Brian and Me

Okay all, here's the next part. I thought that, since it was written, I would post it in celebration of my recent move. Hope you enjoy it!

Before we get to the good stuff, there are a few things to take care of. Many of you will undoubtedly skip all of this and go right to the story, and shame on you! :)

First, this story is a complete work of fiction. All (and I mean all) of the characters are just that - characters. It is not meant to imply anything about anyone. While a few of the characters are loosely based on people that I actually know, none of them are meant to represent anyone. While we may wish that some of the Backstreet Boys are gay, and while some of them may even be gay, I'm not going to be the one pointing the finger at them.

As usual, if you are offended or made uncomfortable by material concerning sexual relations between consenting adult men, lighten up or go somewhere else. And if you are such a person, what the hell are you doing here in the first place?

Also, if it is in any way illegal for you to be reading this type of thing, please don't. Or do, just don't get caught and feel very guilty.;)

If any of the BSB happen to be reading this (hey, we can dream can't we?), feel free to drop me a line and let me know what you think.

Here's where I usually go ahead and thank certain readers for their comments and support. However, since I always manage to forget someone, I'm going to stop that. Those who are special to me already know who they are, and if you're wondering whether or not you're one of them, chances are you are. :)

I will take a moment to point out the few stories that I make time to read, in between bursts of writing. If you haven't already, check out "Adam, Zach, and BSB" by EG, "Search and Rescue" by Matt, and "Lucky Me" by Lauren. All three are great stories, and all three authors have become good friends of mine. :)

I am going to single out two people. My editors, who both go a long way to restore my faith in humanity when it's shaken. EG has been incredibly helpful with his comments and humour, and is just all-around fun to talk to. :) And JB's the first person that I met through this story, and one of the biggest reasons that I'm glad I posted it in the first place. He's just so gosh-darn adorable. :P

Okay then, enough of my blabbering for now. As always, comments and suggestions are more than welcome. Drop me a line at dls_stories@hotmail.com

Enjoy!

PART 57

"Nate! Wake up!" Andrea said, shaking me almost violently.

My eyes flew open and the last vestiges of the dream slipped away from my vision. Andrea was still shaking me a little, and I placed my hand on hers to let her know that she could stop.

I could feel the trickles of sweat moving down my forehead, and the ticklish feeling as it beaded on my back and shoulders.

My first thought was that it was entirely too bright in the room. "What time is it, Andy?" I asked groggily, putting my head in my hands.

She looked at me for a moment and then checked her watch. "Almost two in the afternoon."

"I've been asleep all day?" I asked, looking up at her.

She nodded. "You didn't seem to want to get up, and after the last couple of days, I figured you were drained, so I let you sleep. Once you started to scream, I had to wake you up. Are you okay? Was it the same one as before?"

"Yeah," I answered, wiping my face with the back of my hand. Andrea saw this and got up from the sofa-bed. She returned a minute later with a cool wet facecloth from the bathroom and started to wipe my brow. "Was I really screaming?"

"Like a banshee," Andrea said, running the cool cloth over my neck and pulling off my shirt.

"Was I just screaming, or was I speaking?"

"You screamed a couple of times, then you started yelling," she replied, giving me a look of concern as she ran the cloth down over my shoulder and across my back.

"What was I yelling, Andy?"

She looked at me again, as though she was uncertain that I really wanted to hear it, then continued to wipe my back.

"Andy," I said. "I have to know. This could help me figure them out."

Andrea took a deep breath and then sighed and nodded. "You screamed a couple of times. Nothing coherent, just... anguish, I guess is the only way to describe it. And then you said 'You're dead. I abandoned you, you're dead.' And a second later, just when it looked like you were calming down, you screamed 'Why can't you leave me alone?' That's when I had to wake you up. You gave me quite a scare."

I tried to think back to the dream, but couldn't hold onto any images from it. The only thing that I knew for sure was that Andrea had woken me before I had reached the part about pushing Brian away from me. "And you... you couldn't tell who I was talking to?"

Andrea shook her head. "You didn't mention any names, just that whoever it was you had pushed away, and then the scream to leave you alone. You don't know who you could have been talking to?"

"No," I admitted. "But I don't think it was Brian. I didn't get to the part of the nightmare where I push him away. Who else could it be, though?"

"I don't know, sweetie," she said, folding the cloth and running it over my forehead again.

"Why can't I remember the rest of it?" I asked angrily, slamming my hand down on the mattress with a thump.

"Just relax and let it come back to you, Nate," Andrea soothed, putting her hand on my knee. "If you try to force it, you'll probably just make it harder to remember."

I nodded absently, knowing that she was right, but still frustrated with myself. "I've just got to remember it Andy. If I can't remember it, I'll never figure it out."

"Then you'll remember," Andrea said. "Now why don't you go and get a shower, and then we'll get some food into you and try to talk this out."

With a sigh, I nodded my agreement and climbed off of the mattress. I turned around and made as if to straighten the sheets and fold it back up, but Andrea placed her hand on my shoulder and turned me back around. "You go get cleaned up, I'll get this out of the way."

I gave her a smile and headed for my room to get my robe and towel. Once I had them, I checked myself in the mirror on my dresser, taking note of the sweat-dampened hair and the too-large eyes. I reached my hand up and flattened the hair a little, but the lost quality that I saw in my eyes spooked me.

Turning away from my image, I exited the room and walked down the hall to the bathroom. Andrea's head peeked around the corner of the living room doorway. "Bath or shower, I don't care, but I want you to relax, and I don't want to see you for at least half an hour."

I grinned at her mother-like worry, and even more at the indignation that she would show if I was to tell her that she was behaving like a mother, and promised not to show myself for at least thirty minutes.

Closing the door behind me, I hung my robe up on the back of the door and threw my boxers in the clothes hamper. Hanging my towel beside the shower, I turned the water on.

While I waited for it to warm up (old building - it took a moment), I turned to the sink and grabbed my toothbrush. Trying to avoid looking at the frightened man in the mirror, I quickly brushed my teeth and stepped back to the tub.

