JC and the Actor, Chapter 21, Copyright 2003 ----------
The following story is entirely a work of fiction. It is not meant to imply anything about the sexuality or the personal lives of the members of NSYNC, or any other celebrities mentioned. If you are underage, or if it is illegal to read sexually explicit gay material where you live, don't read this.
Thanks to everyone who has written, please continue to send your comments, suggestions, and criticisms to mzbryan2003@yahoo.com
Chapter 21
Two pairs of hands grabbed me as I doubled over. My stomach was cramping fiercely and I couldn't stop retching. I pulled away from Bobby and JC, and stumbled a few feet away from them, wanting to be alone, but realizing that there was no chance of that under the circumstances.
"Are you ok?" JC asked, cautiously walking up to me.
"I think so," I said, trying to get a grip of myself. JC stood in front of me and I watched as his expression changed from sympathy to fear.
"Nate," he said, his eyes looking more and more alarmed as he leaned in to study my face in the moonlight. "You're coughing up blood."
"Shit," I said, somewhat reconciled to the fact that something was terribly wrong with me. "That can't be good." I didn't know much about medicine, but I assumed that vomiting blood was pretty bad. A fiery pain shot through my stomach and I fell back down to the ground, vomiting once again.
"Is there a paramedic with you guys?" I heard JC ask Bobby.
"I'll go get him," Bobby said, running back toward the camp. JC kneeled down next to me and rubbed my back, telling me that I would be fine. My eyes were tearing, but I couldn't tell if it was from throwing up, or from feeling like the biggest piece of shit on the planet.
"You picked some time to show up," I coughed in between retches.
"Don't talk," JC said. "Just try to relax."
Bobby returned with Steve, the medic who traveled with us, who quickly asked what my symptoms were.
"He was vomiting earlier today," Bobby said. "But we just thought it was motion-sickness."
"Nah," Steve said. "It's probably some type of food poisoning." He kneeled down next to me and turned my face toward him. "Most likely E. coli I would say."
"Isn't that serious?" JC asked. I could tell he didn't like how calm Steve was.
"It can be," Steve said. We just have to make sure he doesn't get dehydrated."
"Are you complethely thure that thath all it ith?" I asked, able to catch my breath for a minute. All three of them turned and looked at me as though I had just arrived from outer space. "Whath the madder?" I asked. I didn't notice how I was speaking, in part due to the buzzing sound that was developing in my ears.
"I'm gonna go call to have him airlifted out of here," Steve said, standing up and rifling through his medical bag. "Here," he said, handing JC a rubber, rectangular shaped object. "Put this in his mouth."
JC took it from him, but seemed completely confused. "Why?" he asked.
"It's not likely, but it's possible that he could have a seizure." Steve ran back toward the camp and Bobby and JC stared at me, fearful of what I might do next. JC moved to put the wedge in my mouth, but I waved him away.
"Pleathe, if I thtart having a theithure, then give it to me."
"Ok," JC said. "Just stay calm. They'll get you to the hospital and you'll be fine." It sounded like he was trying to convince himself.
Steve came rushing back, and said that the helicopter would be here in about an hour.
"What's wrong with him?" Bobby asked.
"We shouldn't speculate," Steve said. "Let's just get him inside for a bit."
"But it's not just food poisoning," Bobby asserted, the fear obvious in his own voice. JC looked up at him, then back at me.
The three of them helped me stand up and I slowly began to make my way toward the camp. My feet felt kind of numb as I walked, but I didn't want to scare anyone anymore than they already were.
Back inside my tent, I sat on my bed, trying to ignore the intense pain in my abdomen. Both JC and Bobby sat at my bedside, and they were soon joined by Tim who sat down next to me and put his arm around me.
"You'll be fine, buddy," Tim said. As far as I was concerned, this experience had disaster written all over it. The fact that my symptoms were so strange made me pretty sure that I was going to die. I started to think about how I had come so close to having it all, and then managed to fuck it all up in literally the few short hours before my death. It was kind of funny, really. Here I thought I had gotten sick due to my profound feeling of guilt, when really, all I was doing was dying.
