Date: Sat, 29 Apr 2000 22:46:38 -0400
From: DJ <djs-tale@cfl.rr.com>
Subject: Forever 87-88

Disclaimer
----------
	The story contained in these pages is totally in the mind of
its author.  All rumor and innuendo aside, I do NOT have any idea
of the true orientations of any members of the Backstreet Boys.
Yes, children, all wishful thinking aside, they're probably as
straight as we all HATE to think of them.  So, this is my little
reminder that this is what we like to call FICTION.  Readers
should realize that reality and fantasy are definitely (and
unfortunately ;-) two different things.

	Don't read this tawdry tale if you're too young.  Don't read
this tawdry tale if it's against the law.  If it IS illegal where
you live, you need to consider a relocation!!!



And now...'Forever'...



Chapter 87

	"Dylan, what happened?" Brian asked from my side.  It was the
first time I realized he was there.

	"I...we were attacked.  We were walkin' on the beach and this
group of guys showed up and started makin' cracks about not liking
fairies and faggots and one thing led to another and I'm on the ground
gettin' kicked and someone shot a gun and Kevin was bleeding and," I
rambled on.  Nick interrupted me, putting a finger to my lips.

	"I was the one who fired the shot, Dylan," Tom's voice came from
behind Nick.  I glanced up at him.

	"What?  You?  But Kev..." I trailed off.

	"Kevin was stabbed, Dylan, not shot," Tom continued.  "I was too
far away when those guys got to you, so I fired the shot in the air,
hopin' it'd scare `em off.  Luckily, it did."

	We fell silent, then.  Brian was on my left, AJ on my right.
Nick was on his knees in front of me, still holding my hands.  I just
stared at him, using him to anchor myself.

	"What'm I gonna do if he dies, Nicky?" I whispered.  Nick
squeezed my hands.

	"Dylan," he dropped my hands to cup my face, holding my eyes with
his.  "Kevin's gonna pull through.  He's gonna be fine," he said, his
voice firm and forceful.  But his eyes gave away how worried he was.

	I lost it, then.  The tears came pouring out of my eyes.  The
sobs started wracking my body.  I was shaking.  I could feel my hands
trembling in Nick's.  I let out a low moan, letting out the agony that
I was feeling.

	Nick reached up and took me in his arms.  The other guys just
crowded down around us, wrapping their arms around us.  We all sat
there together, sharing our worry and grief.

	"Are you the friends of the man who was stabbed tonight?" a voice
interrupted us.  I quickly looked up to see a man in surgical scrubs
standing there.

	"Kevin?" I spoke up.  "You have news about Kevin?"  We all stood,
gathering around the doctor.  I grabbed Nick's hand, holding on for
dear life.  "How is he?"

	"I'm afraid I can't give you much information.  They took him up
to surgery about half an hour ago," the doctor said.  "He suffered a
blunt trauma to the head.  Looks like someone took a club of some kind
to him.  The stab wounds are the worst, though."

	"Whoever stabbed him didn't stop there.  They slashed the knife
through his stomach and intestines in several places.  They'll be in
surgery for a while trying to close up the wounds.  And the possibility
of infection is pretty high with intestinal wounds."

	I couldn't breath.  I couldn't think.  My mind was racing, and it
wasn't going anywhere.  The stars were coming back into my eyes.  I
tried to grab hold of Nick, but I suddenly found I couldn't move my
arms.  And then everything went black.



	"He's comin' around," Nick's voice came to me from some distant
place.  "Dylan," he said, sounding closer now.  I opened my eyes to see
him above me.

	"Dylan, buddy, talk to me.  You alright?" he asked me.

	"Sure, Nick, I'll be fine," I said.  Unfortunately, when I tried
to sit up, I got dizzy again and immediately fell back, clutching my
throbbing skull.

	"I think we'd better get you checked over, young man," the doctor
said.  I just nodded.  I grabbed Brian's arm, getting his attention.

	"Go to him.  Please," I whispered, pleading.  Brian was Kev's
family.  I knew he should be up there with him.  Brian just nodded,
grabbing Howie by the arm.  They both walked off quickly, stopping by
the nurse's station for directions.

	I spent the next half-hour being examined by the doctor.  He
checked out my ribs where I'd been kicked.  He told me that I had just
bruised them this time.  No real damage was done to the bones.

