Almost Lost What Never Was
by Mary C.

Ryan fidgeted nervously in his seat, giving the napkin on the table much more attention
than it was worth. Across from him, Greg took a sip of his beer, and pulled out a
cigarette. At the sight of him lighting up, Ryan instinctively reached to his pocket, only
to realize he'd already smoked his last one hours ago, after the taping.

Greg looked at him bemusedly, and held out an extra butt to his friend.

"Here, you can pay me back later." Ryan hesitated only for a moment, then grabbed
the cigarette in relief and leaned over while Greg lit it for him. After a few puffs, Ryan
managed to look only moderately ruffled, and it would have to be enough.

He'd invited Greg out for a few beers earlier in the day, after the taping, and they'd
agreed to meet at a local pub a few hours later. For Ryan, those had been a few *long*
hours. He'd been nervous ever since the taping, and he'd hoped a few drinks with a
friend might calm him down.

Unfortunately, he was more edgy than ever. Greg appeared to be staring at him. And
why wouldn't he be? Ryan had said little more than a few words in the past half-hour,
and had been alternating between drinking and shifting restlessly in his seat. The two
beers he'd already had didn't help, and he hoped the third one he was almost finished
with would kick in soon.

Greg broke the awkward silence, watching Ryan carefully.

"So, what was up with you and Colin today? Interesting, if I do say so myself," he
ventured, gauging Ryan's expression. As he'd expected, Ryan's head bolted up, and
he failed in his attempt to sound casual.

"What do you mean?" he asked innocently. Greg raised an eyebrow.

"You know, boa constrictor and the amazing, danger-loving man? You two were way
out there today." Greg took a long drag off his cigarette, watching Ryan intently. For
his part, Ryan had already finished his butt, and was instantly craving another. Just
thinking of what had happened at the taping earlier was making his blood flowa little
faster.

"I guess we just...sorta got caught up in character," he answered quietly, diverting his
eyes from a watchful Greg. Ryan knew his voice was hesitant, his explanation
halfhearted, but how could he answer any other way when he wasn't even sure himself?

The taping had been quite normal until then, or at least as normal as a typical 'Whose
Line' taping got. They were all having a good time. Ryan didn't realize then what was
in store for him in the next few minutes. He went up to his stool and read the card,
shaking his head as he normally did when he saw the odd suggestion.

"Ravenous Boa Constrictor."

Ryan shook his head, realizing Greg was speaking to him. "Wha?"

"I said," Greg repeated patiently, "you were being a little more seductive than a
ravenous boa constrictor." He raised his eyebrows, putting out his cigarette in the
ashtray and leaning to rest his chin on his hands.

"Are you insinuating something here?" Ryan asked suspiciously, unwilling to admit that
he *knew* where this was leading.

"I just wanted to know if anything was going on between you and Colin that I should
know about," he replied, a devilish look in his eyes. Ryan stared back at him wide-
eyed, unable to speak for a few moments. He finally gained his voice.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he answered quietly, not meeting his friend's
eyes. He couldn't possibly admit anything to Greg. *Listen to me,* he thought. *I
don't have to admit to something that isn't there!*

"Suit yourself," Greg replied. Was that a hint of disappointment in his voice? Ryan
didn't want to think about it, either way.

*******************************************************

Greg offered Ryan a ride home, but he declined, promising he would wait a little while
before driving. It wasn't very long before he regretted the decision, as he sat in his car,
the seat reclined a bit, trying to rid himself of the thoughts that permeated his head.

Ryan hated to admit it, but he'd been a wreck since his wife left. It was more than two
months now, but the pain still felt like it happened yesterday. He recalled when he'd
called Colin up, at about 1AM, on the verge of a personal breakdown.

"I can't think," Ryan said quietly, his voice cracking with barely contained anger. "How
could she do this to me?"

"You need someone there," Colin had said, after Ryan had practically ranted his friend's
ear off for an hour. "I'm coming down."

Ryan stared for a time, blinking. Colin had to check to be sure he hadn't disappeared.
"You don't need to come all that way for me," he replied, feeling guilty for dumping his
troubles on his best friend.

"Yes, I do. Don't argue, I'll catch a plane as soon as I can. I'll call you when I know."
There was no convincing him otherwise, and the next evening, both of them were at
Ryan's now empty house. Although he never cried, Ryan nearly lost it several times.
And during the whole thing, Colin sat next to him, listening and offering his support.

Ryan hadn't realized it then, but he felt something in his heart right there, a comfort that
he couldn't remember feeling before. Come to think of it, he always felt more secure
around his friend. Perhaps that's why they always got along so well.

And maybe that's why he never had a problem starting something on stage with Colin.
He'd managed to get a few onscreen kisses in on past occasions. And every time he'd
felt a tingling in his fingertips, the racing of his heart.

And tonight, he'd felt even more. It started out innocently enough, as he noticed Colin's
actions, and guessed his quirk had something to do with danger and arousal. What a
perfect opportunity, and he used it to the utmost, immediately eyeing Colin with the look
of a hypnotist catching the eye of the unsuspecting victim.

And Colin played right along, as he always did. That was the sign of good improv, after
all. So Ryan started with a few suggestive gestures; wrapping himself around Colin, and
gauging the 'reaction.' And he got it, as Colin mimicked complete submission.

Ryan's heart began to beat faster as he thought of it. The tongue flicking, the luring
method of his act, and Colin's receptiveness. The moment their eyes locked, as they
came closer together. So close, Ryan could feel Colin's breath on his face.

And then it was over. He'd feigned amusement, and felt genuine shock, while Colin
shook his head. And what really scared him was the innate arousal he felt at that
moment. Even afterward, through the other games, while he managed to hold onto a
composed appearance outside, his stomach still fluttered with the residual sensations.

