Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Chris gently lowers his phone and turns it off. He glances at Nick across the room, then whispers to Matt, "...psssst... Matt."

"Hm?" Matt looks up from his phone.

"Do you wanna help me prank Nick during the next car video?"

Matt turns off his phone and peeks at Nick across the room. He's wearing headphones and jamming out while on his laptop, oblivious. Matt turns back to Chris, lowering his voice, "How so?"

"So you know how he always gets scared of random shit in car videos?"

"Mhm?"

"What if we gave him something to be scared of?"

"...Okay, I'm gonna be so honest here, you're being really vague. What are you suggesting?"

Chris sighs, "Have you ever seen the Sam and Colby kidnapping video?"

"Dude, what the fuck?"

"So you haven't seen it?"

"No, I have-- are you suggesting we--?"

"Yeah."

Matt thinks for a moment, then says, "Fuck it, we ball."

"Yes! OK, I'll text you the details. I've got one other person on board," Chris picks up his phone from the coffee table and rapidly begins typing something.

"Who?"

"Colby!"

"What?! You were able to schedule a kidnapping but not a video?"

"Sshhhut up," Chris retorts half-jokingly.

"Brooo... Why would he even agree to that after what happened with Sam?"

"Dude chill. They got over it in like three days, and they're not even brothers."

"That's what I'm-" Matt inhales deeply, then lets out an exasperated sigh, covering his face with his hands to ponder what to say. Then he drops his hands and speaks again, "Wouldn't he be more affected 'cause we're brothers? Wouldn't it take longer for him to get over it?"

"No, he would get over it faster . Our bond is stronger dude."

Matt thinks it over again, "I don't know, I don't think it's a good idea..."

"What?! C'mon, you were just on board!" Chris whisper-yells, throwing his hands up in the air with frustration while simultaneously gently tossing his phone onto the couch beside him.

"Yeah, but maybe I changed my mind! I don't want him to hate us."

"Hate us? He's not gonna hate us."

"Well-- not hate us , but you know what I mean."

"C'mon man, please? Colby knows what he's doing. We can't pull it off if you're not in!"

"Well, maybe you should've asked me before you asked Colby ," Matt stands up to walk away, and Chris picks up his phone and puts it in his pocket before following him.

"Will you please just do it? What are you so afraid is gonna happen?"

"Are you guys good?" Nick asks. Both of the other boys are slightly startled at his sudden input. He has pulled one headphone away from his ear and is now staring at Matt. He must've noticed the commotion when Matt stood up.

"Nothing that concerns you, Nick," Chris says as he walks by, still following Matt. Matt makes his way down the hall and turns into a room.

"You sure?" Nick calls down the hall.

"Yes!" Matt and Chris call back before the door slams, and their argument continues.

Nick watches the door for a moment, then puts his headphones back on and continues what he was doing, unbothered.

"Sam and Colby's video was fine, and they're both still really good friends, so what are you so afraid of?" Chris asks Matt, now at a normal volume, confident that Nick can't hear them.

"You know what else happened? Colby and Sam Pepper got a LOT of backlash for it! And their video wasn't 'fine.' Sam was sobbing at the end. Plus, I'm pretty sure he was in on it."

"No way, Sam's acting is ass."

"He literally said he was in on it."

"He just said that so people would get off Colby's ass," Chris retorts, pulling out his phone and typing something as he paces the room, "There's no way he was in on it."

"Oh yeah? DM Colby and ask him."

"What? No- This is- This is off topic anyway," Chris turns off his phone and puts it back in his pocket. He stops pacing and makes eye contact with Matt, "Are you seriously not gonna do it?"

"No. I'm not. And if that means you can't do it, then don't do it. Tell Colby it's off."

Chris lets out something between a sigh and growl and storms out of the room. Nick looks up and pulls one headphone off again as Chris angrily grabs a jacket off the coat rack and leaves the house.

Matt walks back into the living room calmly to grab his phone.

"What's up with him?" Nick asks Matt as he walks past him to grab a snack from the kitchen.

"He wanted to pull a prank on you, and he needed me to help for it to work, and I wouldn't do it," Matt explains, opening the fridge and browsing its contents.

Nick laughs, "What prank?"

Matt walks back into the living room with a Coke and a bag of chips. He sits down at the table with Nick. "Have you ever seen the Sam and Colby kidnapping prank video?" He answers the question with a question, popping the Coke can.

"No?" Nick takes his headphones off entirely. Matt can hear music playing loudly through them before Nick pauses it. "What's that?"

Matt sips his Coke, "Uhm, prolly best you don't know, actually."

"Well, if you don't tell me, I'm just gonna look it up," Nick looks back to his computer and starts typing.

"No--" Matt reaches a hand across the table to halt Nick. Nick stops typing and looks up, confused.

"On second thought, I'd rather just tell you," Matt says. Matt explains the prank Sam Pepper and Colby pulled on Sam a few years back, leaving out some depressing details about how Sam reacted when Colby was 'shot.'

"Damn... And he was going to do that to me ?"

Matt nods.

"Jeez... What'd I do?" Nick chuckles a bit.

Matt laughs lightly with him, "I don't know; did you drink the last Pepsi or something?" Matt sips his Coke.

Nick laughs again, "No, I know better than to drink the last of Chris's Pepsi."

Matt puts his drink down, making a show of clicking his tongue and exhaling deeply, refreshed. "Then I have no idea."

Nick smirks, looks back to his computer, and shuts it, preparing to go back to his room.

"Oh, and did I mention--" Matt adds as he opens his bag of chips. Nick looks up but keeps gathering his things.

"He got Colby to agree to help him."

"What?!" Nick freezes, staring at Matt in shock.

"I know," Matt says, mouth full of chips.

"He was planning a kidnapping instead of a video?"

Matt giggles and nods.

"Even after--?"

"Mhm."

"With Sam?"

"Yup."

"Damn. Is Chris persuasive as hell, or did he just not tell Colby something?"

"Knowing him, it's probably the second one."

"Yeah, you're right," Nick looks down at his things, taking inventory, "Still crazy though."

"Yeah."

Nick starts to walk out when Matt's phone buzzes. He picks it up and grunts in confusion at the notification.

"What?" Nick pauses on the threshold between the hallway and the living room.

"I've got a DM from Colby."

"Really?" Nick excitedly walks over and leans over Matt's shoulder, putting his things on the table. Matt leans away from Nick, hiding his phone, and smirks.

"What's got you all giddy?"

"Nothing. Just wanna see what it says."

"Mhm," Matt sits up straight again and lets Nick peek. Sure enough:

New message from Colby Brock

The blue check next to his name and professional-looking profile photo are enough to convince Matt that it's not just some random fan account, so he taps the notification and unlocks his phone. Instagram takes a moment to load, then brings up a nearly blank message thread with Colby.

>Colby Brock: Are you not gonna help with the prank?

Matt scoffs and smiles at his phone, then quickly types:

>Matthew Sturniolo: No, I don't think it's a good idea.

A few moments pass, and Colby starts typing again. Matt can feel Nick shift next to him. He seems a little too excited to see what Colby is going to say.

>Colby Brock: Why not? We're not actually going to hurt you guys lol

>Matthew Sturniolo: I know, I just don't think Nick would appreciate it, seeing how Sam reacted.

>Colby Brock: Oh wait, you know Sam was acting, right? He was in on it.

Matt immediately screenshots that message and sends it to Chris, with the text, “told u. ” Chris reads it, but doesn't respond. Matt nudges Nick and gestures for him to look at the phone. Nick giggles and says, "Yeah, yeah," quietly. Matt reopens Colby's DMs and messages back.

>Matthew Sturniolo: Lol, that's what I thought. Chris must've left out the crucial detail that Nick wouldn't have been in on it.

Colby reads that message but takes a moment before replying, surely to ask Chris about it. A few minutes later, he messages back.

>Colby Brock: Damn! I did not know that. Thanks for telling me, brother!

>Matthew Sturniolo: Sure!

>Colby Brock: So yeah, we are NOT going to do it if Nick isn't in, lol

>Matthew Sturniolo: Good to know, lol

Nick nudges Matt.

"Ask him about getting together to film."

"You ask him," Matt retorts.

"Fuck no!" Nick pushes himself away from the table and takes a few steps back, "Or--" Nick trails off, trying to find an excuse not to talk to Colby, and starts pacing the room. Matt turns in his chair to watch Nick and smirks knowingly.

"Awhhh."

"What?" Nick stops pacing and looks at Matt.

"Does Nicolas have a crush?"

"What?! No- I just- I don't want to- He probably- He wouldn't talk to me," is what Nick finally lands on as an excuse. He starts pacing again.

"He definitely would,"

Nick whines. "No, you do it."

"Fine. But I'm crediting the idea to you," Matt turns back around in his chair and starts typing.

"Ohoho, don't you dare ." Nick tries to sound angry, but Matt can hear the smile on his face.

>Matthew Sturniolo: By the way, Nick wants me to ask you about maybe setting up a film day.

"Too late," Matt says as the message is sent.

"You little--" Nick walks back towards Matt threateningly but instead leans against the table to look over his shoulder again. "What'd he say?"

"Just give it a second, damn."

>Colby Brock: Oh yeah, great idea! Sam and I just finished Hell Week, so we have some time open.

Matt starts to reply, but Colby sends another message before he can finish.

>Colby Brock: Also, hey Nick ;)

>Colby Brock: Sorry for almost pulling a really harsh prank on you, lol.

Nick doesn't even get to read the last message because he pushes himself away from the table and starts pacing again, head in hands. He makes a loud, almost angry-sounding groan and then says into his hands, "HE WINKED AT ME."

Matt twists in his chair and laughs, swatting an arm towards Nick playfully. "Relax, bro, you're getting all worked up over an emoticon."

Nick makes some more miscellaneous flustered noises into his hands as Matt turns to write a reply.

>Matthew Sturniolo: Nick says it's all good ;)

>Colby Brock: Hah

>Colby Brock: Alright, when are you guys free?

Nick darts back to recheck Matt's phone.

"What'd he say???"

"Dude, relax. He literally just asked me when we're free; calm down."

Nick backtracks a few messages and reads what Matt wrote as a response. His jaw drops.

"YOU WINKED BACK AT HIM???"

"Hehehyeah? What, is that a bad thing?"

Nick cringes (literally) and steps away from the table. "Ouuuhhh, he's gonna think I'm-- Auhhh..."

"You're fuckin' crazy..." Matt smiles and replies to Colby. Nick grabs his things and hurries back to his room.

>Matthew Sturniolo: We're pretty much free till December. We do have to film a car video next week (as you probably know, lol) and then again two weeks after that, but we can film those anywhere. Traveling doesn't interrupt them. Plus, if schedules line up, you and Sam could make a guest appearance :D

>Colby Brock: Yo, sweet! Sure thing, man! Next week might be a bit too soon, but you guys can come out in 3 weeks, that's perfect! How's the 19th sound?

>Matthew Sturniolo: Great! I'll let Nick and Chris know.

>Colby Brock: I'll talk to Sam, too. Btw-- who should I send the details to once I've got them?

Matt pauses, then smirks as he gets an idea.

>Matthew Sturniolo: Nick would probably be best

>Colby Brock: Gotcha, thanks, man!

>Matthew Sturniolo: Np!

>Colby Brock: 🖤

Matt turns off his phone and leaves it upside-down on the table, going to break the news to Nick.

Matt knocks twice and then opens the door to Nick's room. Nick is sitting on his bed, wearing headphones, and watching a YouTube video. He pauses the video and looks up as Matt comes in, pulling one headphone back as he did before.

"Hey, we've got a date."

"Huh?" Nick takes his headphones off and holds them idly, looking confused.

"I said you've got a date."

"What?" Nick lowers his headphones into his lap, even more confused and now looking a bit scared.

"With Colby!" Matt announces enthusiastically.

"WHAT?!" Nick shouts, his arms darting to his sides as he stares at Matt in shock and terror.

"I'm kidding, I'm just kidding. We have a filming day set up with Sam and Colby."

Nick relaxes and places a hand on his chest. "Don't scare me like that."

"...But expect to receive a DM from Colby."

"Matt, be serious."

"Oh, I'm dead serious this time."

"What? Why?"

"I may have told him to send you the details when he gets them."

"What?! MATT."

"Have a good night!" Matt says lovingly as he steps backward out the door.

"MA--"

Matt shuts the door and chuckles lightly to himself as he walks away from Nick's room.

Sure enough, a few days later, Nick receives a DM from the Sam and Colby account with details about the trip. Nick practically shoves his phone into Matt's hands as soon as he sees the notification, demanding that Matt reads it and responds. Matt reluctantly does so, wondering how Nick is going to possibly record two entire videos with Sam and Colby if he can't even manage to read one DM from them. Nevertheless, the message reads as such:

>Sam and Colby: Hey Nick! Just messaging to confirm some details about our upcoming film trip with y'all -S

>Nicolas Sturniolo: Hey! Sure thing! So what's the plan?

