Disclaimer: This story contains scenes and actions of an adult homosexual and homoerotic nature. If you are resident in a country where your age does not permit you to view such material, please leave this page immediately. This story also contains references to real people. The author makes no claim to know the sexualities of any of the characters within the story including in particular the members of the Backstreet Boys. This story is entirely fiction and does not represent the views of any of the members of the sites with which it is affiliated. Thank you.
Life Begins:
Chapter Three: Disowned Hero
Time slowed to an unbearable crawl as the splash made by the water slowly rose and fell. Dust and debris fell gracefully from the hull into the void of sea below. Charles watched, filled with dread and disbelief as his life fell away to nothingness. Everything that was him; all he had worked for and aspired to be was now gone. His had in one action terminated his life's meaning. Nick groaned in pain as he clutched tightly to the outstretched hand. The ship lurched to the side and Charles snapped back to attention and hauled his body upright.
He lay Nick down gently on the deck and sat back. Nick clenched his fists in pain and cried out. His left leg was badly injured and the rags that had bound the wounds were thick with blood. Charles took the cloth that had held the laptop on his back and rebound the wound. After all,' he thought, I have no need for it now. I have no need for anything for no one has any need for me. My life is...over.' Another vibration ripped through the ship and strained voices carried through the mass of debris that was now blocking the route outside. "Stay put! We are coming to get you!"
For an instant, Nick thought he heard the sound of helicopter blades until it was drowned by a second shock wave that shook everything to the core. Water gently spilled over the edge of the hole and began to lap gently against his body. High above, a girder shifted and creaked. In a moment, it fell down toward him. Nick felt the rush of air and watched as the final nail in his coffin sank into flesh. But it was not his. Charles crouched above him grimacing as the metal dug deeply into his back. "I lost my life to you; I'll be damned if I loose you now as well," he spat through gritted teeth. "Move." Nick looked at the man's tensed features and face that was crushed in pain.
For a brief instant, Charles opened his eyes as another mass of debris landed on top. Nick stared in wonder at the force and brilliance of those azure eyes. They held such intention, such belief and strength. Charles gazed back through the haze of pain into the soul of this stranger. Something was not right; he had never acted this way towards anyone else before. Why was he so different? A connection bridged between them; a force circled their minds and embedded itself deep within their souls. The moment lasted for an age but was broken all too soon. "Move!" screamed Charles as the hull dug further into his back. Nick moved.
Dragging his bruised and broken limbs across the wet jagged metal, he crawled out of the way. It took the last of his strength and as he fell back to the floor, he gazed at the man, straining to keep the mass of debris from falling before blacking out. Despair ripped through Charles' mind. He was mistaken. He had made the wrong choice. He had failed. Searching desperately for something within to power himself and give him the force to rise up and move he found only the stranger's face. Desperation filled his mind and he gave up.
There was nothing left in his life; he had lost. It was over. Another shock wave fought through the hull, tearing the metal paneling into shreds. The mass of debris fell down as Charles collapsed. Falling into unconsciousness he let the rubble tear his joints and rip his flesh from the bone. He could not feel the pain; he did not care to. Darkness was all he saw. It was over.
He bathed in the dark for a long time; not knowing why or how. It encompassed his being. Was he thinking? Was he alive? He didn't know. The place was strange. At first he tried to call out to the darkness; to search and discover something. But he couldn't. There was nothing to search for; not even a method of searching. Eventually, he just let himself float in the dark; feeling it and letting it fill his mind. It was pleasant and cold and possessed a relief he had not known in years. He was ready to become a part of this quiet unfeeling bliss until something nagged him.
A thought crept into his mind and no matter how hard he tried, he could not shake it; a bugging idea that perplexed him in every way. His entire life and all the people in it had been geared towards his career and himself. His job had been his life; he had lived only for that. So why, when the laptop held everything that meant anything in his life, had he chosen the stranger? In an instant a light blazed through the darkness. It was small and dim but it still shone so brightly in comparison with the all encompassing black that had existed until then.
As he thought further, the light grew and grew until it was a solid ball of energy that called to him and gave him strength. He had to go on and follow it if he were ever to answer that question and discover within what had possessed him to choose the man over his life. In a blaze of pain the light shot through his soul, obliterating the darkness. He at once became aware of himself. Quiet, indistinguishable sounds reached out to him and he saw a faint reddish haze. He tried to connect with his body and found pain sear through his mind as he tried to move.
He tried to open his eyes in vain. Focusing on his hearing, he listened intently. A slow methodical bleeping echoed in his mind. There were footsteps and breathing; muffled voices too. He reached out to the noise and felt strength within. Trying again, he willed his muscles to move. Flickering gently at first, the dimness faded as his eyes opened. The light from before circled and focused before vanishing as a stranger's face came into view.
He gazed up through half-closed eyes at the young man who sat beside the bed. Something triggered in his mind but he couldn't place exactly what. Then, as if the flood gates of memory had been instantly broken, images drenched his mind. The ship; the collision; the crawling; the tunnels; the hull; the water; his laptop; the fall; the jump; the pain; the darkness...and the light: that face. The man beside him was the same light; the same strange perplexing being who he had for some unknown reason chosen over his life.