Ryan slammed his hand down on the steering wheel, honking the horn and startling a
few people walking by. He realized, as he ran his hands through his hair, that thinking
about it now, a few hours later, aroused him again.

*What's wrong with me?!* he questioned inwardly. He knew all the signs; he'd felt
them before. From all indications, he was in love. The answer enraged him, and he was
unable to comprehend it. The only thing he knew for sure was that he could never tell
Colin.

But when he finally drove home, slamming the door in his car, and at the house, he was
met with the ring of the phone.

"Hey Ry, I've got a favor to ask you," Colin's voice graced the other end of the line,
and Ryan felt his breathing and pulse increase, despite his best efforts to stop them.
"I've got to catch a charter tomorrow to get back in time for a show I'm working on.
Could you give me a ride to the airport?"

"Sure," he replied in a hushed tone, unable to speak any other way. When he didn't
say anything else, Colin felt the tension in the silence.

"Is something wrong, Ryan?" he asked, slight worry in his voice. Ryan grimaced,
already knowing he'd blown his cover.

"Yeah, it's fine. I'll see you tomorrow."

"OK... see you then," Colin replied hesitantly. After Ryan put the phone down, he
cursed himself inwardly.

He couldn't even carry a normal conversation with Colin without revealing something.
He was terrified. Although he'd kept it from his friend, Ryan wasn't taking the divorce
too well. He'd spent many a lonely night in that empty house, trying not to remember
how it felt to have someone lying next to him.

Now he imagined his best friend in that role. Colin could comfort him like no one else
could; his small smile was enough to make Ryan smile himself, even in the worst moods.
It was a feeling he'd lost with his wife a long time ago.

He couldn't take losing his friend, and he was sure that if he revealed these things to
Colin, that's exactly what would happen. But being around him seemed to get harder;
he'd realized that today. There seemed to be no way out of the situation, and for Ryan,
that made him the most fearful.

He went to bed, lying awake the remainder of the night, staring at the empty space
next to him, and trying not to break down...

*******************************************************

Colin sighed, chancing a sidelong glance at his friend. Ryan hadn't said more than two
words to him since they got in the car, and now he looked more tense than Colin had
ever seen him.

"You know, you're not the one who has to take the charter plane," Colin joked, and
immediately regretted it. Ryan was terrified of traveling, and he turned white at the
thought. "Sorry..."

"So'kay," Ryan replied quietly, ending the conversation. The awkward silence was
eating away at them both, and finally Colin couldn't take it anymore.

"Ryan, if there's something wrong, why don't you tell me about it? I hate being in the
dark."

"What makes you think anything's wrong?" Ryan asked mirthlessly. Colin sighed.

"Look, I've known you too long not to realize when something's bothering you.
Besides, I'd have to be blind not to notice anything, the way you've been acting the
past two days."

Ryan frowned, unable to block out the concern in his friend's voice.

"If it's something I did, I'm--" Colin was broken off in mid-sentence, as Ryan jolted his
head around to face him.

"It's not you," he answered firmly, his gaze intense. There was silence the rest of the
way, and as Ryan pulled into the airport, Colin grabbed his bags out of the back seat.

"I wish I could believe you," he said softly as he closed the car door. There was a trace
of sadness in his voice, but as Ryan watched him go into the airport, he saw that Colin
didn't look back.

Ryan had all he could do not to run in after him and apologize. He wanted to ask him
to stay, wanted to be with him. He wanted to explain how he felt, and convince his
friend that it wasn't his fault. He wanted things to be normal again, when it was easy to
talk and joke, and there was no tension between them.

But he didn't. As he pulled out of the parking lot, Ryan felt a sinking feeling in his
stomach, and tried hard to push it down. Things would never be the same between
them, as long as Ryan had these feelings. But he could never tell his friend about them;
he couldn't reveal that secret.

He felt an anger rise unbidden within him; an anger at himself for his weakness. He
was angry at the world, at whatever was responsible for his fate, that he couldn't
change these feelings, nor express them.

Ryan went home and got very drunk...

*******************************************************

The annoying tone of the ringing phone managed to claw its way into Ryan's ears,
digging into his already pounding skull. He forced his eyelids open long enough to be
blinded by the encroaching sunlight of midday.

The ringing finally stopped, as the machine picked up the phone, and Ryan was more
than grateful for the relief. When his eyes finally adjusted, he noted that he was on the
floor, the sun from his bay window pulsing down on his back.

*I must have passed out,* he thought to himself, and when the first wave of nausea hit
him as he attempted to stand, he knew he'd drank enough.

After some time, though he wasn't sure how long, Ryan managed to get on his feet.
The pounding in his head had reached the level of a set of timpani's, and his stomach
was constantly reminding him not to move too quickly.

*Damn it,* he cursed inwardly, feeling the aches of his bones as they protested their
night on the floor. He didn't want to think of why he'd gotten so drunk, but the memories
returned just the same. He had to sit down for a moment, the flashes of last night hitting
his temples and making the room spin.

He remembered dropping Colin off at the airport, his heart thumping out of his chest
with anxiety as he watched his friend walk away. He wanted to say something, but he
couldn't. That's when he'd gotten angry.

He'd cursed himself over repeatedly while he downed shot after shot of whiskey he'd
bought on the way home. No matter how he thought of it, nothing worked. He didn't
have the courage to tell Colin how he felt, out of fear of the reaction. He couldn't deal
with the feelings of loneliness he was experiencing, the emptiness of his heart when they
weren't working together.