"Stop thinking the worst," JC said. I looked at him and smiled faintly. He knew me. He really knew me. Tim must have noticed the connection between JC and I, because he soon told Bobby that they should leave the two of us alone for a bit. Reluctantly, Bobby followed him out of the tent, looking back at me before exiting.
JC's eyes followed Bobby out of the room, then turned back to me. "That must be Bobby," he said. I nodded. JC moved closer to me, taking my hand in his own and kissing my cheek. "I love you so much," he said. "Please don't worry."
My face scrunched up and I started to cry. I knew that JC would think that my tears were from fear for my health, but they were really because I had hurt the best person I had ever met. And he didn't even know it. "I love you to," I sobbed, covering my face with my hands. JC pulled my hands away and replaced them with his own. Tears were streaming down his face and I wondered if I could alleviate his pain by telling him that I wasn't worth the worry.
"I'm not leaving your side," he said, kissing my cheek again. The familiar sound of a helicopter appeared in the distance, and it wasn't long before a team of paramedics burst into my tent with a stretcher and a lot of questions. I tried to answer them the best I could, and luckily they seemed to understand me despite my slurred speech.
Seconds later I was on the helicopter, with JC safely belted in next to me. Just as they were closing the doors Bobby appeared and jumped in. "I'm coming to," he said. JC gave him a strange look but Bobby was only concentrating on me. The paramedics tried to close the door a second time, but were stopped by Tim jumping on as well. With no further passengers arriving, the helicopter took to the air and made its way toward the hospital. The four of us sat there silently while the paramedics kept yelling a bunch of medical terms. I recognized some of them from when I had done that episode of "ER" a few years ago. Tim was looking back and forth between JC and Bobby, then turned to me and shrugged his head, giving me a friendly smile. I smiled back, happy to know that however big a fuck-up I was, Tim was still my friend.
"His heart rate is over one-hundred," one of them said. I was being pinched and prodded with numerous instruments, but couldn't really feel any of them.
"He's bleeding into the skin," another one said, lifting up my shirt and noticing large bruises on my chest and stomach that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere.
"Oh my God," Bobby yelled, tears forming in his own eyes. I saw Tim give Bobby a stern look and he tried to compose himself.
"I think I'm gonna faint," I said. It felt like the cabin was spinning.
"That's ok," a paramedic said. "We're almost there."
Still conscious, I arrived at what I assumed must be the only hospital in Kenya. It looked fairly modern, but any objections I may have had to the place seemed fairly ridiculous under the circumstances.
A team of doctors surrounded me and pushed me into the emergency room. I heard someone say that I had jaundice and that my blood pressure was very high. They told everyone with me to leave, and I didn't have the strength to object. I saw JC and Bobby standing just outside, looking through the glass with pained expressions as I started to vomit more blood. While trying to stop that, the doctors also took blood samples and it was soon thereafter stated that I was severely anemic.
"Just what I thought," a doctor said. "We need to get him started on plasma exchange." The doctor turned to me. "When did you start having symptoms?" he asked. I told him that it was around noon today. "Good," he said. "Then the chances are that you have only had the E. coli bacteria for a short time."
"Ith that all it ith?" I asked, thinking that that this seemed like cruel and unusual punishment for food poisoning. Not that I didn't deserve to feel terrible.
"Not exactly," the doctor began with his thick, but clear African accent. "You do have E. coli poisoning, but that only explains your vomiting. What you have is..."
"Wait," I interrupted, using all of my energy just to form the word. "I need you to tell thith to Joth, tho thomeone elth can here it." The doctor smiled at me and I realized he probably had no idea what I just said. It wasn't just that my speech was slurred, it was that it was slow and lethargic. The doctor went to the door and asked if any of the gentlemen who had come with me had a name that started with a "J." JC came in like lightning and asked what was happening.
"Your friend has TTP," the doctor said, looking back and forth between the two of us. JC's hand was holding mine tightly, and I think the doctor quickly realized we weren't just friends. "It is a rare blood disease that we still do not know the cause of, but we know it can be brought on by E. coli food poisoning."
"Can you treat it?" JC asked. I was happy to have someone able to speak for me.
"Yes," the doctor said. "The disease is attacking his red blood cells, causing him to become anemic. We have to keep giving him plasma exchanges, similar to blood transfusions, until he stabilizes on his own."
