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Chapter 162


AN: This chapter is dedicated to everyone who posted in the “101 Ways…” thread on my forum. Hope you like it. ;)


Standing just inside the hospital waiting room, Nick watched the display of emotions run across Jamie’s face.

First, recognition came to his cool blue eyes. Almost instantaneously, it was replaced with anger, as his features contorted into an enraged glower. He muttered something Nick could not decipher into his phone and then flipped it shut, tossing it down on the chair as he stood, glaring daggers at Nick.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he spat bitterly. “What the hell do you think you’re doing here??”

“We’re here for Claire,” Nick said evenly. “How is she?”

“None of your damn business, Carter.”

“What about me?” spoke up Laureen, her voice challenging him. “I’m her friend. Dianna called me. I think I have a right to ask how she’s doing.”

“Dianna can’t keep her big mouth shut. She shouldn’t have called you,” Jamie replied. “Claire doesn’t want anyone around. She’s trying to sleep.”

“What about the babies?” Laureen pressed.

Jamie’s anger seemed to fade a notch. “Everything’s alright now. They stopped her labor.”

“Thank god,” murmured Nick, feeling instantly relieved.

Jamie was immediately back on the defensive. “Oh, what do you care, Carter? They’re not your babies, and Claire’s not your wife. You have no damn business being here.”

“She’s my friend. I care about her and her babies.”

“Yeah, well, if you ask me, you’re a little too friendly with her. I want you out of here, now, or I’ll call security and have them throw you out.”

Nick didn’t take well to being threatened. Deciding to bait Jamie back, he replied, “Oh, so now you call on the rent-a-cops who work here to do your dirty work for you? If you really want me gone, why don’t you just throw me out yourself? You should have no problem taking on a fucking gimp like me… but oh, wait? Didn’t you try that once?”

He was referring to the time when Jamie had gone after him on the beach, the night of Claire’s moving away party. Clearly, by the way Jamie’s face reddened, he remembered that time too.

“Your face is all you got left, Carter. You really want me to fuck that up?” asked Jamie, his voice mocking.

“I really wanna see you try,” Nick retorted, not skipping a beat. “I’m not leaving without seeing Claire, so if you want me gone, you’re-”

He didn’t get another word in, for apparently, Jamie had heard enough to know what he was going to have to do. Without warning, he lunged at Nick, grabbing the collar of his shirt, and reeled back his fist. But before he could get in a good punch, Nick jerked the stump of his left leg upward with as much force as he could muster, sending his titanium prosthesis straight up between Jamie’s legs. As the durable metal made contact, Jamie choked out a gasp of pain and immediately crumpled to the ground, the fight instantly sucked out of him. He writhed on the floor, cupping his bruised genitalia and moaning in pain. Hoping he’d caused enough damage to prevent the prick from ever impregnating a woman again, through any means, Nick couldn’t help but smile in satisfaction.

“That was a low blow, you fucking gimp,” Jamie coughed bitterly, glaring up at Nick from the floor with tears in his eyes.

“I know it was below the belt. Literally,” Nick cracked smugly. He couldn’t feel sorry for the guy who had stolen Claire away, only to walk out on her whenever she needed him. He was a pussy; he didn’t deserve to call himself a man.

Laureen giggled, and Nick looked over at her appreciatively. But in the moment he let his guard down, Jamie struck back. Like a cat, he suddenly sprang out of his fetal position and pounced, grabbing the thin ankle of Nick’s prosthetic leg and tugging as hard as he could. Nick’s plastic foot was pulled right out from under him, and he fell hard onto his ass, nearly cracking his tailbone. Thankfully, his well-defined ass successfully cushioned his fall, and as soon as he got over his surprise, he reacted quickly, jerking the valve on the side of his socket which kept it suctioned to his stump. As soon the suction was released, the prosthetic leg slid off easily in Jamie’s hand.

Jamie was so shocked that he let go quickly in disgust, and the leg banged to the floor with a dull thud. Nick snatched it back and, using a nearby chair for support, rose back up and stood on his one good leg, holding the artificial one above his head.

