I wake up and check my cell phone, seeing I’d missed a phone call. I unlock it, checking who called and find they left a voicemail. I read my voicemail and I’m taken aback by what was there, calling the voicemail just to double check if what had shown on the screen was correct. The caller is in hysterics, emotionally destroyed again. This time it had been due to Trace’s cousin, Pete. They’ve been together less than six months and the written voicemail was correct. I throw on a clean set of clothes and bolt for Trace’s place here in LA, mad as hell as I wonder why she didn’t call Justin or JC first.

I pull up to the house, having already called Trace to forewarn him that I would be over very shortly. I jump out of the car and slam on the door, silence greeting me. No car but hers in the driveway. She could be asleep. I wait for Trace’s tragic ass to come home, my ass beginning to hurt from sitting on his steps when he does decide to show up. “Nice of you to finally get here,” I mumble sarcastically.

“Yeah, yeah. What I don’t get is why she hasn’t called JC or Justin, even Lance is a better choice.”

With the door unlocked and open now, I stand in the front hall. “Which room is hers?”

“Hers? Do you mean Pete’s?”

“Whatever room she stays in when she is here,” I clarify.

I’m quickly growing impatient with his bullshit. “The hall off the kitchen on the right, third door on your left.”

I quickly walk to the room that he indicated, turning the knob and finding it locked. I dart for the kitchen, open the drawer she told me has a secret compartment only she knows about and pull a pocket knife with a spring release on it out. I open it and use it to pop the door open. I’m shocked at what I find. “Trace! I’m going to kill your fucking cousin!” I scream, lifting her limp body and moving as fast as I can after taking a quick picture and sending it off to Justin and JC, knowing one of them will no doubt forward it to Lance.

“What in the fuck for?”

“She’s hanging onto life by a single thread and go look at that room,” I growl, quickly darting out the door and heading for the nearest hospital. The second I carried her into the ER, a nurse took one look at her and I and snatches her from my arms. I finally chance looking down after they got her into the room, waiting outside her door and I realize why the nurse had rushed us back here. My clothes are covered in crimson red blood and I lean back on the wall, bawling like a baby out of fear for her. My phone rings and I answer it, informing the caller of the specific ER we had gone to and they say they’ll be here in forty-five to an hour at most. Do I know who I had told that? I know it was someone close to her, someone who’s known her for at least half her life.

A nurse places her hand on my shoulder and I look up, sniffling and wiping my eyes as I look into her amber orbs. “Do you know her name?”

“Samantha Chasez.”

“Birthdate?”

“Ja-January 10, 1983.”

My breath is ragged and I’m scared to lose someone like her. “Closest relative?”

“Joshua Chasez.”

She pushes a pen and paper into my hands, wanting me to write down his phone number and address. “Could you give me his phone number?”

“He-he’s on his way now.”

“What’s your name?”

“Chris Kirkpatrick.”

“My name is Greta. Why don’t you come sit with her?”

I nod and she helps me to my feet, guiding me into one of my best friend’s baby sister’s hospital room. I take her hand, sitting in the chair beside the bed. “C’mon, Bean, you need to stay here.”

“Keep talking to her, she might hold on longer.”

I just called Chris and got word that my sister is in the ER, barely hanging on and now I’m racing to the hospital. I’m on Bluetooth with mom, she had just called me as I locked up my car. “How is she?”

“Mom, I don’t know how she’s doing.”

“Aren’t you there with her?”

“I’m on my way there right now.”

“Why aren’t you there with her yet?”

“You called right after I got off the phone with Chris.”

“What are you going to do when they release her?”

“I can promise you and dad that I’m going to find this Pete guy and kick his ass.”

“Why would you do such a thing?”

“Mom, nobody has the right to put their damn hands on her! Not even Tyler and I do it and she’s our baby sister.”

“Why risk getting arrested?”

“She’s the baby, making it my job to protect her. When will you and dad decide on coming out to see her?”I reply, changing the subject.

“Once you know something.”

A truck hits the side of my back bumper, making me fish tail for a few moments and I curse as I fight to regain traction. “You bastard!”

“Joshua!”

“Mom, a guy hit my rear bumper and made me fish tail.”

“Are you going to call or text me once you find something out?”

“Yes, mom, I will.”

“I love you. Pass it on to your sister.”

“I will, mom. Talk to you soon. Love you, bye.”

“Bye.”

I haphazardly pull into a parking space, jumping out of the car and run into the ER. “Can I help you, sir?”