"So are you doing that?" JC asked. He didn't really care about the process, he just wanted to know if I was going to be all right.
"Yes, that's what we are doing right now. I am concerned though that we do not have enough plasma at this facility to treat him for very long. Many patients need to be on plasma exchange for several days, and we won't have enough for that."
"Will you have enough for him to be transferred somewhere else?" The doctor instructed a nurse to go and find out which hospital could best accommodate me. JC turned back to me and put his hand on the top of my head. "You're going to be fine," he said, smiling.
"This is not a guaranteed solution," the doctor said. JC's face dropped and we both turned to look at the doctor. "This is a very dangerous disease, and I have to advise you of the risks." We were both silent, so he continued. "A small percentage of people won't respond to treatment, and for some this could become a chronic problem or require removal of the spleen."
"What's the worst that could happen?" JC asked, though I don't think he wanted to hear the answer.
"A number of things," the doctor said. "He could hemorrhage, have a stroke, or, more likely, experience kidney failure. Since he already has symptoms of kidney distress, I am naturally very concerned about this." JC and I remained silent, staring at the doctor. He continued, "It all depends on how long the disease has been in his system. The sooner we get it, the greater his chances are for survival. It is likely that he just got it today, but he could have gotten the E. coli bacteria as much as eight days ago."
"Did you say survival?" JC said, his hand starting to shake around my own. "He could die?" The nurse came back and said that they were making arrangements for me to be sent to an American hospital in Cairo.
"Your friend is young and very healthy," the doctor said to JC. "I am confident that if anyone can pull through, he can." The doctor and nurse exited, leaving JC and I alone with a bunch of beeping and clicking.
"This is really bad, isn't it?" I asked, looking at the tubes running in and out of my arm.
JC smiled at me. "You're already speaking normal again," he said. "You're already getting better." I was starting to feel very calm, and realized that they must have given me a sedative to bring down my blood pressure and stop me from vomiting.
"I'm really tired Josh, I'm just going to close my eyes."
"No!" he said louder than he had expected. Don't go to sleep."
"Josh, I think that rule is just for concussions."
"I don't care," he said. "Just stay awake. Just stay here."
"Ok," I said. Despite my exhaustion, I held my eyes open. "Josh, what are you doing here?"
"I came to surprise you," he laughed. "We rearranged the tour schedule so I would have a few days to come and visit you. I chartered a plane and hired someone to bring me out to the set."
"I'm sorry I messed everything up." I did mean everything.
"Don't be silly," he said. "Thank God I am here with you."
"Josh," I said, suddenly feeling overwhelmed. "I haven't prepared for this. I don't have a will, I haven't spoken to my father in months. I haven't even come up with some type of theory about death."
"Shh," Josh whispered, smoothing my hair back from my face. "You don't have to worry about any of that. Everything will be fine."
"Josh, if something happens, don't let them leave me living on some machine. If I can't be exactly what I am now, I don't want to live."
"Stop it," JC said, his eyes tearing again.
"Promise me, Josh, please? They'll probably need my parents permission, but if you tell my mom what I told you, she'll believe you." My own eyes were filling up at thought of leaving so many unfinished things behind. I thought about telling JC about Bobby, but I couldn't decide what was best for him. If I did die, wouldn't it be better for him to think that he was the only one I wanted? Or was truth the ultimate gift I could give?
"I promise you that I will never do something to make you suffer," he said. I started crying again and JC stood up and cradled my head in his arms. I had really become such a little girl in these past months.
I had forgotten what it felt like to have his arms around me, and I wondered how I ever could have thought anyone could have felt better. I had convinced myself that I was having genuine feelings for Bobby, but right now all I believed was that I had lied to myself just to try something new.
Bobby's head appeared in front of the door and I could see his heart sink as he saw JC holding me. He came inside and asked me how I was doing.
"The doctor told us everything," he said. JC must have picked up on Bobby's desire to speak to me, because he got up and said he was going to go get some water.
"Bobby," I started, after JC made his exit.
"Don't say anything," Bobby interrupted. "It's not important right now. I just had to make sure you were ok." I was hardly ok, but I knew what he meant. "You look good," he said, feigning a smile.