In the end he had only managed to get so drunk that he could no longer comprehend
the anger he felt. That must have been when he passed out. He'd probably been on the
floor for a good ten hours, and his body sure felt like it now.

That means the phone call was probably Colin, wondering why Ryan wasn't home. He
didn't want to deal with that now. He'd just have to call him back later and make up
some excuse. Unfortunately for him, Colin never had trouble seeing right through his lies.

He stumbled to the answering machine, noticing he had repeated messages, and his
caller ID didn't list any of them from Colin. Curious, he pushed the button. A worried
Drew met his ears.

"Ryan, where the hell are you?! When you get this, call me. It's important." Ryan almost
chuckled, imagining Drew's refrigerator broken. But his demeanor quickly shifted as an
unfamiliar voice came on next.

"This call is for Ryan Stiles. I'm Colin Mochrie's agent, and I've been trying to call
everyone on this contact list. There's been an accident..."

*****************************************

Ryan froze, his heart stopping. The rest of the message fell on deaf ears, as he tried to
make sense of what he'd just heard. It must have been a mistake; it had to be. Drew's
more urgent voice followed the message, bringing Ryan back into realization.

"Look, Ryan, if you're there, you have to pick up. I'm serious!" he emphasized. After a
short pause, Ryan heard a sigh. "It's about Colin."  *BEEP*

Ryan tried to remember to breathe, and found it was the only thing he could do. The
silence was so thick, it choked him. His heart pounded in his chest, drowning out his
runaway thoughts. All he could think of was the last conversation he'd had with Colin.

"I'm such an asshole!" he shouted at himself. He ran a hand through his hair, ignoring the
persistent pain slamming into his temples. He could see the look of hurt in Colin's soft
eyes, the disappointment in his quiet voice. *But I couldn't tell him...* he thought, trying
to rationalize it.

The piercing ring of the phone made Ryan practically jump out of his skin, and only
after identifying the number as Drew's did he answer it.

"Ryan, where the hell have you been?!" he asked tersely, and Ryan thought for a
moment before answering sarcastically.

"On the floor."

There was silence on the other end of the end the line for a moment, before Drew
continued.

"Look, are you sitting down now?" he finally asked, ignoring Ryan's words either out
of confusion or insistency. "Colin's been in an accident," he continued, not waiting for
Ryan's response. There was silence. "Ryan? Are you still there?"

"Yeah," he answered in a barely audible whisper, his mind finally snapping back into
reality. "Yeah, I know."

"I just got off the phone with his agent. He doesn't have much information yet, but he
said that the plane was forced down in Vancouver. I guess it went in pretty hard."

Immediately Ryan's head began to swim with a jumble of voices, all of people who had
tried to convince him, at one time or another, of the safety of flying. It would figure that
his best friend would end up in a plane crash.

"The only other information he could get was that Colin's at Vancouver General
Hospital. They wouldn't give out anymore information because he's not family." Drew's
voice was hesitant, as though he was pondering the wisdom of his next statement. He
eventually sighed. "From the sound of it, though, it looks pretty bad."

Ryan couldn't move for a moment, as he attempted to digest what he'd just heard.
Colin was alive, that was the important thing. But it was the only thing he knew, and
any relief he may have felt was washed away with doubts; thoughts of how badly he
might be injured.

"Look, I'm coming over. I'll be there in a few minutes," Drew told him, and Ryan
muttered an acknowledgment before hanging up.

What seemed like hours later Drew finally arrived, pounding on the door a few times
before letting himself in. Ryan was still sitting in the same place, head down, hands in
his hair, elbows resting on his legs.

He looked up after a few moments, his hazel eyes locking on to Drew's. Drew nearly
gasped as his friend's ragged appearance. Ryan's hair was tousled, his clothes wrinkled
and loose. His face was pale and tired, and his eyes were bloodshot.

"Jesus Ry, you look terrible," Drew managed after a few moments.

"Thanks. You're no lovely ray of sunshine yourself," he replied, too seriously, and
lowered his head again. Drew sat down beside him, at a loss for what to say next,
when a thought suddenly occurred to him.

"You might want to pack some things, because we'll be leaving in a few hours." He
reached into his pocket while waiting for Ryan's reaction.

"Going where?" he asked finally, not lifting his head. Drew produced a pair of plane
tickets, flashing them under the taller man's nose and smiling.

"I had to pull some strings, but I managed to get these for today. The flight leaves at
six, so you'd better get ready." Ryan's head bolted upright, as he looked at Drew
with a mixture of disbelief and anger.

"If you think I'm going to get on a plane, you're sadly mistaken," he responded with
more venom than he'd intended. Drew ignored the tone, continuing.

"Too late, already booked a hotel room. You gotta come now." Drew tried to keep
his voice light to hide the underlying dread he felt.

"Dammit Drew, my best friend was just in a plane crash, and you want me to get on
one of those things?!" Ryan stood up, pacing around before grabbing a cigarette and
lighting up.

"Hey, I don't want to sound insensitive, but you're going to have to swallow your self-
pity and get on that plane." Drew lightened his tone, trying not to take Ryan's anger
personally. "You can't stay here not knowing what's going on. It'll kill you. I know that
and you know that. We're going to Vancouver tonight, and that's all there is to it."

"You son of a bitch," Ryan growled, but that was the extent of his retaliation. Drew
was right; now was not the time to be thinking about himself. Fear or not, Colin
needed him, and he had to be there. Ryan sighed. "I'm sorry Drew, it was a rough
night."

"Yeah, I'd guessed from the smell," he answered, scrunching his nose in disgust. Ryan
revealed just the slightest hint of a smile when he saw the too-innocent expression on
Drew's face.