>Sam and Colby: Colby and I were thinking of doing a haunted video in a place called Aqua Vista in Utah. We would all fly in the morning of the 19th, get settled all day, then we could record your guys' car video and then do haunted after that. We can recover from staying up so late on the 20th (trust me, we'll have to), and if you guys want to stick around, Colby and I will probably hit up a party in SLC on the 21st. If y'all don't want to stick around tho, that's fine! -S

Judging by the text signature, Sam is the one who had messaged Nick, not Colby. Nick really has nothing to be scared of, but Matt is fine with doing the talking anyway. He consults Nick and Chris about the party, then replies to Sam.

Sure! Matt and Chris are up for it. And we'll definitely show up to the party

Before sending the message, Matt calls out to Nick, "Nick? Are you okay if I send a winky emoticon?"

"NO."

Matt scoffs, disappointed. He always uses emoticons when texting.

>Nicolas Sturniolo: Sure! Matt and Chris are up for it. And we'll definitely show up to the party.

>Sam and Colby: Perfect! Colby and I have already booked us all a hotel, but you guys will have to book a flight and a rental car yourselves, sorry about that :( -S

That's fine! We don't mind

"Nickkk? Can I send a smiley emoticon?"

"Why?"

"He said sorry because we have to book our own flight, and I'm trying to say it's okay."

"Fine."

"Thanks!"

>Nicolas Sturniolo: That's fine! We don't mind :)

>Sam and Colby: 🤍🖤 -S and C

"Nickkkk?"

"If it's not a wink or heart emoticon, you can send it."

"Colby sent a heart."

"WHAT?"

Nick rushes into the room and takes his phone from Matt. Upon reading the message, he covers his mouth and dances up and down on his toes. He joyfully walks out, a huge smile on his face. "Thanks, Matt!"

"Mhm!"

Chapter Text

Three weeks later

After grabbing dinner at a restaurant in Aqua Vista with Sam and Colby, the triplets find a nice empty parking lot, and Sam and Colby pull up next to them. Matt puts the rental car in park and reaches to grab the camera equipment from the backseat. He puts the camera on the dashboard and turns it on as Chris starts turning on the lights inside the car.

"You gonna be okay in the back?" Matt asks as he nudges the camera to straighten it out.

"Yeah? Why? I'm always in the back." Nick asks, confused.

"Well, guests always sit in the back."

Chris snorts out a laugh.

"What are you laughin' at?"

"Nothing... Nothing," Chris mutters, holding back laughter.

"...Yeah, I'll be fine, Matt," Nick answers, still suspicious of Chris.

"You sure? We can switch if you want," Matt pauses before opening his door.

"I'm fine."

"Kay," Matt says, opening his door and getting out of the car to see if the camera shot is good.

Nick had been pretty chill throughout dinner, probably because Matt had forced him to make conversation with Colby over text to get over his fear. He wouldn't have been able to function around Colby in the video otherwise.

Sam and Colby were getting out of their rental car at the same time as Matt. Matt gives them an up-nod as he shuts the car door. Colby up-nods back.

"Hey dude, what's up? Whatcha doin'?" Sam asks.

"Just checking the shot. You can't see from inside the car. Actually- could you guys get in? I wanna make sure the camera will be able to see you."

"Sure."

"Yeah, man."

Sam walks around the other side of the car and gets into the backseat on Nick's right, and Colby gets in on the left. None of the three boys are skinny by any means, but the triplets' rental is pretty wide, so it's not that cramped.

Matt looks at the screen on the camera. He gestures for Chris to rotate the camera slightly left, which Chris does. Just then, someone shouts from across the parking lot at them.

"Hey! What are you boys doing?"

Matt stands up straight and looks in the direction of the voice, seeing two men approaching the car. Chris couldn’t hear the man from inside the car but follows Matt's gaze and spots them. Matt takes one last look at the camera, then holds up one finger to Chris to let him know he'll only be a minute. Chris nods, then all four boys in the car watch as Matt walks over to the two men, stopping under a streetlamp.

"What are you boys doing here so late?" the man repeats as Matt approaches them. The man speaking is about 2 inches taller than Matt, and the other is probably closer to 6 feet tall.

"Hey guys, we're just filming a video. Is there an issue?" Matt says, pointing a thumb back toward the cars. The man speaking looks over Matt's shoulder and briefly makes eye contact with Colby, who is watching through the back window.

"A video? What kinda video?" He asks, looking back at Matt.

"YouTube video."

"Yeah, you boys can't film here."

"...Why not? Is there a problem?" Matt repeats, "Do you guys own this place or something?"

The man speaking glances at his taller partner, who nods once. "Or something," he says, looking back to Matt.

Matt looks questioningly at the man, then says, "On second thought, I think we're going to move to a different lot."

As Matt tries to turn to walk back to the car, the taller man, who has yet to speak, grabs his arm and says, "Oh, no, you're not."

Before Matt can react, he hears a car door open. When he turns, he sees Colby halfway out of the car, one hand on the top of the door. "Hey, do we have a problem here? What the fuck are you guys doing?" He shouts at the men.

Matt hears a click from where the shorter man is behind him and sees Colby's face go white. When he turns back towards the two men, he is met with the barrel of a 9mm, pointed straight at Colby.

"Get back in the car, Mr. Brock."

Ohh , now he gets it. This man knows Colby's name. He and Chris must not have called off the prank after all. He relaxes a little at this knowledge and readies himself for whatever stunt these men will pull.

The taller man, still with a firm grip on Matt's forearm, pulls Matt close and covers his mouth with his hand. Matt struggles against him before noticing the other group of men approaching from the other side of the car. He shouts into the man's hand to alert them. Colby, previously frozen in shock, turns to see what Matt is looking at, then hisses in pain, bending down to grab his ankle.

Then, chaos ensues. In a split second, three men throw open the passenger side doors, grabbing Chris and Sam (kind of a dick move to pull this on Sam again, Matt thinks) and yanking them out of the car. Colby seems to trip on something and falls flat on his face, somebody else coming out of seemingly nowhere to grab him.

As all of this rapidly unfolds, the shorter man hits Matt over the head with his gun, causing his knees to buckle and his vision to blur. He can't help but think it's a little over the top to actually hit him for a prank. He can vaguely see people dragging Sam, Colby, and Chris kicking and screaming from the car. He can't see Nick, but can hear him shouting for the men to get off him. Then, Matt gets hit in the head again, and everything goes dark.

Chapter Text

When Matt finally comes to, he's lying on his left side on a cold concrete floor. Across from him in the narrow room, he sees Colby propped up in the corner with his hands behind his back and a piece of duct tape over his mouth. It's then that Matt notices that he, too, is tied at his wrists behind his back and his ankles. There's a piece of duct tape over his mouth, too.

Next to Colby is Sam, fully conscious and talking. If he had duct tape over his mouth at some point, he has managed to get it off. His arms are tied in the front rather than the back, and his legs are tied, too. He's hobbling around the small room on his knees, talking to who Matt assumes to be Chris. Chris is outside Matt's peripheral vision, but he is talking too. Matt has woken up in the middle of their conversation. He doesn't have the strength to move around, and his head is pounding, so he instead listens to the interaction and tries his best to watch through bleary eyes.

“What do you think happened?” Sam asks Chris.

“I'm not entirely sure, but I think when Colby got out of the car, someone cut his Achilles heel,” It's then that Matt sees Chris scoot on his knees into view, pointing to Colby's left foot with whatever dexterity he has available with tied hands. His hands are behind his back like Matt’s. As the conversation continues, Matt's vision begins to clear up more, and he can better examine the state of his friends. Chris and Sam, from what he can see, seem relatively unharmed. Colby, on the other hand, not so much. His head is leaning back against the wall, and there is a stream of blood, both dried and fresh, running out of his nose, down his face, and onto his neck and the hem of his shirt. He can see dark bruises forming over his nose. Matt also notices the cut on his ankle where Chris is pointing.

“Then they grabbed his ankles and tripped him,” Chris points to Colby's head, “and he may have landed on his nose.”

“Oh fuck, could it be broken?” Sam asks urgently.

Chris thinks for just a second, then says, “Shit, maybe.”

“What do we do? I can't help him like this!” Sam struggles against his bindings to no avail.

“I don't know…” Chris looks down and thinks, nibbling at the skin on his bottom lip. Suddenly, Sam gets an idea.

“His rings, did they take his rings?” He asks, moving closer to Colby.

“I don't know, I don't think so,” Chris pauses momentarily, turning to look at something Matt can't see, “Nick still has his on, so probably not. Why?”

“Great, great, okay, perfect. Come over here and hold his arm so I can get his ring,” Sam orders, and Chris does so, reaching his arms around his side and doing his best to grab Colby's hand. Sam slips the ring off Colby's middle finger and clicks a button on the side. A small blade flicks out of the top of the ring.

“Yes! Okay, come here, let me cut the tape.”

“Colby, you genius! You just saved our lives!” Chris moves towards Sam and turns to let him cut the tape around his wrists. After a minute of digging at it and cutting up Chris’s wrists in the process, the tape snaps, and Chris's hands come free. “Yes! Now give me the ring, and I'll cut you free.” Sam hands the ring to Chris, who makes quick work of the tape. Sam rips it from his wrists and takes the tape off Colby's mouth as Chris cuts the ties from his ankles.

“Chris, give me the ring. I need to help Colby,” Sam says sternly.

“Sure thing.” Chris tosses the ring to Sam, who blatantly ignores the bindings around his own ankles and instead cuts the tape off Colby's wrists. He then gently lays Colby on his back and cuts the ties on his ankles.

“Mmh…” Matt manages to make a weak noise. Both Chris and Sam look over at him.

“Matt, oh my God,” Chris says, kneeling in front of his brother. He places a hand on Matt's head and gently takes the tape from his mouth. Matt can feel that something wet and sticky is caking his hair when Chris touches him. His head is still killing him.

As soon as the tape is gone from his mouth, Matt manages to mutter, “...Help.”

“Sam. Ring.”

“One sec,” Sam finishes freeing Colby and tosses the ring to Chris, “Here.”

Chris cuts the tape off Matt's wrists and helps him sit up. The second his hands are free, Matt brings one up to touch his head.

“Fucking hell, Chris, your fucking goon hit me hard.”

This statement confuses Chris and Sam.

“...Goon?” Sam asks after a while.

“Yeah, his fucking prank actor.” Matt winces.

“Prank?!” Sam questions Chris now, confused but also pissed off.

“Prank act…” Chris's voice trails off mid-sentence. He stares off into space for a moment before his eyes suddenly fill with realization. “Matt, Matt, we called off the prank. Colby and I called it off. It didn't happen; we didn't do it. This isn't us. I don't know what this is.” Chris places a hand on Matt's shoulder. He's dead serious.

“I'm sorry- What?!” Sam exclaims, extremely confused by the whole predicament.

“Me and Colby were going to prank Nick two weeks ago, but Matt made me call it off,” Chris explains to Sam.

“Wait- wait w- w-wait…” Matt stutters, starting to panic. He pulls his knees into his midsection and scrambles into the corner. He inhales deeply and lets it out shakily.

Anxiety breath.

Chris’s brain clicks into action. “Hey- Hey, hey, hey. Matt, look at me.” Chris says softly, attempting to calm him down, “Shhh… Shh, hey, look at me.”

“No… No, no, no, no…” Matt’s breathing quickens. He grabs at the walls, his clothes, his hair, Chris, even the open air. Anything. His eyes lock with Colby, staring in terror at the unconscious man before him. Chris puts one hand on Matt’s shoulder and the other on his cheek, getting down on his level and blocking his view of Sam and Colby. Sam stares at Matt in horror and confusion before Chris gets in the way.

“Hey, shhh, it's okay, hey, look at me. Look at me. You're okay, I'm okay, Sam's okay. Nick and Colby will be okay, I promise. It’s gonna be fine.” Chris tries to put on a brave face, but he has tears in his eyes, and his face is red.

“Nick…” Matt remembers his third brother, quickly turning his head to the right and seeing Nick for the first time since the car. Nick is sitting up against a wall, his hands and feet still tied, and tape is still over his mouth. His knees are pulled into his chest, and his arms are resting neatly atop them. His head is leaning back like Colby’s was. For a moment, Matt thinks maybe he’s just resting. That is until Matt notices the large splotch of blood on the side of Nick’s head, which has soaked his hair and is slowly trickling down his jaw and neck. He is still unconscious. “...Nick?”

Tears have begun to stream down Matt’s cheeks. He stares at his unconscious brother for one moment longer before he can’t take it anymore. He pushes himself as far into the corner as he will go and buries his face in his knees, draping his arms backward over his head and grabbing the hair on the nape of his neck. He feels the liquid near his temple and in his hair. He doesn’t dare check what it is. He already knows.

“Hey, Matt, listen, it’s going to be okay, just calm down, breathe,” Chris instructs him. He places a hand on Matt’s shoulder and squeezes it, hushing Matt’s sobs inside his ball of anxiety. “I need you to breathe; can you do that? Can you hear me breathing? Just do what I do. Deep breaths.”