"Yeah, yellow is my color." JC came back in and took his seat next to my bed. Bobby started to walk out, but turned to JC before exiting.
"I'm, uh, a big fan," he said, smiling politely and leaving.
"He's a cute kid," JC said, turning to me. "What is he, fifteen?"
"He's nineteen," I said, rolling my head away from him.
"Nate," he said, his voice turning serious. "I think I should call your parents."
"No," I said. "My mom will lose it."
"It's just that you collapsed on a movie set, I'm pretty sure it's going to be in the news by tomorrow."
"Shit," I said. This had the makings of a huge story. If I survived, I would probably become a major celebrity just from the incident. "I guess you should then." I gave JC the number and he left to go call them. I was so upset thinking about how upset they were going to be. I was so far away and there was nothing they could do but sit there and wait for more information.
Sometime later, JC came back. "What did they say?" I asked.
"Your mom is on her way to the airport," he smiled. I knew that she wouldn't be able to be passive in a situation like this.
"My dad's not coming with her?" I asked, wondering how much I had upset him.
"No, it's not like that," JC reassured me. They just decided that one of them should stay in communication in case..." his voice trailed off.
"In case any important decisions have to be made," I finished for him. My mouth felt dry and I realized I didn't have enough fluid to cry anymore.
"It's going to be fine," JC said firmly, grabbing my hand once again.
The doctor came back into the room and told us that they were ready to take us to the airport. I obviously hadn't improved in just the few hours at the hospital, so I let them pack me up and I hoped for the best.
"Our prayers are with you," Tim called out to me as I was put into the ambulance. Bobby looked like he wanted to come toward us, but Tim had his hand firmly on his shoulder, and I could tell he was giving him some type of instruction.
I was able to sleep after the doctor explained to JC that it was ok for me to do so, so I don't remember much of my journey to Cairo. I do remember falling asleep, feeling JC's hand around my own, and hoping it would never leave.
"Am I dead?" I asked. I was trying to open my eyes, but they felt too heavy.
"No," a woman's voice said. The unfamiliar voice forced me to open my eyes to find myself in a hospital room that I assumed must have been in Cairo. I was still hooked up to a million machines, and the woman that had spoken to me was reading something off of one of the monitors and making notes.
"How long have I been asleep?" I asked.
"Since you got here last night," she smiled. "It's about one in the afternoon." She looked Egyptian, but spoke with an American accent.
"Are you my doctor," I asked.
"I'm a resident, I've been here since you arrived."
"You're American."
"Yes, my father is from Egypt. I am doing my training over here." She was very pretty with long black hair and sharp, defined eyebrows.
"Is my friend still here?" I asked, looking around the room for any signs of JC.
"You mean your cousin?" she smiled. I gave her a confused expression. "He's in the waiting area, you weren't allowed to have visitors while we got you settled in." She came and stood closer to me and smiled once again. "You realize you aren't in the most liberal of countries?" she asked. I nodded and she left to go get my "cousin."
A few moments later, JC came into the room looking rumpled and tired, but still beautiful. "Hey," he said. "How are you doing?"
"Much better, now that I know we're family."
"The doctors say that you're stable for the moment. They're waiting for the results of you most recent blood test." I felt so strange. It wasn't that I was in pain, it was more like I was realizing how much pain I would be in if I wasn't on so much medication. JC came closer to me and leaned down to kiss me. His face felt stubbly against my own. "Your mom called a while ago. She just landed in London and is waiting for a plane here later tonight."
"I hope I'm worth the effort," I joked.
"Nate," JC said rather suddenly, looking closely at my face. "Did you have a black eye?"
"Oh," I said, reaching up to touch it. "Yeah, I kind of got into a fight a few days ago."
"How come you didn't tell me? Is that where you got that cut too?"
"No," I answered. "That I got from falling. It's kind of funny actually. I didn't want to tell you this stuff because I thought it would sound worse than it was since you were far away. Now you're here, sitting with me on my death bed."
"Stop talking that way," he said. "I don't find it funny." I apologized and put out my hand for him to take. "Whoa," he said all of the sudden, turning away from me and taking a deep breath. I was trying to figure out what was bothering him until I realized he had just got a good look at the needles in my arm.