"I'm gonna go take a shower before we go." Drew nodded his agreement, and Ryan
turned toward the bathroom. "I'd tell you to make yourself at home," he started,
watching as Drew took off his coat and began to remove his shoes, "but I don't think
that'll be a problem for you."

Drew rolled his eyes and waved Ryan off before going to the closet and pulling out his
friend's suitcase. He plopped down on the bed, removing his glasses and rubbing his
eyes.

*It's going to be a long night...* he thought wearily.
**************************************

Ryan downed his third beer, chasing it with sleeping pills, as Drew stood outside the
airport lounge, vibrating with annoyance.

"Come on Ryan, they've already announced our flight," he pressed, finally giving up as
he dragged Ryan by the arm to the waiting attendant at the gate.

After taking their seats, Drew watched as Ryan became pale, already starting to shake.
He knew that his friend and costar had a fear of flying, but he'd never witnessed it
firsthand. He hoped he'd never have to, after hearing Colin's horror stories about his
flights with Ryan.

Once they were airborne, Drew attempted to make friendly conversation, trying his
best to joke. He was quickly silenced by Ryan's terrified face staring at him.

"Drew, please..." he insisted quietly. "Don't." It was a short statement with a clear
message, and Drew immediately silenced, turning to look out the window. Ryan felt
bad about stopping Drew, but he just needed the quiet. It was something Colin has
always understood; he was one of the few people with the perception to know that
sometimes words are useless.

The remainder of the ride was in silence, as Ryan fell in and out of a fitful sleep. Each
time he awoke with a jolt, startling Drew. It wasn't until they landed that Ryan could
even begin to think straight again.

Drew swore the taller man would have kissed the ground if it wouldn't have looked
utterly ridiculous. But the strain of the past several hours was already beginning to eat
away at Ryan; the bags under his eyes were a sure sign of that.

Even so, Ryan insisted that they go to the hospital first, dragging their luggage with them
before doing anything else. But when they arrived, he was met with the cold stare of a
receptionist.

"We're looking for a man who was admitted here late last night. Colin Mochrie?" Drew
asked, the impatience he felt not showing in his tone. If it's one thing he knew, it was to
be polite with people who have information you want.

"He's in the ICU, but you won't be able to visit him until tomorrow. Are you family?"
she inquired, writing down a room number on a slip of paper for them.

"No, but we're the closest thing he has," Ryan replied curtly, the effects of the booze
and pills not quite worn off yet. The woman looked at him indignantly for a moment,
then turned to Drew.

"His room number is right here," she explained, handing the note off, "and I can page
Doctor Lawrence to come to the quiet room and talk to you." Drew nodded and
grabbed Ryan's arm, pulling him along toward an elevator.

A few minutes later they stood inside the quiet room, Ryan pacing like a caged animal
while Drew waited. Just then, an older man, about Drew's height, wearing a doctor's
coat, stepped in. He motioned for them both to sit down, but Ryan remained standing.

"Are you Mr. Mochrie's friends?" he asked, and after receiving two nods, continued.
"I'm Dr. Lawrence. I was told that he has no family?" he asked in a curious tone, and
Ryan shook his head.

"None that you could contact, anyway," he answered quickly. The doctor looked at
him for a moment, and his gaze made Ryan uncomfortable.

"His agent called me and informed me that a close friend of his was coming here. A
Ryan Stiles?"

"Yeah, that's me." Ryan tapped his foot nervously, a wave of nausea hitting his stomach.
The combination of the last 24 hours was catching up to him, and his patience was at
its frayed ends. "What happened to him?"

"Well, he was in a severe accident," he started, and Drew mouthed an obvious 'we
know' as they waited for the more important facts. "The plane skidded across the
runway and crashed into an embankment. Mr. Mochrie was thrown forward inside the
cabin, and sustained major abdominal injuries."

There was silence in the room, as both Drew and Ryan awaited the explanation. The
tension was as thick as fog, and Ryan was sweating profuously.

"He suffered two broken ribs, as well as internal injuries and bleeding into the chest.
Right now, we have him on a ventilator to help his breathing, and the surgery to repair
the damage went successfully. But it will still be some time before we know what kind
of damage has been done. The paramedics who rushed him here said he had stopped
breathing for several minutes. We're still not sure if his brain was affected by the loss
of oxygen."

Ryan stumbled back into a chair, unable to comprehend the words the doctor had just
spoken. Instead, it was as if he was far away, and the voice was only a distant memory.
Drew was pale, but knew he had to keep his head on straight for Ryan's sake.

He'd known Ryan long enough to know that he and Colin had been best friends for
more than twenty years, and he couldn't imagine what it would feel like to go through
this sort of thing.

"Thank you doctor," Drew replied, and the man nodded and got up, walking out of the
room. Drew put a hand on Ryan's shoulder, startling him back into awareness.

"It can't be true," Ryan whispered, his eyes glazed with unshed tears. He didn't speak
again for several minutes, listening as the ticking of the waiting room clock drove him
almost completely insane. He couldn't possibly wait until morning to see him.

Ryan bolted upright, out of Drew's grasp, and strode out of the door with purpose,
entering the double doors of the ICU. He rushed past the nurses' station, receiving
shocked looks, as he made his way toward room 1130. An attendant went after him,
but couldn't reach him before he entered the room.

And there, lying on the bed, accompanied only by the slow beeping of the heart monitor
and the pumping of the ventilator, was a man Ryan couldn't believe was Colin...