Matt hears Chris inhale deeply, then exhale, warm air brushing against Matt’s arms. Chris inhales again, and Matt does his best to follow along, taking deep breaths.

“Perfect, Matt, perfect. Keep doing that. Follow my breathing.”

Chris starts to inhale again when Sam mutters from behind him, “Shit… Fuck, shit.”

“What?” Chris turns to look at Sam, keeping one hand on Matt’s shoulder. Matt grips his hair tighter and squeezes his eyes shut, tensing up.

“Fuck, fuck… Colby’s not breathing. Chris, Colby’s not breathing!” Sam’s voice rises in volume as he speaks, starting to panic again.

Chapter Text

“Shit, uh, Matt? Keep doing that, okay? Keep breathing.” Matt feels his heart sink into his stomach when Chris’s hand leaves him. He tries to keep breathing, but can only seem to focus on Sam and Chris’s conversation.

“Why? What? What’s going on? What happened?” Chris asks urgently.

“I- I don’t know! I looked away for one second, and he wasn’t breathing!” Sam’s voice is shaky and panicked as he speaks.

Matt slowly, carefully opens one eye, and peeks out at them during the commotion. He can see Chris's feet standing on one side of Colby and Sam kneeling on the opposite. Sam must have cut his own ankles free when Chris was busy helping Matt. Colby is still lying on his back, unconscious and, sure enough, not breathing. Sam and Chris begin bickering nonsensically. Matt shuts his eyes again.

“Turn him on his side.” His voice is shaky, squeaky, and broken, but it gets his point across.

Chris and Sam go silent.

“...What? Why-”

“You heard him,” Chris interrupts, “Turn him on his side, now.”

 Sam quickly does so. Matt peeks out again. As Colby rolls onto his side, blood starts running out of his mouth and pooling on the floor.

“Oh fuck,” Sam whines, sitting on his knees next to his best friend. His fingers interlock behind his head, and he's sobbing and sniffling as he watches Colby. His face is bright red.

A second later, Colby's body jolts to life, and he starts coughing and spitting more blood onto the floor.

“Oh fuck, Colby,” Sam lets out the breath he had been holding. His voice is still high-pitched and whiny. He drops his arms. Colby finishes his coughing fit and props himself up on an elbow. Breathing .

“Sam?” Colby whispers after catching his breath. He raises his head, scanning the room and briefly taking in the state of his group before Sam crawls around to look him in the eyes. Colby's nose is still bleeding but has slowed to a steady drip. “Are you okay?”

“You're asking me?” Sam asks with tears in his eyes. He helps Colby sit up straight, then promptly throws his arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug and sobbing into his shoulder. Colby hugs him back, getting blood on Sam’s shirt. He’s not entirely sure what's going on, but he gets the idea. “Colby– I thought you were dead– You– You weren’t–” Sam sobs into Colby's shirt. He stops midway through his sentence to cry some more. Colby is jarred but leaves it alone for now, knowing Sam is far too distraught to explain.

Chris kneels in front of Matt, sobbing quietly in the corner. He places his hand back on his brother's shoulder. Matt relaxes slightly and starts trying to breathe again.

“Hey, Matt, hey,” Chris says softly, “Hey, look! Colby's okay, Colby's alright.”

“What's going on?” Colby whispers to Sam, who tries to reply, but his voice catches on the lump in his throat, and he goes silent. Chris sits next to Matt, wrapping an arm around him and ensuring he knows he's there. Matt folds his arms on top of his knees, exposing the top of his head and his puffy red eyes. He stares at the ground in front of him for a moment, then looks up and makes eye contact with Colby. Chris puts a hand on the side of Matt's head and calmly rearranges a few clumps of blood-caked hair, then answers Colby’s question.

“Matt's having a panic attack,” Chris says gently, then pauses, backtracks, and adds, “...Anxiety attack? Mental… breakdown? I don't know.”

Colby turns his body slightly to face Matt and Chris. Sam doesn't let up his hug. Instead, he lays his head sideways across Colby’s chest and holds him close, listening to his heartbeat. Tears are silently streaming down his cheeks.

“Sam and I are pretty okay,” Chris looks to Matt briefly before quietly adding, “...And Nick has yet to wake up.”

Matt shudders, glancing at Nick. Almost as if on cue, Nick's eyelashes flutter, and his body shifts. Matt raises his head in surprise. Chris quickly notices and turns to look at Nick, too. Nick rolls his head around, pulling his arms into himself and groaning. Chris quickly gets up to help him, grabbing the ring off the floor before going to Nick's side. Matt's breathing picks up as Chris moves away.

“Hey, Matt,” Colby mutters, his voice gravelly, “C'mere.”

Matt shakily moves across the floor and lies against Colby, on the opposite side of him as Sam. Colby puts his free arm around Matt and comforts him. Matt clings embarrassingly tight to Colby’s shirt, but he doesn't care. The two watch Chris.

Sam keeps his eyes shut, grounding himself on the sound of Colby's heart beating and air entering and exiting his lungs. A moment before, he thought he might never hear that again.

Chris cuts Nick free and removes the tape from over his mouth. Nick looks around slowly, reading in the room. He immediately recognizes Matt’s state and stands up to walk over. As soon as he does, though, he wavers on his feet, bringing a hand to his head and falling against the wall for support.

“Woah, woah,” Chris stands up and helps support Nick, “Chill out there, dude, I think you have a concussion.”

Chris helps guide Nick to the rest of the group. Nick sits down, holding his head. Matt launches himself into Nick, hugging him tight. He has tears in his eyes, but they're not panic tears. Chris joins the hug.

Matt hadn't even thought about Chris until now. He seemed so fine he didn't have to. What did Chris think when he woke up in a room with both his brothers bleeding and unconscious?

Did he ever think that maybe they wouldn't wake up?

But Matt doesn't dwell on that for long. Now that he's sure everyone is okay, he calms down a bit. He has no idea how long he is sitting there, hugging his brothers.

“Are you guys okay?” Nick finally asks, breaking the embrace.

“Yeah,” Chris says, wiping away his tears, trying to hide the fact that he's crying, “Yeah.”

“Better than I was a second ago, now that you're okay,” Matt sniffles, drying his face with the hem of his t-shirt. He gives Nick a weak smile, then drops it and asks, “ Are you okay?”

“I'll be fine,” Nick looks like he's in pain, but seems to be in passable condition.

“We should get out of here, now ,” Chris states, taking Colby's ring and slicing the duct tape around Matt's ankles. He hands the ring back to Colby, who smirks as he puts it back on. His smile quickly fades, and he raises his hand to stroke Sam's hair.

“Sam? You said, uhm,” Colby searches for words as the triplets watch them, “You said you… thought I was dead before..? What–”

“Colby, you weren't breathing,” Sam finishes his sentence from earlier through choked-back sobs. Colby freezes. He moves his hand away from Sam's head and adjusts his sitting position, causing Sam to move out of the hug.

“...What..?” Colby whispers. Sam looks to Matt, then averts his gaze and covers his face with one hand, trying not to start crying again. Colby blinks rapidly in confusion and looks at Matt.

“You…” Matt starts, trying not to freak him out more than he already is, “Your nose was bleeding. Before, you were sitting up, but when Sam moved you to cut off the tape on your wrists and ankles, he laid you on your back. The uhm,” Matt swallows, looking at Sam, who has turned back to face him upon hearing his name. Matt looks down, but Sam still stares at him with worry in his puffy, red eyes.

“The blood started pooling in your throat. You… Yeah, you… stopped breathing,” Matt's voice gets quiet near the end of his sentence.

“Wait, but…” Colby places a hand on his chest and rubs it, wrapping his mind around the near-death experience he didn't even know he had. He stares blankly at Matt, wide-eyed.

“Matt, you told me to turn him on his side,” Sam says in a slightly questioning tone.

“Yeah, uh,” Matt looks at Sam, then to Colby, “I told Sam to turn you on your side, and the blood drained out, and that's when you woke up,” Matt explains. Colby's gaze shifts gently from that of shock and confusion to that of slight awe. Matt can see the gears turning in his head as, for the first time that any of them, including Sam, can recall, tears well up in Colby's eyes.

“You… You saved my life..?”

Matt slowly nods once and breaks eye contact. Colby silently moves toward Matt and wraps his arms around him, whimpering quietly and thanking him over and over. Sam tears up and joins the embrace, also thanking Matt. Soon, all five of them are wrapped up together on the floor of that bland concrete room. They stay like that until Chris speaks up as the voice of reason.

“Okay, guys, seriously. We need to get out. Now. Come on,” he orders, standing up and trying the door. It's locked, as expected, but the lack of rattling as he shakes it is a telling sign that it’s not locked with a padlock, just the internal lock on the door. Chris throws himself against the door a few times, unable to get it to budge. 

“Dammit! Does anyone else think they could break it down?” He asks, pissed off.

“I probably could, but uh…” Colby gestures to his injured ankle.

“I'll try,” Nick says, standing up. He pauses for a moment once he's on his feet, trying to get his eyes to focus. He and Matt don't look good, Chris notices. They seem drowsy and out of it.

“Are you sure? I don't know if that's the best idea–” Chris asks, moving to Nick in case he needs help.

“It's fine, Chris,” Nick responds, more aggressively than Chris expected from him, and Chris backs off. Nick walks up to the door and tries the knob, bumping his shoulder against it lightly, testing its durability. He then takes a few steps back and runs at it, slamming his side against it. The door doesn't move an inch, and Nick has to lean against it for a moment to stop his head from spinning after the impact.

“Nick, I really don't think you should–”

“Shut the FUCK UP CHRIS,” Nick shouts, still leaning against the door for support. Chris bites his lower lip nervously as Nick steps back to try again. Nick slams against it again, and he hears wood cracking, but it still holds strong. On the third try, it comes partially open as the wood around the lock and hinges starts to splinter and give out. Nick leans against the door for a moment before sliding down it and collapsing to the floor. He tries to stand up again, but Chris is already at his side. 

“Okay, that's enough. Stop.”

“Chris, get the fuck off me or I will throw you at the fucking door.”

“Honestly, I'd prefer that. You're obviously not as okay as you're letting on. You need to stop.”

Nick tries to stand up anyway, stumbling and falling into Chris before he can.

“Nick, stop . I can probably get it open now. Just stop.”

“I feel like I'm gonna throw up–”

“Okay, okay. Just sit down.”

Chris sits Nick down with the others. He gives the door one good ram, and it swings open, hitting the limit of the hinges with a squeak and a crack. He looks both ways down the halls on either side of the doorway. Upon seeing nobody, he quietly goes back into the room.

“Okay, Sam, you help Colby and Nick. I'll get Matt,” he says, kneeling next to Matt to help him stand. Matt is dizzy and wobbly on his feet, but he manages to stay upright with an arm draped over Chris’s shoulder. Sam stands up and offers Colby a hand. Colby takes it and stands up without issue. After all, he still has one good ankle; it's walking that's the problem. Sam goes to help Nick, but he swats his hand away.

“I can walk on my own, Colby can't. Help him.”

Sam turns to Chris, who nods. Sam lets Colby lean on him as Chris and Matt lead the way out of the room, with Sam and Colby not far behind. Nick takes up the rear, meandering along in the back.

They make it to the end of the hall, but just as they are about to turn the corner, they hear someone shout, “HEY! YOU. STOP,” from the opposite end of the hall.

Chris doesn't even bother turning to see who it is. He shouts, “RUN!” and takes off around the corner. Two gunshots ring out, and they all collectively flinch at the sound. There's a push door at the end of this hallway, which Chris runs into and bursts outside into the night. Sam and Colby are just behind him and Matt, but Nick takes a moment before emerging from the building.

The five find themselves in the open parking lot, their rental cars not far away. Chris runs to the van, throwing the front seat passenger side door open and helping Matt into the seat. All of their filming equipment and belongings, including their phones, were stolen, but the doors were left unlocked, and the key is still in the ignition. Lucky.

“Sam, Colby, get in our car. I don't trust either of you to drive,” Chris says as he hurriedly helps Matt fasten his seat belt and shuts the door.

“That's fair,” Colby answers, opening the driver side backseat door for Sam.

“Yeah, okay,” Sam gets into the car and moves into the middle seat. Colby turns and looks back to the building, seeing Nick drowsily jogging to the car.

“Nick, come on!” Colby calls to him. Nick is clutching his side with one arm, his forearm wrapped around his stomach. “Are you okay?” Colby adds.

Nick swallows and hastily nods before going around the other side of the car.

“He said he felt like he was going to puke earlier,” Chris tells Colby as he comes around the driver's side to get behind the wheel.

“Ah,” Colby responds, “Hold on, what're you doing?”

“...Driving?” Chris replies, gesturing to the front seat he's about to sit in.

“I thought you didn't have a license?”

“Do you trust anyone else in this car to drive?”

