ch19.page

Nick Carter stood in front of Rose's door, wondering if she'd ever open it. He could hear muffled sobs inside, but there didn't seem to be any movement towards the door. He knocked again, louder this time. "Rose?" He called, after a minute. "It's Nick. Can you let me in?" There was silence from the other side. "Nick Carter." He tried again, "You might not remember me. Mandy's boyfriend. Brian's friend. Can I come in? Please?"

A timid, weak reply floated back at him. "Come in." Nick sighed with releif, and pushed open the door.

Rose was a mess. She was still dressed in the clothes Mandy had leant to her, though it was morning already and she'd come back from the dance hours ago. Her make up was smeared down her face; the mascara stains on her cheeks and her puffy red eyes, not to mention the fact that she wasn't wearing her wig, gave her the look of a creature from a horror movie. Nick recoiled slightly, involuntarily. Then he checked himself, and made his way to the bed.

Settling himself down next to her, he took one of Rose's shaking hands in his, and held it. She seemed wary of his touch. "Brian's doing fine." He said, soothingly, and all at once, the silent flow of tears ceased. Rose visably relaxed. Her hand stopped shaking. "He passed out for a while, that's all. They said it was because of his recent surgery, his body hadn't built up all it's strength yet. But he's fine. Really tired, but fine."

Rose looked up at Nick. "I'm so sorry." She said, her eyes watering again.

"What? Why?" Nick asked her.

"It's all my fault." Rose whispered. "I'm so sorry I hurt your friend."

Nick squeezed her hand a little tighter. "It's not your fault, Rose. It's Brian's own fault for being such a dumbass as to sit out in the pouring rain when he was recovering from heart surgery. You can't help the fact that he has no common sense, whatsoever." Rose smiled a little. "I know you guys fought, or something, but it's not your fault. And you don't need to worry. He's fine. There's nothing more wrong with him now than there was before."

Again, Rose relaxed. "But he probably never wants to see me again."

Nick almost laughed. He'd spent the whole morning with Brian, who'd done nothing but sleep, waking occasionally to blurt out, "Rose. Where's Rose? I'm so sorry, Rose" before falling asleep again. Nick knew he loved her. But he wasn't sure Rose knew, and it wasn't his place to tell her if she didn't. "You might be surprised." He told her, giving her a little wink. "I wouldn't go to him now, he's not likely to be coherent for another few hours. But you can't avoid him forever. He wouldn't want you to."

"Promise?" Rose asked.

Nick nodded. "Promise." He leaned over, and gave her a quick kiss on the forehead. "He's a good guy, really, Rose. He'd never mean to hurt you." And then he stood, and left her room.

Rose stared after him for a minute, going back over their conversation in her head. Brian was okay. That was all that really mattered. Even if Nick had told her that he never wanted to see her face again, she could have lived with that, knowing atleast that she hadn't killed him. And Nick had gone so far as to imply that he may still want to see her.

Without warning, her mind flashed to the scene that had taken place the night before, at the dance. She hadn't given herself much time to think over the events, but they all began falling into place now. She remember the look in his eyes when she'd asked him to leave her alone- it was unlike any look she'd ever seen on any person before. It was like she could actually see the peices of his heart cracking, tumbling to the floor. And then the tears had welled up, and her own heart had crashed down to join his. The image of him, so open and hurt like that, was permanently born into her memory.

And then later, after she'd spent an hour sitting at their table, wondering if he was ever going to come back, she'd walked out to the parking lot, to check if the limo had come back for them yet, and there he was, laying back on the cememt with his eyes half open and his mouth catching rain. It was a wonder he hadn't drowned. She'd run to him, screaming, and shook him, but he wouldn't wake. She screamed his name, but he didn't move. In a moment of clarity, she'd fished his cell phone from his pocket, and called 911, then lay there with her head on his chest while they waited for an ambulance, listening to the beating of his heart growing softer, and wondering if soon it would stop forever.

Tears filled her eyes again, but she brushed them away before the could fall. Last night had made her realize something. Those minutes when she thought he was gone were the hardest of her life. Harder, even, than when she'd realized that she, herself, was dying. So why was she pushing him away from her, allowing herself to lose him on her own accord?

No, she couldn't do that to herself. And based on the look in his eyes the night before, she couldn't do that to him either. Resolutly, she stood. Her mind was made up. First, she'd shower and wash her face, and change into something else. Then, she'd go to Brian's room and wait by his side until he woke up. She was going to talk to him then, and tell him everything. She was going to tell him how she felt.

Ready or not, Brian, she said to herself, here I come.