Chapter 36

People are touching me and I don't like it. Who the hell is there? I move my head back and forth and then open my eyes. I see a flash of light and quickly close them again.

"Nate! Nate!"

It's Shane. And he's yelling my name.

I slowly open my eyes again. Standing above me is Jason, Shane, Big Rob, and some guy I don't recognize. They're all blurry.

"Nate, say something if you can hear me."

"Ouch…" I croak out.

Shane lets out a sigh of relief. "Oh my god, he's alive."

I look around. This place doesn't seem familiar. "Where am I?" I slur. There are ridiculously bright light and screaming people. Probably not the best place to be with my killer headache.

"We're still on stage," Shane informs me.

"Huh?" I ask.

Shane and some random dude exchange worried glances.

I close my eyes again and try to sleep but someone keeps waking me up.

"You gotta stay awake," the guy says. I don't recognize his voice.

Easy for you to say, asshole.

"Just hang in there," Shane says. "Just a little bit longer and you'll be fine."

"A little bit longer and I'll be dead," I whisper.

The weird guy presses down on my stomach and I gasp. "Bitch!" I exclaim. "That fucking hurt!" I close my eyes and turn away from him, curling into a ball. Who ever it is, they're causing pain so I don't want them near me.

"I'm sorry but I need you to lay on your back," the guy says and then moves me back.

"Who the hell are you?" I ask.

"I'm Doctor Hansen," he says.

I let out a huff of laughter. "Pop and lock, battle dance against Hanson." I giggle a bit. "That's an awesome last name." I close my eyes, but then Dr. Hansen wakes me up again. "Bleh, you," I say. "I'm fuckin' tired."

"I'm sorry but I need you to stay awake for a little bit. Then you can sleep, I promise."

"You're such a liar and you know it."

Shane hits me lightly. "Nate, now is not the time to be an asshole."

"Well what if I want to be an asshole? I mean it's-" I pause here to yelp out in pain. "Shit, Hansen, what the fuck!"

"I didn't do anything," he says.

I feel that same stomach pain again. "Ahh! Make it stop!"

"Where does it hurt?" Hansen asks.

I clutch my stomach and roll over on my side again. The pain goes away. But then Dr. Hansen rolls me back over and it hurts again. "Fucking bitch! It stopped hurting but now it hurts again!"

Hansen presses down on my stomach again.

"Ow! Ow! Ow! If it hurts what makes you think that it's gonna be better if you keep pressing down on it like that?" I ask.

"It's not pancreatitis," Hansen says.

"Hmm," I say. "Let's make a list of all the things it's not. I'll start. It's not a broken arm. If someone asks you what two plus two is, you don't come back ten minutes later and say 'not seven.'"

Hansen looks a bit fed up, but he knows I made a good point.

Shane nudges me again. "Stop."

Hansen suddenly opens up my mouth and I quickly slam it shut. He sighs and takes a flash light and shines it right in my eyes.

"Ah!" I complain and shield myself from the light with my hands.

I'm sure he's really pissed with me by now. "Can you hold him down so I can see something?" he asks Jason and Shane.

Shane grabs my left arm and pins it down to the ground, while Jason pins down my right. I growl a bit at them.

Dr. Evil takes his evil flashlight of death and shines it into my eyes again. He turns it off. "He's jaundiced."

"What does that mean?" Shane asks.

"His liver's failing," Dr. Hansen says.

"Shit," I say. "Sounds like it sucks." I close my eyes.

"I'm thinking it might be Leptospirosis but I won't know until we run more tests." Dr. Hansen tells us.

"Scary words!" I say, creating a dramatic effect.

"Hey, that's what our dog had!" Jason exclaims suddenly.

Dr. Hansen turns to Jason. "When did he get it?"

Jason shrugs. "Our dog died four days ago."

"When did Nate start showing symptoms?"

"I dunno, like a week ago?" Shane adds.

Dr. Hansen wakes me up again.

"What?!" I bark.

"When did you start feeling sick?" he asks.

"Too long ago," I say and close my eyes again.

"Nate," he says and starts shaking me. "I need an exact date."

I ignore him and keep my eyes closed.

"Oh my god, he died!" Jason exclaims.

"Nate, if you can hear me say something," Hansen says. I ignore him. Hell, I don't want to talk to this guy. "I don't know if he's actually unconscious or if he's faking it."

"I'll find out," Shane says and shakes me. "Nate… Nate… Seriously, this is serious." He sighs and then takes off my shoe and my sock. Then he tickles my feet.