Colby quickly assesses the state of the group. The only other uninjured, road-worthy person is Sam, who is currently sitting distraught in the backseat with snot and tears still covering his face.

“Fair enough,” Colby says as he gets in the car and sits next to Sam, quickly shutting the door.

Nick gets into the backseat on the other side and shuts the door, leaning his body against it as soon as it's closed and wincing. He wraps his other arm around his stomach.

Chris starts the car and shakily puts his hands on the wheel. He never thought his first time driving would be like this .

“Chris, DRIVE,” Colby orders, snapping Chris out of it as more gunshots ring out. Chris takes the van out of park and speeds out of the parking lot and onto the main road.

“Hey Siri?” Chris asks. Two boops from the car are his reply.

“This car has Siri?” Nick asks, chuckling weakly at his reference to an older video. Chris doesn't laugh. Nobody does, but Nick seems pleased with himself.

“Navigate to the nearest E.R.”

Okay, navigating to Aqua Vista Emergency Room.

Matt turns his head to look at Chris. Chris’s face is red and he quickly wipes away tears, taking a shaky, deep breath.

“You okay?”

“Yes! Yes, I'm totally okay and you're not . You guys are not ,” Chris’s voice is squeaky and he sniffles as he speaks.

“Hey,” Matt says, gently placing a hand on Chris's shoulder, “it's okay. We're gonna be okay.”

Chris doesn't seem convinced, but Matt doesn't have much left in him, and he takes his hand away from Chris, who tenses slightly at the loss of physical contact. Matt leans his head gently against the cold glass of the car window and stares drearily out of it, his eyes unfocusing. The passing streetlights seem to become progressively brighter and blurrier, before the world dims into darkness and eventually fades away.

Chapter Text

“...Why did nobody laugh at my joke..?” Nick speaks up, upset. Chris is confused and slightly taken aback.

“Nick, who are you right now? It's not the time to joke.”

“Nobody laughed at my joke, Chris!” Nick whines.

He must be delirious or something, Chris thinks, That’s a great sign, I’m sure.

“I don't know why you care so much,” Chris says, trying to end the interaction; Sam and Colby seem uncomfortable. Nick's face lights up at this.

“Why do I care so much? Did I say a fucking thing?”

“Nick-”

“Why do I care so much- you just went out on a fucking–”

“Nick, stop,” Chris tries to seem serious, but can't help giggling slightly through his words.

“–3 minute tangent about how much you care.”

“Nick!” Chris looks into the rear-view mirror momentarily to see Nick with a wide smile spread across his face, and Sam sitting confused next to him.

“What was that about..?” Sam asks as Nick holds in laughter. 

“This kid is making references to our old videos,” Chris answers, smiling into the rear-view mirror. He watches as Nick laughs lightly in the backseat, when his expression suddenly drops, being replaced with concern as he stares into space. Then, Chris's smile drops too as he watches Nick shut his mouth and move his tongue around, reopening it to reveal a thin coating of blood on his teeth. 

“Nick, are you okay?” Chris stammers, nervously glancing back and forth between the road and the mirror.

Nick hunches forward in his seat, still clutching his stomach. Sam places his hand on Nick's shoulder and turns to face him, his face painted with concern.

“Nick?” Sam questions.

Nick shakily pulls one hand away from his abdomen, revealing to Sam a splotch of blood on his t-shirt, spreading from a small point of ripped-open fabric. A gunshot wound.

“ Holy fuck,” Sam breathes, quickly adjusting his sitting position as Nick replaces his hand.

“What's going on?” Colby chimes in.

“Nick, are you good?” Chris asks again, now starting to panic again.

“I don't- know, Colby, can you look in my backpack for the first aid kit? Chris, get us to that E.R. as fast as physically possible, ” Sam barks, immediately starting to take off his hoodie, “Nick, don't move, okay? I don't know what the fuck I'm planning on doing but whatever it is, it'll probably hurt, okay? Not that- not that it doesn't already.”

“WILL SOMEONE TELL ME WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?!” Chris shouts, slamming his hand on the steering wheel and looking at a keeled over Nick in the rear-view mirror. Nick shakily removes one hand from his stomach, revealing his other one holding his bleeding wound. Chris goes blank, his eyes filling with terror. He blinks out a few tears. Nick brings his now free hand to wipe his mouth, streaking blood onto the back of his hand, and then replaces it around his stomach.

But Chris doesn't register anything he's seeing. Nothing will compute in his brain. Somewhere in the back of his mind he notes that Matt has yet to react or move in the seat next to him.

“CHRIS, STEP ON IT,” Sam shouts, snapping Chris out of his stasis. He didn’t realize that his foot let up on the gas, and the car is moving slower now. He still can’t process anything that is going on. His gaze shifts from the mirror to the road in front of him, still staring blankly.

Colby fishes the first aid kit out of Sam's backpack and puts it in Sam's lap. He notices that Chris, the person managing the huge, fast-moving hunk of metal full of people, isn’t really all there anymore. Panic sparks in his chest and he reaches through the gap in between the seat and the wall and puts his hand on Chris's shoulder.

“Hey Chris? Chris? Eyes on the road, please!” Colby urges, gently shaking Chris. Chris’s brain latches onto the feeling of Colby's unusually cold and clammy hand touching his arm, and glances down at the GPS screen. It reads “ETA: 5 minutes.”

I can make that 2, he thinks to himself, and slams on the gas.

“Okay, Nick? Move your hand, please,” Sam requests gently, locating gauze in the first aid kit and lifting Nick’s shirt carefully to place it over the injury, trying not to suddenly cry or vomit while he does so. He then grabs his hoodie and threads the sleeves behind the younger, tying it over the bloodied spot. As soon as Sam finishes with the makeshift bandage, he takes Nick’s hand in his, squeezing it to try to provide any ounce of comfort he can. It’s then that he notices Nick’s strained and quickened breathing, the glassiness and confusion in his eyes, and the coldness of his hands despite how sweaty he was. 

“Hey, Nick? Are you listening to me? I need you to not pass out, okay? You wanna talk? What state are you from?” Sam asks, trying to sound as calm as physically possible while also internally panicking. He already knows where the triplets are from, but maybe making conversation will keep Nick awake. He’s also not sure how exactly keeping Nick awake will help the situation at all, but that’s what they do in zombie movies, so it must do something , right?

Nick winces and shuts his eyes. “Massachusetts.” 

“Great, where do you live now?”

Colby nudges Sam. When Sam turns his head, Colby mouths “What are you doing?”

Sam mouths back “I don’t know,” and turns back to look at Nick.

“Uh… L.A.”

“I used to live in L.A., did you know that?” Sam waits for Nick’s disturbingly delayed nod before continuing, “That was in 2021, I was 24. How old were you in 2021?”

Nick doesn’t respond for a few seconds. The car is held in suffocating suspense as they all wait for a response from the triplet. Then, Sam feels the other’s hand go limp in his.

“Nick? How old were you in 2021?” Sam repeats. Still nothing.

“Nick, answer the fucking question,” comes Chris’s voice from the front seat, small and laced with tears, “NICOLAS."

Nick remains unmoving.

“Fucking shit…” Chris mutters under his broken breath, taking a sharp right into the E.R. parking lot and swerving into a spot. The motion causes Nick’s now limp form to slide into Sam, who reaches over the brunet to undo his seat belt as well as his own. The moment the car is in park, Colby swings his door open and steps out awkwardly on his right foot, suddenly feeling overwhelmingly dizzy. Spots fill the edges of his vision and he has to grab the top of the door to keep from stumbling over.

Sam opens Nick’s door and unceremoniously climbs over him to get out. He then, with some effort, picks Nick up and slings him over his shoulder. He walks around to the other side to join Colby, to find him leaning on the car with his head hanging down.

“Yo, Colby, you good?” Sam asks, concerned.

“Yeah- yeah. Sorry, just got dizzy for some reason,” Colby replies, lifting his head and blinking off the lightheadedness, “The fuck are you still doing here? Go! Get Nick help!”

“I need to help you walk!”

“Sam, I’m fine. we have higher priorities.”

“But your ankle–”

“This? Nah, this is just a scratch. I've gotten worse from Gage's cat. I'm fine, go on.”

Sam stares at Colby for a moment, weighing his options. Finally, he nods, and hurries off with Nick to get help.

“Matt, do you need help walking?” Chris asks, unbuckling his seat belt. Matt appears to be leaning his head against the window and taking a nap. Chris opens his door slightly, waiting for a response. When he is met with none, he reaches over and shakes Matt.

“Hey. Sleepyhead,” Chris’s heart sinks into his stomach for what seems like the millionth time when Matt still doesn’t open his eyes.

“No no no no no, don’t do this to me,” Chris whines to himself, launching himself urgently out of the car and slamming the door. He stalks to the other side of the vehicle and opens the passenger side door. Matt practically tumbles halfway out of the car, being caught only by the seat belt.

“Matty? Matty? Hey, Matt?” Chris chokes, quickly putting Matt back into his seat and undoing his seat belt for him. He brushes the elder’s hair out of his eyes to be met with them closed, his brother’s expression slack.

Suddenly, Chris’s brain goes from registering nothing at all to registering everything all at once . He lets his head drop into the crook of Matt’s neck, his feet slipping out from under him. He holds Matt’s shoulders in a tight embrace to keep from sliding out of the car entirely.

And he just sobs.

Chapter Text

Later, if you asked Chris exactly what happened next and in what order, he wouldn’t be able to tell you. Everything from then on is a blur. Medical personnel swarm the car, ordering each other around and shouting things back and forth. Someone is speaking in Chris’s ear, asking him a bunch of questions. But Chris isn’t hearing any of it. All he can think about is Matt Matt Matt .

Someone’s gloved hand lifts his forearm away from his brother and gently guides him out of the car. Chris lets it happen. He’s pulled from his brother’s side, more doctors or nurses or whoever they are coming to surround him, all while Chris watches helplessly. He doesn’t want to; he wants to fight. To argue. To scoop Matt up in his arms and protect him from anything and everything.

But he can’t. He keeps telling his limbs to move, but they won’t cooperate. He can’t get his eyes to focus and everything feels like it’s spinning.

If he can’t move, then he’ll scream.

A guttural, animalistic wail rips from Chris’s throat. With the amount of sheer agony in his voice, you’d have thought the doctors had killed him right then and there. He screams louder and longer than he ever has in his life. For Matt, for Nick, for Sam, and for Colby. And for himself. He screams until he’s expended all the air in his lungs and suddenly he can’t breathe. Suddenly he can’t see or hear or move or breathe.

Someone gently picks up his wrist and he realizes that he’s starting to get really sick of everyone’s hands being cold.

Then, everything turns into a whirlwind of emotions and sounds and lights. Nothing lines up, and he can rarely make sense of what he’s seeing. He feels like an unwelcome spectator in his own head. People are moving around him, taking him somewhere, asking him questions. Sam is there, and then he isn’t; there’s a police officer for a moment, but there’s always doctors. So many doctors.

No, this isn’t right. He can’t find Matt. Nick, where’s Nick? Where are his brothers? He needs to get out, he needs to find–

“Hello?”

And just like that, it all stops. The world falls back into place. He’s back in his own body. Standing in the quiet hospital waiting room, holding a telephone he’s not sure how he found. He glances briefly around the room and spots Sam slouched in a surely uncomfortable chair, asleep. He also takes notice of the fact that his hands are now clean, his wrists neatly bandaged.

“Hello..?” the voice on the other end of the line repeats. The phone gives no indication of the number he somehow dialed, but he could recognize her voice anywhere.

“Hey Mom,” Chris chokes into the phone, “it’s Chris.”

He wasn’t expecting his voice to come out quite so broken. How long has he been crying?

“Chrissy? Sweetheart, what’s wrong? Where are you?”

“Hospital,” is all he can manage as a response. If he says anything more, he’ll break down again, and the headache is already bad enough.

“What? Chris, what happened?” Marylou asks frantically, the urgency in her voice rising.

“Matt and Nick…” Chris’s voice breaks off as he chokes back tears. How the hell is he supposed to explain any of this?

“What? What happened to Matt and Nick?”

Chris doesn’t respond. He sucks in a shaky breath and wipes his eyes with his bandaged wrist. So much for not crying.

“Chris? Hello? What happened to Matt and Nick?!”

“They got hurt, Mom. Can–” Chris swallows thickly, “Can you get to here?”

“Of course, sweetie. You’re in Utah, right? Text me where you are, okay? We’ll be there as soo–”

“I can’t,” Chris interrupts, his voice almost a whisper.

“–soon as… What? Why not?”

“They took our phones.”

“Who did? The hospital?”

Chris shakes his head at first, then notices the stupid mistake and says, “No.”

“Then who?”

Chris bites his lip.

“Christopher, who took your phone?”

“Christopher Sturniolo?” Chris looks up to see a tall, mocha-skinned woman standing in the waiting room doorway holding a clipboard.

“I have to go, I’m at Aqua Vista Emergency Room,” Chris recalls what Siri had told him in the car, “I’ll call you back I promise, I love you.”