Once I was convinced that I was neither about to scald nor freeze myself, I stepped inside and pulled door closed behind me. As the water cascaded down over my body, I felt myself relax a little. At first, I was afraid that my comfort would only serve to push the nightmare even further away, but after a moment of internal deliberation, I realised that it was probably already gone, so I let myself enjoy the feeling.

I quickly managed to wash and condition my hair, even taking their advice and lathering, rinsing, and repeating, and still had lots of time before I could safely get out of the shower. I leaned against the side of the stall, waiting until my time was up.

Surprisingly, I found myself drifting off to sleep. Catching myself just before my feet fell out from under me, I decided that time or not time, I had to get out or risk cracking my skull open when I fell.

I was just reaching out for the handle to shut the water off when I had an idea. Leaving the shower running, I opened the door just enough for me to squeeze out, then closed it again. If I was careful not to make any noise, Andrea wouldn't even know I was out yet.

I grinned to myself and dried off, taking my robe from the hook on the door and putting it on, enjoying the softness against my skin. I made a note to pack the robe when I went back on tour with Brian. I then made another note to pick one up for him, or he'd just constantly be stealing mine.

Using the side of my hand, I wiped the condensation from the mirror and checked my hair. I still hadn't gotten it cut, but I was starting to like the way it was looking. I was finally getting out of the shaggy stage, and it didn't look half bad. Running my fingers through it a few times for good measure, I smiled at the much more normal image that greeted me.

Checking the clock on the wall, I noted that my time was up, so I went and turned the shower off, being careful not to soak the sleeve of my robe. I smiled at my deviousness, and opened the bathroom door to find Andrea standing there with a frown.

"When I say half an hour, I mean half an hour," she said. "Not twenty minutes, and then get out and leave it running."

I looked at her in shock. "How did you know?"

"First of all, I heard you open the shower door ten minutes ago. Second, the water makes an entirely different sound when it's hitting a body than it does when it's hitting the wall." She grinned, obviously pleased with herself.

"You need to get out more, honey," I laughed, brushing past her and heading for my room. "Besides, I was getting so relaxed I was falling asleep on my feet. You wouldn't want me to fall in the shower and break a hip, would you?"

Andrea sighed. "No, I wouldn't. That would mean I would have to come in there and be subjected to seeing you naked."

"We both know you want me," I said with a grin.

"In your dreams," she answered, then put her hand to her mouth. "Sorry about that," she mumbled into her palm.

"It's okay," I said, smiling. "Now I'm going to go get dressed. You want to come watch?"

"I think I'll skip the three o'clock show, actually," she laughed. "It always leaves me feeling vaguely unsatisfied."

"Just don't ask for your money back," I said, my smile expanding into a full-fledged grin. "Once it's in the g-string, it's mine."

"Just go get dressed," Andrea said, trying not to laugh. "And while you're doing that, I'm going to run out and get a few groceries. The three of us have pretty much depleted Erron's stores."

I nodded my agreement. "Need some money?"

"Got lots, thanks," Andrea grinned. "No need for you to dig some out of your underwear."

I waved my hand at her, telling her to go away, then laughed and entered my bedroom. Andrea called out a goodbye as I was closing the door of the room.

Dropping the robe to the floor, I walked to the dresser and opened the top drawer, digging through the socks to find another pair of boxers. Once I had them on, I grabbed a pair of dark green jeans and a black t-shirt out of the closet and put them on.

Once I was fully dressed, I sat down on the bed and grabbed the photo Andrea had given me. Looking at Brian and I, I was surprised to find that the tears didn't come this time. I put my fingertips on Brian's image, wishing that I could really be touching him.

"I wouldn't push you away," I whispered, running my fingers over the side of the frame. "No matter what, I wouldn't push you away."

'But that's just what you've been doing,' another voice spoke up in my head. I didn't recognise this one, and I was seriously starting to wonder how many people lived inside me. 'That's all you've been doing.'

"No," I whispered, looking absently out the window at the head of my bed. "I had to leave him."

'That doesn't mean that you didn't push him away. It's not always a bad thing,' the voice supplied. I knew that I should have recognised it, but I couldn't make the face or name come to my mind.

I looked back down at the picture for a moment, looking at how happy the two of us had been in that moment. "Just because I pushed him doesn't mean that I can't pull him back," I said quietly to the room, waiting for the response. But there wasn't one. Whether or not that meant that I had come to the point that my brain was making, I didn't know.

Putting the picture back on my bedside table, I thought briefly of calling Brian, but I held myself back. Instead, I got up from the bed and left the room, winding up in the living room.

Andrea had folded the mattress back into the couch. Sitting down, I tried to figure out just what I was going to do. I still wasn't remembering anything more about the nightmare, and didn't feel any closer to getting back to Brian.

I was about to curse in frustration when I happened to glance at the top of the television cabinet. There was a short, fat candle sitting there. Remembering how the nightmare had intruded on my mind the first time I had tried looking for answers on the balcony in Santa Fe, I got up and took it down.

Setting it on the coffee table, I found a book of matches stuck down inside the candle holder that it was sitting on. Striking one, I lit the candle and waited until the flame had grown and was steady, then blew out the match, setting it down on the side of the holder.

I sat back on the couch, bringing my legs up until I was sitting with them folded under me, and rested my hands on my knees, staring into the flickering flame of the candle and trying to clear my mind.

As my eyes started to close, I concentrated on the only image that I was comfortable with from the dream. Brian's face swam into my mind as my eyes firmly shut, and the afterimage of the candle flame danced across the backs of my eyelids.

I continued taking deep breaths until my breathing became shallow and slow and the image of Brian solidified in my mind. I could almost feel the calmness fold over me and the stress leave my body.

Slowly, Brian's face began to change as I watched it. I started to panic, thinking that it wasn't working, but I soon realised that I wasn't losing the image, but changing it into someone else. It took me a moment as the nose sharpened and the face became more square to realise who it was.

Watching as the hair coursened and darkened, and the eyes changed from blue to brown, I gasped in the empty room, and the figure solidified once more. "Jack," I whispered, knowing that this was where it started.

