Chapter 18

“D?” Brian tried, looming over his friend’s listless body.

A.J. pushed him back slightly. “Let him breathe,” he said distractedly. He took Brian’s place hovering over his best friend nervously, hardly allowing more breathing space than Brian had.

Brian glared at A.J. sarcastically. But before a jibe could exit his mouth, he saw Howie slowly open his eyes.

A.J. tensed. “Hey buddy, you okay?” he asked softly.

Howie’s eyes were bleary and unfocused, but as soon as A.J.’s spoke, his senses seemed to sharpen. Weakly, he opened his mouth to groan, but all that came out was a breath of silence. He rubbed his throat in confusion. Then he flinched.

To make sure Howie didn’t unknowingly irritate the arm Kevin had injected the coglyceride into, Brian reached over and held Howie’s wrist to the couch.

A.J. frowned in growing anxiety. “D? Say something, bro,” he pleaded.

Howie opened his mouth again, but nothing came out. His eyes widened in abject terror.

“He can’t talk!” Brian cried.

A.J. spun around to scowl fiercely at Nick. “You killed his voice again!”

Nick hesitated, apparently realizing he was standing on very thin ice and had to be careful if he wanted to live through the night. “It’ll wear off, I promise.”

A.J. let out a breath he probably didn’t realize he had been holding and for Howie, he forced a weary, relieved smile. He reached over and grabbed Howie’s hand. Howie looked up at him and slowly smiled. “It’s gone,” he whispered, his voice slightly scratchy. “I can’t feel it.”

Brian tilted his head curiously. “Feel what?”

“The trinicerite.”

“You feel okay?” A.J. questioned quietly, squeezing his hand nervously.

Howie nodded vaguely. “Better, yeah.” His complexion paled a few shades. He unknowingly tightened his grip on A.J.’s hand. “Where’s…”

Kevin glanced behind him and moved to the right, exposing their youngest band mate to Howie’s field of vision. Instead of the several different reactions out of fear that his band mates expected, Howie surprised them all and his eyes instead hardened and turned to ice. There was little to no sympathy or forgiveness in his eyes.

“D, listen, it wasn’t his fault,” Brian said quickly, recognizing the accusation in Howie’s eyes.

Howie struggled to sit up, in the end having to be practically lifted by A.J. and Kevin. He ignored Brian and instead glared fiercely at Nick. Howie’s former empathy and regret seemed to die away on the spot. A.J. sat down next to him and tried to ignore the severe vibes emanating from his best friend. He chose not to notice that Howie was shaking in fury.

All of them expected Howie to lash out at Nick in some wild, indecipherable language of anger. No one imagined he would start crying.

Partially shocked, A.J. hooked an arm around Howie’s shoulders, keeping his eyes away from Nick, afraid that if he did look, he would send undesirable mixed signals. He didn’t know whether or not he blamed Nick for what happened to Howie. He knew he was angry with Nick and he wanted to yell and kick his ass for trying to kill Howie, but unfortunately, there was another side of him telling him Nick had done what he did under the influence of some inner voice and a very manipulative mental illness.

Seeing the extremely negative response Nick’s mere presence was inflicting on Howie, Brian grabbed his younger friend’s shirt and dragged him from the room. Kevin sat on Howie’s other side and tried to console him. A.J. kept quiet, only squeezing his grasp on Howie every now and then to comfort and reassure him while Kevin said the heartening words A.J. was thinking of saying.

Howie was still drained from all the chemicals swirling around inside his body, and after a few minutes of crying (which only sucked up the last of his newly shortened supply of energy), A.J. felt Howie’s body lean against his chest and in a few short moments, Howie was asleep.

A.J. gave Kevin an expressionless look. What now? Howie would be all right physically eventually, after time allowed his body to recover from the intense dosage of trinicerite. But they wondered, could he ever forgive Nick after all the kid had done to him? And what of Nick? What would become of him? The last thing A.J. wanted at the moment was for Nick to be imprisoned for something he wasn’t entirely responsible for. But it looked like that might have to be a possibility at the moment.

