CHAPTER NINE - WHAT DO I DO NOW?

Brian sat restlessly in bed, fuming for over the better part of two hours as he randomly surfed the TV for something to watch. He finally gave up and clicked the TV off, tossing the remote to one side. Leaning over, he reached and hit the nurse's button once more with a savage punch, his irritation at them, the doctors, and everything in general growing with each passing minute.

What’s going on?

Over an hour ago he had requested to see his doctor. The nurse agreed, guaranteeing to find him as soon as possible. Yeah, right. Brian had been in enough hospitals to remember what a nurse's "promise" was like. He wanted to get the hell out of here, the sooner the better, and as he stared at the IV in his arm, seriously contemplated on taking the damn thing out himself.

Brian massaged his forearm gently around the taped needle, trying to relieve some of the discomfort. He peeled back the tape a little, then a little more. Ah, that felt better. He began to pick at the tape again but stopped quickly when he heard the sound of his door being pushed opened, revealing his nurse and a doctor. At least he thought it was a doctor. Brian couldn't be sure. The young man wore casual clothes, none of the white coats he had seen so far.

With a nod to the nurse, the young man excused her and came over to Brian's bed, extending a hand in greeting.

"Hello, I'm Dr. Morrison. You must be Brian Littrell."

Brian nodded and shook hands, noticing the doctor was carrying a clipboard. Good. It must be his medical release forms. He relaxed, knowing he'd be out within the hour.

"Okay, let's get this thing going, Doc. Where do you want me to sign?"

Dr. Morrison pulled up a chair and sat down, his brow knitted in confusion. "Sign? Sign what?"

Brian frowned, feeling the pit of his stomach twist into a knot. "You know, my discharge papers. I'm leaving, right?"

"I don't know. Are you?"

Frustration turned into anger. "Of course I am! You're here to sign me out, aren't you?"

Dr. Morrison shifted in his chair. "Mr. Littrell. I don't see anything in your chart regarding that. Maybe you are being discharged. Maybe you aren't. I truly don't know."

"Then why are you here?"

"I've been requested to see you. I am a psychiatric consultant."

Brian sat straight up in bed. "A shrink? What for? I don't need a shrink!" He began to panic, his voice rising with each sentence.

"Mr. Littrell. Brian. Calm down. I'm only here…"

"Who? Who sent you?"

"There has been some concern," soothed Dr. Morrison, ignoring his question, "that you've been having some problems with delusional and catatonic behavior. . . "

"What?!"

"I feel that if we can spend some time together, I can help to teach you to utilize…"

"Get out!"

"Mr. Littrell. No need to yell. As I was saying, with time, I'll be able to assist you in…"

Livid, Brian jumped out of his bed, ignoring the stinging tug from his IV. "Listen here, Doc. I didn't request you. I don't know who did, but I'm starting to get a pretty good idea. I do not want a psychiatrist. I do not need a psychiatrist. You got that?" Brian tried to keep his voice under control, feeling ridiculous standing there, towering over the still seated doctor clad only in his thin hospital gown.

"I know a few things about hospitals. And one is that you can't hold me against my will. I am not a threat to myself or to others, so you have no right to keep me here."

Brian watched as the doctor shrugged noncommittally.

"So, unless you want some big, nasty lawsuit on your hands, I suggest you or someone who can, to release me. Right now."

Dr. Morrison slowly stood up, shaking his head. "Mr. Littrell. Please. I'm asking you to reconsider. There are some anxious parties who wish for you to get better…"

"I'll bet," Brian commented bitterly. "Well, you can tell them…no! Nevermind. I'll tell them. Just as soon as I get outta here." Ignoring the perturbed look on the young doctor's face, Brian hit the nurse's button again and wonder of all wonders, she came in immediately.

"Figures," he muttered under his breath and then in no uncertain terms began to explain what he wanted. She nodded, a little hesitant, and glance over for authorization. Dr. Morrison sighed and waved at her to go find the attending physician.

"I really wish you would stop and think about this."

Brian shook his head, dragging the portable IV over to the small closet to fish out his street clothes. "No thanks. I don't need you to convince me of something I'm not."

"Oh? And what would that be?"

Glaring at the doctor, Brian struggled one-handed as he tried to yank his pants on. "That, as much as y'all want to believe it, I am not going insane."

*****************************

Brian looked at the cab driver in disbelief and with a heavy sigh pulled out his wallet. He knew that each city, each taxi cab driver had its own set of fees, but this guy was really taking highway robbery to a new level. Shaking his head, Brian paid the driver his outrageous price then grabbed his small duffel bag, sprinting for the side door that security held open for him.