“Fucking gimp, huh?” he taunted, smirking down at Jamie. “You wanna mess with a fucking gimp? Fine. Then prepare for pain.” And, using the titanium leg like a baseball bat, he swung it down, colliding with Jamie’s head.

Jamie cried out in pain and put his hands over his head, cowering as Nick raised the leg up again, his well-developed balance keeping him steady on his right leg. All of the frustration and resentment he’d felt towards Jamie over the last few years starting pouring out, as he brought down the leg again and again, battering Jamie’s pathetic form.

“Stop it,” Jamie sobbed, trying in vain to shield himself from the blows of the prosthetic leg. “You can have her; just stop beating me! Oww, that hurts!”

Nick might have continued the beatdown as long as Jamie was conscious, but his high-pitched shrieks of pain and fear attracted the attention of a nurse, who, after getting over her bewilderment at seeing a one-legged man beating the living shit out of someone with his fake leg, ran to call security.

The rent-a-cops Nick had spoken of earlier came quickly. One of them dragged Nick away from Jamie, confiscating his prosthetic weapon, while the other pulled a whimpering Jamie up from the floor. “You’re out of here, both of you,” one of them growled, as they hauled both men down the hall, into the elevator, and back to the main floor. “And stay out!” he shouted, shoving them both out the door.

“Hey, can I have my fake leg back?” Nick begged, teetering on his good one.

They gave him back his prosthesis, and he couldn’t help but raise it menacingly at Jamie once more. Jamie shrieked like a school girl and ran, not looking where he was going. He ran right out into the street, oblivious to the silver Jaguar that was hurtling toward him.

“Hey, watch-!” Nick started to call out and then thought, Hey, that silver Jag looks a lot like…

But before he could finish that thought, there was a scream and a dull thud, and he watched in horror as Jamie’s body bounced off the hood of the Jag and landed in an awkward heap in the middle of the street.

The Jaguar screeched to a stop, and a woman jumped out. “Oh my god!” she screamed. “He just ran out into the middle of the road! I didn’t have time to stop!”

“Meh, that’s okay. He’s a douche anyway,” shrugged Nick, offering the woman a reassuring smile. “So what’s your name?”

“Christine,” answered the woman, eyeing Jamie’s still form warily.

“I’m Nick, and I used to drive a car just like that. When did you get it?”

“Oh, earlier this year… middle of February, I think.”

“Hm, just a couple weeks after I sold mine. Interesting…” said Nick.

“Hey! He’s alive!” Christine exclaimed suddenly, pointing. “Oh thank god, I didn’t kill him.”

Nick looked over at Jamie, who was showing signs of movement, starting to pick himself up off the street. “Hey, dude, are you okay?” he called.

Just then, out of nowhere, a navy blue Escalade came along and barreled right over Jamie, its tires crushing his already contused body.

“Stupid potholes,” muttered the driver of the Escalade, who looked an awful lot like Laureen, as she typed away on her Sidekick, completely unaware of the pedestrian she’d just flattened. She zoomed on down the street, narrowly missing a fire hydrant, an old lady in a wheelchair, and a squirrel.

“Oh my God! She killed Jamie!” Nick cried.

“You bastard!” yelled Laureen, coming up beside him. Glaring at Jamie’s mangled body, lying in a crimson puddle in the middle of the street, she added, “I can’t believe you would pull someone’s fake leg right out from under him! You deserve to rot in a leper colony!!”

“Uh, Laureen? I think he’s… dead…” said Nick, eyeing Jamie’s mutilated remains. It was a gruesome sight; his left leg, which had taken most of the weight of the tires, actually looked almost flat. All the bones inside were surely crushed, the tissues smeared against the asphalt.

Then, suddenly, Jamie’s body began to twitch.

“Look! He’s not dead!” Laureen exclaimed.

Behind her, the doors of the hospital suddenly burst open, and a team of medical personnel came rushing out with a stretcher. “Move aside!” they shouted, pushing the curious onlookers out of the way. As Nick was still holding his fake leg in his hand, he simply toppled over sideways when they pushed him and struck his head against the concrete.