Jack started to speak, and while I couldn't hear what it was he said, I knew regardless. He was telling me that I was in trouble. It wasn't a warning, but a threat, and my heart began to speed up. Looking into his eyes, I could see a mixture of anger and fear that only scared me more.

Watching Jack's thin frame move away from me, I realised that we were standing in the living room of the apartment that I had grown up in. My academic awards that my parents had been so proud of were sitting on the mantlepiece, as were several framed newspaper clippings. It was night out, and I could clearly see our reflections in the windows that made up one wall of the room.

Jack came to my side and stood admiring the trophies, ribbons, and clippings for a moment. I felt the smile come to my face as I thought about how often my parents had shown their friends and business associates the collection on the mantle. Showing off their son, and themselves in the process.

Looking at me for a moment, Jack reached out and swept the mantle clear, sending everything to the floor with a crash that I could sense but not hear. I rushed over and picked up one of the framed clippings, moving the broken glass so that I could read the headline: "#1 Son" it read. It was an article about a Mother's Day poem that I had won a contest for.

Jack turned his back on me and walked through the glass doors, out onto the balcony, and I seemed helpless to keep myself from following. Dropping the frame again, I joined him outside. The lack of wind was eerie, and I felt a shiver move up and down my spine.

As I approached Jack again, he jumped over the railing and out into the night, sending my heart into my throat. I looked out over the rail, trying to see him, when I felt the floor shift around me and found myself standing beside him once again, looking down at myself as I cried in the corner of my bedroom. I remembered this scene all too well.

I was about to reach out to myself, whether to offer some comfort or a warning of things to come, I don't know. Before I could touch the trembling shoulder, Jack moved again, stealing my attention.

Jack turned and walked through the door that led to the main hallway of the apartment. Following him, I instead found myself alone and standing in the middle of a circle of light. Turning in all directions, I could only see for a few meters each way. The rest was lost in the darkness, as though I was being illuminated by a streetlight, but there was none.

I walked to the edge of the light and cautiously stuck my hand out into the darkness. It was as though I had cut it off. My hand swam into the void and disappeared past the wrist. With a jerk, I pulled my hand back, inspecting it for damage. Relief swept over me as I realised that it was fine, and I turned back to walk to the middle of the light again, trying to get away from the darkness around me.

I hadn't taken a step when a figure stepped into the circle of light directly opposite me. As they came closer, I was able to recognise them. It was Andrea. She was looking at me and smiling, yet she stopped just inside the circle, holding her hands up to stop me from coming to her.

I stood watching her as two shadowy figures emerged from behind her. I tried to warn her, but she just smiled and held her hands out. Mom stepped out into the light and took one of them and Dad took the other, coming to stand beside her. Both offered me sympathetic and loving smiles.

Gradually, more figures started to join them. I recognised a few people from my later high school years, close friends who had stood by me when I needed them. Erron and a few other friends from university also emerged.

A smaller shape started to coalesce in front of Andrea, not walking out of the shadows, but actually forming before my eyes. As the body took shape, Andrea released her parent's hands and placed them on the shoulders in front of her.

Robbie's smile immediately burst through, solidifying the rest of his body, and I felt myself grow weak in the knees. At one moment he was the little boy that I had first met, and the next he was the young man that I had watched grow out of that boy. I returned his smile, wishing that I could touch him, but everytime I tried to do so, Andrea put a hand out to tell me to stop.

Four more shadowy people stepped out into the circle of light, each of them wearing bright, welcoming smiles. Nick and Kevin were standing at the forefront, but AJ and Howie were directly behind them, and all four of them were watching me.

They all spoke a single word, but I couldn't catch either it or it's meaning. A second later, there was a bright flash of light, and then a glowing light floating about three feet off of the ground between Kevin and Nick.

The light started to come toward me, stretching and growing, gradually losing it's brilliance until Brian stood a few feet away from me, with his arms at his sides. He gave me a smile and a look of pure love, and I felt my head swim with the feeling he was sending me.

I was beginning to wonder if it was safe for me to step toward everyone when their attention was drawn away from me and into the vacant area of the circle. Had a triangle been drawn inside of it, I would have been at one point, Brian and the others at another. And now, we were all watching the third, waiting for whatever was to happen next.

Two more shadows detached themselves from the surrounding darkness and started to move forward. I felt a chill encompass my entire body as their features began to take shape.

My parents stepped forward into the light. In fact, they seemed to suck the light out of their surroundings, leaving myself and the others standing in an odd sort of twilight and causing themselves to almost glow from within. I watched as their eyes crawled across everyone else who was assembled there without emotion and finally settle on me.

The complete lack of emotion in their expressions sucked the breath out of my lungs, and I felt the first hot tears spring forth and fall down my cheeks. My parents made no move to encourage me to come to them, but I had to. There were so many things that I had to tell them. So many things that I needed to explain.

Taking a few steps forward, I ignored the intense looks of concern that spread across my friend's faces. I turned my back to them and continued to walk toward my parents, who made no move to encourage me, but also didn't stop me.

Coming to stand in front of them, I fell to my knees, burying my head in my hands and letting the tears come forth. Raising my head again, I saw the pair of them glimmering in the light through the tears. I reached out to grab my father's pantleg, but he silently moved his leg back, out of my reach.

I tried to touch my mother's foot, but she too moved to keep me from making contact. Looking up into their faces, I was further chilled by the icy stares that I saw there. Before I could implore them to hold me, which I was desperate to do, my father spoke, and I didn't just hear his voice, I was surrounded by it.

"You left us, son," he said, his voice booming. "You left us long before we left you."

"No," I whispered, trying unsuccessfully to grab him again. "No, I didn't..."

"You did," my mother answered, stepping forward a little. Her normally lyrical voice without a trace of emotion. "You abandoned us and everything we wanted for you."

"But I couldn't..." I tried, my tears falling freely.

"Excuses do no one any good!" my father yelled.

"It's not an excuse," I whimpered. "I couldn't help it."