	My head was another story.  The kick I'd taken had landed me with
yet another concussion.  The doc wanted to check me into the hospital
for observation.  I told him I'd be there anyway, but there was no
reason to take a bed for me.  I had no intentions of leaving the
hospital until Kevin could come with me.

	And then the waiting began.  We found Brian and Howie upstairs in
another waiting room.  I was surprised to see Leighanne there, too.  I
hadn't even noticed her in the waiting room.  No word had come out
about Kevin.  The only thing the nurse would tell any of us was that he
was still in surgery and in critical condition.

	Brian handled the phone calls to Kevin's family, and to the guys'
management.  They were going to send someone out to deal with the press
since none of the guys would really be able to handle it.  And Ann,
Kevin's mom, was going to catch the earliest flight she could.

	God and I had a long talk in the hospital chapel that night,
probably longer than any talk we'd had in years.  He and I hadn't been
close for a while, especially when he took Gram from me the year
before.  I spent almost an hour that night, praying, begging him not to
take Kevin from me like he took her.  Brian sat with me, saying his own
prayers, occasionally stroking a hand down my back.

	AJ, Howie, and Nick all showed up at one point or another to
offer up their own prayers.  They didn't stay as long as Bri and I did,
though.  Brian never once left my side.  I felt closer to him in those
moments than I ever had before.

	"Dylan, you need to get cleaned up," he said as we walked slowly
back to the waiting room.

	"Huh?" I asked, not clueing in to what he was saying.  He reached
out and took my hand, holding it up for me to look at.  Kevin's blood
was still on it.

	I looked down, then, realizing for the first time that my clothes
were stained with it, too.  I'd been holding him pretty close on the
beach after...after he'd been hurt, and his blood was all over me.

	I stood there, in the middle of the hall, and just stared down at
my shirt.  Everything else around me faded out.  There were only the
stains...only the stains.

	"Come on, Dylan," a gentle voice came to me.  I looked up to see
a nice looking man standing there.  I felt like I should know him, but
my mind had gone all foggy, and I couldn't think of his name.  He had a
very strong, square face, reddish-brown hair, and piercing blue eyes.

	I just smiled stupidly at him.  He smiled back a little.  There
was concern in his eyes as he took my hand and led me down the hall.  I
stumbled after him, as he obviously knew who I was, even if I couldn't
seem to recognize him.

	We came to a small room where several other nice looking men were
sitting.  There was also a pretty blond woman there.  Something in the
back of my mind told me I knew them, but I couldn't seem to remember
anything.  The nice man who'd brought me here pushed me into a seat in
the corner, then started talking to the others.

	"He's losing it, guys.  He looked at me in the hall like he had
no idea who I was."

	"We should get him cleaned up," another one suggested.  This was
the one with long black hair.  He seemed nice, too.

	"Yeah," the first man said.  "Would one of you mind going back to
the hotel and getting him some clothes?"

	"I can," the strange one spoke up, the one with all the drawings
on his arms and jewelry in his ears.

	"Thanks, AJ," the first man said.  The strange one looked at me
before turning back to the others.

	"Take care of him.  I'll be back in a little bit," he said, just
before he and the big man in the suit left.

	I faded then, drifting off someplace else.  I could hear voices
around me, but they were speaking some language I couldn't understand
anymore.  A woman came in later, dressed in some kind of suit.  She
talked to the nice man and the others.  I couldn't understand her,
either.  I faded back out again.

	"Dylan," someone was shaking me.  I came back to the little room
to see that the strange man had come back with the other man.  The
strange man had a bundle of clothes with him.  I turned to look at the
young blond man who was shaking me.

	"Hello," I said, smiling at him.  For some reason, this just
seemed to upset him.

	"Hi, Dylan," he said, then paused.  "Listen, buddy," he spoke
gently, "we need to get you cleaned up.  Is that ok?"

	I just nodded and followed him when he led me away.  We went to a
bathroom not far from the other room.  He and the strange man ushered
me in there.

	The strange man took my shirt off, quickly bundling it up and
tossing it behind me.  I got the feeling that there was something on it
he didn't want me to see.  Then, the blond man took a wash cloth and
got it wet and soapy and started to clean my face.  I just stood there,
staring at him as he worked.  He was nice.