*******************************************************

"How could you just walk away from me, when all I could do was watch you leave,
'Cause we've shared the laughter and the pain,
We've even shared the tears.
And you're the only one who really knew me at all."
-Against All Odds

*******************************************************

Ryan shook his head in disbelief, and started to sway, feeling faint. The attendant
reached him just in time to catch his arm as he stumbled, and Drew raced up behind to
grab his other arm. They helped Ryan to a chair, and he fell heavily into it.

"Are you all right?" a nurse asked quickly, concern on her features. Drew looked up
at her.

"Yeah, he'll be fine in a minute." His tone brooked no argument, and they both walked
away, leaving Drew and Ryan alone. After a minute, Ryan looked up at Drew with a
stoic expression.

"I gotta go outside; I need some air."

Drew nodded, taking Ryan's arm, but he shrugged it off. They went out to the parking
lot, Ryan smoking three cigarettes in record time, all without so much as a word.

"Look, you need to get some rest. We'll go to the hotel and come back in the morning,
all right?" Drew asked, more than a little worried. Ryan shook his head.

"No, I can't leave him. I'm staying here."

"But you can't see him until--" Drew's words were cut off by an intense stare.

"Colin didn't leave me when I needed him. I'm sure as hell not going to leave him now."
The intensity in Ryan's eyes was so fierce that Drew could not object, his logic dying in
his throat.

Several minutes later, Ryan settled himself down in a waiting room chair, unable to
enter the ICU, but unwilling to stray far from it.

The night threatened to be endless, and the mix of the sterilized atmosphere and the
stale coffee he was drinking only served to make Ryan more restless with every passing
second. He felt the overwhelming urge to get drunk again; anything that would block
out the vision of his best friend lying motionless on that bed.

Guilt hit him, cold and unforgiving. Even now, he felt that if he hadn't been immature,
he would have been awake for that first phone call. He would have been able to make
it here sooner. Some part of him even believed that it would have made a difference.

The exhaustion of the past twenty-four hours began to creep up on him, and despite his
best efforts, Ryan couldn't fight off the sleep that was overtaking him. Instead, he leaned
back in the chair, trying to push all thoughts out of his mind.

When he opened his eyes again, he could see that he was at the airport. Colin was
waiting to get on the plane, a neutral expression on his face. But Ryan could see in his
eyes, a hurt that didn't quite surface. He watched as Colin boarded the small vehicle
with two other people, and could see him take a seat next to a window.

As Ryan watched, Colin began to write. It looked like a journal, and after a few
moments of thought, he remembered that Colin once mentioned he kept a journal, in
case anything interesting came up that he could use later. This time, however, Colin's
expression was serious as he wrote.

'I wish Ryan would tell me what's going on. He's never acted this tense before, and I
can't imagine what could be bothering him enough that he wouldn't tell me. We've
been friends for so long, I guess I've taken for granted that sometimes things are too
personal to share with anyone.'

Ryan watched as Colin paused, sighing deeply, a sudden look of remorse in his
features.

'Still, I can't get over the feeling that it has something to do with me. Ever since the last
taping, he's treated me with the polite distance of an acquaintance. He's lied to me
before, and he knows that I can see it every time. And I know he wasn't being totally
honest when he said it wasn't me.'

Ryan swallowed hard, looking up at his friend. The pain Colin felt was now evident,
as he rubbed his eyes and shifted in his seat. Ryan knew right away that was a sign that
Colin was close to breaking up; he'd seen it once before when he'd accompanied
Colin to his mother's funeral. Colin had remained closed for quite some time as the
service continued, constantly moving about and taking deep breaths while covering
his eyes.

'I'd hate to think something will happen to our friendship. Maybe I'll try to get him to
talk to me when I get home. I'll have to call him as soon as we land...'

But even as his hand finished to write the last verse, the plane jilted forward. Ryan
looked up, and saw that the plane was pitching forward, shaking unsteadily. As the
pilot tried to keep the wings level, he shouted for everyone to hang on to something.

Ryan saw the look of terror on Colin's face as the ground came up on
them rapidly. He saw the raw fear in those expressive brown eyes.

Ryan sprang up, gasping. It was a few hours later, and he was alone in the dimly lit
waiting room. He wiped the sweat from his forehead, closing his eyes. But the sound
of shouts pushed through the remnants of sleep in his mind.

"He's bleeding into his belly again; we're going to have to take him back to surgery!"
a doctor shouted as Ryan reached the door. Two men in scrubs rushed past, into the
ICU, and Ryan watched after them. Before he could think about what they had said,
they came back with two nurses, wheeling a stretcher out toward the elevators.

It was Colin. Ryan grabbed the arm of the first person he could, a female doctor who
was about to follow them.

"What's going on?" he asked, now fully alert. She gave him an odd look before
realizing he was serving as Colin's next of kin.

"He's bleeding internally again. We're taking him to surgery to find out where it's
coming from. I'll send someone up to let you know what's happening when we know,"
she reassured him, turning back to follow the surgical team.

Ryan watched them go, unable to move. He could only wait.

*******************************************************

The surgery took a few hours, but it was sucessful in stopping the bleeding. During that
time, Ryan had been on and off the phone with people; Greg had called from LA,
offering his best wishes for a quick recovery, and trying to offer support to Ryan. It
was obvious that their little talk a few days before haddn't left Greg's mind, as his tone
sounded truly sympathetic to Ryan's situation.

There had been other calls from the guys; Wayne and Brad had both called to see
what was happening, and Dan Patterson was the first to ask Ryan to let him know if
he needed anything.

But all of their words fell on deaf ears. Ryan simply went through the routine, repeating
the story to anyone who asked, and telling them all that he was fine. When they had
brought Colin back, he immediately insisted on being in the room, cursing at the staff
about the rules. He was at the end of his rope, and later when asked, he'd probably
admit that the staff couldn't have kept him away even if they tied him down.

