A/N: Hello, wonderful world of fanfiction! This is a fic dedicated to the wonderful, amazing, and plobnrg chibiyugixyami (whose name I, two months later, can now spell correctly) and silvereyed angel. They are the bestest fanfiction friends a girl could ever ask for, and since they've been really kind to me, I've decided to be kind to them back. So here is your story, girls. It seems a little cliché at the beginning. I'm trying really hard for it not to be. The idea kinda is based off of some fanfictions I've read, a few of them on this site. So you all can go read "Lost Brother" and "Lost Lives" by chibiyugixyami and you'll sorta see where some of this plot comes from. Sort of. I promise, it's going to be different. I'm trying really hard. Below is a summary, and I don't own JONAS, so thanks for reading! (PS. Surprised by the Owl City reference? You shouldn't be. Just get used to them. They're plentiful.)
It's been three years, seven months, and seventeen days since Nick Lucas disappeared. It's been two years, eleven months and twenty-three days since he was pronounced dead by the police. And now, it's been exactly ten minutes since he was able to escape the people who have been holding him captive for the last couple years of his life. When he had been taken, he was thirteen years old. He was just beginning to find his voice and discover who he is in the world. But all that was ruined on the day he was taken. Joe and Kevin never saw their brother again after March 15th, 2006. And Nick would never want anything more than to break free.
The people who took him are part of an illegal corporation that he doesn't even know the name of. And while he was living in the shadows of secrecy, they used him and fifteen other kids his age as lab animals to test new drugs and such. Eleven out of those fifteen kids died in the labs. He survived, but not unchanged. The drugs he was given had mutated his genes, and now, Nick is able shapeshift, use telepathy, telekinesis, and mind control, and is virtually indestructible. Now, the head of the corporation wants to make these kids his minions, but they're stronger than that.
Now seventeen, Nick has finally escaped. But he's not the same person his family remembers. At thirteen, he was still a boy, but now he's seventeen and almost a man. He's no longer got his high voice and boyish face; he's matured and grown up. The only thing he wants is his family, but after he's changed so much, will they even recognize him?
But that's not the only problem. The Corporation isn't going to let these kids slip through their fingers. They're going to bring them back, no matter what the cost, no matter how many deaths it takes. If Nick's going to ever be able to return to his life again, he'll need to destroy the company who's made him who he is, and prove to his brothers, who are now famous and in a band that isn't their own, that he is, in fact, their brother.
One thing's for sure: everything is never as it seems...
...so close yet so far, but in my heart you're here with me, you did not leave, you just went to live in eternity...
When I was little, I thought that the scariest things I would ever see, hear, or read would be in movies or books. That was before my brother died. And if that was heavy subject for me to even think about, the (form) letter we received that was slipped under the door was dealing with the matter in such a light and joking way it was sickening. If they were trying to make it seem like a good thing that they had taken my brother, they epically failed.
That was three and a half years ago. He was thirteen years old when he was taken. I was sixteen, Kevin was eighteen. Now I'm twenty, and Kevin's twenty-one, soon to be twenty-two. If Nick were alive today, he would be seventeen years old.
My brother always loved music, so in honor of him, Kevin and I continued our band. Or at least tried to. That failed, but the record company liked us, so they merged us with some other guys, and before you could say "boy band", that's what we were, puppets of the American dream. Kevin and I took it all in stride, and at first, never missed a chance to bring up Nick and remember that he was the real reason we were here; after all, it was his solo project that got the record to notice us in the first place.
However, the record company didn't like us talking about "some dead guy" all the time, and threatened us easily – if we didn't stop talking about him, they'd replace us in the band. And that was that, our little brother's name was forgotten in Hollywood, and we were famous. The night before the start of our first tour, however, Kevin and I made a promise – that we would never forget why we were here and always, always remember our little brother.
But as we got older, the wisp of a memory I had of Nick seemed to get smaller. The farther we were pushed into the trappings of fame and stardom, the harder it got to remember his curly hair and brown eyes, so young and so innocent. He was so unworthy of death, and it was like his ghost was beginning to haunt me – because I had forgotten him.
It wasn't a ghost, though, because part of me thought that there was a chance that my brother could still be alive. I never brought it up, not even with Kevin, because I didn't want to be written off as insane. But anyone missing for more than eight months is normally pronounced dead, and now it had been three years. So what made me think that he was still alive?