	They took turns washing me.  They cleaned my face and my neck and
my arms and my hands.  Then, the strange one helped me put on the
clothes he'd brought.  He was nice, talking softly to me.  He said they
were my friends, and that they'd take care of me.

	They led me back to the little room where the other nice men were
waiting with the redheaded woman in the suit.  The blond one walked me
over to a little couch that was there.  He sat at one end and had me
lie down so my head rested on his leg.  He stroked my hair and the back
of my neck.  Something about that gesture was familiar, soothing.
That's the last thing I remember before I fell asleep.



Chapter 88

	"KEVIN! NO!" the scream tore from my throat as I woke, sitting up
on the couch.  Everything came crashing back to me.  The walk...the
fight...the hospital...Kevin.  A pair of arms surrounded me.

	"Shhhhh, Dylan," the voice belonged to Nick.  "Easy, man, it's
ok.  It's ok."

	He pulled me into a tight hug.  I turned into him, burying my
face in his neck and clutching him to me.  The tears were falling
again.  I heard footsteps before another hand touched my back.

	"What happened?"  It was AJ.

	"Nothin', AJ.  Dylan just had a bad dream is all," Nick told him,
speaking softly.

	"Is everything alright in here?" a strange female voice asked.

	"Yeah," AJ answered.  "Everything's fine."

	"Ok," the woman said.  "Guys, I'm gonna need you at the press
conference in fifteen minutes.  The people are gonna need to see you so
we can head off any rumors that the rest of you were hurt, too."

	"Fine.  We'll be ready in a second," AJ said.

	"Nick..." I started to whisper to him, then trailed off.  He
seemed to understand, anyway.

	"Don't worry, Dylan, I'm not goin' anywhere," he whispered to me.
He lifted his head to talk to the others.

	"Megan, I'm gonna stay here with D," he said.  I stiffened when
he called me that.  He quickly corrected himself.  "With Dylan.  I
don't think it'd be good to leave him alone."

	"I understand, Nick.  I think we'll be alright as long as the
others can make an appearance," the woman, apparently named Megan,
replied.

	The guys shuffled out of the room, then, following Megan to
wherever this press conference was being held.  Nick just continued to
hold me, letting me take what time I needed to gather myself.  I pulled
away from him a while later.

	"Thanks, Nick," I said as I turned to put my feet on the floor.
"I needed that."

	"It's not a problem, Dylan, you know that," he replied, the usual
`goofy Nick' replaced by his more serious side.

	"Is there any word on Kevin, yet?"

	"Well, he got outta surgery about twenty minutes ago. He's in
recovery now, and they're gonna move him to intensive care soon," Nick
said.

	"How is he?" I asked.  Nick hesitated in replying.  I turned to
him, staring into those blue eyes of his.

	"It's touch and go, Dylan.  He lost a lot of blood, not to
mention the damage done to his stomach and stuff.  The doc says we just
have to wait and see if he can pull himself through," he practically
whispered the last part.  I nodded.

	I stood up, pacing the small waiting room.  I took a look around,
noticing the TV in the corner for the first time.  I walked over and
flipped it on, hoping against odds that they might actually have MTV.
I knew the major networks probably wouldn't interrupt programming for
this, but I thought MTV might.

	Amazingly enough, the hospital got MTV.  Maybe they got enough
kids in here that they thought it was worth the cost.  Whatever the
reason, I adjusted the volume just as John Norris came on.

	"We're interrupting our programming to bring you this late
breaking news story.  Kevin Richardson, one of the five members of the
Backstreet Boys, was apparently attacked last night in Los Angeles.
The Backstreet Boys are in LA doing some work in the studio for their
next album due out this fall."

	"The Boys are currently holding a press conference at Cedars-
Sinai hospital, where Richardson is undergoing treatment for his
injuries, and we take you there live with MTV's Brian McFayden."

	The image on the screen flashed to a picture of a conference room
of some sort.  No one was at the front table, yet, but flashes were
going off.  Brian McFayden's voice came through the TV.

	"Thanks, John.  We've just arrived here at Cedars-Sinai Medical
Center in Los Angeles, and we're waiting for a press briefing that's
set to start in just moments.  A representative of the Firm, Megan
Caldwell, called the briefing to update the press on the events of last
night and this morning.  So far, details of the attack have been
sketchy and."  He cut off as the camera showed Megan walking into the
room, followed by Brian, Howie, and AJ.