The doctor had explained to Ryan that he hoped to see a recovery in the next few
days, but that it would take time. Colin wasn't conscious yet, and it was impossible to
determine if any damage had been done to his brain.

Ryan became terrified at the thought; he couldn't imagine Colin without his shy, warm
smile or sharp sense of humor. Everything that he'd come to know, the very essence
of his friend's personality, was at stake. He prayed with every ounce of his being that
Colin would come out of this all right.

Ryan sat heavily in the sturdy chair at Colin's bedside. He tried his best to remain calm;
losing composure wasn't going to help anything. Instead, he swallowed hard and
sucked in a deep breath as he looked at his friend.

With the IV's, ventilator and other tubes on and around him, Ryan could hardly tell it
was Colin beneath it all. A bandage on his head didn't totally hide the cuts and bruises,
and his skin seemed to hang a little more loosely from his bones.

Taking one of Colin's hands in his own, Ryan was startled to find it was cold and
clammy, his flesh pale and dry beneath Ryan's own warm fingertips. The feeling hit him
like a ton of bricks, the weight of all his emotions beginning to crumble down on top of
him.

At that moment, Ryan wanted nothing more than to see those brown eyes open and
look at him. He wanted to hear Colin's soft, caring voice telling him everything would
be all right.

But nothing changed, save the empty feeling in his chest that continued to grow. The
persistant ache couldn't be denied, nor could the rising swell of emotion. Ryan rested
his forehead against the bed rail, a wayward tear escaping from his eye.

"Oh God, Col, I'm so sorry," he whispered in a broken voice. Silence permeated the
air for long moments, the quiet sounds of machinery the only reminders of the broken
lives in the room.

What may have been hours later, although it was likely only a few minutes, Ryan felt
a small pressure against his hand. He looked up slowly, not sure if he really wanted to.
He could see that Colin's fingers had tightened around his own, ever so slightly.

"I'm here, Col," he assured softly. "I'm not going to leave you." Ryan squeezed the
hand tightly, trying to will his own strength into his friend. He felt the pressure again,
still marginal, but he sighed in relief. It was enough, for now.

For the first time in days, Ryan felt things would work out. He was determined to
make sure they did.

"I promise I won't leave."

*******************************************************

Colin swam in endless darkness. He could see nothing, nor could he hear a sound.
Everything was gone, leaving him with an emptiness he couldn't have known existed.
He looked around, wishing for a moment of light, and found none. He called for help,
but the blackness swallowed his words as they left him.

He remembered then, the sound of the engine dying, the ground coming up on him as he
clutched his armrests on terror. He hadn't had time to think of anything, except that he
would die, and before he even finished that thought, pain had come to him, followed by
the darkness.

Colin shuddered, curling up into a ball. He'd never felt so alone. What was this? Hell?
He wasn't sure, but whatever it was, he prayed it would go away soon. As he bowed
his head, hiding his face in his knees, he thought he heard the faintest of whispers.

"Hello?" he called, closing his eyes in discouragement when his words stayed with him.
Even if someone was talking, they'd never hear his response. But when he was about
to ignore it, the whisper returned, and he swore he felt something. A hand maybe? he
reached out his fingers, and felt it again.

Squeezing his fingers, he prayed that the ghost hand could feel it, and understand.
"I'm here," he breathed. "I'm right here."

*******************************************************

When Drew came back later that morning, Ryan persuaded him to go home. He knew
Drew wouldn't want to stay in Vancouver for too long, and he had no intention of
leaving until Colin recovered. Once Drew was convinced that Ryan would be all right
without him, Drew reluctantly agreed.

Ryan basically lived out of the hospital for the next couple of days, only leaving to
smoke, eat and catch a shower at a local gym. He often slept at his friend's bedside,
listening to the doctor's words of encouragement with half awareness, and watching
for any signs of change.

Ryan was slumped in the chair next to Colin's bed, his slow, even breathing indicating
that he was asleep. Even so, he was startled awake by the pitiful moans a few feet
away.

He stood, grasping Colin's hand, instinctively rubbing the older man's palm with his
thumbs. After a few moments, Ryan smiled as he saw, for the first time in what
seemed like an eternity, Colin's brown eyes open to look at him.

He'd finally won his battle against unconsciousness, although the effort to even crack
his eyelids open the slightest bit left Colin weak. He scanned his surroundings
momentarily, barely able to make out anything around him.

"Hey Col," Ryan whispered, unable to hide the sheer delight on his face even if he'd
wanted to. It took a few moments, but Colin finally recognized the voice and the still
fuzzy outline of his friend.

"Hey Ryan," he breathed hoarsely, unable to speak from the pain in his throat the
ventilator had left. He squeezed Ryan's hands, trying to draw strength from them.
When he opened his mouth again to speak, he found it was impossible.

"Don't strain yourself," Ryan scolded, "you're not ready to talk yet." The look of
frustration he was met with sent a little pang of sympathy fluttering through him. Colin
managed to mouth out one word: 'where?'

"You're at a hospital in Vancouver," he answered simply. "Do you remember what
happened?" Colin nodded slightly, closing his eyes in pain. When he opened them
again, there were questions swimming in his eyes. Ryan didn't need to be asked. "After
the crash, they brought you here. That was four days ago."

Colin's eyes widened fractionally, the awareness that he lost a few days of his life
hitting him square in the chest. Ryan saw his anxiety and tried to reassure him.

"You're going to be all right now," he said, pulling his chair closer and sitting down.
Colin nodded, and closed his eyes again. He drifted into a restless sleep, the only
comfort he felt in the touch of his friend's fingers on his own.