"Hey, how are you doing?" asked the stranger. "I'm good," replied Charles. His voice felt surprisingly strong to him but in reality it croaked hoarsely and struggled to form the words. "You'll be fine if you save your strength. Try to relax," Nick told him. "Where am I exactly?" asked Charles weakly. "New York Centre Hospital. You've been out cold for over a month now. You sustained extreme damage to your lower back and suffered heavy internal bleeding and hemorrhage as a result. But the doctors tell me that you are progressing incredibly rapidly considering. In fact you've broken new records with the speed of your healing. Most other people in your condition would be paralyzed and in a coma for weeks, they said. You certainly are a fighter."
Nick went on but Charles wasn't listening. He had been unconscious for a month? What of his employers? They would certainly be mad now. He saw another person enter the room and exchange words with Nick. He bent over the side of the bed and did something to a machine that until, now he had not noticed. As he became aware of it, a slow repetitive hissing and buzzing filled his ears and added itself to the background of noise. Slowly, the room darkened and dimmed away until all that was left was an image of Nick's face. He had to know why.
It was a further month before Charles was healed enough to be allowed to sit up and have many visitors. He had been into theatre a total of seventeen times and had undergone extensive microsurgery to his lower back but despite all the operations and dedication of the medical staff he had healed far faster than anyone had expected. Nick had surprisingly received few injuries save the gash to his leg and exposure to cold. He had suffered hypothermia and had needed surgery to correctly align the tissue in his left leg but was recovering steadily and was soon on his feet. From the moment he was allowed to walk, he had spent most of his time beside Charles' bed. He only thought it right; after all the man had saved his life and had taken so much pain for him. But there was something more to it as well.
Nick felt a powerful attraction to his savior that was not just physical. He had always preferred the taller man but Charles' eyes had captured his soul and his every mannerism from the way he lay to how he slept forged an ever deeper longing within his heart. Nick sighed as he watched Charles' chest move up and down gently in the hospital bed. The group had not taken well to his coming out. He had always thought them so supportive and helpful but on telling them his true feelings they had all immediately disowned him; well practically anyway. The look in Brian's eyes of mistrust and loathing would stay scarred in his memory forever.
He had braced himself for rejection. And after they had all so nearly lost their lives to the accident, he had wanted to tell them how he really felt. But never could he have been ready for the sheer cold they bestowed upon him. The main problem was that they were all so overtly religious; especially Brian and AJ who in finding Jesus had saved their own lives. But God had never been there for Nick and he could not help but feel that the entire thing was a false illusion. He had thought that they would have supported him or at least accepted him being a member of the group. As it had turned out they were thinking of a break but now the band had made Nick feel as if he had hammered the final nail in the group's coffin.
At least his parents had been there for him but they would not be around forever and he would then have to face the music alone. After the Never Gone album he had thought that things would go on better than before, but it was up to the band to decide and at the moment there was no way they wanted to go on with him there. At least Charles was there for him or so he thought. He had saved his life and had not once asked him to leave his side. Nick drew comfort from that and slowly began to accept that he might hold feelings for his stranger savior.
For the first time in two months, Charles woke and found Nick to be gone. Looking around the room, he sat up in surprise. "He's gone to get you a refill," a nurse answered his gaze, indicating the missing water jug on the side table. "He'll only be a minute." Charles relaxed; for a moment he had the dreading feeling of loneliness sweep over his mind but it was gone now. Looking up at the ceiling he returned to his chain of thought that he had been following before he had slept. It was as ever the same. Why had he saved this man?
Distant voices broke his concentration and he looked towards the door as three men, dressed in suits entered the room. They walked slowly and methodically as robots before stopping at his bedside and drawing the curtains. "We are sent here to inform you that due to recent activities involving you and the loss of certain data, we are no longer liable to employ you. We therefore present you with these few belongings from your office and request that you do not try to contact us again." Charles felt a minute light of hope deep within be crushed into nothingness. "What about..." he began. One of the men stopped him with a brief wave of his hand. "Your redundancy fee has been paid in full to your offshore bank account. We wish you a nice day." After leaving a large black suitcase beside the bed, the men marched out of the room; maintaining the same harsh cold presence.
A few minutes later, Nick returned with a jug of water and some new glasses. He placed them on the side table before noticing Charles' crestfallen gaze. "Hey what's up?" he asked, sitting on the edge of the bed. "I've just been fired," replied Charles in a strange tone; half matter-of-fact, half bitter sorrow. Nick missed the sorrow and answered, "Well that makes two of us now doesn't it? I spoke with Dr. Troy and he said he'll check on you later and then all being well you can go home in the morning. Whereabouts do you live?" Charles sprung from his inner world and replied monotonously, "Don't worry about it. I'll crash at a friend's place for a few days. I need to find my roots. Look, I can't expect you to stay here and look after me all hours. You must have a home to go to and there must be people who are missing you. Go to them. You've done more than enough."
Nick was about to reply but caught Charles' gaze and thought better of it. "OK I'll leave you to it then. Give me a buzz when you've moved in tomorrow. Thanks again for saving me," Charles just nodded. Nick collected his coat and left. Only once he had been gone a full five minutes, did Charles allow his resolve to slip. The illusion that he had learned to craft so perfectly over the years was beginning to crack and fade. He had been disowned by the only people in his world that he really had wanted to please. His career was over before it had begun and the failure that accompanied the sting of rejection drove deep into his mind.
There is was again though; that strange light: the perplexing force that had kept him alive and even now when he had lost everything else, refused to let him give up. Looking back at the door with tear filled eyes, Charles could not help thinking that in reality, Nick had saved him instead.
Dark emotions and secrets hiding here. Keep on reading! lankymon@hotmail.com