Maybe it was because in every person I looked at, I saw bits and pieces of Nick. Kevin had the same curly hair (a family trait), Logan (our drummer) had his deep chocolate eyes, Cameron (the bassist) had his same passion for music that he had, and Ethan (keyboardist) had his sly, sarcastic sense of humor and awkward smile. Even in complete strangers, I saw my little brother. And something about all this told me that I would never stop feeling guilty about our loss.
And one day, while we were touring in New York, I saw a boy who looked so achingly familiar it made my heart hurt. A boy, about seventeen. Curly hair, brown eyes, same freckles, even. He was staring at me, at Kevin, wonder in his eyes and a look of longing upon his face. And I wasn't afraid to stare right back at him, wondering what made him so intriguing.
"Dude, snap out of it," Cameron said, waving his hand in front of his face. "It's New York. What's so exciting across the street?"
"Him," I breathed, not wanting to point. The boy walked at the same pace as us, as if he were following us. Behind him trailed two girls and another boy, who were also discreetly staring.
"What about him?" Kevin asked, following my gaze.
"He looks like Nick."
Our little parade of the five of us, plus our body guard, stopped abruptly. People wove their way in between us as everyone waited for me to stop staring at these people across the street. "Joe, I'm sorry, but he's dead," Logan said softly.
"You never met him," I snapped, looking to the drummer briefly. And when I looked back, he was gone, like a ghost of a nightmare or a dream. Like he had never even existed.
"Come on, Joe, let's go," Kevin said softly, pulling me closer to him. "Stella's waiting for us back at the hotel, she said she has some new designs to show us." Which was also just an excuse to see me again. We'd been dating for two months now. "Joe. Please."
With one final look back, I allowed everyone to continue. But the boy's eyes were so familiar... what was it about them that made me think that I knew him? Was it at all possible that the grown-up teenager across the street was my brother?
"Joe, you look like you've seen a ghost," were Stella's first words to me when I walked into the hotel room. She was by my side in an instant, holding my hand and squeezing it as if I were unresponsive. Around the room, measuring tapes and bits of cloth were strewn all over.
"I think I have," I breathed softly.
"He didn't really look a lot like him," Kevin remarked. "In some ways, I can see why you'd think that, but overall, you're just overreacting."
"He would be seventeen now, Kevin, it's not like he was going to stay thirteen forever." I sighed. "Of course he's not going to look the same. It's puberty, adolescence. I doubt that even if we heard him sing, he would sound the same. His voice would be lower. He'd be practically an adult."
"Who are you talking about?" Stella asked, picking up a measuring tape, motioning to Ethan to get up on a stool, and began taking measurements.
Ethan sighed. "Nick," he said. The name frequented our private conversations enough for anyone that was close enough to us to know exactly who we were talking about. The fans would have no idea; not many knew that we had a younger brother who wasn't Frankie.
Stella fell silent for a minute, she had known him, after all, even if the other band members hadn't. We'd been friends since we were five, since Nick was two. If anything, Stella would know how to deal with my problems if Kevin didn't. "Joe," she said finally. "Ever think about letting go?"
"All the time," I muttered as Ethan stepped down and Logan stepped up.
"We get good songs out of it, though," Cameron said with a grin, unwrapping a pillow chocolate and plopping down on the couch.. "Except we can't sing about death all the time. The record execs would flip."
"The record 'flips' whenever we come to them with a song that's even remotely personal," Ethan complained, sitting down next to Cam. "Because apparently we really shouldn't be singing about Fiona Skye or any other relationships." His eyes flickered to me. "Besides, Joe's always in the most intense relationships anyway. And everyone always breaks up with you because you're too moody."
"I broke up with Taylor." I tried to defend myself. That wasn't quite the relationship to use.
"And that's certainly something to be proud of, Joseph, breaking up with someone in a twenty-seven second phone call." Logan rolled his eyes.
I rolled my eyes. "Can we change the subject?"
And change the subject we did. By the end of the day, Nick was once again living at the back of my mind and everything was back to normal. I didn't think I would ever see that boy again.
And yet, I knew that I would. It was the beginning of something... I just didn't know what.
...looking at a picture of you in my hands, wondering if i'm ever gonna see you again...
A/N: Comments? Reviews? Ideas for their band name? I'd love to hear them. :) So press the green button below and leave your message after the beep! -beep- Whoops, the beeping machine is broken. So just leave a review. :)
This isn't as long as I'd like it to be, either, but... it's the start of a new story. The chapters get longer.
Disclaimer: I also don't own the lyrics to "Eternity" by the Jonas Brothers. Well no duh. I'm no freakishly hot guy from New Jersey. Probably just the opposite. .