The last thing he remembered was Laureen screaming “You bastard!” again and everything going black…

***

When he woke up, the first thing Nick saw was Claire’s face. She was smiling down at him, and for a moment, he thought he’d died and gone to heaven. His angel… she was there.

“Claire?” he asked, and he was surprised at how raspy his voice sounded, as if he’d been sleeping for a long time. “Are… are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she answered, sounding surprised. “How are you feeling?”

“Okay, I guess,” he said, also surprised because his head didn’t hurt nearly as much as he thought it would. In fact, it didn’t really hurt at all. But he wasn’t thinking of himself; he was more concerned about her. “Are the babies still alright too?”

“Oh, they’re great!” Claire exclaimed cheerfully. “They’re starting to sit up!”

“They’re… wait, what??” Nick asked, suddenly very confused.

“Nick, the twins are four months old now. You… you’ve been in a coma for over six.”

“What?!”

“That night I went into preterm labor, when Jamie had his accident, you fell and hit your head on some concrete. The blow gave you a head injury and put you in a coma. You’ve been here in the hospital ever since.”

Nick looked around in utter bewilderment and realized with a start that she was right. He was in a hospital room… in a hospital bed. He was the patient now, not her. She was… well, she was fine. Looking more closely at her now, he realized that she was no longer pregnant, her body returned to its old figure (or close enough).

“What the fuck… this is crazy,” he muttered, blinking up at her in shock.

“I know… I knew you’d be in for a shock when you woke up. I’m just glad you did finally wake up. We weren’t sure, for awhile. But you’re awake now, and that’s all that matters.” She smiled and squeezed his hand. “I love you, Nick. I just want you to know that. I’ve been whispering it in your ear for months, but I want to say it to you now, while you’re awake to hear it.”

“I love you, to-“ Nick stated to say automatically, and then he stopped. “Wait… why did you say that?? How can you-? Where’s Jamie??”

He’d dead, he realized suddenly, before she could answer. He got hit by a car – two cars, actually – and he died. Why did I ask that??

Claire shrugged. “Not sure. I guess you have no idea what all happened to him.”

“No… what?? He’s still alive??” Nick asked incredulously.

“As far as I know, yeah.” She sighed. “This is a long story, but here goes. It’s actually pretty freaking ironic, what happened to Jamie. He was hurt really badly when the car hit him; he almost died. He was in surgery for, like, ten hours, but they managed to repair his internal injuries. The only thing they couldn’t save… was his leg.”

“What?!”

“Yeah, they had to amputate his leg. His left leg. Above the knee. Just like you.”

“What?! No way!”

“Yes way. That’s what I mean about it being ironic,” Claire said, grinning. “So Jamie lost his leg, and everything went downhill from there. There was no saving our marriage at that point. I was still pregnant and on bed rest, and he was recuperating, and neither one of us could be much help to each other. All I could do was talk to him, but he didn’t want to hear anything I had to say. As far as he was concerned, his life was over.”

“I can relate to that,” admitted Nick, offering her a crooked smile.

“I know, but you came out of that. You went on with your life. He didn’t. He threw himself a pity party for the rest of our marriage. A pity party with lots and lots of booze. He turned to alcohol, and it got to the point where he was drunk all the time. I didn’t want him around me anymore, and when the twins were born, I definitely didn’t want him around them. So I filed for divorce.”

Nick blinked at her hopefully, his heart soaring. “You did??”

She gave him a thin smile. “Uh-huh. It almost broke my heart to do it… I didn’t want to leave him… but he wasn’t even trying to get on with his life, and I couldn’t let him hurt me or my kids anymore. I gave him an ultimatum, and in the end, he made me leave him.”

“So... so you’re divorced now?”

In response, she held up her left hand, and he could see that her wedding rings were gone. “I’m Ms. Ryan again. Just became official a few days ago. So your timing’s perfect.”

“My timing?”

Claire nodded and smiled seductively. Leaning over, she lowered her face to his and captured his lips in a long, tender kiss. Nick drank it in, savoring it, feeling as if he were tasting something sweet he had not had in a long, long time. In essence, he was.

Man, he thought, when she finally eased away, allowing him to breathe, if she had done that a few months ago, I’m sure I would have woken up then. He suddenly knew what it felt like to be Snow White, brought back from death by true love’s kiss.