*******************************************************

The darkness enveloped him again, and Colin found it difficult to keep from panicking.
There had been light once, and surely it would return. He remembered clearly Ryan's
voice, telling him he'd be all right. Ryan wouldn't lie to him about anything that important.

But it seemed that an eternity had passed, and still the darkness was there. Colin felt
more alone than he'd ever been, and with every passing moment, his anxiety took the
place of his hope.

Although he had never admitted it to anyone, the past several years had been very hard.
When he was younger, it was easy to convince himself that he'd be fine on his own. But
now that he was no longer a young man, Colin began to fear more and more that he'd
never find love in his life.

But he couldn't let that deter him. Look at what Ryan was going through now. When he
received that phone call from his friend, it was like reliving the past. Colin had felt so
sorry that Ryan had to go through that himself. But Ryan was strong; he'd make it
through this and probably come out better for it.

And Colin envied him for it. He knew he could never be that strong. If he had, he
wouldn't be alone now. It was something he would always look up to, a lesson he
could always watch, but would never learn.

Colin sat in the darkness, praying it would soon end. He wasn't sure how much longer
he could bear being alone. Slowly the black began to leak away, and he felt himself
drifting to awareness.

He awoke to the slow, steady rhythm of the heart monitors, and he opened his eyes to
find little light in the room. The sudden urge to panic when he noticed the room was
empty was driven down by his common sense. There couldn't be someone in there at
every moment.

A few minutes later, Ryan entered the room, and Colin had to hide his relief.

"Hey Col, sorry I left. You haven't been awake much the past day," Ryan said
apologetically. Colin waved his hand slightly, and only realized with his friend's
shocked statement that it was the first real movement he'd made since the accident.

"S'okay," he croaked. "You can't be here every second."

"How are you feeling?"

"Like shit," he replied honestly. "But hey, that's better than I've been all week." He
smiled, doing his best to hide the dread his dream had left him. Ryan chuckled, patting
his shoulder lightly before taking a seat.

There was silence for a few minutes, as Ryan appeared to be thinking carefully over
what he was going to say.

"Col, I uh... I just wanted to apologize for being an asshole that night." Ryan's voice
was low and a little hoarse. Colin had to think for a moment before realizing what
Ryan was referring to.

"I should be the one apologizing. It was obvious you didn't want to talk about it. I just
need to realize that some things are too personal." Ryan shook his head.

"You had every right to ask, and I'm sorry I snapped at you," he answered. Colin
thought he saw a look of regret in his friend's eyes, but figured it was just the dim
lighting in his room. "And I meant it when I said it wasn't you."

Colin could see the stark seriousness in Ryan's face.

"I believe you."

Colin noted Ryan still didn't mention what was wrong, but it seemed as though it
wasn't bothering him anymore, and Colin decided not to mention it again. If Ryan ever
wanted to talk, he knew he could count on him to listen.

Colin sighed, shifting a little in his bed. With every movement, he grimaced, and Ryan
frowned.

"Are you in a lot of pain? I could get the doctor," he asked, concerned. Colin shook
his head, finding a relatively comfortable spot and sticking with it.

"I'm all right, just sore from lying down all this time. Has the doctor said anything yet
about how I'm doing?"

"Well, he was surprised you woke up so quickly; he said it means there's no chance
of brain damage. Hopefully they'll have you up and walking around in another day or
two. After that, you may be able to go home." Ryan smiled at the excitement that
dawned on his friend's face at the mention of home. "But, you're going to need some
help when you get back there, so I'm coming with you. I mean, if that's all right."

"I don't know what I'd do without you, you know that?" Colin said, the affection in his
voice relaying his gratitude. "Of course you can come along. I just don't want you to
overdo it. You look so tired already, staying here all this time."

Ryan closed his eyes for a moment, trying to will away the appearance of fatigue. But
the physical signs were unmistakable; he had circles under his eyes, and had visibly
gotten thinner. The stress combined with the long days and nights in the hospital were
taking a toll.

"I'll be OK, don't worry. I'll have plenty of time to rest up once you've recovered."
Colin made to protest, but Ryan cut him off with a stern look that brooked no
argument. Colin resigned to his friend, mouthing a distinct 'thank you' before closing
his eyes to rest.

He would need the energy when it came time to try and walk, but still a sinking feeling
remained in his stomach as he drifted off. He only hoped the nightmares didn't await
him this time...

*******************************************************

Ryan watched silently as Colin slept. Every time he moved, Ryan could see pain on
his face, and although he knew some of it was physical, Ryan had the feeling that it was
partly emotional as well.

Colin had spoken a few times in his sleep, mostly incoherently, but what was clear was
that something in his dreams was frightening him. Ryan supposed he was still
remembering the crash, but Colin never spoke of it, and he refused to ask.

Still, he couldn't help feeling hurt himself every time his friend winced or cried out in
pain. Those times were only tempered by the occasional quiet moments.

It was at those times that Ryan could watch his friend sleep, and feel the comfort in just
sharing that time with him. Even though Colin wasn't what most people would consider
attractive, he had soft features and a calming presence that Ryan found difficult to resist.

And he was finding it harder and harder to even try. He wanted nothing more than to
hold Colin while he slept, and soothe away the pain that seemed to be adding undue
years onto that normally pleasant face.

Ryan sighed, knowing now was not the time to think about that. Colin needed to
recover first, and Ryan planned to make sure he did.

*Besides, it's not like I know what I'm going to say,* he thought wearily. He'd just
have to cross that bridge when the time came. Until then, he was content to watch and
wait.

*******************************************************

Each time he returned to the void, Colin became more afraid that he'd never leave.
The isolation was beginning to take its toll, as he felt increasingly more withdrawn with
every passing second.