"Oh," I said, slightly amused. "I forgot. You're the one who doesn't like needles."
"Doesn't that hurt?" he asked, his face making a twisted expression.
"Just look at my face," I suggested, trying to form a smile as he turned back to me. The doctor came back into the room and told me that while it wasn't bad news, I wasn't showing any improvement yet, so they were going to do another transfusion. I asked her how long they would keep trying before doing something more drastic, and she said that they might keep trying for up to five days. I suggested to JC that he should probably leave for this part and he agreed, stepping aside for a nurse who came in to help with the transfusion.
Night came very quickly. They had given JC permission to stay in my room with me and he sat there in an uncomfortable chair, refusing to complain. I drifted in and out of consciousness. At times I would wake up totally disoriented and have to be told where I was. My hands were in soft restraints because one of the times I had woken up and started to take the tubes out of my arm.
"Well, if you've ever had any bondage fantasies about me, now's your chance," I laughed, staring up at the ceiling and thinking about how terribly unfair all of this seemed to be. Over food poisoning? It dawned on me that I might have been better off had I taken part in the big, disgusting meals the crew had regularly. As far as I knew, none of them were sick. JC chuckled and promised me that a lifetime of pleasure was in my future. I didn't have the courage to tell him that if he knew the truth, he would probably never speak to me again.
It was around dawn when I awoke to hear talking outside of my room. The door opened and the light emerging from it woke JC, who quickly straightened up in his chair. My mom came in and I almost felt embarrassed that she had to see me this way.
"Oh my baby," she said rushing over to me and cradling my head in her arms. She looked exhausted, but then again, I probably wouldn't be winning any beauty contests at the moment. She looked over at JC, smiled, and thanked him for being there for me.
"I wouldn't be anywhere else," he said.
For the next few days, JC and my mom kept a constant vigil by my bed. They would take turns while one would go take a shower or get something to eat. But for the most part I was never alone, which was a blessing as well as a curse. Not knowing how much time I had left, I wanted to spend every moment with the two of them. But not being alone and able to think about the ramifications of my actions kept me from ever feeling too peaceful.
It had been over three days and the doctors were growing concerned that my blood tests weren't showing my red blood cells raising to normal levels. I heard them mention removing my spleen, and although I didn't really even know what my spleen was, I knew I wanted to keep it. I wasn't suffering from the effects of the food poisoning anymore, so the doctors were able to just focus on my TTP.
It was early afternoon. My mom left to go get sandwiches for JC and herself, and JC sat there next to me, pretending not to be exhausted. Film production had shut down and I heard JC telling someone on the phone that he wasn't coming back until I was fine, and that whoever wanted him back could go fuck themselves. I knew that JC loved me, but I started to realize it was a profound love that he had for me. I wondered if it was so profound that he would go on loving me, even if I told him the truth.
"Even if I get better," I asked him, "Won't it be weeks before I am able to start filming again?"
"When you get better," he corrected, "They'll just have to wait." I was probably costing the studio millions of dollars, but I think that they insure themselves for unusual situations like this.
JC walked over to the window and for the first time it really hit me that I was in Egypt. I had always wanted to go there, but this trip hardly seemed to count.
"Is it beautiful out there?" I asked.
"Yeah," he said, staring out at the blue sky. "When you get out of here, how about we go see some pyramids?"
"Josh," I moaned. An indescribable pain shot through my body and one of the machines started beeping like crazy. I gasped and clenched my jaw. "Something's wrong." JC rushed over to me, but I could hardly see him, my vision had become so blurry. I heard him run out of the room and call for help. Suddenly, a bunch of people were in the room and I felt very woozy, very unprepared for what was coming. I saw JC get pushed toward the back of the room to make room for all of them.
"His kidney's are failing," someone called out. I knew that was bad. The room was becoming very cloudy and all of the voices yelling seemed to merge into one persistent sound. The room was turning white, but before it did completely, I saw a pair of blue eyes, staring at me intensely, filled with love. I tried to burn the image into my brain, hoping that if JC was going to be the last thing I would ever see, I would be able to look upon him forever.
"I'm sorry," I called, though I'm not sure if any sound actually came out.
"He's going into a coma," was the last thing I heard.
To be continued