“I’m ready to be Mrs. Carter now,” Claire whispered, slipping her hand into his. “That is, if you’ll have me.”

“Of course I’ll have you. You’ve always had me,” Nick replied simply, bringing her hand to his lips. “You’re the Ren to my Stumpy.”

Claire giggled. “And you’re the Stumpy to my Ren. The one and only Stumpy. That’s what I told Jamie when I filed the divorce papers.”

Nick burst out laughing. “You did not.”

“No. I didn’t.”

“You should have, though. The guy’s a douche.”

“Yeah.” She grinned. “I know that now.”

What she didn’t know, and neither did Nick, was the current predicament Jamie was in.

After losing Claire, Jamie had in turn lost himself, deeper and deeper into an alcohol addiction. He spent his lonely nights in seedy bars, drinking his misery away, numbing the phantom pains and emotional pain with vodka and whiskey. One night he got into a fight with a guy who was bigger and stronger and, ironically, also named Nick. The next night, he met a woman, the first woman who had shown any interest in him since Claire had left.

Her name was Carmyn.

She had coaxed him back her house that night, and it was then that he had discovered why she was attracted to him, when most other women weren’t. After several more drinks and a few hits of GHB, he spent a night engaged in the kinkiest and most depraved sex acts he’d ever witnessed. And when he woke up in the morning, he found himself chained to a bed in her basement.

He’d been there ever since.

He spent his days rocking back and forth in bed, wishing for death and trying to drown out the strains of Nick Carter’s song “Is It Saturday Yet?” which she kept playing on constant repeat while she was away at work. He spent his nights letting her tease off the prosthetic leg he’d never quite learned to walk on properly and stick his stump in places he’d never dreamed it would fit, all while listening to a medley of Marvin Gaye’s “Let’s Get It On” and Nick’s song “Miss America.”

The phrase “Take it off, take it off… let’s get it on, get it on” had never held such meaning.

And never had Jamie believed in karma, until he met Carmyn.

He paid the price for the way he had treated Nick and Claire, as they grew back together and went on with their lives without him, never knowing quite what had become of him. Eventually, he escaped from Carmyn, but he would never see Claire again. He embarked on a trip around the world, in an attempt to bring meaning to his life, but his plane crashed and left him stranded on a deserted island for several years, with only his fake leg Filson to keep him company. Eventually he built a raft and sailed to Tanzania, where he would remain.

Claire married Nick, just as she’d always meant to, and they raised her twins together as their own. Laureen eventually found her own true love and married too. And, in the end, they all lived happily ever after…

… except for Jamie, who died of leprosy two years later.

The End.

***

“Nick?”

A firm poke caused Nick’s eyes to spring open.

“Huh? I thought the story was over…” he mumbled, disoriented.

“What story? We’re here,” said Laureen. “At the hospital. Come on, wake up. You wanna see Claire, don’t you?”

All of a sudden, Nick was awake and alert again. Looking around in confusion, he realized he was still in the taxi, which was parked in front of the main entrance of Tampa General. He must have fallen asleep on the ride from St. Petersburg to Tampa. How had that happened??

“Yeah, yeah… sorry, I’m awake now,” he muttered and quickly fumbled for his wallet.

He paid the cabbie, tipping extra for the speed in which he’d gotten them there, and climbed out. Laureen followed closely behind as he led the way into the hospital that was all-too-familiar to him.

“I can’t believe I fell asleep,” he mumbled, as they walked inside. “I had one pretty whacked out dream, too.”

“Did you? You were pretty out of it,” said Laureen with a smile. “You were smiling right before I woke you up though. Must have been a good one.”

Nick avoided looking her right in the eye as he answered, “Well, yeah… it ended good, anyway.”

***


AN: Thanks to Erin, Jenna, Nina, Laureen, Nick, Veronica, Christine, and everyone else who contributed ideas for this chapter or simply opted for the “selective abortion” of Jamie. ;) It’s the Sanctuary crew who made this chapter so trippy though, and I love them for it – I had fun writing it anyway =P Hope you guys had fun reading it too!