Kevin sighed. “I don’t know,” he said, reading A.J.’s mind. “We’ll just have to do whatever we can to make this easier for both of them. They’ll make up eventually.”

But A.J. wasn’t so easily convinced. “Nick, whether or not he did it on purpose, tried to kill Howie. What are the police going to say about that?” Howie frowned as A.J.’s loud shouting pierced his slumber. A.J. lowered his voice. “They’ll put him in a criminally insane ward!”

“They will?”

A.J. and Kevin jumped in surprise, whirling around to see Nick standing in the doorway, his eyes lost and petrified.

Brian walked in, stopping instantly as he sensed the staleness in the room. Some telepathic message from Nick brought his attention to his younger friend. “What happened?” He looked at A.J. to see Howie sleeping against him. His eyes widened slightly. “What happened?” he asked again, his voice a bit higher pitched.

A.J. shook his head, denying Brian’s silent jump to conclusions. “Howie’s fine. He’s just sleeping.”

Nick whimpered quietly. “Am I really gonna go to a criminally insane ward?”

No one spoke.

“You might have to, Nick,” Kevin said heavily.

Nick’s eyes widened. “But-but you guys know it’s not my fault! Not really!”

“Of course we do, Nick,” Brian sighed. “But we can’t prove anything. You stopped taking the medicine last year. I mean, without that stuff we don’t have much. Does anyone else know about this? The doctor who prescribed the medicine?”

Nick shook his head. “I-I can’t remember where we were at the time… I didn’t think of it.” His eyes turned pleading. “Do you have to tell them it was me? I mean, can’t we just…just…”

“Just what?” Brian’s eyes melted at the sight of Nick’s terror. “We might not have to, but it’ll come out somehow, someday.” He smiled a bit, weakly. “Remember what my mom says? If you tell one lie, you’ll have to tell a bunch of others to get out of the first. You don’t want to start lying, Nick. Besides, if we can prove somehow that you’re bipolar, you may only get sent somewhere where you can get help.”

Nick saw the hard truth through Brian’s pretty flowery words. “A clinic for narcotics.” It was a statement, not a question.

A.J. raised an eyebrow. “You’re narcotic too?”

Nick paused. “Wait, what’s narcotic again?”

A.J. bit back a sarcastic comment and said calmly, “Drug abusers, Kaos.”

Nick’s mouth parted into a giant gaping hole. “Nuh uh! I ain’t on drugs!” he cried.

Kevin smirked, amused. “Then why’d you say it?”

Nick pouted. “Shut up. It sounded right in my head,” he snapped irritably.

Before A.J. could give one of the thousands of comments swirling in his mind (the first being the odd coincidence that almost everything in Nick’s head sounded right until verbalized), Howie stirred slightly, frowning in his sleep.

“Shh!” A.J. hissed. “Don’t wake him up, he’ll be a regal pain to shut up if you piss him off.” He smiled lopsidedly. “And, er, Nick, you’re not exactly on his good side right now.”

“B-but he doesn’t know!” Nick protested in his own defense.

A.J. nodded. “So we’ll tell him. But chances are he won’t listen at first.”

Kevin and Brian nodded their agreement.

Nick groaned and flopped down onto the couch. “Great,” he grumbled.

They waited for something to happen or at least a sign from God or someone in power telling them what they were supposed to do. They felt like they were supposed to be doing something, but what exactly, they couldn’t figure out.

Nick suddenly moaned.

“What’s wrong?” Brian asked instantly, eyes alert.

Nick shook his head. “I…I dunno, I just have a headache.”

Brian frowned slightly. “Does that have anything to do with – ” he hesitated “ – you know?”

A.J. rolled his eyes. “Bipolar isn’t a fuckin’ curse, Brian.”

Brian glared at him dryly. “I think I know every curse known to mankind living with you for almost nine years.”

A.J. whistled. “Damn. Eight years. Imagine.”

However, none of them had time to, as Howie began to come around. Yawning, Howie ran a hand through his hair and stretched, still leaning against A.J. lazily. He shut his eyes and leaned his head back against A.J.’s shoulder.