My parents stood above me, looking down without care or pity. They seemed to be giving me no more attention than one would an ant that crossed their path. "Get up," my father said quietly, but it echoed in my ears.

I struggled to my feet and stood before the two of them. Their eyes seemed to pierce right through me. "I'm sorry," I cried. "I couldn't tell you!"

They continued to stare at me, neither one so much as flinching. "You left us," my mother repeated. "Long before we left you. And now you're on your own." She took my father's hand and they stepped back into the darkness, vanishing instantly.

I fell to the ground again, my anguished tears streaming down my face and onto the ground. Curling up and wrapping my hands around my knees, I continued to cry. After a moment, the light returned to the rest of the circle, and I heard someone clear their throat.

"Nate..."

I looked up to see Brian standing in front of the others. As I watched, he spread his arms out and I knew that there was somewhere I could go. Gathering up my courage, I stood and began to cut across the circle to get to him.

Just as I reached the centre of the circle, my parents images rose in front of me again, stopping me in my tracks and forcing me back a few steps.

"You're on your own," my mother's voice trailed out of the darkness.

I could see Brian on the other side of them, concern and love on his face as he continued to hold his arms out in welcome. Stepping to the side, I started around my parents. They stepped to the side to once again block my way, refusing to let me by.

All of the sadness and anger inside of me came forth, and I released a scream of fury and anguish, trying to force my way through them. Neither one of them stepped aside this time, but as soon as my hands touched them, my arms were numbed with cold.

"You pushed us away before," my father said, staring at me. "You won't do it again. This is all you have left." As he finished talking, they both took a step forward, forcing me back. They continued to walk toward me, forcing me inch by inch back toward the void that was surrounding us. The void from which they had emerged.

I edged closer and closer until the back of my feet were only an inch from the darkness, then with one last look at Brian in the distance, I summoned up all the courage I could and stood my ground. "You're dead. I abandoned you, you're dead." I said softly, looking from my father to my mother. Neither spoke, but they stopped approaching me. "Why can't you leave me alone!" I screamed, pushing against them.

They disappeared, sending me sprawling to the ground. Looking around me quickly, I couldn't see either one of them. With a sigh, I gained my feet once more and turned to look at Brian. The smile on his face spoke volumes, and I could see twin tear-tracks down his cheeks.

Looking past him, I saw the rest of my friends - now the only family I had. Each of them was smiling and as I watched, they stepped forward as well, opening their arms in welcome. But my gaze was drawn back to Brian. Of all of the others, I knew that he was the one I needed to get to. He was my saviour.

Brian matched my movements as I walked toward him, aiming to intercept me at the centre of the lit circle. Putting my arms out, I could feel my heart pounding in anticipation of his touch.

Just before our hands could touch and entwine, my mother's voice echoed again in the stillness, shattering the smile on my face. "You're on your own."

"No!" I screamed, throwing my hands out and placing them on Brian's chest. "I can't lose them again!" With a shove, I sent Brian flying backward, away from me, and turned back to the darkness behind me, where my parents had disappeared. "Please!" I called out, my voice full of longing. "Please come back to me!"

There was nothing but silence. I scanned the void, trying desperately to split the veil surrounding me. "Please!" Still getting no response, I turned back to face the others, who were all watching me with pained expressions. Brian was still falling away from me, seemingly in slow motion.

As I watched Brian fly out into the darkness, I realised that rather than swallow him, as it had my hand, it seemed almost to part, allowing him to go further, and allowing me to see it happen. Just before he got too far away to see, a blur, which I somehow recognised as my parents, raced after him. "We'll take him with us," I heard my father say as they slammed into Brian's image, obliterating it. The familiar sound of tearing metal screeched through my mind.

One by one, my friends stepped back out of the circle and into the void beyond once again, leaving me alone with my pain. Only Andrea remained, watching me with an overwhelming sadness in her eyes. I held my hand out to her, imploring her for comfort, but she remained where she was, though it obviously pained her to do so. Slowly, she turned as well and walked off into the darkness.

"No!" I screamed again, listening to the echo surround me and come pounding back, forcing me to my knees again.

PART 58

I opened my eyes with a start and glanced around the room, trying to determine how long I had been sitting there. The candle had obviously been burning for a little while, but not the hours that it had felt like.

Raising myself so that I could drop my feet back over the edge of the couch, I felt the pins and needles invade my legs and gasped, rubbing them to bring back the circulation. I leaned forward and blew out the candle, then sat back and ran my hand through my hair.

"Well, now I know," I said to the room. "Now what does it mean?"

Before I could continue my intriguing discussion with the still-smoking candle, I heard the key turn in the lock and Andrea come in.

"Nate?" she called out as she stepped into the kitchen. I heard her place several bags on the counter and then step toward the hallway to check my room.

"I'm in here, Andy," I said, just loud enough for her to hear.

She came into the room and looked at me with concern. "You okay?"

"Yes, no, I don't know, I think so," I said, shrugging. "I remembered the dream."

The colour drained from her face as she sat down.

I related the nightmare to her, trying to convey every detail and emotion that I could in order to make her understand how truly unsettling it was.

"And then I woke up," I said. "I think that I was wrong before, though. I thought I was waking up before the end of the dream, but I wasn't."

"Jesus, Nate," Andrea said, letting out a long-held breath. "No wonder you were waking up screaming. Everyone you loved was leaving you."

"But you stayed," I said. "Even after I turned my back on all of you, when I turned back, you stayed. It was like you wanted to help, but..." I trailed off as my brain kicked into gear and started to fit the pieces together one by one.

"Nate? What's going on?" Andrea sounded worried, and turned my head so that I was looking her in they eye.

"I think I know what's going on, Andy," I said, my lips breaking out into a grin. "I think I've got it. Or at least part of it."

"What are you talking about?"

"Think about it," I said hurriedly, making her sit beside me and taking one of her hands in mine. "I come back to the one place in the world that I've been hurt the most. This is where it all happened. That's not an accident, Andy."

"But you've already been through all of that yesterday. You stood up to that pain and worked through it. At least we thought you did. Do you think having the nightmare again means that you're not as ready as you thought?"