Chris hangs up without waiting for a response. He starts wiping off his face in a feeble effort to look somewhat presentable as he approaches the woman.

“Are you Christopher Sturniolo?” She asks as he nears.

“Yeah, that’s me,” Chris breathes.

“I have some news on your brothers, could you follow me please?”

A/N: ive never actually visited someone in the hospital so idk how this works erm…

She leads him just around the corner for a bit of privacy and flips the top few pages over on her clipboard.

“Okay, Mr. Sturniolo. Beginning with Matthew, he had sustained a severe concussion, and was unconscious when we retrieved him from the vehicle,” the woman relays off her page, “However, upon an x-ray examination, we concluded that your brother has luckily not suffered a fracture to his skull, and did not require surgery.”

“So… Like, is he okay?”

“Yes, sir, he will be fine,” she smiles warmly.

Chris lets out the breath he had been holding.

“We will just have to monitor him until he wakes up, which should be very soon, and then you are welcome to visit him as you please,” she continues, “He will have the standard symptoms of a concussion, you know, headaches, drowsiness, nausea, but they’ll go away once he recovers.”

“Right– oh my God,” Chris breathes a sigh of relief, “Thanks.”

“Of course, sir,” the woman smiles again.

“And uhm…” Chris swallows and braces himself, “And Nick?”

“Yes, Nicolas,” the woman’s smile fades and she looks back down to her clipboard, flipping Matt’s page back and skimming the one underneath it. Her tone is much more serious now, “Your brother suffered a gunshot wound to his lower left abdomen and was immediately taken into emergency surgery.”

Chris had his suspicions of what had happened. He knew the news was not going to be good, but hearing her say it out loud still hits him like a freight train.

“He has just gotten out of said surgery and we are currently addressing his concussion. It appears that his is not as severe as Matthew’s, however it does appear that there may have been some additional trauma that may have worsened it. Would you maybe know anything about that?”

“Uh– he uhm, he rammed the door a few times? I guess?” Chris stammers.

“Hm, yes, that may be it,” she mutters, quickly taking a note on the page. She puts the pen down and gently exhales, “Mr. Sturniolo, we will need to monitor Nicolas for some while longer. However, given the nature of your brother’s injuries, we are unsure at this point if and when he will wake up,” the woman finishes grimly.

Chris stares at her blankly. No amount of mental gymnastics could have prepared him for that in the slightest. Nicolas Sturniolo, his best friend, his brother, the boy who had been there with him for literally his entire life, is somewhere in this hospital dying, and it feels like a part of Chris is dying, too. Today, Nick was shot in the stomach; Chris was shot in the heart.

“Mr. Sturniolo, I can’t even imagine how hard this must be for you,” she places a comforting hand on his arm. There it is again with everyone’s hands being cold, “We’re doing everything we can, I promise. I will make sure you are informed as soon as you can see them. That’s all I have to say, you may go now if you want.”

Chris nods stiffly and shuffles back into the waiting room, walking like a ghost clean past the phone and taking the open seat next to a sleeping Sam. He instinctively scans the room and locates the clock, which reads around 6:40 a.m. It’s been almost 5 hours since that godforsaken car ride.

How the hell did any of this happen?

Maybe if he didn’t pitch that stupid prank. Maybe if he never messaged Colby at all. Maybe if they went out to eat somewhere else. Maybe if Nick didn’t point out that parking lot. Maybe, just maybe, things wouldn’t have turned out this way. Maybe maybe maybe…

If only Matt had said yes to the prank. If only they never went on this stupid fucking film trip. If only they had picked somewhere else. If only he had gotten out to check the camera instead of Matt. If only if only if only…

“Samuel Golbach?” The mocha-skinned woman is back, this time with a stout, serious-looking police officer with her. Chris looks up at her and then glances up at the clock. It’s been 10 minutes.

“Is there a Mr. Samuel Golbach here?”

Chris jabs Sam in the side with his elbow to wake him up.

“Hm?” Sam stretches and blinks the sleep out of his eyes, looking over at Chris. Chris nods his head towards the woman and the officer.

“Mr. Golbach?” The woman repeats again.

“Oh,” Sam says under his breath, standing up and walking over to the woman.

“Sorry to disturb you, sir,” she says, much quieter now.

“Oh, no, it’s totally fine.”

“Would you follow me please?”

Chris zones out staring at the clock again until Sam comes back, about half an hour later. To Chris, it feels more like ten seconds.

“Hey,” Sam says as walks over, obviously in a much better mood than when he left.

Chris breaks his staring contest with the wall and looks over at Sam.

“Oh, hey dude, what’s up?” Chris says, sort of distantly.

“Got to see Colby, he’s doing alright! I mean, he doesn’t look it, he’s got this stupid fucking like–” Sam gestures to his nose and chuckles through his words, “–bandage-splint thing on his face, he looks like an idiot.”

“No way,” Chris says, trying his best to smile and look positive for Sam, but his heart starts beating faster and he’s not sure why, “What’re you doing back here then?”

“Oh, I was gonna get us some food, you wanna walk with me?”

“Sure,” Chris answers, standing up. He’ll be glad to get away from that fucking clock. The ticking is starting to drive him crazy.

“What did the officer want?” Chris asks as they walk to the hospital cafeteria.

“Oh, he was just letting me know that that police report was being acted on. He said if they find any of our stuff, which I fucking hope they do, that’s expensive shit, we’ll get it back by the end of the day probably.”

“Oh, good.”

“So what about you? You got any news about Matt and Nick?”

“Mhm.” Chris replies, his voice incredibly quiet. His pace slows, and Sam quickly matches it.

“...So how are they?”

“Well uhm, they said I could probably visit Matt soon, he’s just got a bad concussion.”

“Hey man, that’s good!” Sam says energetically, shaking Chris’s shoulder, trying to hype him up. All Chris can pay attention to is the fact that Sam’s fucking hands are fucking cold.

Sam notices that Chris isn’t having it, and, to Chris’s utter relief, lifts his hand off Chris’s shoulder.

“What else?” He asks cautiously.

“...They don’t know if Nick’s gonna wake up,” Chris murmurs, feeling tears well up in his eyes again. His already snail’s pace slows to a stop, and Sam halts next to him. Chris’s eyes are glued to the floor, but he can feel Sam’s silent gaze boring into the side of his head.

After a moment, Sam wordlessly pulls Chris into a hug. Chris immediately starts bawling into Sam’s shoulder, lifting his hands to return the embrace. Sam gently holds the back of Chris’s head and keeps him comfortingly close for a few minutes until Chris breaks out of the hug, wiping the tears off his face with his bandaged wrists.

“Chris, I’m really sorry,” Sam keeps his goddamned freezing hand on Chris’s arm even after the hug is over, and Chris quickly shrugs it off.

“Do you want to go back to the waiting room?” Sam offers gently.

“No… No, I’ll get food with you.”

“Okay,” Sam says, slowly starting to walk in the direction of the cafeteria again. Chris shadows him silently the whole way there and back. As they re-enter the waiting room, Sam leaves to hang out with Colby, but not before making Chris promise to keep him posted on Nick and Matt’s conditions.

“And try to eat something. Get some sleep, it’ll help,” Sam advised.

Chris brings his food back to his seat and places it under his chair. He sits down and leans his head back, shutting his eyes. Now that he’s thinking about it, he’s absolutely exhausted.

“Christopher Sturniolo?”

Chris jolts awake. He looks up to the clock, which tells him he’s only been asleep for about half an hour. He stands up and walks to the doorway, where a different nurse is standing this time.

“Hello sir, you may visit your brother now. We’re sorry it took longer than expected.”

Immediately, Chris is awake and alert.

“Oh, it’s- it’s no problem, thank you. Can I grab my food?”

“Of course.”

Chris retrieves his stuff from under his chair and follows the new nurse to Matt’s room.

“Right here, sir. I’ll be waiting outside if you need me,” the nurse says, gesturing to the next door as they walk down the hall.

“Gotcha,” Chris replies absentmindedly. He quickly approaches the door and peeks in the small window. Matt is sitting in his bed, looking the other direction. There’s a thick piece of gauze on the side of his head and an I.V. in his arm. Chris buries his emotions and takes a deep breath, opening the door as quietly as possible, an art he’s mastered over all the years of having three siblings. Conveniently, there’s a small table within easy reach of the door, upon which he silently places his now lukewarm Pepsi and food. He then pushes the door the rest of the way open and steps into the room.

“Hey, loverboy.”

Matt finally turns his head, startled that someone snuck in.

“Chris? Oh, fuck y-”

Before Matt can finish, Chris already has him in a tight hug, a mess of sobs and emotion. He holds Matt securely as he cries, and this time there’s nobody to pull him away. Well, except for Matt.

“Alright, crybaby,” Matt says as he gently pushes Chris out of the hug and Chris desperately tries to ignore the fact that Matt, too, has frigid hands. He distracts himself by taking in Matt’s steel-gray eyes. He’s happy just to see them again.

Matt frowns in concern as he stares back at Chris. “Ugh, you look like shit.”

“Yeah? At least I still have my clothes,” Chris retorts, moving away slightly and standing up, “Who’s the most stylish triplet now?”

Matt looks down at his hospital gown and mutters, “Fuck.”

At that moment, for the first time in almost 12 hours, Christopher Sturniolo laughs. Matt looks up at him and smiles.

The moment can’t last long, though, because of course, Matt just has to ask, “So where’s Nick? You guys good?” Chris’s smile drops, but Matt keeps talking, “They said I have a concussion and I might forget stuff, obviously, but like- understatement of the year, I can’t remember jack shit.”

Chris stares at him blankly.

“...Why’re you looking at me like that?”

“...How much… of the car ride do you remember?”

“Which car ride?”

“After we left the parking lot.”

“Nothin’. Why? Is that a bad thing? Was I driving?”

“Uh- No, I was. Ugh, I’m going to have to explain what–” Chris puts his head in his hands and takes a few paces around the room.

“I’m sorry, did you say you were driving?” Matt interrupts.

“Yeah?” Chris looks back to Matt. He looks mortified.

“Well good fucking thing I don’t remember it, if I did, I’d sue you for attempted murder.”

“Okay, calm down, I was only like, 20 over the limit,” Chris says, half-jokingly. Matt’s jaw drops.

“What.”

“Hey, you would've done the same thing if it was me who was unresponsive in the passenger seat, with Nick–” Chris stops midway through his sentence, his energy fading as soon as he brings up the oldest triplet. Matt’s expression switches from terror to concern.

“With Nick..?” Matt questions.

“Have they seriously not told you anything?” Chris asks, trying to put off the question.

“Nothin’. What happened with Nick?”

And of course, Matt won’t let it go. Chris sighs, bringing his hand up to try to smoothly rub away the tears welling up in his eyes. He notices Matt’s eyes tracking his hand briefly as he drops it back to his side.

“Do you remember… gunshots?”

Matt turns his head slightly with intrigue, “Well, the guy in the parking lot had a gun, but I don’t think he ever shot it, did he?”

“Not… in the parking lot.”

Matt opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out.

“I don’t know, Matt, he was walking behind us, he said he was fine to walk behind us,” Chris starts pacing and gesturing wildly with his hands, “he- he said he was fine, and I heard gunshots, and, I don’t know, I thought he was just sick, ‘cause he said he felt sick, and he was holding his stomach, so I just thought he was sick, I–”

“Chris, Chris, stop. I get it. I get what you’re getting at,” Matt rubs his eyes, “Is he okay?”

Chris just swallows and shakes his head slightly, staring dumbfounded at the floor. He turns his hands over in a sort of half-shrug.

“They don’t know if he’s gonna wake up,” No matter how many times Chris says it, it never gets any easier.

Silence fills the room.

But only for a moment.

“Thank fucking God,” Matt states plainly.

Now it’s Chris’s turn to be horrified.

“I thought you were gonna say he’s dead ,” Matt elaborates, “And I was fully prepared to just be like–” Matt puts his hands up like he’s being arrested, “‘Well, take me too then, why don’tcha?’ Y’know? Like, ‘I’m dying today!’ God, Chris, you had me fucking terrified.”

“Matt, I just said they don’t know if he’s gonna wake up.” Chris clarifies.

“...Mhm?” Matt looks at Chris like he’s waiting for him to say more.

“He could be dying right now.”

“Well, is he dead yet?”

“Matt, what're you saying?”

“Well why are we talking about him like he's dead if he isn't?”

Chris goes to respond, but stops to think before any words come out.

“I’m not calling him dead ‘till he is. Simple as that. If he’s alive, he’s alive. That’s all I care about.”

“...Didn’t think about it like that,” Chris admits.

“Of course you didn’t.”

Chris squints at Matt. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean, can’t spell ‘Chris’ without ‘crisis’.”

“...What? Yes you can.”

“What, is your name the letter ‘h’ now?”

“...Huh?”

“C-R-I-S-I-S, that’s most of the letters in your name.”

“Wait… I don't get it.”