A.J. rolled his eyes. “I’m a mattress. Well. That shows my life accomplishments.” He smirked when Howie jabbed him in the ribs with his elbow. “And now I’m all group-oriented with a black ‘n blue mark on my chest.”

Howie glared back at him. “Shut up. Mattresses don’t talk.”

A sardonic, deadpan look claimed A.J.’s face. “Right, sorry.” He sulked. “Ya know what? Get off. You’re using me and you’re heavy.”

Howie grinned and sat up completely, instead leaning his back against the back of the couch. “Not really. Using you would require energy and actual interest in using you.” He smirked at his friend smugly. “And no offense, bro, but I don’t really care…at all.”

A.J.’s jaw dropped. “Well there’s gratitude for ya.”

Howie paused, his eyes narrowing. “Wait, what do you mean heavy?!”

A.J. smirked. “Well, not heavy per se… Maybe just a tad over a metric ton when you’re sleeping…”

Howie laughed and grinned at him, knowing very well that A.J. was only kidding. After all, A.J. did value his life more than a sarcastic dig. Then he saw Nick. And then he scowled, but he didn’t speak.

Nick bit his lip furiously, thinking frenziedly for something apologetic that didn’t sound forced or slipshod. He wanted to sound sincere and truly rueful, but not dramatic and flowery. The thought of just saying “I’m sorry” never crossed his mind. Nor did the idea of telling Howie he was cursed with the bipolar disease. It might have cleared things up between them pretty fast. Unfortunately, things were never that easily solved in their world.

Instead, Nick said nothing and paid dearly for it.

Howie turned his head away, staring at the wall. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out he was considering disownment pretty tenaciously. Nick may not have been a brother by blood, but along with the rest of his band mates, Nick was deemed to be just as close as a brother to Howie. Or at least, he had been, once upon a time…

“Howie, listen to me…” Nick said quietly.

Howie glared at him, fire in his eyes. “No,” he growled. “You listen.”

Nick shut his mouth, eyes wide in apprehension.

Waiting until he was sure Nick was going to remain silent, Howie finally said, very calmly and quietly, “I don’t blame you for thinking what happened to A.J. was my fault.” He paused, his eyes falling dim without a spark to keep them alive. “It probably is.”

“Howie–”

“No, Aje, it’s true,” Howie interrupted. “Just shut up for a minute.” He fixed his gaze on Nick. “But I can’t believe what you tried to do…” Once again, tears were quickly forming in his eyes. “Why would you want to kill me?” He shook his head. “I would have listened to you if you tried to talk to me…”

No one spoke, Nick included. The blonde sat still, not trusting his voice or his judgment in words enough to deny what he was saying. Inside, he was screaming no, no, I don’t think it’s your fault! D, I’m sorry, I am! But openly he only sat there, on the couch, silently, shaking his head in disagreement.

Howie’s eyes turned icy. “I–” He shut his mouth and looked away. “I can’t even look at him,” he said quietly. He laid his forehead on A.J.’s shoulder, closing his eyes. “Get him out of here,” he whispered.

None of his friends were anxious to withhold anything from him, so Kevin gave Nick a helpless look and nodded towards the door. Nick hung his head. He knew he was doing more harm than good by staying, and he didn’t blame Howie for hating him. He deserved it. He got up and headed for the door. Brian followed. Nick hesitated in the doorway.

“I’m sorry, Howie,” he said softly.

“Fuck you!” Howie cried, keeping his eyes shut. “Just leave.”

Nick nodded even though Howie couldn’t see him and left, wiping a tear away feverishly.

<~*~>

Brian’s gaze followed him all the way to the table, and even then, knowing Nick wasn’t going to go anywhere, his eyes remained on his younger band mate as if he expected him to say something. Nick ignored him.

Seeing no alternative, Brian cleared his throat, deciding to initiate conversation if Nick wouldn’t. “What're you gunna do now?”

Nick shook his head. “No idea.” He smiled sadly. “Don’t really think it depends on me anyway, Frick.”