"Stop!" I say and quickly sit up. Right as I do, I regret my decision and moan again. "Nut sack, that hurts!" I lay back down, holding my stomach.

"The more you cooperate, the quicker I can let you sleep," Hansen says.

I don't like this guy.

Dr. Hansen reaches into his bag of evil and pulls out some stuff. He puts a thermometer under my tongue. I reluctantly keep the thing in my mouth while he does something else – who knows that?

I feel a sudden wave up sleepiness crash into me and I close my eyes again. I hear a beep and Dr. Hansen takes the thermometer out. "You have a temperature of one hundred five. Nate, why didn't you tell anyone you were sick?"

What did he just say? I must have dozed off.

"We tried to make him see a doctor," Shane says.

"Let me guess – he's scared of hospitals."

"Yeah. Like uber afraid of doctors and everything."

I doze off again.

Shane's point of view

Dr. Hansen turns to me. "We need to get him to a hospital."

I nod and stand up. I go backstage. "Get an ambulance," I tell our stage manager, Carl. Carl sets off somewhere.

I head back onstage. I almost forgot about all the people out here. I grab a microphone. I turn it on. "Uh… hey guys."

I see everyone's camera flashes. You know this is going to be on YouTube tonight.

"So, uh…" How the hell do I start this? "I know you're all worried about Nate. But, uh, he's gonna be okay. We're gonna go to the hospital and … we'll keep you posted on what's goin' on and stuff… So uh… Yeah."

That couldn't have been more awkward.

I turn off the microphone and head over to Nate.

Dr. Hansen turns to me. "He's unconscious again."

"Faking it?"

He shakes his head. "No."

I sigh.

You know that saying, "There are no atheists in fox holes?"

I pray. Dear God, please let Nate be okay.

Did I really just pray?

Weird.

"The ambulance is here," Carl says from backstage.

Big Rob picks Nate up and carries him backstage. Nate lets out a soft moan.

I look over at him. "Nate?"

"Where am I?" he asks.

"Don't worry about that right now; just go back to sleep."

Nate closes his eyes again.

Nate's point of view

I open my eyes and feel dizzy. "Where am I?"

Shane looks over at me. "Don't worry about that right now; just go back to sleep."

I close my eyes and then wake up again when I'm lying down on some sort of hospital thing. A bunch of people are rushing around me.

I can't help but to wonder what's going on.

Shane is standing by me.

"Shane," I manage to croak out.

"Nate!" he exclaims like he's surprised that I was able to speak.

"What's going on?" I ask.

"We're at the hospital, but you're gonna be alright."

"Well I could've figured where I was."

"Just don't worry about it."

"Stop telling me to not worry about it. It's pissing me off."

Shane stays quiet for a bit.

"Ow!" I screech when some nurse jabs me with a needle. "What the fuck was that?!" I'm fully alert now.

The nurse looks at me. "I need to draw some blood for tests. Just relax, okay?"

"No! You're so not sticking anything in me without permission!" I yell at her.

I sit up and Shane puts his hand on my shoulder. "Hey, let the lady do her job, okay?"

I turn to him. "Shane you know about my fear of needles."

He nods. "Yeah, but it's better than dying now is it?"

I shake my head. "I'll take death, thank you."

Shane rolls his eyes. "Just get over it, you pussy. Here, you can hold my hand," he offers and I grab his hand, squeezing it as hard as I can. "Hey! That hurts!"

I smirk, but then scream when the nurse sticks the needle in me again. I dig my nails into Shane's hand, and he screams, too. "Holy Jesus Christ! Praise the lord! Shit! Oh god damn! Fuck, shit, ass, tits! Motherfucker this hurts! Praise the great lord! Save me, save me! Ahh!" I make a huge deal about it. "Help! I'm dying!"

"I already took it out!" the nurse says loudly over my screaming.

I look down at my arm. She didn't lie.

My bad.

"Owww," Shane complains, taking his hand back away from my death grip. His hand has little cuts in it. "Look what you did, Nate!"

I fake-cough. "Don't blame me; I'm so sickly."

"Can I have a Band-aid?" he asks and a nurse hands him one.

"Start him on antibiotics," Dr. Hansen says and leaves the room.

Shane and I look at each other when there's an awkward silence.

A nurse holds up another needle.

"Whoa, whoa, hold the show!" I say.

She pauses.

"You gonna put that in me?" I continue.

She nods.

I faint.