“Oh my God, you’re a fucking idiot…” Matt mumbles, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“What??? I don’t get it!”

Both boys laugh it off. Both feeling rejuvenated by the presence of the other, they can finally get back to their regularly scheduled sibling shenanigans.

They banter back and forth for about three hours. For a while, Chris tries helping Matt remember the events of the night before with little success, and eventually just ends up explaining the whole thing to him. Chris offers Matt the food he brought for lunch, taking the Pepsi for himself.

At about 1:30 p.m. (thank god the clock in this room doesn’t tick), there’s a knock on the door, and Sam enters.

“–well no, obviously not, ‘cause she- Sam, hey!” Chris sits up straight in the chair he had pulled up next to Matt’s bed.

“Hey! Glad to see you two are feeling better!” Sam says as he walks into the room, putting a takeout bag onto the small table near the door, “Dinner, whenever you guys are hungry.”

“Without your wallet?” Chris asks.

“ApplePay.”

“Without your phone?”

“That’s actually what I’m here about.”

Chris raises his eyebrows in curiosity.

“First of all, though, you,” Sam says, pointing at Chris, “What happened to keeping me posted?” Sam gestures to Matt.

“Oh!” Chris throws his hand into the air, realizing he never told Sam that Matt was awake, “Sorry.”

“It’s fine, I mean, I found you eventually, didn’t I?” Sam says, smirking, “Second of all, the police have gotten back about our stuff. They found… my phone, Colby’s phone… The other car, obviously… I think one of our filming cameras, and like- a handful of ghost equipment.”

“Any of our stuff?” Matt asks.

Sam clicks his tongue, “No, unfortunately. But , that’s why I’m here. Colby and I just finished updating our socials letting people know- well, not what happened, but just that we’re gonna be gone a while. And texting friends and family and stuff. Anyway, if you guys want to do that, you can use my phone.”

Sam produces his phone from his pocket, unlocks it, and offers it to Chris, who takes it.

“The passcode is [******]. Just keep it for now.”

“Really?” Chris looks down at the phone like it’s a priceless ancient artifact.

“Sure. I trust you. Plus, you can just text Colby if you need me.”

Chris yawns, “Thanks, Sam.”

“...Hey, Chris, one more thing.”

“Hm?”

“Have you eaten anything? Or like- slept at all? In the past, I don’t know, 12 hours?”

“Uh, I took like- a 30 minute nap.”

“Chris, seriously?” Matt chimes in.

“Yeah.”

“No. Motherfucker, give me that phone,” Matt leans forward and snatches the device out of Chris’s hand, “Sam, thanks for the food.”

Sam smiles and nods.

“Matt, c’mon, I wanna–”

“Chris, take a fuckin’ nap,” Matt orders. He looks back up at Sam and suppresses laughter. Sam snorts on his way out the door.

Matt signs into the triplets’ joint Instagram account and writes a basic update, basically letting everyone know that they’ve run into a medical emergency and won’t post until further notice. He obviously doesn’t have any of his own pictures on Sam’s phone, so he picks a random image of all three of them from an earlier post and uses that. He posts the same thing on YouTube with a text announcement. TikTok doesn’t seem appropriate, so he leaves that one alone.

The only phone numbers he knows by heart are his own, his Mom’s, and his Dad’s, but messages to Marylou and Jimmy mysteriously don’t go through.

Next up is Snapchat, which at first he didn’t even consider for a moment, but with the amount of freaked-out replies to the posts already flooding in, he feels like he should give them something. So he signs into his personal Snapchat account and ponders what to do. He can’t post a picture of himself, because that would just make them freak out more. Somewhere along the way, Chris had fallen asleep, ass in the chair and head face down on Matt’s bed. Matt smiles and takes a picture of the mop of messy brown hair on his blankets, simply captioning it “sleepyhead” and posting it to his story. He then signs out of all of the accounts and turns off the phone, tossing it to the end of the bed.

“Christopher?” Many hours later, well into the darkness of night, the nurse pokes her head in the door, “You may visit Nicolas now.”

Chapter Text

The last thing he did was talk to Sam. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, unable to deal with the glaring lights anymore.

He tried to talk to Sam, he really did. Tried to clutch on to any stream of consciousness he had left, tried to decipher what Sam was saying. He was thankful to heaven and back that Sam was there at all.

He didn’t want to die. As obvious as that might seem, he hadn’t realized it until now. Well, of course he had already known that he didn’t want to die; for him, that was a given. But this felt different. When death had felt far away, he had no reason to fear it. But now, standing on what felt like death’s door, he was terrified, and all he knew was that he didn’t want to die.

But he didn't want to talk anymore, so he stopped trying. He let go of Sam's hand, and then he let go altogether, allowing the pain in his head and his side to run its course.

Which apparently was sacrilege, because he was able to faintly register the sound of Chris shouting. And then he was gone.

The next thing he feels is cold. Not freezing, but not exactly comfortable either. His first instinct is to go find a thermostat, which immediately gets thrown out the window when his foggy mind registers that he isn’t really in a place . He’s still shrouded in darkness, but he’s not in pain anymore, and he can’t seem to find any surfaces nearby. He doesn’t feel like he’s sitting or standing on anything. Moreso like he’s floating.

Fuck, am I dead? No, if I was dead, I wouldn’t be able to think, and I’m thinking right now. Or maybe I would be able to think? I don’t know, I’ve never died before… Or… maybe I have..?

He tries to talk into the void, but no sound comes out. In fact, he’s not sure if he even opened his mouth, because he can’t feel it. He tries to lift his arms, but he can’t feel those either. Not that he would even know if he did, he can’t see them anyway.

Then, a man's voice (that isn’t his own, but sounds eerily similar) says distantly from somewhere in the darkness, “Open your eyes, jackass.”

His slow brain can’t decipher the words for a moment. Trying to think or process anything feels like wading through sludge. He turns a blank on every thought that crosses his mind.

Abruptly, there’s a jabbing pain on the left side of his stomach and his head, jolting him out of wherever that was and into a new reality. He can feel his body again ( thank God, that was starting to freak me out ). He can feel the pressure of a mattress underneath his back and thin fabric on top of him, as well as a small mass pressing gently against his right thigh. The darkness is somehow brighter, and it doesn’t seem quite so infinite. A bird chitters somewhere off to his left. 

It’s also pleasantly warm. It’s a soft, gentle warmth that soaks his entire form. Instinctively, he opens his eyes and–

Jesus, fuck.

–immediately closes them again because God, that is bright. The instant he opens his eyes he is hit with a blinding light. He attempts to open them again, but his eyelids are heavy and drooping despite his having just been asleep, and the light is enough to make his eyes water almost immediately, so he shuts them again after a second or two. From what little glimpse he got of the room, however, he realizes that he doesn't recognize it at all. He quickly mentally rifles through all the places he could possibly be. Not L.A. or Boston, he would definitely recognize the room. Being in Boston would explain the weight against his leg as Trevor, his dog, but he is most certainly not there, and is left in mystery for now. He must be in a hotel somewhere…

Utah, right. Fuck.

All at once, the events of the night come flooding back to him, and he quickly deduces that there’s only one place he could be. The hospital.

Slowly but surely, he gets his eyes to adjust to the bright light by forcing them open for incremental amounts of time, and is able to really get a good look at his surroundings. It’s a fairly small room, the bed being the thing that’s taking up most of the space. There’s a large window to his left bathing half the room, including his bed, in warm morning sunshine. He confirms his hospital theory, taking note of the numerous machines crowding the corner of the room to his right that are surely hooked up to him. They’re difficult to ignore, but he tries anyway. The clock on the opposite wall reads 7:20 a.m.

My God, it’s a miracle. I’m never up this early.

But the thing he cares most about is currently sharing the bed with him, the source of the previously mysterious weight pressed against his leg. That unmistakable pile of fluffy brown hair turned chestnut by the sun, fast asleep. Chris is half sitting in a chair with his head nestled in the crook of his elbow on the bed, his other hand wrapped up in Nick’s.

Kid looks so peaceful, Nick thinks, I almost don’t wanna wake him up.

So instead, he shifts his gaze to examine the corkboard on the wall next to the door that he just noticed is there. There’s a few official-looking papers with text that’s too small to read from here, but what catches his eye is a less professional-looking sticky note on the board. Most of the handwriting is too small to read either, but he can definitely make out the word “DIPSHIT,” underlined twice and written bigger than all the other words, “anything,” a bit further down, underlined once, and also “-Sam” at the very bottom. Just as he squints to try to make out more of the note, Chris stirs, drawing his attention.

He watches through tired eyes as Chris shifts around for a moment before lifting his head and looking, unfortunately, directly into the sun. He groans and quickly turns his head away, laying it sideways on his arm and squeezing his eyes shut. He’s facing away like that for a beat longer than Nick would like, so Nick gently squeezes his hand, noticing that his muscles feel extremely stiff. Chris lifts and turns his head and makes eye contact with Nick, squinting a bit against the sunlight and blinking a few times in confusion. He looks utterly exhausted.

“Morning sweetheart,” Nick croaks.

Ugh, that’s some intense morning voice, he thinks.

Chris’s eyes widen a bit and Nick can see the gears turning in his head.

“Wh…” Chris mumbles groggily. Nick gives him a slight smile.

“Oh my God, you’re awake,” Chris whispers, leaning his upper body forward out of his uncomfortable-looking chair and onto the bed to Nick's right, wrapping his arms around Nick’s shoulders.

“Oh my G- You’re okay, you’re okay, they said you might not- they didn’t know if you would–” Chris sputters out between sporadic breaths.

“Hey, hey, shh…” Nick comforts. He doesn’t often get serious, especially when it comes to Chris of all people, but now seems like a better time than any.

“You’re okay,” Chris chokes.

“I’m okay, it’s fine,” Nick reaches his left arm over himself (since Chris is now pretty much laying on his right one) and returns the hug, gently playing with the hair on the nape of Chris’s neck to try to get him to calm down. Nick decides to wait until Chris relaxes a bit to even attempt to deal with this situation.

After a little while, once Chris’s breathing slows to something closer to normal, Nick asks, “How’ve you been?”

“How do you think?” Chris grumbles. He slides out of the bed and, in turn, the hug in favor of kneeling on the floor, “You broke our streak, motherfucker!” he accuses.

“...What.”

“Our 20 year streak of never being apart for more than 24 hours!”

Nick just squints with confusion.

“It’s been so longgg…” Chris whines, stretching out his upper body on the mattress.

“Define ‘so long.’”

“Uh… well, we got here at like… 1 a.m.”

“Hate to break it to you, but that is not 24 hours.”

“Not last night, the night before.”

Nick falls silent.

“Yeah, and then they let me come in here at like 10 p.m. last night I think.”

“1 a.m. to 10 p.m. isn’t 24 hours either, dumbass.”

“Right but–” Chris starts, cutting himself off momentarily, “Yeah, I was here with you, but… I don’t know, you weren’t here with me.”

Nick gives him a look. “Okay, kid. You freak me out.”

“You freak me out. You can’t- you don’t- you don’t even understand how fucking horrified I was when they said you might not wake up,” Chris has started crying again. Evidently, it’s something he has done quite a lot of recently. He bends his arms at the elbow and waves them around in the air above his head, which is still resting on the sheets, “I don’t know– Matt kept–” he sniffles, “Matt kept saying that it’d be fine, and– and that– y’know, you weren’t dead yet, and I tried to think like that but– I don’t know, it didn’t really help. I was still scared. I was scared, Nick,” Chris’s voice gets whiny and quiet with that last sentence, and he cuddles up to Nick again, burrowing his face into Nick’s chest.

Nick buries his nose and mouth into the hair on the top of Chris’s head. He’s never seen Chris quite so distressed, at least not since Matt’s unfortunate incident with a golf club when they were ten, and he’s not exactly sure how to handle it.

For now, letting Chris get it out of his system is probably the best play. I hope.

“Why didn’t you say something?” Chris finally speaks up, his voice small.

“Hm?”

“Nick, you were shot and you said nothing.”

“I don’t know, I wasn’t thinking.”

“How? If that were me, I wouldn’t shut up about it.”

“Newsflash, we are not the same person.”

“Well I’m saying, like- did it not hurt or something?”

“No, absolutely it did, but… I don’t know, adrenaline’s a crazy thing, I guess.”

“Nick, I could’ve done something .” Chris lifts his head off Nick’s chest and looks up at him, his eyes a bright red, “I could have helped.”

“How? No, tell me,” Nick prompts, “How did knowing that I had been shot, on top of everything else, help you help me?”

Chris thinks about it for a moment, then drops his head back down onto Nick's chest.

“I don’t know. I just felt useless,” Chris admits, his crying starting up again.

“No, absolutely not, you were not useless,” Nick reassures him. He’s expecting a response, but is met with nothing but tears. He decides to let him calm down again.

“Oh, I should–” Chris sniffles after a moment, “They’re gonna wanna know that you’re awake,” he says, sliding off the bed again.

“Who?”

“The like– I don’t know, the doctor-nurses people. They’re probably gonna need to do something, I should tell them.”