Brian sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

Brian shrugged. “Everything. I mean… I should have been there for you last year. I was so wrapped up in everything I don’t think I ever took the time to hang out with you. I’m sorry, buddy.” He looked beseechingly at his best friend. What had happened? Frick and Frack had grown apart and somehow the link that held them together had broken. How had this happened? Brian didn’t remember.

And Nick didn’t answer.

<~*~>

“Now what?” Howie asked after a while. He leaned his head against the couch and shut his eyes. “I can’t believe…” He cut himself off, shaking his head wearily. They knew he couldn’t believe it. They didn’t need to hear it four thousand times for it to be clear. But he was still in shock. Nicky, his little brother almost, had tried to murder him. Murder. There was no way to sweet-talk Nick out of this. There was no way Howie could try and forgive him, excuse him. Murder was a sin even if it had been a failed attempt. But that wasn’t the point.

Nick never should have “attempted” to begin with.

Kevin answered him with another question. “Are you okay?”

Biting back several sarcastic answers he had picked up from Nick and A.J. over the years, Howie gave in and nodded slowly. He didn’t want to be sardonic. It was too much of a chore, and – more importantly – it reminded him of Nick. Nick was quickly becoming his least favorite person.

But Kevin was unconvinced. “Are you sure?”

Howie turned his head slightly. “What, you mean emotionally or physically?” he asked quietly.

“Both,” Kevin said with a fraction of a smile.

Shutting his eyes, Howie drew his legs up to his chest and leaned his chin on his kneecaps. “Well, then no and yeah, I’m fine.” He sighed.

A.J. gave Kevin a “well?” look, as if he expected Kevin to lead them from there. After all, Kevin was their “big brother”, wasn’t he supposed to be in charge? In return, Kevin shot him an urging look. A.J. blinked, taken aback. What did Kevin expect him to do?

“Tell him,” Kevin mouthed, glowering at his younger band mate as if he were mentally disabled.

Oh. That’s what, A.J. thought dryly. “Um, D?”

Howie glanced at him, resting his temple on his kneecaps. “What?” he mumbled, clearly not in the mood to talk.

Too fuckin’ bad. A.J. hesitated. How was he going to say this without shocking him? “Nick has bipolar.” Give me a choice of a, b, or c and I choose d, A.J. thought sarcastically.

Howie’s eyes dilated. “What? Are you serious?”

A.J. nodded. “Yeah.” And he and Kevin proceeded to tell Howie the complete story, or at least the fragments of the complete story that they knew from Nick and Brian and their own experience.

It wasn’t until Kevin and A.J. had finished their long bits and pieces of the story that they realized just how many holes were in it. But that would have to be taken care of later, after they knew where they were headed with this. Howie was taking liberties with his rediscovered ability of speechlessness, gaping first at A.J., then Kevin, then back at A.J. And then, just to stir things up a bit, the floor.

“I can’t believe it,” Howie whispered, obviously dumbfounded. “Well…I…” He broke off, shaking his head. He looked to Kevin. “What now?” he asked softly.

Kevin paused. “Well,” he drawled, “we don’t know much more than you do now, D.” He smiled vaguely. “We didn’t even know who it was before tonight.”

Howie bit his lip nervously. “Think Nicky’s mad at me?” he queried anxiously. “If I’d known–”

“Do not start with ‘ifs’, Howie,” A.J. snapped. He softened his tone after seeing the wince flash across Howie’s face. “Look, Nick has issues…” Howie snorted. “Shut up, you know what I mean. But we have to help him through this. Just like we helped you and you guys helped Brian and me when he went into surgery… Right Kev?”

Kevin nodded in agreement. “He’s right, God save us.” He grinned wryly.

A.J. chucked a pillow at him. “Damn you, this is supposed to be sentimental and inspiring, Kevin.” He scowled. “You’re not helping.”

Kevin smirked. “Sorry I ruined your ‘inspiration’, Howie,” he said with a straight face.

“Kev-in!”

Kevin rolled his eyes. “Excuse me, Alex. You may continue being ‘sentimental and inspiring’.”

A.J. grinned. “Good.” But by the time he had turned back to Howie to finish his speech, Howie was in hysterics, almost crying with laughter. A.J. crossed his arms over his chest. “Fine then. You can just stay depressed and lost, I’m not going to do anything.”

