I didn't even know where the hospital was, or what direction I was heading, or even what I was going to do when I got there. I just knew I had to go; I couldn't risk having another Dad scenario. There was no way.

I rushed to the nearest cab I could fetch and told him to bring me to the hospital. The problem was, there is way more than one in New York City. I took a chance and guessed where he might be and crossed my fingers. Please, oh please let this be the right one, I thought as I ran out of the cab, almost forgetting to pay the driver.

My heart was pounding in my chest in a nervous scared kind of way as I went in; he had to be alright. He just had to be.

I pretty much bolted past the front desk and I heard the nurse yelling, "Miss! Miss! You aren't allowed in there!" But I didn't care. I was willing to bend the rules.

I searched around eagerly, hoping to see Nick or someone else of the Jonas clan around.

Instead, I bumped into him.

"Nick," I said, all out of breath, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to -"

"It's okay," he reassured me, and I could see by his eyes that he had been crying. I could also see that he didn't want me to know.

"Could you tell me what happened?" I asked, but it was really more of a command.

"I don't know exactly what happened, but it was a car crash. He said he was going for a drive, and then some drunk driver hit him head on." His voice was even, but I could see him trying to hide the fact that he was scared.

"There's drunk drivers out in the middle of the day?" I asked, bewildered.

He shrugged. "I guess so."

How could people be so irresponsible?

"What happened to the drunk driver?" I asked bitterly.

"He's dead," Nick replied flatly.

"Oh." I had to get off the subject of death. "How is he?" I whispered softly. "He's gonna be okay, right?"

"Right now he's unconscious; they think he might have a concussion. He's got some broken bones and he lost a lot of blood, too. But there were no internal injuries at least."

He still didn't answer my question, I thought. "How is he though?" I repeated.

"I don't know..."

"Could I see him?"

He nodded and pointed to a room across the hall. "It's right there, room 205. Just go ahead."

I smiled at him as much as I could manage, and I headed towards his room. My legs felt like Jell-O and it seemed like my knees could give at any minute.

I stopped dead in my tracks when I stepped into the room. I saw him there, hooked up to machines and I could hear the heart monitor beeping every few seconds. There he was, weak and vulnerable, and it brought back terrible memories of when my dad was sick. Seeing someone who is usually so strong, so weak, makes you feel weak too.

I sat down in the chair next to the bed, and tried to calm my nerves a bit before I started talking.

"Hey Joe." My voice came out shaky. "How have things been for you? You know, before the whole car crash thing?"

I knew there'd be no response to that, and I felt kind of silly for talking to someone who didn't talk back. But there were things I needed him to know, things I needed to get out. Whether he could hear me or not.

"'Cause things haven't been so great with me. I've missed you. So bad that it hurts sometimes. But I'm sure you've forgotten all about me by now, what with the girls who you have bowing at your feet...

"I know that I hurt you by leaving, but it was what was best. Or at least, that's what I thought until I actually lived it. Turns out, it kind of sucked.

"And you've gotta get through this, Joe. I know you can do it if you just try. Please." I begged as tears welled up in my eyes. "Joe, if you're listening to me, please stay alive. I can't..." My voice broke.

"I can't stand to lose you. I can't stand to lose anyone else that I..." My words got stuck.

"Anyone else that I love." I pulled out the little piece of paper from the envelope I opened months ago and stared down at it.

"It's from my dad," I said. "It's nothing really, but it meant everything to me. It really got me through some times that weren't that great...I hope it gives you some strength to fight, 'cause you gotta fight for your life. You have to do this for me."

Tears streamed down my face as I placed the letter on the nightstand that was also next to the bed, but not before reading it one last time:

Hold on kiddo.
Love,
Dad.

Then I leaned in and whispered softly in his ear, "I love you Joe."

"I didn't realize you felt that way."

I jumped a little. "Kevin, you scared me."I wondered how much he heard as I saw him standing in the doorway.

"I'm sorry," he said, and he meant it.

"It's okay. I'll be fine."

"Will you?" Right then, I was sure he had heard it all.

"Honestly...I'm not so sure."

He came over closer to me. "You know what? I think you both will," he reassured. "At least, I hope so."

"Me, too," I said, but I was referring more to Joe.

"He was leaving to see you. Nick didn't want to tell you, because he thought you'd be hard on yourself. But I think you deserve to know."

"Great," I said bitterly. "Once again, I am the reason someone gets hurt." A few more tears streamed down my face.

"Makenzie," Kevin said as he put both of his hands on my shoulder and looked me straight in the eyes. "I don't know how many times I have to say this to get it through your head. You aren't the one to blame here. That drunk driver is."
"Kevin..." I whispered as I buried my head in his chest for comfort. "I'm so sorry, really I am."

"I know," he whispered. "I know."

Kevin never seized to amaze me. Even after I cheated on him with his brother and even after all the stuff he heard me say to him now, he could still find it in his heart to forgive me and try to make me feel better.

"How are you?" I asked, lifting my head off of his chest.

"I'm doing alright." he replied, and I believed it. "The first couple months were rough, especially when Joe and I were on tour and I hated his guts. But now everything's okay."

"Good."

"But Joe still isn't. He hasn't been himself since you left, as much as he tries to hide it. He's hurting bad, Kenzie, don't think that he's not."

Yep. Now I was positive he heard the whole thing.

Visiting hours are over," I heard the nurse say. "You have to leave now."

Kevin and I looked at each other and then at Joe. I don't think any of us wanted to leave.

"We could always camp out in the waiting room..." I suggested.

"Sounds good," he replied.

So we (and that included all the Jonas') slept in the waiting room with the uncomfortable chairs, just waiting for morning and praying that Joe would be okay.

Just the thought of him dying killed me, and every time I closed my eyes, I saw him...

But that wasn't anything new.