“Yes, my sister, Samantha Chasez, is here in the ER.”

She quickly checks the information and pages security, one of the guys in blue shirts and black pants with a utility belt greeting her. He glances at her screen and smiles at me. “Follow me, son. Your friend, Chris, has outright refused to leave her side.”

“He’s like a sister to him. We’ve known her since she was barely a teenager and my parents adopted her soon after to protect her.”

“Why is that?”

“Her past wasn’t very, uh, good.”

“Here you go, son,” he tells me, opening the door and motioning for me to go through the green curtain.

I enter the room and sit right on her bed, Chris begging her to hold onto to life. “You can’t let go; we need you here, we can’t be without you.”

“Sam, come on. Pull out of it, you can do it.”

I grab her hand and hold it, it’s warm. “We want you here, you need to stay here with us.”

“Move your fingers if you want to come back to us.” We painstakingly for about 5 minutes, but she doesn’t move other than the breaths she’s taking due to the ventilator. “C’mon, Oshannie.”

“Come on, you can’t leave us in the insane world without you; we would lose our fucking minds,” Chris half jokes, but is also being serious.

I look at him and he nods, silently telling me that I should start talking about some memories she and I share. Justin walks into the room and back out, a loud thump informs us that he punched a wall. I kiss her forehead and leave the room to check on Justin. He has his arms on the wall, his head on one with both hands fisted and one is resting on the side as he angrily cries. I pull him from the wall and allow him to cry on my shoulder. “Man, I’m gonna kill that fucker! She doesn’t deserve this and everyone that knows her would gladly go to jail to avenge her.”

“J, she will pull through and come back to us.”

“How do you know?”

“Who’s to say how long she was left waiting for death to take her? We don’t even know how much blood she had lost in that time. Does she have brain damage? Is there broken bones? Are there damaged tissues? The doctors needed me to show up and consent for her treatments.”

“Mr. Chasez, we need CT scans, x-rays and blood work done,” Dr. Malone tells me. Yes, I’ve been here about half an hour and met with the doctor twice already.

“Do what you have to, I just want my sister back to being herself.”

“Alright, we just need you to sign the treatment consents to run any and all tests necessary and to treat her accordingly.”

I quickly read over it and sign it, having understood that it’s to diagnose and treat her. “Do anything you believe is best and all we ask is to have her back to being up, bouncing around and annoying us,” Chris confesses, nearly ready for the water works to spring a leak again.

“We’re hoping that no permanent damage has been done, but we’ll know more once we run these tests.”

Chris and I launch into memories and start laughing, Justin sitting beside her. He has one leg folded on the bed and the other on the floor, blocking Chris in as he strokes her face. “I still love you, I always will and nobody will ever be able to take your place.”

“You do realize you didn’t have to whisper it?”

He gives me one of the guiltiest looks I’ve seen on his face since he’d been with Britney, but that’s a whole different story in and of itself. “How?”

“PopOdyssey.”

“Wait, I thought you knew before that?”

I wave a hand in Chris’ face and he falls silent. “You know I’ve gotten closer to her and she’s told me more since she was on our final tour together,” I reiterate.

Justin’s eyes travel back to her and he kisses the corner of her mouth, gently stroking her cheek affectionately. “I need my sanity back.”

It’s been three weeks and next Thursday is my birthday. The five of us have entirely refused to leave this hospital room, not counting Joey because he has two daughters and they need him. We didn’t want to miss when her eyes opened again, moved her hand for the first time after being pretty much comatose or even whacking us. We slept in shifts, two in the room at any time. I’m wide awake, watching her and her body shifts. I can’t talk, I’m in shock and slap JC almost out of his chair. “What, Chris?” I point to her and she slips her hand down her face like she’s always done since we’ve known her and stops when she touches the tube in her mouth. Her eyes fling open in shock and she looks at us, wondering what happened. “Pete,” JC tells her and her face contorts as if to say ‘of course he did this to me, dick’. “I can go get the doc for you,” he offers her. She signals for the red nurse call button, pushing it on her own.

“Is there something I can help you with, guys?” a nurse questions, her eyes glued to her clipboard.

Sam claps loudly and the nurse looks dead at us, both of us pointing at Sam. “She woke up.” She looks at her and looks overjoyed. I still haven’t found my voice.

“Let me get the doctor and see what he’d like to do,” she suggests, Sam nodding and shooing her off to do just that.

