Brian lay in his hospital bed, groggy and uncomfortable... in pain, but still overwhelmingly grateful to be alive. The more he thought about the day's events (and believe me, he tried hard not to think about them at all), the more he began to realize how incredibly lucky he was to be alive. All of the pain and all of the physical injuries -- the bruises and the broken ribs, the handprints around his neck and the throbbing in his head... those wounds would heal with time. Death, he knew, would have been the eternal alternative to his place in this world. And now, staring at the photo of his wife and son the nurse had been kind enough to retrieve from the wallet of his blue jean pants pocket and prop on his bedside table -- as deep as his belief in God had always been, and as spiritual a man as he still was, he refused to even allow himself to think about the alternatives. About what could have happened. Because, as he continously reminded himself, what could have happened was not what did happen.

His relief didn't stop his worry for Aj though. He'd been in that room... he'd felt the power of that man (if you could call him a man). He'd seen Aj's injuries with his very own eyes and in his heart he'd known -- from the moment his eyes had focused on the limp body of his brother in that hotel room -- that things were bad. Very bad. Physical wounds like Brian's were the kind that healed with time and rest. The wounds on Aj's body however... those were the kind of physical wounds that could leave a lasting impression. A damage so bad that it could scar a man for life... or worse.

Brian took his eyes off the photo of Leighanne and Baylee. He wondered what time it was. It felt like tomorrow... or maybe next week.

It felt like a lifetime had passed by since he'd been brought into the hospital that morning, even though in reality he knew it was still today. That the setting sun outside his window meant that night was falling and with night would come darkness and the thought of darkness on a day like today was almost more than he could bare.

It'd been well over an hour since Howie had left the room after the sweet nurse had told him he could finally go visit Aj in the ICU. That seemed like an awfully long time... especially when Brian knew the rules in the ICU far too well. 15 minutes with the patient. In and out and don't disturb. 15 minutes was a lot less time then 'well over an hour'.

Where was Howie?

How was Aj?

And why oh why was Nick still refusing to say anything at all?

He turned to the silent figure of his best friend, lying in the bed on the other side of the room, his back towards Brian, the blankets hiding all but the blonde tufts of hair that peeked out from beneath the covers. If it weren't for those tufts and his gentle snoring, Brian wouldn't have even been sure a human being inhabited the space on that bed at all.

Nick hadn't said a word since he'd passed out a few hours before. The nurses and doctors had rushed in quickly and settled him into the bed next to Brian's and he'd laid there in silence and stared at the ceiling and said absolutely nothing at all. Even when Brian tried to make small talk... even then he was met with the back of Nick's head as the young man rolled over onto his side and pretended to be too tired to carry on a conversation, or to answer the question "are you okay?"

Brian was worried about Nick... really worried. It was no secret that the youngest Backstreet Boy's life had been a mess of family and emotional problems. A mother and father who cared more about their young son's money than his well being, accusations of homosexuality and weight issues and then, then the whole Paris thing. The whole damn Paris thing.

Aj had always said that Nick lived his life with one foot in the asylum. Not that Aj had ever been one to talk, but they'd mostly agreed. The kid spent most of his time on the edge of sanity... but Brian would never have guessed it'd been a homicidal maniac who'd push him over.

Brian sighed as another pain shot through his neck and head. He knew the doctor's wanted to keep him unmedicated until the police arrived to interview him, but this was getting ridiculous. He wanted something for the pain and he wanted to sleep. He wanted to stop thinking about everything that had happened that day.

Suddenly, the silence that had settled over the room came to an abrupt halt as voices in the hallway -- loud voices -- echoed through the air...