"In a way, I guess," I said. "But not the way you're thinking. I've faced almost every one of the demons from my past in this city. The school, the culvert where I used to go to hide from everything, everything that truly hurt me. Except for the biggest one of them all."

"Your parents."

"It makes sense, Andy," I said. "In the dream, we were in the living room of my parent's apartment, then in my bedroom in the same apartment. And then my parents show up in 'person' at the end of the dream. I came back to face my past, but I ignored a huge part of it. I forgot to face my parents."

"So you think that you came back here to mourn the loss of your parents?" Andrea asked.

"No, I came back to find them again. In the dream, they kept saying that I had left them before they left me. Think about that, Andy. It's true. I separated myself from them long before they were killed. To keep them from finding out the truth."

"But you had to," Andrea argued.

"I know that. It was the only thing that I could do to keep my sanity and to save my entire world from falling around me. But I did it. That's the important thing. And then I kept doing it. By the time they were killed, my relationship with them had deteriorated to the point where we nodded if we passed in the hall.

"That's what Jack was showing me," I continued. "The first time, in the living room of the apartment, he was showing what I had been. I was the '#1 Son.' But I destroyed that, bit by bit, when I pulled away from my parents.

"Then again when we were in my bedroom and I was crying in the corner. I could have asked my parents for help. They could have tried to comfort me and make things easier, but I didn't ask. Instead, I cut them off further so that they wouldn't find out about it."

"Nate..."

"No, let me finish this," I said, interrupting her. I could feel a certainty building in my mind with each word I said, and knew I was on the right track. "The last part, in the lighted circle. Everyone who came forward was a friend that I had made since then. They were people that I came to know and love after my parents were gone, or at least after I had given up on our relationship. A new family of sorts. A replacement family."

"So you're having nightmares because you feel like you're betraying your parents?"

I nodded. "Something like that. And it's true, to some extent. I'm not living the life they wanted me to. Nothing close to it. That's what she told me. She said that I had abandoned them and everything that they wanted for me. That's certainly true. They didn't want me to be a writer, and they sure as hell wouldn't have approved of my loving another man."

"But you were devastated when they died. You did everything you could to grieve them," Andrea said.

"Not everything," I said sadly, looking down at my hands. "You're right. I was devastated, for a lot of reasons. My world came crashing down around me, and I had to pick it back up piece by piece. But I forgot to pick them up and carry them with me. You see? That's why it took me so long to be able to connect with your parents. I felt like I was replacing them, and that's exactly what I was doing. I left my own parents behind, along with the life they wanted for me. I took the best part of them with me, but I left the worst, which is all we really had at the end."

"But look at the life you built for yourself!" Andrea said, rubbing my hand. "Look at the number of people who were there for you at the end. Me, Mom and Dad, Robbie, the guys, your friends from high school and university. Why would we suddenly just leave you in pain like that?"

"That's not what happened," I said. "You didn't leave me, I pushed you away. Just as surely as I did Brian. I abandonded everything I had just to appease my parents. I pushed away the life that they would have disapproved of to try and retain that one final tie to them."

"So you're having the nightmares because..."

"Because I'm taking that last, final step away from the life they had planned for me. They would have adjusted to my becoming a writer. It would have taken a while, and probably some yelling, but they would have accepted it. They would have accepted my going to U of T, and moving in with you, too. Probably would have even been hoping for some sparks between us," I added with a little smile.

"But," Andrea continued for me. "There wasn't a chance in hell that they would have accepted you being in a committed relationship with another man."

I nodded. "Think about it, Andy. I've told you about the bout of nightmares that I had after my parents died. I should have connected them sooner. The first time I had this dream was in Chicago, the night that I joined Brian on tour. I had it again after Brian's father came to us and tried to smooth things over. Everytime Brian and I take another step closer, or overcome some sort of obstacle in our way."

"That's only twice, though, Nate," Andrea pointed out.

"Let me finish," I said, my smile growing at the sight of her anticipation. "I had it again after we got to Santa Fe. Brian and I got closer on the plane ride there, not to mention a little 'rendezvous' before we left for the airport," I said with a smile. "Nick and I did a little bonding on the plane as well, which was a concern of Brian's. He really wanted us to get along.

"The last night I was in Santa Fe, the night that Brian and I had our first real arguement, I had it again. But that was after we got back from the club and I had forgiven Brian."

Andrea was nodding a little, seeing the pattern. "And then today, right after you managed to get to the point where you could talk to Brian about your past. That was a huge obstacle between you two."

"See what I mean? Every time I took another step toward being happy with Brian, I had the nightmares, until they finally drove me to leave him. Then I didn't have another one until today, after I had finally conquered the demons in my past and could commit to him again. That's why my father said that they would take him with them. Until I get past this, I can't fully commit to a life with Brian."

"So what are you going to do about it?"

"Well, first, I'm going to go for a walk and make sure that I have everything straight in my head," I said. "And then I'm going to go and see my parents."

"Nate..."

"Before you say it," I said, knowing what she was going to say. "No, I don't need you to come with me. There's only one person I would feel comfortable with being there, and he's a long way away. God, I wish Brian were here, Andy," I sighed, putting my head in my hand and resting my elbow on my knee.

"I know you do, sweetie," she said, rubbing my back. "But you're almost there, if you're right about all of this."

"I am," I said confidently, looking up at her. That feeling of certainty had solidified into a calmness, a sense of direction. "I don't know exactly how, but I know that this is what I have to do." My own words from earlier came back to me. "Just because I pushed them away doesn't mean that I can't pull them back."

"Then go," she said quietly, patting my knee. "Go and do what you have to." Andrea got up from the couch and stood, waiting for me to join her. "You might want to put on some socks, though," she laughed, pointing to my bare feet.

I looked down and smiled. "That's Brian's bad influence," I muttered as I stood. I headed for my room to find a pair of socks, then rejoined Andrea at the apartment door. Sliding my feet into my shoes, I grabbed my jacket as well. While it was only late afternoon, and still plenty warm, I didn't know how late I would be gone.

