at Nick since they arrived got called back to be seen.

“Oh for the love of God!” he breathed as he pulled himself from his chair.

“It’s okay, sit down,” Nick pleaded.

Kevin raked a hand through his hair as he paced a small area of the lobby. He would look back at Nick ever so often to make sure he was okay and still holding on.

“Nick? Is something wrong?” Kevin asked when he noticed Nick wincing and holding his stomach. “You gonna get sick again?”

“Worse I think,” he groaned.

A million things raced through Kevin’s mind. “Worse?”

“I-I have to get to the bathroom, now!” Nick stammered as he tried to stand up, only to fall back into the seat.

Kevin quickly gave Nick an arm to lean on as he helped him into the bathroom. He pushed away all thoughts of ‘what would people think about me going into a bathroom with Nick.’ Nick needed him and he would do whatever had to be done. It only took one second of watching Nick weakly try to pull his sweatpants away from the chemo device that Kevin reached out and with one pull got the pants down. Because of the help, Nick was able to sit on the toilet before he had an accident.

Nick looked up at his older brother, embarrassement evident on his face.

“It’s okay,” Kevin reassured.

“Thanks,” Nick replied sheepishly. “I think I can manage now.”

Kevin raised his eyebrows as he looked down at Nick.

“They have these cool bars for handicapped people. That would be me right now, so I think I can do it. Just wait for me outside the door, okay?” Nick joked, trying to make light of an embarrassing situation.

Kevin reluctantly left his weak brother and softly closed the door. As he leaned against the wall, he rubbed his tired eyes. He was worried more than he would allow Nick to know. It seemed that his body was trying to rid itself of the chemo and fighting Nick’s every efforts to battle the cancer that was consuming him. Kevin quickly gathered his composure when the door clicked open and Nick slowly appeared.

“Nickolas?” a nursing assitant called out as the two were walking around the corner.

“Right here,” Kevin called as he steadied Nick. He leaned in closely and whispered into Nick’s ear, “Do you think you can make it while I go grab the pail?”

“Yeah,” Nick mumbled as he continued towards the woman.

“Dr. Andersen? Why are you here?” Nick asked in a surprised voice when the woman entered the bay where he was laying on a cart.

Holding a clipboard, the woman started thumbing through the pages. “Your ER doctor called me because he was concerned about what is going on with you.”

Drawing the blanket up closer to his chest, Nick tried to blow it off. “Well, it’s nothing that she needed to call you on. I just had trouble adjusting to the higher dose of chemo I guess. My body sucks. They gave me an IV and some stuff for the nausea and it seems to be working.”

“That’s not what has me concerned,” Dr. Andersen said as she peered at her patient over the tops of her glasses.

Nick shifted nervously on the cart and looked pleadingly over towards Kevin. “Kev, can you go out in the lobby and wait while we talk?”

“You can talk in front of me Nick, it’s okay, it will stay between you and I,” Kevin reassured.

“No, it’s okay, I would rather just talk to her alone, I’ll send someone out to get you when we’re done.”

Reluctantly, Kevin left the curtained bay. As he walked towards the exit, he couldn’t help but notice that all of the bays were full, only a thin sheet came between each bay for privacy.

Once the heavy sound of Kevin’s footsteps faded, Dr. Andersen sat on the edge of the cart, her body turned to face her young patient.

“Nickolas, Dr. Zuckerman called when your labs came back with elevated enzymes on your liver, and it’s higher this time than it was last week when you had a blood draw in my office. Did you call and schedule the ultrasound and the CT like you said you were going to?”

Nick looked away from the woman’s gaze. “I um, kinda got busy with work.”

Dr. Andersen sighed as she continued to look at her patient. “Nickolas, this isn’t something simple like a broken bone we’re dealing with here. We are dealing with your life and anything and everything you do weighs heavily on whether you live or die. I want to help you, but I cannot help you if you don’t help yourself.”

“What difference does this make anymore? I’ve got Hodgekins and I’m more than likely going to die from this. Why do I have to keep on putting up a front? What the hell good is this?” Nick asked as he gestured to the chemo pump. “This only makes me more sick and wish I was dead.”

“I’m doing everything I medically can to prevent that, but I can’t help you if you don’t help me!”

Unfallen tears welled up in Nick’s eyes. “Just let me die, I’m done fighting.”

“Nickolas, you can’t mean that,” Dr. Andersen replied as she started flipping through the papers on the clipboard, frantically searching. Nick reached out and placed a hand on her arm.

“Turn the chemo off, I’m done with all of this,” he stated as tears rolled down his cheeks.

“Y-you just feel sick right now, it will get better,” the normally unflappable doctor stammered. “Please reconsider this, you’re making a horrible mistake.”

“I’ve thought this through, I’m tired of fighting, it’s not getting any better.”

Dr. Andersen furiously scribbled notes on a sheet of paper in his chart. “We’re continuing with the IV’s and you’ll be admitted tonight for observation. You’re too weak to go home,” she stated as she got off the bed.

“Put orders in to stop the chemo and I’ll stay tonight,” Nick challenged.

“I can’t just discontinue that,” Dr. Andersen lied, “I can adjust the pump to go with a lower doseage and gradually wean you from it.”

“Whatever you have to do, just do it,” Nick breathed, his tired eyes locking on with the doctor’s.

“Would you like your friend to come back in?” the doctor asked before she left.

Wiping the tears from his cheeks, Nick shook his head. “No, not just yet, I need some time alone.”

Laying the orders for Nick to be admitted on the counter, Dr. Andersen told them to wait for a minute before they set them in motion. “I will be back to finish the papers.”

She hurried out of the emergency department the back way, towards her office on the eighth floor.

The phone ringing woke Brian Littrell from a sound sleep. His first reaction was to see if Leighanne was still sleeping next to him, his arm brushing against her shoulder. Once he was assured she was okay, he felt around the nightstand for the device to quiet it before it woke her up.

”Brian, it’s the phone” she whispered, her voice hoarse from sleep.

As he lifted the receiver up, Brian tried to clear the sleep from his dry throat.

“Yeah,” he croaked into the phone, clearing his voice again. “Yeah?”

“Mr. Littrell, this is Dr. Andersen, Nick’s Oncologist.”

Brian’s heart lept into his throat. “Oh my god--”

His shocked response, had Leighanne’s attention and she turned toward her husband, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“I need to talk to you about Nickolas and I need your help as the patient advocate.”

"I'll book a flight and get there as soon as I can."

"This can't wait," the doctor responded.

Brian felt his heart sink.

"Nick is now refusing treatment and wants to die. I can't stand by him and watch this when I feel there is still something that can be done. Since I can medically say that Nick is no longer thinking clearly, I am going around him and going to now work with you, his patient advocate. He made that decision for you to speak for him when he could no longer think rationally and now is the time."

Brian swallowed hard as he listened to the doctor, opting not to interrupt. His whole body felt numb.

"He wanted the chemo discontinued, but I lied to him and told him that I couldn't do that so quickly. We are going to have to be sneaky about what we do from here on out, but I have done some research and there is still a few things I can try and I don't know if there are any percentages about success versus failure in these treatments, but I feel it's necessary to do what we can for him now. All I need is your verbal approval and I'll start this and when we meet I will get your formal consent."

"You will have it in less than twenty-four hours," Brian replied.