What Can I Say?

"When I hear your voice It's drowning into whispers You're just skin and bones There's nothing left to take No matter what I do I cant make you feel better If only I could find the answer To help me understand Sometimes I wish I could save you And there's so many things that I want you to know I wont give up till its over If it takes you forever I want you to know" - Simple Plan

At some point Melody was able to move Nick onto his bed but he would let go of her when she tried to clean up the glass. Nick wanted Melody next to him, it could have been the liquor in his system but Nick didn't care at that moment.

"I need to clean up that mess." Melody said as she moved Nick's arm from around her.

Nick reluctantly let Melody go and watched with half open eyes as she left the room in search of a broom. A few minutes later she returned and began to clean. She picked up the discarded papers around the room, stuffing them back into the note books they belong. She tried to hurry and clear the glass but there was so much of it.

"Mel?" Nick asked his voice hoarse.

"Yeah, Nick." Melody asked looking up at him.

"Thank you." He mumbled sleepy. He closed his eyes and fell into dream land.

Melody sighed and finished cleaning the glass. After putting the cleaning supplies away she didn't know what to do with herself. She could stay and wait for Nick to wake up or she could leave and act like this never happened. One look at the peaceful look on Nick's face and she knew she had to go. She couldn't stay and remind him that she saw him at his lowest point.

"Bye, Nick." She whispered to the sleeping man in front of her.

****

The next morning Nick woke up with a pounding headache. Through the day and the night before he had been in and out of his bed to the bathroom. This was the first time he had ever had a hang over like this before.

"Nick are you up?"

Nick groaned as Karen's annoyingly high pitched voice meet his ears. "Yes." He moaned.

"Do you want something to eat?"

"No."

Nick placed his head under his pillow to keep the light from hitting his eyes and the noise from entering his ears. He tried to remember what happened the night before but the last thing he remembered was the red head he brought home. He remembered what they did and then it was blank. He didn't know if he had sex with the girl or if she left before they could. He didn't remember anything.

"Shit." He mumbled under his breathe.
"Language, Nicholas."

Nick jumped at the sound of the voice. He moved the pillow aside and saw his mother standing in the open door way. She had a sad smile plastered on her face. He placed a hand to his head as it hurt even more by the sudden movement and light.

"Hey mom." He said quietly.

"Get up." She said instead of a greeting.

"What?" Nick asked. He wasn't in the mood to deal with mind games.

"Get up, now."

Nick was slightly afraid of his mother. She hadn't been stern with him since he had started his down fall.

"Why?"

"You have a visitor."

Denise Jonas was done with her son acting like this. She had tried to play the mother that didn't notice her son changing. She didn't say anything to him when she noticed his appearance change or when she heard the stories about him and various girls. But now she couldn't just sit around watching her son kill himself.

"When was the last time you checked your blood sugar?" She asked noticing Nick's diabetes supplies laying untouched on his night stand.

"A couple days ago." Nick admitted.

"Are you trying to kill yourself?" Denise asked. "Why are you doing this?"

She hide the tears that wanted to pour out of her, she had to stay strong for the whole family. Nick slowly sat up in his bed and pushed his blankets aside.

"I'm sorry." He whispered ignoring the questions "I'll be out there in a few minutes."

Denise sighed but left her son alone to dress. Once in the hall she went straight to the bathroom across the hall. She locked the doors and then slid down the door. She let out the tears she had hid from Nick. She never wanted to see Nick like that, ever. He looked worse then when he was diagnosed with diabetes, he looked dead. This wasn't her Nicholas, this was someone different.

Nick walked into the bathroom connected to his room and turned on the shower. He jumped in and let the scalding hot water wash over his aching body. He picked up the soap and washed his body of all the dirt and who knows what else.

When he was done he wrapped a towel around his waist and brushed his teeth. He felt robotic like this wasn't really happening. He walked back into his room and found the only clean clothes he had, a pair of black basketball shorts and a white v-neck. Not caring about what his hair looked like he walked out of his room, at the same time his mom walked out of the bathroom. He noticed she was wiping her eyes with a tissue. He felt his chest tighten at the thought that he was the cause of her pain.

"You look better." She commented. She smoothed down his hair like she used to when he was kid. "Much better." She smiled another sad smile.

Nick looked down at his feet while he walked behind his mother, a women he never saw break. He loved his mother and hated seeing her hurt. They entered the living room which was filled with people.

"Take a seat Nicholas." She instructed.

Nick stopped in the entrance of the living room. He looked around the room at the faces of all of his friends and family, none of them met his gaze.

"What's going on?" Nick asked taking a step into the room.

"We need to have a talk." Joe spoke up. He held onto Karen's hand as they stood next to each other behind the couch.

"What is this like an intervention?" Nick asked with an unhappy laugh.

When no one denied this Nick stepped back. He wasn't going to do this, not now. He couldn't listen to them talk about him and his problems.

"Seriously?" He asked angry. "I don't need this."

"Yes, you do." One of Nick's oldest friends spoke.

"No, Demi, I don't." Nick returned. "I'm fine."

"Nick, please just sit down."

"Fuck you." Nick spat at his oldest brother. "You can all go to hell."

And with that Nick ran from the room and to his bedroom to grab his bag before rushing outside to his car. He wasn't going to sit there and let them tell him he has problems. He sped away from his neighborhood and into the busy Los Angeles traffic. He had no where to go, he realized as he drove around downtown L.A., he could stop at a restaurant since hadn't ate anything. That's when a thought came to his mind. He didn't have to eat alone; he could call someone to join him. He knew who he wanted to call, the only person he wanted to be with.