"Good luck hon," Andrea said, kissing me on the cheek and giving me a hug. "You're almost there."

I nodded against her as I returned the hug, then pulled open the door. "I don't know how long I'm going to be."

"Take whatever time you want," she said, holding the door as I stepped out into the hall. "I'm fine here, and Erron will probably be back in a couple of hours. Don't worry about me. I'll just go through your stuff looking for your diary."

That forced a genuine smile out of me. "I hid it under my mattress," I whispered conspiratorially.

Andrea winked at me and then stepped back inside the apartment, wishing me luck again as the door closed with a click.

PART 59

I spent the remainder of the afternoon wandering around Toronto. At first unsure of where I was going, I walked past my high school, but knew somehow that I was finished there. Turning right a couple of blocks north of the school, I had instead followed a very familiar route.

I came to a stop outside of the apartment building in which I had grown up. I stood on the front steps of the building, looking up at the smoothly painted sides and the tinted windows. There was a woman several floors up who stood at the railing of her balcony and watched me, probably to see if I was going to try to break into the place.

I gave her a smile and a wave, neither of which she returned, and stepped back a little, craning my neck up past where she stood, still watching me.

My eyes settled on the balcony for the apartment on the tenth floor, the one my parents had lived in. The memories came back in a flood, bringing tears to my eyes and leaving me feeling weak at the knees. Birthday parties, sleepovers, family dinners when my father was home. It seemed as though every happy memory washed over me in a span of a few seconds.

But then the other memories obliterated them. I remembered watching TV in the living room with Jack, crying in the corner of my room, my tear-streaked and frightened face in the mirror, the concerned looks on my parents' faces.

Wiping at my eyes, I glanced once again at the woman above me, who was still staring at me, and then looked down the street, trying to clear my mind of the images again. Knowing that I couldn't do anything constructive here, since I couldn't get inside the building, I turned away from it and started to walk slowly, putting it and the memories that it contained behind me.

I had gone from there and wandered for a couple of hours, aimlessly letting my feet take me where they would, and letting my mind wander as well. By the time I had finally settled myself down and gathered my courage again, I was ready to do what needed to be done.

Walking to the closest corner, I had flagged down a cab and given the driver the location. Ten minutes later I climbed out of the cab, paying the driver and thanking him. He gave me a smile and drove off, leaving me standing alone outside the huge wrought-iron gates.

Looking up, I saw the words "ROSEDALE VALLEY ROAD CEMETERY" printed across the arch. Steeling myself, I took a step forward and into the serenity which seems to eminate from cemeteries. Glancing around for a moment to get my bearings, I soon found the right direction and started to cross the grass.

Cresting the little knoll near the centre of the cemetery, I found myself looking down on the place where we had laid my parents to rest. Stopping for a moment, I thought back to the day that we had done so.

It had been a small service, but tasteful, which would have made my parents happy. They didn't have friends so much as acquaintances and associates, so the majority of the people there were virtual strangers to me. A few of my high school friends came to give me their support, and spent most of the day clustered around me and fussing about things, trying to make me more comfortable.

As the other mourners passed by, each offering their condolances, I had managed to nod and accept them without really paying much attention. A few of them I semi-recognised from dinner parties that my parents had thrown, but none of them really stood out. I had the overwhelming feeling that this was just another day for them, and that they were already thinking about who to give my father's clients to.

It had rained that morning, and I could remember that the one thing that kept running through my mind as I sat there, not really listening to the words that were said over them as they were lowered into the ground, was that all of these people were going to have wet shoes. As incongruous as that thought was, it was the one thing that I found myself able to fixate on.

While it had been a cool fall day, not even the chill in the air got through to me as I watched the caskets descend. In fact, it took one of my friends several tries to rouse me to tell me that it was time to leave. I tossed the single white rose onto the grave, right below the single headstone that marked both graves, and let her help me to my feet.

I had managed not to break down until we were in the car and going back to the apartment, where I knew that some of those at the service would stop by to offer their final condolances and tell me how sorry they were for my loss, thus allowing them to go back to business as usual without too much guilt.

My friends just held me and let me get the emotion out of my system. Later, one would tell me that she was glad to see me cry, since I had been keeping a tight rein on my emotions ever since I had identified the bodies.

By the time we had gotten back to the apartment, I had gained control again, and I managed to greet the few people who dropped by. None of them stayed very long, but that was fine with me. It was a relief, actually, not to have to keep acting like I thought they gave a damn.

My friends stayed much longer, trying to make sure that I was going to be all right, and obviously worried about leaving me alone after such a trying day. I had repeatedly assured them that I was okay, and finally succeeded in getting them to go home.

After they had gone, I stood in the living room for a time, looking over the accumulated items on the mantle. My memory served up pictures of the pride and happiness in the faces of my parents as each new item was placed there, and the enjoyment that they had each received from showing it off to their guests.

After I had examined each item, I had decided that it was finally time to go to bed. Sliding beneath the covers, I felt emotionally empty and alone, and it took me a long time to finally work up the courage to close my eyes. It took even longer before I managed to fall asleep.

All of these things came back to me as I watched the late-afternoon light play across the area below me. The cemetery was virtually surrounded by huge weeping willow trees, adding a sense of sorrow as well as beauty to the grounds. In the distance, I could see the large wrought-iron fence that ran the perimeter of the cemetery, supported periodically with large stone pillars.

Moving my gaze back to the area near the base of the small knoll on which I stood, I could see the single slab of stone standing proudly out of the grass, and realised that I hadn't been back since that day.

The realisation sent a shock through my body. 'Surely I've been here since then,' I thought, searching my memory. But no, I couldn't remember a single trip to this cemetery since I had laid my parents to rest.

I could, however, remember planning such trips. I had been going to visit their graves when I moved to LA, for instance, but scheduling and packing and arranging for the move had gotten in the way. At least, that was what I had told myself then. Now I wasn't so sure. Thinking back on it, I recalled several incidents when I had made plans to do it, but something had always come up, and I hadn't gone.