“Now?”

“I mean, when else?”

“I mean, you’re…” Nick gestures to all of him.

Chris scoffs, “They’ve seen me in worse condition.”

“It gets worse?” Nick asks, half-jokingly.

Chris half-shrugs and stands up to go to the door. He reaches for the handle before pausing to read the sticky-note on the corkboard.

“What’s that say?”

“You can read, can’t you?”

Actually, it can definitely get worse than this. At least right now he’s still being Chris.

“Not from all the way the fuck back here I can’t.”

Chris lets out a slightly exasperated sigh and takes the note off the board.

“Thanks for keeping me posted, dipshit . (jk, I’m not actually mad, I know this is probably really hard for you). Colby got discharged, we’ll be at the hotel. Call if you need anything (food, money, company?) Sleep well, Sam. P.S. Please keep me updated?” Chris recites off the note, folding it and putting it into his pocket once he’s done.

“What’s up his ass?”

“I told him that I would tell him once there was new information about you two and I forgot both times.”

“Oh, yeah, that might be it… Wait, ‘you two’?”

“Yeah, when Matt woke up I forgot, too.”

“Is Matt okay?”

“Oh, yeah, yeah. He has a concussion, too, though. And I think they said his is worse.”

Nick doesn’t respond, staring off into space, trying to imagine Matt in that condition. Unfortunately, it’s pretty easy. This isn’t the first time he’s been hit in the head too hard.

“I’ll have to go to his room to get the phone Sam lent us anyway. I’ll let him know you’re up and make sure he’s fine, too, ‘kay?”

“‘Kay,” Nick replies, and Chris opens the door and leaves.

Nick is left in peaceful silence for a few minutes. The sunlight is still streaming in the tall window, giving the room an ethereal feel. He takes in the serenity until a knock on the door interrupts him. A shorter, tan young man enters the room, presumably the nurse that Chris went and got. He smiles warmly and starts checking on the machines in the corner while talking to Nick. He’s extremely kind, and Nick attempts to return that attitude. The nurse disconnects a few machines and wheels them out of the room, leaving the I.V. A few other people trickle in and out with more questions and a few minor tests, but eventually they stop coming, and Chris finally comes back.

“Welcome back!”

“Hey, thanks. Matt’s fine, he said he’ll be in here as soon as he can. Oh, and, Mom and Dad are here. They wanna come see you, too. Right now they’re at the hotel, but they’ll probably visit later.”

Nick nods a few times.

Chris sits back down in his chair and leans over the bed again, a soft smile spread across his face.

“I see you’re in a much better mood?”

“I guess. I don’t know, man. I’m just happy you guys are okay. I’m just- yeah.”

Nick smiles and reaches up to run his fingers through Chris’s hair. He brushes it back and brings his hand to a rest on Chris’s cheek.

Chris leans his head into Nick’s touch and closes his eyes, placing his hand on the back of Nick’s. He nuzzles into Nick’s palm slightly

“What’s got you all touchy-feely?” Nick asks.

“Your hands are warm,” Chris mutters as a reply, not bothering to open his eyes.

“Oookay kid,” Nick teases.

Chapter Text

YouTube

Sturniolo Triplets uploaded: WE’RE BACK!!! (explanation)

“I'm gonna have to tell like, the whole story, aren't I?” Chris asks, rubbing his eyes. 

“Probably. Go check the camera,” Matt says without looking up from his phone.

“Why not make Nick do it?” Chris complains.

“Because you feel bad for me,” Nick says from the backseat.

Chris sighs with resignation, opens his door, and steps out of the car.

“Holy fuck, why did that work?” Nick questions once Chris is outside, surprised but pleased.

“I was just about to say-” Matt says, chuckling. He grabs a Skittle from the center console and pops it in his mouth.

The video cuts to Chris being back in the car, with the camera angle much better than before.

“Welcome everyone to another Sturniolo Triplets Friday video,” Nick introduces the video to the camera, “the first one in a long ass time.”

“We're back!” Chris announces.

“We are back! And better than ever.”

“Well…” Matt objects.

“Well, maybe not better than ever, but…” Nick pauses, and the video cuts to him talking again. “I think the topic of today's video is pretty obvious, where the hell have we been? What's been- What's been happening? What's been going on with the Sturniolo Triplets?” Nick enunciates his last name excessively, adding his usual touch of drama to the intro. The video cuts again.

“Should we start with the- Sam and Colby thing?” Matt mutters in his brothers’ general directions, almost too quietly for the camera to hear. Chris starts nodding before Matt even finishes asking the question. “Okay, so some of you guys noticed that a few months ago, when we put up the social media announcements about our little hiatus, Sam and Colby also put up basically the same thing on their socials. And y'all were thinking that those were maybe connected somehow,” Matt explains.

“Congrats to all of you detectives out there, you’re right,” Nick announces. “We were with Sam and Colby, which, by the way, Chris, do you want to tell the world how that happened?”

“Right,” Chris starts, looking sort of embarrassed. He goes on to explain how he had been planning a prank on Nick, and that's why they had been in contact with Sam and Colby, and then how they canceled the prank and planned a film trip instead. Then, Matt picks up where Chris left off, and says that they went on the trip and had dinner before finding a parking lot to film a car video in. But before Matt can really get into explaining anything, Nick stops him.

“Matt, hold on. So for reasons that we're gonna explain in a second, that car video and the haunted video we were gonna do that night with Sam and Colby are never gonna come out. But… ” Nick starts, holding up one finger. A smile creeps onto his face. Chris and Matt both look through the windshield at something past the camera. Chris smiles, turning in his seat to look back at Nick. “We, or I , at least, thought it was kinda unfair to you guys if we just never did anything with Sam and Colby, so we have a bit of a surprise.”

Nick leans back in his seat and puts his arms around the head rests of both seats on either side of him. Chris turns back around and looks giddily into the camera. Right on cue, the two backseat doors open in sync, and Sam and Colby jump into the backseat with Nick. Everyone lets out a unanimous “Ayyyyy!!!” followed by a bout of laughter.

“Yeahhhh! We brought them back for this video!” Nick finishes through the chuckling filling the car.

“Yeah, welcome to our garage guys, I hope you have a fantastic time,” Chris jokes.

“Oh yeah, finest garage I've ever been in,” Sam says back. Everyone in the car giggles again.

“I love what you've done with the place,” Colby adds on, pretending to look around and admire the walls and ceiling, which only increases the laughter. When it dies back down, Nick continues talking.

“Yes, everyone welcome Sam and Colby to our channel, it's so great to have you guys here safely. Seriously.”

Sam and Colby smile and nod at the camera. The video cuts once more, and Sam pipes up.

“Alright, are we ready?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Nick confirms.

“Alright, enough yapping. Enough stalling! Let's tell a story,” Chris announces, turning to Matt. “Matt, would you like to do the honors of starting it out for us?”

“I would love to, Chris,” Matt replies monotonously. The mood of the car seems to match the tone of Matt's voice quite fast, as they transition from playful joking to a serious storytime.

Matt starts by telling the camera how he got out of the car to check the camera, and what happened with the two men. He stops just before the moment he got hit, because that's where his memory fails him.

Someone brings up the idea of individually explaining their own experiences of each part. Nick rolls his eyes at that because it means there will probably be hours of footage to edit, but he doesn't object.

First, Chris gives his fairly short window of memory of being dragged out of the car. Then Colby, then Sam, and finally Nick.

I lean forward in my seat to try to see past Colby and get a glimpse of the altercation outside. I can sense Sam doing the same behind me. Matt is still looking our way when the guy on the left pulls out a gun.

“Get back in the car, Mr. Brock.”

What the actual fuck? No, no, this can't be happening. Not to us. Not to Matt.

The guy who grabbed Matt's arm pulls Matt closer and locks his arm around Matt's chest, covering Matt's mouth with his other hand. Matt starts struggling against him to no avail.

A weird mixture of terror and white-hot rage bubbles up in my chest. I want so bad to launch out of this fucking car and punch that fucker in the damn face. I haven't thrown a good punch since hockey, but today seems like the perfect day to break that streak. But there's two things sitting between me and my brother: Colby Brock, and the gun that's currently pointed at Colby Brock.

Maybe I would take a bullet for Matt after all.

Matt screams and my heart skips a beat. It isn't a scream of pain, thank god, but a scream of warning. I only have about half a second to turn before everything explodes into havoc. Sam is shouting too, and then Chris as well, and Sam tumbles out of the car. I try to grab for him, but someone grabs my wrist and yanks it hard.

They pull me out of my seat and I, too, start shouting profanities at them and screaming for them to get off me.

When I'm outside I can see Chris and Sam. Sam is struggling as he's being dragged towards the back side of the car, but they've got a strong hold on him, so it's not super surprising that he can't get out. Chris is also being dragged, but he's not struggling. He's not even moving.

Chris.

Chris isn't…

Chris isn't moving.

My limbs finally decide to actually fucking do something instead of laying around uselessly while my friends and brothers are attacked. I jab this motherfucker in the rib cage with my elbow, which gives me just enough wiggle room to break out of their grip.

I run to the back of the van.

Someone shouts, “Hey!”

As I'm moving, I catch a glimpse of Matt, barely conscious to the point where he can't stand, being pulled away from the cars and towards those buildings on the other side of the parking lot. Instantly, the guy on the left pistol-whips Matt's temple. Matt's head lolls to the side and then hangs down limply.

I faintly remember screaming Matt's name, but after that, my memory gets all muddled and confusing, and eventually everything goes dark.

“Nick, are you good?” Matt asks. 

“Huh?” Nick stops staring off into space and looks up at Matt's eyes in the rear-view mirror.

“Kid is zoned the fuck out right now.” Chris jokes.

“What? No I'm not. Keep talking.”

“I was just saying that Chris should probably do the part where we all woke up.”

“That sounds fine to me.”

“I can probably help out too,” Sam adds. Everyone mumbles in agreement. “Well, I mean, all of us will be able to talk, but I feel like…”

“You and I will probably be the most useful,” Chris finishes.

“Right…” Sam says through gritted teeth.

Chris takes the lead and starts talking first.

I wake up slumped up against a wall with a killer headache and I'm groggy like I just finished up a two century nap. I go to bring my hands up to rub my eyes when it clicks that I'm tied up. That gets rid of the groggines real fucking fast.

I blink away the blurriness from my eyes and the first thing I see is Sam and Colby. Colby is propped up in the corner of the room with blood all over his face and neck, and Sam is leaning against him looking fairly unharmed. They both look asleep, but given the circumstances and what I remember of the parking lot ordeal, I know better than to actually believe they're just asleep.

I pull my legs into me and do my best to sit up, which is when I see Matt. I involuntarily whine at the sight.

He's not sitting up like Sam or Colby, he's laying on the floor on his side. There's a huge fucking splotch of blood on the side of his head that's facing skyward. I'm about to cry just looking at him.

I sit up fully and shuffle on my knees over to Matt. While I move, I use my shoulder to peel up a corner of the tape on my face and eventually un-gag myself. Good thing the gag is a fucking joke and I'm able to get it off pretty easy. 

“Matt? Matt? Matty?” He would probably kill me if he heard me using his nickname in front of people we don't really know very well, but it's not like anyone in this room can hear me right now. I nudge him with my knees. “Matt, please wake up, please.”

Immediately all of the worst case scenarios pop into my head one after the other.

What if he has a concussion? What if he has brain damage? What if he doesn't wake up? What if he's bleeding into his skull and dies before I can help him?

… 

What if he's already dead..?

Before right now there's always been somebody there to stand next to me and tell me that it's fine; that there's no way any of that is true. Somebody who can cross their arms and roll their eyes and look at me with that look that says, “You're crazy, kid.”

One of those somebodies is currently bleeding on the floor in front of me.

The other one is…

I swivel my head around.

Nick.

Remember when I said I was about to cry just looking at Matt? Yeah, no, I'm fucking sobbing now.

Nick's bludgeon is on the opposite side as Matt's, and it's bleeding a little bit more. There's a few trickles of blood going down the side of his jaw and neck. At least he's sitting up. It makes it seem just that little bit less morbid.

I can't deal with this. Not alone. Hell, I can't deal with anything alone. I've never had to.

I make a shitty attempt at wiping my tears with my shoulder and fall backwards against the wall. I pull my knees up to my chest and let my head hang down and rest atop them. I only get to sit there and silently cry for a minute, though, because pretty soon there's shuffling across the room. Judging by the direction, it's either Sam or Colby. I don't even lift my head.

I hear the quiet sound of duct tape peeling off skin and then a soft, “Ah, fuck.” It's Sam. There's a bit more shuffling, and then a quiet, “Shit.” More shuffling. “Shit shit shit… Colby?!”

I lift my head and lean it backwards against the wall. Sam notices the movement.

“Oh, Chris, thank god. Are you okay?”