Sam has been signing to JC and he’s been answering verbally for the past ten minutes, driving me nuts because I don’t know what she’s saying or what they’re talking about. “I know that now, Oshannie. Nick is better than Pete. He’s related to Trace, the same fucker who gave you X.” She smiles, nodding her head and signing again. “No, he’s gotten engaged to Lauren and they have a date picked out. Erik and Calvin have been asking about you.” She signs something and he shrugs. “Just wanted to check up on you.”

“Ms. Chasez,” the doctor addresses her, “I just heard you’re awake and would like the intubation tube removed.” He checks her vitals and chart, noting her blood pressure and oxygen levels.

She signs ‘yes’, JC quickly translating the rest of it. “She’s asking when it could be done and how long before she can leave. She and I don’t really like hospitals.”

“We can do it in a minute and she can leave in the morning if she’s fine tonight. We have to keep her in observation for the night to monitor her.”

We all look at Jazz, signing away faster than I can even tell what she’s ‘saying’. “She said the sooner the better. She survived a case of major dehydration, anxiety attacks and dancing backup on multiple tours back to back meaning she’ll be fine.” He gives her a bored look. “Oshannie, stop being so overconfident.” She signs something. “You did not learn that from me,” he sternly tells her. She signs away again. “You were like this before you met us and our family adopted you.”

“Ready?” the doctor questions, leaning over her lying flat on the bed with his hand on the tube and she nods. “Blow as hard as you can.” She does as he pulls the tube out and she coughs. “Wait an hour before you start talking and drink lots of fluids.”

She nods and he leaves, JC smiling. “You’re a fighter, just like Vikki.” She proudly smiles, nodding her head in agreement. “I knew you’d be fine.”

An hour and a room switch later, she’s smiling even bigger. “Now I can talk, right, Oshai?”

He chuckles, nodding. “Yes, Baby Chasez.”

“You know I hate that nickname.”

“You’re the baby of us four, so it only makes sense.”

“Always justifying something.”

“Wouldn’t be JC if he didn’t,” Justin comments from the door.

“Justin!” she shouts, her arms outstretched and he strides over for a hug. “How long have you been here?”

“Barely half an hour after your brother got here.”

“Who found me?”

I raise my hand and sheepishly look at her. “After you called and I woke up, I raced over to Trace’s and popped the lock to find you Casper white and the room like this,” I indulge, showing her the picture on my phone.

Her eyes widen, a look of shock taking over her features and she covers her mouth. “I was in bad shape, wasn’t I?”

I nod, confirming it. “You were in a coma for three weeks.”

“I’m just happy you’re alive,” JC tells her.

“Ditto,” Justin agrees.

“Double that,” I add.

“I’m a Charpentier and a Chasez, we don’t give up easily.”

“Obviously,” JC comments.

The three of us spent the night with her, watching her become excited soon after waking up and already having the IVs taken out. She packed her things last night and JC made sure to grab her a clean set of clothes to go home in. She’s bouncing on the bed, thrilled to go home. Lance comes in and she jumps off the bed, his arms wrapping around her body and lifting her off the floor to spin her around. They ramble in Gaelic, Lance’s facial expressions going from happy she’s doing well to very angry. “You better not go back to him.”

“No, I’m not. Justin got my things out of his house and I’ll be staying with Oshai until the doctors tell me I’m able to go back to my house.”

He winces. “About that…”

“What now?”

“It got broken into and it was destroyed. I had the police check it out and they found Pete’s finger prints all over the place and he’s been arrested.”

“Good, he deserves it.”

“They asked if you wanted to press assault charges.”

“What did you tell them?”

“I told them I’d talk to you and have you call,” he informs her, handing her a card.

She looks at it, pulling her cell phone from her pants pocket and rapidly dials a number. She quickly explains she’d like to not only press charges, but would also testify if need be and is willing to file a report. She thanks the officer and hangs up.

Once settled in at JC’s, she makes dinner with us and we have a blast making it while goofing off and chattering. We’re all grateful to have her back. The cops called a couple hours later, informing her that she wouldn’t need to testify due to all the evidence left behind and that I had given them the photo of the room.

A few months later, Pete was found guilty of assault and attempted murder. Trace was found guilty to being an accessory to both charges. Pete is now serving a life without parole sentence while Trace got a year in jail and three years of probation. She’s much happier and hanging out with all of our friends, always laughing and smiling now that she doesn’t have to worry about him coming after her in anyway. Then again, what connections does he really have? How safe is she really? Those are questions that I’ll answer in another story altogether, but I won’t soon tell because it’s just not anything to be worried about because we don’t have the answers as is.