Feeling incredibly guilty, I came to a stop in front of the headstone, head down and my hands in my pockets. I shuffled about for a moment, suddenly unsure if I could handle this. Finally gathering myself, I forced my head up, and gazed for the first time in six years at the stone marker.

Reading over their names, I started to cry. Without making a noise, I allowed the tears to fall, finally grieving properly for my parents. Kneeling down, I looked at the unblemished ground before me, watching as the scene blurred before me every time I blinked.

"Hi," I said quietly. Somehow, whispering what I had to say to them seemed wrong, yet speaking in a normal tone of voice was also out of the question. "I'm here."

I collapsed to the ground, falling into a sitting position with my legs crossed in front of me. My tears continued to fall unabated as I felt the emotions that I had been avoiding for so long. Looking up at the headstone, I felt my eyes drawn to the inscription there.

'The gods conceal from men the happiness of death, that they may endure life.' I had had it inscribed below their names and the dates of birth and death. I longed to run my fingers in the grooves in the stone, but couldn't bring myself to tread across the space of grass below which my parents rested.

Instead, I looked back to the ground and began to absently play with individual blades of grass, trying to put my emotions into words and come up with what I needed to say.

"I know I should have come here before now," I said, beginning. Had I been asked before, I would have said that sitting and talking to dead people in a cemetery would have been uncomfortable at best, downright creepy at worst, but I would have been wrong. I could already feel the sense of calmness coming over me as I said the words that I had needed to say for so long. It didn't matter that they couldn't hear me anymore. I needed to hear me.

"I'm sorry for not coming back, and I'm sorry for leaving such a large part of you behind me when I left that day." I continued, wrapping my arms around myself and leaning forward a little, so that I was speaking almost directly into the place where the stone met the ground. "I took with me what I needed to go on, but I left the difficult part of us behind, and in the last few years, that was all we had. I should have remembered and carried it with me, no matter how hard it was.

"I guess that, if there is someplace that we go after we die, you know what was going on back then. I'm sorry that I didn't feel like I could tell you. I just felt so alone already, I couldn't have handled it if you had abandoned me too. So I held myself back. I settled for a distant relationship with the both of you rather than risk destroying it altogether.

"Whether or not that would have happened had I told you everything that was happening in my life, I can't say now, but I wasn't willing to take that chance. I couldn't take that chance. You were the only solid thing in my life.

"I have a few things that I need to tell you, and I don't think you would have liked them." Fidgeting in the grass, I uncrossed my legs and brought them up in front of me instead, moving my hands around my knees and clutching them to my chest. "I know that you had plans for me. I know that there are a lot of things that you wanted for me, that you wanted to see me do, and I'm sorry that I've let you down.

"But you have to know that I just couldn't go through with all of it. I had my own dreams, my own ambitions, that you didn't know anything about. I know that it's my fault that you didn't know anything about them. I pulled away from you and kept you at a distance. How could you have known?

"First of all, I got my degree in English, and I'm a writer. I know that you both wrote that off as a pipedream, and wanted me to do something more practical, but this has always been what I wanted to do. I'm working on my second book, and the first one is selling really well." I smiled as I heard the words coming out of my mouth. My father was always looking at the bottom line, and I think he would have been pleased knowing that I was making good money.

"We all knew that I didn't have a head for business," I went on, resting my hands on the grass before me. Moving them back and forth, I watched as the light caught on each blade as it snapped back into position. "Writing is what I've wanted to do since I was a little kid. I realise that you both thought it was just a childish hobby, but I love it, and I'm good at it. I think, after some time, you would have gotten used to that."

"I moved away for a while," I went on. "I met a wonderful friend in university, and we both moved to LA after university. I think you would have liked her. I see a lot of you in her, mom. She's tough, but she has a heart of gold. She flew all the way up here just to help me, and she's always been there for me when I needed her.

"Her parents have sort of taken me in and made me feel like a part of the family. They've really been great, and they helped me a lot when I was still dealing with losing you. They didn't pressure me to come to them, but loved me and waited for me to make up my own mind about it. I've grown to love them like family. I think you would have liked them, too, and they've taken good care of your boy," I said with a smile.

"I moved back to Toronto after the book was published. I guess you can take the Canadian out of Canada, but you can't take Canada out of the Canadian, eh?" I laughed.

"I think, after you adjusted a bit, you would have been happy for me and the way my life is going," I said, feeling the certainty of this in my heart. "But there's something else that I have to tell you that I know you would have had trouble understanding. If you are out there somewhere and can hear me right now, you probably already know what it is, but bear with me. I have to tell you.

"I'm in love. Obviously, that's something that the both of you wanted for my future. The thing is, I'm in love with another man." A sudden image of my father's face reddening came to mind, but I pushed it aside. "There's not a doubt in my mind that you wouldn't have liked that, but that's the way it is, and it's the way it would have been even if you had lived to see it.

"His name is Brian," I continued. "Brian Littrell. I think, everything else aside, you would have really liked him. He's a singer, mom, and I know that you would have loved that. Dad, you would probably have said he was 'nice enough, but needs to get a real job,'" I laughed quietly.

"But, hopefully, what you would have both seen is that we are very much in love. He's beautiful, inside and out, and he's the sweetest, kindest, gentlest man I've ever met. He treats me well, too. Probably better than I deserve. I know neither one of you approved of relationships like ours, but I like to think that, after some time, you would have realised that we were meant to be together. I can't imagine what my life would be like without him. Even now, I've only been away from him for a few days, but it seems like an eternity."

"I remember you telling me, mom, that when dad was away so much you felt like you were wandering around without a sense of direction. You called dad your soul's compass. I never forgot that, hoping that someday I would have that kind of connection with someone else. I've found it with Brian. Being away from him feels like I'm just going in circles, trying to find my way back to him.

"I left dad's medallion with him when I left, as a promise that I would come back to him. Wherever you are, I'm sure dad's sputtering right now, but if you could only see how much he means to me, you'd understand. I can't lose him, and I won't give him up.

"That's why I came here," I said, my voice dropping a little lower. I was ashamed to admit that I wouldn't have been there if I hadn't had to be in order to get back to Brian. Clearing my throat, I found my voice was a little stronger when I continued.