Kevin did.

“OW! Damn, what’s in those pillows? Rocks!?”

<~*~>

When Nick and Brian reentered the room, neither Nick nor Howie dared look at each other, both fearing that the other would bite his head off. Brian, Kevin and A.J. exchanged worried looks. This was going too far. Nick needed help, but first he needed amnesty from Howie.

“I’m goin’ to bed,” Howie said quietly. He didn’t wait for someone to object. He was gone before anyone could remember his power of speech.

Nick hung his head. “Is he pissed?” he muttered.

“No,” A.J. said, leaning back into the couch with his arms still folded. He watched Nick expectantly.

“Huh? What?” Nick blinked. “Why’re you lookin’ at me like that?”

A.J. glared at him. “He’s not pissed. He thinks you hate him.” His gaze softened. “Look, Nick. I know you need help, bro, but at least settle this shit with Howie before you do. It’ll help the rest of us stop worrying about him and you.”

Kevin and Brian nodded their consent.

“But he hates me,” Nick argued weakly. In truth, it was easy to see the blonde was stalling.

“He doesn’t hate you,” Kevin and A.J. said in unison. Neither sounded very sympathetic.

Brian shot a glare at them and rested a hand on Nick’s shoulder. “Listen, he’s been through a lot and this is a shock to him. To all of us, really… You can’t expect him to take it that well considering you did try to kill him – whether or not you meant to,” he added hastily, seeing Nick open his mouth to defend himself.

Nick nodded slowly. “I…guess,” he said haltingly. With his three band mates’ stares on him, he sighed loudly and said, “Okay, all right. I’ll go.” They were still staring. He blinked. “What, now?”

A.J. rolled his eyes. “No, your birthday. Move dumbass.”

Shooting A.J. a lethal glare, Nick disappeared from the room.

“Think he’s going to apologize?” Kevin asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

“No,” answered A.J. and Brian unenthusiastically.

<~*~>

The next morning, everyone in the house was awake before six. Each of them lay in bed, unwilling to face whatever the day was filled with.

On his back, Nick stared up at the ceiling, hands crossed behind his head. The window was open and a few birds were warbling cheerily, greeting the morning. Nick wondered how effective shutting the window would be. He had a very strong urge to throw something at those birds. It was not a happy day, and their singing was only taunting him.

He hadn’t talked to Howie last night. What did A.J., Kevin and Brian expect him to say? “I’m sorry for trying to kill you, it was just the loony voices in my head”? That would go over real great.

Nick shut his eyes, wishing the past year had never happened. He was exhausted mentally from fighting inner battles against whatever was taking over his emotions and now Howie probably hated him. He didn’t blame him. Nick would never forgive himself as it was. Had Howie really died, he didn’t know what he would have done.

He didn’t know why the voice was letting him take control of himself for so long. Throughout the year he only had real control of his actions for a few hours at most. Then he’d vanish from the public eye or his friends’ circle and mope or sulk in his hotel room, plotting his “revenge” against Howie.

“What did I do to deserve this?” he whispered. “I never wanted to hurt him. I knew it wasn’t his fault…” He sighed. “I’m fucked up.”

And fucked, the voice agreed.

<~*~>

Brian wandered down into the kitchen to find, to his surprise, Howie and Kevin already standing near the other side of the room, seemingly deep in conversation. Kevin had his back to the door Brian had come through and Howie’s lower back was leaned against the counter, his arms lightly crossed across his stomach and his eyes trained on Kevin thoughtfully. Brian wanted to back out of the room and let them continue, but Howie saw him. He didn’t smile.

“Morning, Brian,” he said softly, drawing Kevin’s attention to the doorway.

Brian entered the kitchen completely, a heavy feeling tugging at his heart. He looked from his cousin’s face to Howie’s, suspicious as to why neither Kevin nor Howie was smiling and why both of them looked so morose.

“What’s the matter?” Brian asked, his heart beginning to pound a few beats faster.

Howie glanced at Kevin beseechingly.

Kevin sighed, rubbing his temples. “Nick’s gone.”