It was mid afternoon, hours to go before the concert, but Brian was angry at how late it was. The hospital staff, as usual, had taken their own sweet time in discharging him, misplacing paperwork, unable to find his doctor for sign off. Brian had fumed inwardly at the incompetence and upon finding his own bodyguard absent, took matters into his own hands and had called for a cab.

Now, once inside, Brian blinked a few times to adjust his eyesight to the dimmed lights of the hallway, questioning one of the bodyguards which way to the arena's dressing room. Not hearing the soft vibration of music filtering down the hallway, Brian assumed that the guys hadn't completed a sound check yet. Wondering if anyone was in the arena, he turned down another quiet passage and scanned for the sign that indicated the direction of their dressing room.

With a not so gentle nudge of his foot, Brian shoved the door open and it flung back with a bang to reveal Kevin and Howie sitting patiently in their chairs, being attended to by the hairdressers. AJ and Nick were sprawled out on a couch; Nick playing a hand held game, AJ looking half-asleep.

Startled by the loud outburst, all four froze with unease as they watched Brian come in and throw his duffle bag to the floor.

"Brian?" Kevin got up off his chair, frowning.

"Yours truly. Surprised to see me?"

The mockery was not lost on Kevin as he came over to inspect his cousin. "But. . . but how come you are…you're not suppose to be. . . " His voiced faltered as Brian glared up at him.

"Ah, the Backstreet brotherly concern. I can feel it."

AJ took off his glasses, giving the hairdressers a quick nod to leave. He waited until the door closed before glancing at Brian suspiciously. "I thought you were in for at least another day."

"You wish," Brian shot back.

AJ's look of suspicion turned into a glare. "What’s that suppose to mean?"

"It means I don’t appreciate being thought as a raving lunatic, AJ! Come on guys - a psychiatrist? I would never do that to you - never." Disappointment crossed over Brian's face when he saw Howie refrain from looking at him, Nick still keeping his sight diligently on his game. Only Kevin and AJ had the nerve to look him straight in the eye.

"Brian, hey, we were only doing what we thought was best for you."

Brian brushed Kevin's hand off on his shoulder. "Best for me? Or best for Backstreet?"

"For both, Brian," spat AJ. "For both. And don't go trying to make us feel bad about that either! This is our life too, ya know. What affects you, affects all of us."

"But. . . "

"Brian! Can you honestly say that your behavior hasn't affected us or our performance on stage?"

Brian turned away for a moment, hand on hips as he bit his lip in frustration.

AJ took a step closer. "Well?" he questioned. "Can you? Brian, listen. This thing, this her, or whatever she is, is tearing you, tearing us apart! I'm not sure exactly why you have this obsession over her, but it's not healthy, Rok, it's not healthy, for you or for us."

Brian spun back to face AJ "So what do you want me to do? Just forget that it ever happened? Pretend that I never saw her? I can't do that!"

"Why not?"

Brian turned to see Nick gazing at him for the first time, a look of hope plain in his eyes. "Why not, Bri?" he repeated. "Just stay away from her. It's not that hard, is it?" Nick arose from the couch, coming over to face his friend. "Is it?" he pleaded. "Why is she so important?"

"I don't know," Brian whispered, hanging his head. "I don't know why. She just is."

"More important than me?" Brian heard the confusion, the hurt in Nick's voice. "More important than the guys?"

Brian sighed, at a loss. Why was it so important? Why was he so consumed with finding out who she was? She had caused nothing but anger and pain among them. Couldn't he just let it go? Forget it, ignore the whole thing? It would be so simply, really. Just don't look for her. Don't look. And maybe she’d go away. Leave. Bother someone else.

Bringing his head up, Brian gave Nick a faint smile, ashamed. He knew Nick was concerned about him, worried about what he was going through. Shouldn't it be his turn to do the same? To let her go, for the sake of their friendship, their livelihood, and his…sanity?

"I'm sorry. I never meant…it's just that…" Brian stumbled to explain and realized he couldn't. He knew that he would never be able to show, never be able to prove to the guys what exactly had happened to him. Give it up, he told himself. Give it up. Can't you see it's not worth it? It's not worth losing everything… is it? With a huge sigh, Brian knew what he had to do.

"Guys. . . I. . . I know all this has been pretty rough for you. I can't begin. . . I don't know what's wrong with me. I don't expect you to understand, especially when I can't. But I promise - I promise I'll stop. I won't try to find her anymore, all right? Okay? I don't wanna screw things up with the group. I want things as they were before, ya know? So, she can go straight to hell as far as I'm concerned."

