Making the Album

"So...where's Barry?" Jay asked. "How come that bastard hasn't been in to see me?"

The immediate silence must have given Jay some idea of the situation, because his smile faded slightly.

"Seriously, you guys...where is he?"

Billie scuffed his sneaker against the linoleum. Tre became very interested in the veiw from the window. Blondie flushed and dropped his drumstick. Tony sighed and curled up beside Jay on his hospital bed.

"Jay...Barry might not make it."
"You're kidding." Jay looked at her as if she had two heads.
"I wish I was. The bullet shattered his ribcage and punctured his lung. He passed out and suffered a concussion and multiple fractures. The lung collapsed. He went into shock from blood loss."
"Yeah, but...but they can fix him!" Jay was looking at them and no one could meet his gaze. Tears glinted in Billie's eyes. Blondie let out a choked sob. Mike squeezed Jay's hand.
"He might not...he might die before the end of the week." Tom whispered. "Because of me."
"Don't you start." Tony glared at him. "This wasn't your fault."

Tom gazed at her, something like amazement on his face.

"Not my fault? Not my fault?" He paused, trying to control himself. "Tony, he came looking for me. The only reason he tried to shoot Billie, shot at Jay and Mike, was to hurt me. He wanted me to see my friends die before he killed me too. And I can guarantee you, if I hadn't been on that stage two nights ago, you'd all be fine and dandy, no hospitals, no mortal wounds, no death sentance for a man who's too young to be dying."

Then Tom kicked the wall and walked out of the room.

---

He didn't know where he was going. He didn't want to leave the hospital, that was for sure. If anything changed, if Barry...no, he wanted to be there when they told everyone that Barry was going to be alright.

"Sir?"

Tom nearly jumped out of his skin. He turned around to face the nurse. She was a petite blond woman in her early forties with a wrinkled face and a handful of gray in her hair. She smiled at him.

"That man, Barry. He's awake and he's been asking for you."
"For...for me?"
"Well, your name is Tom, isn't it?" He nodded. ";He's been asking for you and Billie. You can go in first, while I fetch Mr. Armstrong."

She ushered him into the room and vanished.

---

Barry looked small. He'd been a tall twenty-three year old who wore expensive suits and had sleek black hair and an earring. Now his hair was mussed from the pillow and his earring was gone and his bare chest was a mass of bandages. He was surrounded by beeping machines instead of a soundboard, and there was no twinkle in his eye. Barry looked tired and drained. He looked like a dead man walking, and that alone brought tears to Barry's eyes.

"Tom..." Barry gasped out, eyes widening. He attempted to push himself up into a sitting position, but didn't have the strength.
"Don't, man. Save your strength." Tom replied quietly, taking a seat next to him. Barry lay back, breathing heavily. The machine beeped ominously.
"I...I don't have much time left." Barry said, his voice barely more than a whisper.
"Don't say that. You'll be fine, the doctors-"
"The...doctors are full of shit...I'm dying...I can feel it."
"God...this is my fault, Barry. I'm so sorry." Tom felt a tear slip down his cheek. Barry shook his head.
"Not...your fault. You didn't pull the trigger...I made my choice...I could've stayed on the sidelines, and let...Billie...get shot. But I didn't. I did...the right thing."
"But-"
"Tom...this is the way I would've wanted to go..."

There was a pause. Hot tears dribbled down Tom's cheeks and Barry watched him, his face pale against the pillows.

"Tom...let Rabbit...let him produce your albums...tell him that...tell him that Barry...that Barry's proud of him."

Then the pillow seemed to sink a little and Barry gasped.

"Where's...where's Billie?"
"Right here, Barry."

And Billie's strong, callused hand reached over Tom's shoulder and grasped Barry's hand. Tony was beside him, crying very quietly, and Blondie was there. Tre was sobbing, leaning up against the wall. Jay was there too; Mike had carried him down the hall piggyback.

"Billie...I'm...I'm so sorry...I never should've kissed her..."
"It's fine. I understand."
"I'm glad...you're okay..." Barry gasped, his eyes taking in the scene.
"I wish you were okay." Billie replied, his voice strained.
"Tony...where's...?"
"I'm here." She said, her mascara running in streaks down her face.
"Take...good care of him...promise?"
"I-I will." She replied, kissing him gently on the cheek.
"And Mike! Where's Mike...and Jay?"
"We're right here." Jay told him, strangely calm.
"You guys...you're good together...you're in love." Barry said weakly, smiling. "Stay...stay in love."

And Tre stepped forward, putting his mouth beside Barry's ear. Barry raised an eyebrow, but didn't object. Tre took a deep breath and whispered into Barry's ear, "Last night, me and Blondie, we found the bastard who did this to you. And we beat the shit out of him. And...I-I think we killed him."

Barry's eyes were wide as Tre pulled away.

"It was an accident, but I'm not sorry. After what he did to you...I'm not sorry."

Barry nodded solemnly, wincing at the movement.

"I...Thanks, both of you, thanks."

Blondie slapped Barry a gentle high five, careful not to jostle him or damage any of the tubes.

"See you around, Barry."
"I...I hope so. You're...Blondie, you're the best...drummer I've ever...had the pleasure...of working with..."

Blondie pulled away, face contorted with pain. He gripped his drumstick tightly as he leaned back against the wall. Rabbit suddenly appeared in the doorway, wordless, searing pain radiating from him in waves. He stepped forward, shoving Mike to one side, to take Barry's pale hand in his own. Barry sighed, looking up at him.

"...I'm..." Barry paused. The machine next to his bed went wild, beeping shrilly. Barry smiled and squeezed Billie's hand.

"I'm...I'm ready." He whispered, with that crazy grin that made him look like Sid Vicious.

Then the pillow seemed to sink a little and Barry let out a tiny gasp. He stiffened, eyes wide, roaming their faces as though memorizing them. And then, before anyone could yell for a nurse, Barry exhaled peacefully.

He was gone.