"I needed to talk to you. I had to come back here and reclaim what I left here the last time. I know you wouldn't have planned all of this for me, but it's the life that I have, the one I created for myself, and I'm very happy with it. In the end, I like to think that's all that would matter to you. I'm happier than I ever thought I would be, or had any right to expect to be. I just wish that you could be here to see that.

"I can't express how sorry I am that I didn't share my life with you those last few years we had together. While my reasoning was valid, it doesn't make it any easier to think about. Passing in the hall without saying anything, the silent dinners, the uncomfortable silences between us. I wish I had told you what was going on in my life, and asked for your help instead of keeping you away from it all, but I couldn't."

I spent a long time sitting there, talking to them. I told them about everything that had been going on during the time that I kept them from getting close enough to see it. I told them about all the nights that I had cried myself to sleep, wishing that I could talk to them. I told them about the guilt that I had felt the night that they had died. Guilt at holding them at arms length for so long, and at never telling them what they had meant to me, whether they knew it or not.

Finally, I couldn't talk anymore and sat there, rocking gently back and forth, repeating over and over again how sorry I was that I couldn't be what they wanted me to be, and trying to convince them that I truly was happy with my life.

I don't know how long I sat in front of the stone marker, silently staring at the inscription on it and hoping that it was true, but the light was almost gone from the sky when I finally came back to reality. What brought me back was the touch of a gentle hand, and then the comfort offered as it moved across my back and rubbed it soothingly.

Looking up, I found myself staring directly into a pair of beautiful blue eyes. They were also rimmed with tears. I brought my hand up and ran my thumb under each eye, collecting and wiping away the tears that were preparing to fall. "How..."

"We'll talk about that later," Brian said softly, sitting down with me and wrapping his arm around my shoulder. Looking up at the headstone, he produced a single white rose from the folds of his jacket. He leaned forward a little and lay it on the ground in front of the stone, carefully placing it in the centre, between the two plots.

"I'm Brian," he whispered. "And I love your son very much."

I completely lost my resolve then. Overwhelmed by his sudden appearance, and by the touching gesture he had just made, I couldn't stop the tears from coming again. Brian just held me, whispering soothing nothings, and waited for me to stop crying.

"Thank you," I said, when I could speak again. "I don't know how you did this, but thank you."

Brian smiled sadly and drew me into a hug. "You don't have to thank me," he whispered in my ear. "This is my place. Right beside you, where I belong."

I nodded against him, running my hands across his back in order to make sure that he really was there. Turning my face to him, I kissed his neck gently.

"Do you want to stay here a little while?" Brian asked, pulling back so that he could look me in the eyes. "I didn't mean to interrupt, but I couldn't stand seeing you sitting here alone like that."

"No," I said, wiping at my eyes with the back of my hand. "I did what I came here to do. I wanted to tell them about everything that they had missed, both before and after they died. I wanted to tell them about you, and how much we love each other."

Brian nodded. "Andrea explained a little bit to me," he said. "Do you want me to wait for you at the gates?"

"No!" I said quickly. I was afraid that if I let him out of my sight he would disappear on me as suddenly as he had appeared. "No," I repeated, more calmly. "You just demonstrated exactly what I came here to tell them. What you did tonight showed how much we love each other better than anything I could have said."

Brian reached out and took my hand in his, lacing our fingers together. "I do love you," he said, running his other hand across my cheek, cupping my face.

It was my turn to nod. "I know you do," I whispered back with a smile. "And I love you."

Brian stood, pulling me up with him and wrapping his arms around my waist. My own naturally went around him. "Then let's get you home," he said. "You're shivering."

"See?" I asked, looking down at the ground before us. "I told you he was wonderful." The image that went through my mind at that moment was of my mother, smiling lovingly, and I knew that I had accomplished what I set out to do. "I'm going to go now, but I'll be back." I whispered, looking at the perfect beauty of the rose Brian had laid on the grass. "Soon," I added, and heard the resolve in my voice.

Brian took another moment, looking quietly at the headstone. Instead of speaking, he gripped my hand tighter. "I do love him," he said, his gaze falling on the rose as well. "And I'll take care of him for you."

I looked from the rose to Brian's face and noticed that his tears were falling again. Putting my arm around his shoulder, I led him away from there before we were both crying again. He came willingly, putting his own arm around my waist. "I can't believe that you're here," I said as we walked back to the gates.

"I wish I could have been here sooner," Brian said. "I should have been here for you."

"Don't start that again," I sighed. "Just tell me what you're doing here? How did you find me?"

"Let's talk about that later," Brian suggested, looking at me. "Right now, let's just get out of here and enjoy being together for a while."

"Okay," I agreed, holding him close as we exited through the gates. Brian took out a set of keys and unlocked the only car sitting in the small lot outside.

"Rental," he said, answering my silent question. "I didn't know how much running around I was going to have to do, so it seemed easier."

I nodded and climbed in, immediately noticing that the seats were much more comfortable than the ground I had been sitting on for the last while. I sighed a little as I relaxed, noticing how tense I had been. Brian smiled at me and started the car. "Now, I don't know where we're going," he said. "Andrea told me how to get here from the airport, but I don't know where you live."

"Um," I said, looking over at him. "I don't really just want to go home. Can we just drive around for a while, and then maybe get something to eat? We need to talk, and I want to be alone for that."

"Sweetie," Brian said, leaning over and giving me a brief but loving kiss. "As long as you're with me, we can go wherever you want."

I smiled for him, then gave him the directions. The one thought that was circling in my mind as we drove off was just how lucky I was.

To Be Continued...

Well, there you have it. Nightmare revealed. For all of you who have been impatiently waiting for Nate to tell his story, keep an eye out for the next installment.

Special thanks to Steve for the information on the Rosedale Valley Road Cemetery. It was a big help to be able to picture it in my head, though I may have changed a few details. :)

As always, comments, etc. are more than welcome. Email me at dls_stories@hotmail.com

Thanks for reading, everyone! :)

~D~