Date: Mon, 04 Jul 2005 22:42:51 +0000
From: Charles Underwood <lankymon@hotmail.com>
Subject: Life Saga-Life Begins: Chapter 3

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.


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Dark emotions and secrets hiding here. Keep on reading! lankymon@hotmail.com