He remembered the feeling of being held, of being comforted, but it seemed like a
lifetime ago. The desire to feel that again was nearly overwhelming.

That's when he looked up to see his friend standing over him. Ryan was looking down
with affection as he offered a hand to Colin. His eyes showed a deep caring that Colin
often took for granted. He reached out to take the offered grip.

But Ryan vanished. When Colin closed his fingers he felt only empty air. Panic welled
up within him as he stood, searching frantically. He called out, but received no answer.
Collapsing in place, he could feel the tears falling before he could stop them.

"Please don't leave me," he whispered pitifully. "I don't want to be alone..."

*******************************************************

"Col, wake up," Ryan urged, shaking his friend's shoulder. Colin started awake,
gasping. He looked up to see Ryan's face through bleary eyes. Sweat lined his brow,
and he let out a long sigh.

"I'm OK," he answered finally, although the words weren't even convincing to his own
ears.

"Nightmare?" Ryan asked, and received a nod in return. "You sounded upset, and you
kept repeating something. I thought I should wake you."

"I was talking in my sleep?" Colin asked, not quite hiding the embarrassment on his face.

"Yeah, you kept saying something like 'I don't want to be alone.'" Ryan's voice
contained a hint of concern, and Colin noticed it.

"Well, you know how dreams can be. I don't even remember it now," he lied. Ryan
raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment.

The awkward silence was broken by a doctor, who entered the room to check on
Colin. His injuries were beginning to heal quite well, and both Ryan and Colin seemed
to anticipate the coming physical therapy with a mix of excitement and anxiety.

The therapist had been in earlier, and she'd left Colin with instructions to practice
walking during the day. As soon as the doctor had left, he sat himself up, using the rail
to pull his legs over the side of the bed.

"You going to try and walk?" Ryan asked, standing. Colin nodded.

"Yeah, got to get it over with sometime. Besides, I'm going crazy just lying there all day,"
he admitted. Ryan grabbed the walker from the far corner, and positioned it just out of
Colin's way.

He pushed himself off the bed and to his feet, closing his eyes to fight back a wave of
dizziness from his weakened body. As he took a step toward the walker, Colin faltered,
doubling over with a jolt of pain.

Ryan reached out without a thought, one hand grabbing his friend's wrist while the other
wrapped around Colin's waist. The older man leaned heavily against Ryan, the searing
ache in his ribs forcing his breathing to become labored.

"Slow, deep breaths, Col," Ryan whispered, pulling his friend up to a standing position.
He rubbed Colin's back in slow, even strokes until his breathing quieted, returning to
normal.

Colin looked up into Ryan's eyes, those deep brown depths meeting the taller man's
hazel ones, and there they remained for long moments. Something was communicating
between them, a moment that words could not express.

Ryan could feel Colin's breath on his face, could see emotions in those eyes that he
could not identify. Colin couldn't move, his whole body locked in place by the intensity
on Ryan's face.

As quickly as it began, the moment ended. Ryan pulled away, clearing his throat and
turning his gaze to the floor. Colin blinked a few times, as though coming out of a daze.
He silently wondered what just happened.

"Maybe you should take a few minutes before trying again," Ryan finally said, his voice
sounding husky. Colin nodded, sitting back on the bed. "I'm going to have a smoke."

Ryan left hurriedly, rushing down the stairs and out the front door. Even without a
mirror, he knew how flushed his face must have looked. He shook his head, trying to
clear the haze that was still settled there, and pulled out a cigarette with shaking hands.

It was getting harder to hide his feelings, and Ryan knew it would be impossible once
he was living with Colin for even a short time. The only thing in his way was that
consuming fear of losing his best friend; he almost preferred the torture of being forced
to stay away, if the alternative was to lose his friend altogether.

But fate had nearly done the work for him, and Ryan realized he had to make his
feelings known. There was no way to be sure if tomorrow would ever come, and he
couldn't let anything happen to either of them without Colin knowing his feelings.

Ryan sighed, releasing a long breath, and pushed the tension aside. As soon as Colin
was recovered, he would tell him everything. He had to; in his heart he knew it. Until
then, he may as well enjoy their time together.

He thought for a while as he leaned against the wall. Ryan was never as good at
reading people as his friend was, but he felt something was troubling Colin. For a
moment he wished to have that insight, but resigned to the knowledge that he couldn't
solve the problem on his own. He would confront Colin and try to help him in
whatever way he could.

Ryan took a long drag before tossing the butt on the ground and going back inside.

*******************************************************

Colin watched Ryan go, noting the urgency on his friend's face. He rubbed his temples,
feeling a headache coming on. Whenever Ryan left the room, so too did Colin's sense
of comfort. He found himself more eager than ever to get out of the hospital and back
home. With Ryan there, things would be easier.

He worried for a moment; the last thing he wanted was to get too comfortable with this
arrangement. After all, eventually Ryan would be gone, back to his own life, and Colin
would be alone again.

The thought suddenly terrified him, as he realized he was trembling. That look Ryan had
just given him; what was it? Affection? Love maybe? Why did he want to see it again?
Was his loneliness making him see things that weren't there?

*No!* Colin shook his head vehemently, understanding what he nearly admitted to.
*I won't let it happen!* he shouted at himself inwardly. After all those years of being
alone, of being celibate, and suddenly his best friend was threatening to take away
what he resolved to keep years ago. Being alone was better, he'd convinced himself
of that. Anything was better than the pain he would live with for the rest of his life.

"Never again," he growled, forcing his heart to listen. "I won't let myself need him.
I can't need anyone again..."


*******
TBC...
*******

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