	Megan immediately stepped up to the podium that was at one end of
the table where the rest of the guys sat down.  She opened up a sheet
of paper before addressing the crowd.

	"Ladies and gentlemen, if I could have your attention, please,"
she said, holding up her hands until the room quieted.  "I have a brief
statement, then we will take a few questions.  I hope you will
understand that this will be short.  The guys," she indicated Brian and
the others, "would like to get back upstairs as soon as possible."

	"At approximately 2:30am local time last night, Kevin Richardson
and his fiance, Dylan Weston, were attacked while walking on a beach
not far from LA.  At this time, we don't know anything about the
assailants beyond the fact that there were a number of them, and that
at least one was armed with a knife."

	"During the course of the attack, Mr. Richardson was stabbed
repeatedly in the abdomen, resulting in severe injuries to his stomach
and other internal organs.  He is currently listed in extremely
critical condition, having just now been brought out of surgery."

	"Mr. Weston sustained injuries in the attack, as well, and is
currently resting upstairs.  While his injuries were severe, none is
considered to be life threatening."  She paused.  "We will now open up
the floor for questions."  She pointed to a woman near the front of the
room.

	"Do police have any motive or leads in the attack?"

	"No," Megan answered.  "At this time, there is no known motive in
the attack.  And leads have been nonexistent.  Neither Mr. Richardson
nor Mr. Weston have been in a condition to speak with police yet."

	I couldn't believe she said that.  There sure as hell was a
motive, and it was hate.  Plain and simple.  I was tempted to walk down
there and straighten that out, but I knew now wasn't the time.

	"What is Kevin's prognosis?" Brian McFayden was asking Megan.

	"I wish I could say it's good, but right now, it's considered
questionable.  The wounds were severe, and the risk of infection is
high in this type of case."  I saw Brian stand then, taking the
microphone from the table to speak.

	"We would like to ask our fans, and everyone watching this
whether they are fans or not, to say a prayer for my cousin.  We're
going to need all of your support to bring him through this.  Now, the
other guys and I are going to return upstairs to check on his
condition.  Thank you all for coming."  Brian, Howie, and AJ all turned
and left the room.  Megan addressed another question.

	"Where is Nick Carter?"

	"Mr. Carter is here in the hospital.  He remained upstairs with
Mr. Weston to keep an eye on Mr. Richardson's condition."  I noticed
how formal she was being with all of our names.  She seemed very
professional.

	She answered a few more questions before wrapping things up.  At
the end, she told everyone that she would release regular statements
every hour to keep them apprised of any changes.

	I shut the TV off, then.  I'd seen what I wanted to see.  More
than I wanted to see, actually.  I sighed, dropping back onto the couch
next to Nick.

	"You ok, Dylan?" he asked.

	"Not really, Nick," I spoke softly.  "I'm not sure I'll ever be
alright again."



To be continued...
------------------
	Hi, all.  Sorry for the delay (again ;-)  I keep saying I won't take
as long to post the next piece, then something else comes up.  Oh well, at
least this time, the something that came up was worth it.

	He's gorgeous, with blond hair and the deepest, most beautiful eyes
you've ever seen.  He's slept with me the last few nights, and always
gives me kisses before bedtime.  And, before you get too excited for ole
DJ, I'll mention that he also has four legs, a tail, and puppy breath.

	That's right, folks.  DJ bought himself a dog.  Purebred Golden
Retriever, and he's beautiful.  His name is Cherokee.  And, he's needed a
lot of my attention the last few days and nights, so that's why I didn't
post before tonight.  Is that better than the standard 'school/work/life
got in the way'?

	Anyway, I hope everyone's still enjoying the story.  I got a very
small number of responses after the last posting.  Is this becoming
boring for y'all now that I've announced it's ending?  I can wrap it up
early if it's not really exciting anyone anymore.

	Oh, and speaking of the ending, the ending chapter got pushed out
a little.  I'm currently writing Chapter 117.  I THINK it'll all come
to a stop in 120, but ya never can tell when I'll get a wild hair to
write more.  Now that Kevin's moved to L.A., maybe I wont find much
inspiration in O-town...

	I've rambled enough.  Gotta go before Cherokee wakes up and needs a
potty break.  Yes, I did use the word "potty".  No need to get all excited
about it ;-)

L8r!!