Brian caught the relieved look in their eyes, felt the excited slaps on his shoulder, listened to their positive words of encouragement. He finally turned away, using the excuse of looking for his stage clothing so that they couldn't see the rising anxiety in his face, the trembling fear that was building up inside him. Because he knew, knew with a sinking feeling, that he would never, ever be able to keep that promise.

*******************************

Brian fought to control his nervous tension, realizing that the guys, especially Nick and AJ, were eying him carefully. With a firm nod he signaled for everyone to move forward and, in unison, they stepped onto the glowing cylinders. Rising gracefully into the air, amid the flashing lights and screams of thousands of fans, he struggled to keep his mind on one thing, the show. Keep it together, keep it together, concentrate! He focused on the dance routine, willing himself to stay on track as he sang with the guys. Yes! Don't look! Don't look around for her! Don't pay attention to anything except what you are supposed to be doing!

Thanking God that his shakiness was covered up by his dancing, Brian continued on, smiling gratefully for the occasional looks of support thrown his way. Halfway through the show he began to relax a little, congratulating himself. He had managed to walk across the catwalk and back to the stage without so much as a glance given to the front row. She's not there, she's not there… he chanted mentally. But. . . maybe I should check, just once, just once to make sure. . . He took a few steps closer to the edge.

As if reading his mind, Nick hurried over to Brian, throwing a friendly arm around his shoulder. Startled, Brian looked up. Still singing, Nick gently tugged him back to the center of the stage. Brian felt a flush of humiliation run through him, wondering if the guys had some sort of system arranged for guarding him. Vowing not to let his mind wander again, he gave his full attention to the next two songs, keeping as far away as he could from the edge of the stage.

The concert was almost over. With relief building to the point of near giddiness, Brian flashed Kevin a wide grin and Kevin replied with a quick thumb's up. Passing by Howie, Brian high-fived him then playfully snuck up behind Nick, snatching out of his friend's hand a stuffed basketball that had been thrown on stage.

I did it! I did it! Excitedly, he raced along the winged tip of the stage, waving to the crowd, reaching out precariously to touch eager fingertips as he sang the last song. Almost done and I didn't see her! Not once!

Oh my God!!

He almost fell when he felt a hand grab firmly onto his wrist. In a panic, he yelled then quickly wrenched away. His heart beating wildly, Brian threw the startled fan an ‘I’m sorry’ look when he realized he was staring into a pair of blue, not black eyes. Heaving a heavy sigh, he mouthed another "sorry" at the fan and gave a weak smile. Relieved that it wasn't her, Brian turned and started to jog back to the middle of the stage, only to stop in shock.

She was on stage.

Her.

On stage.

Just standing there, her dark eyes wide, her mouth opened with a sickly smile.

Oh no, dear God, no, please. . .

He watched dreamlike as she started to walk toward him, her smooth, effortless steps bringing her closer and closer. Feeling totally hopeless, Brian groaned and dropped to his knees in despair, his mike clattering to the floor.

“Bri?”

Brian heard AJ’s troubled voice over the music and turned to see AJ standing next to their guitar player. “Brian?” he said again, flashing a concerned look at the other guys who were valiantly trying to finish the song.

“What’s wrong?”

Brian shook his head, unable to speak, mesmerized as watched her walk nearer. Her hand slowly reached out, stretching, becoming impossibly long. With a shout of terror, Brian realized she was reaching out for AJ.

“No! No!” He jumped up, racing over to AJ, who was watching Brian with his mouth agape. Brian grabbed her arm and another flash of unbearable pain ripped through his body. Crying out in agony, Brian hung on, determined not to let her touch AJ. He barely heard the yells, the screams of the others around him, his eyes locked viciously onto hers, a will of strength versus control crossing between them. She blinked once, twice, as if confused before pulling away, slowly fading from sight until she became nonexistent. Exhausted, Brian slumped to the floor.

Panting, grimacing from the shock that had seemed to short-circuit every nerve in his body, Brian turned when he felt AJ’s fingers digging fiercely into his shoulder. It was then that Brian realized AJ had collapsed next to him, his body swaying, barely able to stay upright as he clung onto him.

Wild-eyed, AJ seemed in a state of shock, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps as he fought to control his trembling body.

“Brian. . . Brian,” he said finally, his voice filled with fear as he stared at his hand that was still latched tightly onto Brian’s shoulder. “I understand. I understand now. I saw her too.”