“Do I look okay?” I say, nodding in Matt's direction, as if he's my visual aid. He kind of is. Half of me is lying on the floor to my left and the other half is against the wall to my right. These two are my whole world. It's not a huge stretch to say that my wellbeing depends on theirs.

“Right, right… But Chris, I need you to listen to me. Physically, are you hurt?”

I desperately want to say yes. That if they're dying, then I might as well be too. But I say no anyway.

“Good, good. Do you know–”

“I'm sorry, Sam, do you know how to check a pulse?”

“Uhm, yeah. Do you want me to–?”

“Oh my god, yes please.”

Sam quickly uses his arms (that must be convenient) to inch-crawl his way across the floor. He then awkwardly places two fingers on Matt's neck.

“Matt's fine,” he says. ‘Fine’ is a bit of an  overstatement. If Matt was ‘fine’ he would be able to tell me himself. ‘Alive’ would've been better. Part of me is sort of put at ease by the fact that Sam said ‘fine,’ though. He inches his way to Nick and does the same thing.

“Nick's okay, too. I'm sure they'll wake up soon.”

I let out the breath I didn't realize I was holding. I don't know if Sam is actually sure about that, but I don't entirely care. Sam moves back to his spot next to Colby and checks him, too. He lets out a sigh and hangs his head low. “Hang in there, Colbs.”

“Is he alright?”

“I'm not sure.” He turns towards me. “What do you think happened?”

I give Colby a quick once-over and start explaining to Sam what I suspect may have occurred. After I finish talking, Sam brings up the idea of the ring. I glance over at Nick (a decision I instantly regret, but it's all in the name of science) and inform Sam that he still has his. We then work together to get the ring off Colby's finger.

“Can we just– sorry Chris, let me just interrupt you really quick– can we just get a moment of appreciation for Colby and his ring?” Nick requests.

“Oh, a hundred percent,” Sam confirms.

“Absolutely,” Matt says.

“No, seriously, Colby, I am like a hundred percent sure that if it weren't for you and your ring, we would not be sitting here in this car today,” Sam adds on.

“And you remembering that I even had it in the first place!” Colby tosses right back.

“Oh come on, you would've woken up and remembered it yourself anyway.”

“Maybe not, if Matt hadn't–”

“OKAY! Okay, no spoilers, guys,” Nick interrupts. “Let Matt talk for this part.”

Matt begins going into detail about what happened after he woke up, with Chris and Sam throwing in some extra details here and there. A few minutes into Matt's part of the story, Chris interrupts.

“Keep talking,” he states simply, then opens his door and exits the car. Despite Chris's order, Matt stops dead in his tracks. Everyone stares past the camera through the windshield as Chris enters his house. A bout of confused laughter ripples throughout the car.

“Okay?” Matt says through his laughter.

“Kid's fucking gone,” Nick says, leaning forward and smiling into the camera as he speaks.

“I guess I'm gonna keep talking?” Matt says, still giggly and confused.

“Yeah, I don't know,” Colby responds. 

And Matt keeps going like nothing happened.

I don't care how many people clip that, I needed to get out of that car immediately.

The last time this happened, it sent Matt into a bad panic attack, and I'm not going to do that to him again. And I don't want anyone to see him like that. Sure, if it happened on camera, Nick would just cut it out, whatever. But today, Sam and Colby are here. Also, I don't know how Sam would've reacted to it, so it's best that I just left.

Especially because it happened during that part of the story.

I hurry to the kitchen and grab a paper towel to soak up the blood. As I'm holding it to my face, I fish my phone out of my pocket and send a quick, one-word text to Nick as explanation. I know he won't freak out, at the very least.

It's times like these that it really sucks being the brother most prone to nosebleeds.

Some of the more vigilant fans might notice Chris bringing his hand up to his nose and it coming away with a dollop of blood on it before he exits the car. Others may see when Nick subtly checks his phone 30 seconds later. Or when he silently shows the screen to Colby and only Colby, who nods with understanding. Really, you would have to be paying extremely close attention. Nobody in the car seems to notice, or they simply don't bring it up.

Chris comes back no more than a minute after Nick puts his phone away.

“Where did you go, kid?” Matt interrogates him before he even fully sits down.

Chris holds up a Red Bull for Matt to see. “Got thirsty.” He drops it into the cupholder. 

“It took you that long to get a Red Bull?”

“I'm indecisive!”

“Why was it so urg–”

“Ladies! Ladies, stop fighting. Matt, continue,” Nick cuts in. Sam stifles laughter.

Matt rolls his eyes but finishes up his part of the story, which is briefly interrupted by applause when he mentions saving Colby's life.

Chris watches Matt intently while he talks. When Matt inevitably stops because he gets to the part where he passed out, Chris says nothing. Instead, he silently stares daggers into the dashboard, looking pissed at himself. He quietly adjusts the heater and holds his hand up to it.

“May I go next?” Colby asks politely.

“Absolutely you can,” Matt replies.

“Perfect. Let's get this out of the way– Nick, I’m really curious about what your point of view for the car ride was like.”

“Me too,” Sam adds. “Actually, how about you and me sorta do ours at the same time? So it goes faster.”

“Fine by me.”

Colby starts with his experience, and Sam supplements with his own whenever needed.

Me and Sam are sitting awkwardly as Chris and Nick go back and forth. Nick keeps saying seemingly random nonsense, and Chris keeps trying to shut him down whilst also holding back laughter. When Nick finally stops, Sam speaks up and asks the question I was thinking, too.

“What was that about..?”

“This kid is making references to our old videos.”

The car goes quiet for a few seconds before Chris speaks again.

“Nick, are you okay?” he stammers.

Sam moves his body to face Nick next to me.

“Nick?” Sam asks.

A moment goes by.

“Holy fuck,” Sam breathes. I know that tone. This is not good.

“What's going on?” I ask. I can't see Nick's torso because Sam is in the way, but I can see his face, and god, that man is in pain.

“I don't- know, Colby, can you look in my backpack for the first aid kit? Chris, get us to that E.R. as fast as physically possible,” Sam barks, starting to take off his hoodie. I quickly look under the seat in front of me to find Sam's backpack. There's nothing super special in it, just some snacks, water, and a handful of other random things, but it does have a first aid kit.

“WILL SOMEONE TELL ME WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?!” Chris shouts, slamming his hand on the steering wheel.

Sam doesn't explain it to him, and I'm not about to either. Whatever's wrong with Nick, that information is not going to help an emotional, unlicensed 20-year-old stay on the road. Chris goes silent, and I can feel the car start to slow down. 

“CHRIS, STEP ON IT,” Sam shouts at him. The car stops slowing down, but it doesn't speed up either.

I finally find the kit at the bottom of the backpack. When I sit up and put it in Sam's lap, I'm hit with an overwhelming feeling of lightheadedness. My vision starts to leave me at a rapid rate. I panic and lean my arm against the back of the seat, trying to focus on what's in front of me. Eventually, it passes, and I notice that Chris seems out of it. I quickly realize that the emotional, unlicensed 20-year-old most definitely knows what's going on, and is most definitely prioritizing that over the road right now. I reach around the seat and grab his arm, shaking him gently to get him to listen.

“Hey Chris? Chris? Eyes on the road, please!”

Chris takes a second, but then hits the gas and the car starts speeding towards the Emergency Room.

The rest of the short car ride is nothing short of chaos. I do end up seeing Nick's wound, and yep, I was right. Not fucking good.

When we get to the E.R. parking lot, I don't hesitate for a second to get out of that car. The second I step out, though, I instantly feel sick.

The same feeling of dizziness hits me again, only this time it's much, much worse. My knees nearly buckle out from under me; I probably would've eaten asphalt if I hadn't been leaning on the top of the car door. The lightheadedness doesn't pass as fast as it did before, and I barely come out of it in time to hear Sam speak.

“Yo, Colby, you good?”

“Yeah- yeah. Sorry, just got dizzy for some reason,” I reply, lifting my head and blinking off the last of the spots in my vision. I don't know how long it took me to recover from that, but it was definitely too long for Sam to still be here with Nick. “The fuck are you still doing here? Go!”

“I need to help you walk!”

“Sam, I’m fine. We have higher priorities.”

“But your ankle–”

“This? Nah, this is just a scratch. I've gotten worse from Gage's cat. I'm fine, go on.”

He stares at me for a moment, then nods, and hurries off with Nick to get help.

I limp after him towards the Emergency Room doors.

“Nick, can I ask you something?” Chris turns in his seat.

“You just did.”

“What is the last thing you remember from the car ride?” Chris asks, ignoring Nick's snarky response.

“You yelling at me.”

“Wait, for real?”

“Mhm!”

“You're kidding.”

“Not kidding!” Nick makes direct eye contact with the camera. “The last thing I heard was Chris angrily screaming my name! Can we just imagine if I had died for a second–”

“Nope,” Matt and Sam say in unison. 

Nick is too stunned to speak, looking bewildered. Everyone else giggles softly. “Okay! That's the end of that topic, I guess.”

“Hm-mh, nope,” Matt says, looking out in a random direction and smiling.

“I don't think I have ever been shut down quite that fast in my life.” Nick continues, taking a long pause to let everyone else laugh.

“Rightfully so, in my opinion. Let's not talk about that,” Sam says, being serious but still keeping the mood playful.

After a moment, Nick opens his mouth to say something else, but is rudely interrupted.

“Matt, what are you looking at?” Chris asks in an accusatory tone, lightly backhanding Matt’s arm. He looks where Matt’s looking and tries to find anything even remotely interesting in that corner of the garage. Matt turns his head to look back at Chris, confused.

“...Nothing?”

“Well, why are you looking out there?”

“Wh-..? What else do you want me to look at?” Matt asks, extremely perplexed.

“I don’t know, just- not out. Look at me, I want to see your beautiful blue eyes,” Chris jokes.

Slightly awkward laughter washes through the car, during which Nick subtly nods at Matt. There’s a short silence.

“...Alright, well, on that note, let’s go to Sam! Take it away, ghost boy,” Nick announces.

“Okay-... Wait, ‘ghost boy’?” Sam questions.

“Hey, that’s ghost boys to you. Get it right,” Colby corrects jokingly.

Me entering the E.R. with Nick must be a terrifying sight. Both him and I are covered in blood, most of it being his, some being Colby’s. Yes, in case you were wondering, it does disturb the hell out of me that I’m soaked in blood, none of which is mine.

Immediately there’s people around me. They bring over a gurney and I lay Nick down on it. They ask me questions, and I do my best to answer what I know, but assure them that he has a brother in the parking lot who would know way more about him than I do. I also inform them that while I myself am fine, there’s more injured people outside. They send a handful of people with me back to the car. As I’m leaving with them, Nick is taken away. I’m no doctor, but I definitely know what “prep an O.R.” means.

Back in the parking lot, I see Colby limping dizzily towards the building. I immediately regret letting him go on his own and try to help him, but he just waves me off.  Thankfully, one of the people with me does it for me and helps him get inside.

When we get to the car, we find Chris halfway out of the passenger side door, his arms wrapped around the shoulders of an unconscious Matt, just crying his heart out. It’s fucking heartbreaking to look at.

One woman walks up to Chris and gently holds his arm.

“Sir? I need you to move away from the car, can you do that? What’s your name?”

I’m almost worried that Chris will lash out at her, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t make any indication he even heard her at all. Since Chris didn’t respond, I do so for him.

“His name’s Christopher Sturniolo, he’s Nick’s brother. And that’s Matthew in the car. I don’t think Chris is hurt.”

“Thank you. Chris, I’m going to move you, okay?”

She gently guides him out of the car and two others retrieve Matt from the van. I rifle off as much information about Matt and what happened to him before they leave. Meanwhile, the woman with Chris goes ahead trying to ask him more questions, none of which Chris responds to. He just lays on his back on the asphalt and stares up at the stars, sniveling softly. She lifts his wrist to clean and bandage his cuts (my uncoordinated ass with that ring. Goddangit).

Someone turns me around and starts to ask me something else, but they don’t get a full word out before they’re interrupted by what I can only describe as the sound of pure anguish. I wince and instinctively bring my hands up to cover my ears, whirling around to see what happened. The woman has her hands up, away from Chris, as he screams his heart out. He stops, quickly inhales, and screams again, pulling his knees into himself and rolling slowly to his side.

God, this poor fucking kid.

Chris stops screaming, hyperventilates a few times, and then his breathing slows and he passes out on the ground.

For the few seconds that Chris remains unmoving, I’m frozen still. I don’t know if I’m scared for him, scared of him, or scared with him. Before I can unfreeze and do something, though, he revives, his eyelashes fluttering before staring distantly off into space. The woman attempts to check on him before inevitably giving up and finishing with his wrists.

I go over and help him sit up.

“Hey Chris? Chris? Let’s go inside, dude. We can go see the others.”

Chris follows me back. He’s up and functional, sure, but I can tell he’s not right in the head. He doesn’t say much more than one-word responses, and even then, they’re used sparingly. It’s incredibly out of character. A few times I try to talk to him, to give him some kind of comfort, to give him a hug, to get through to him somehow, but I’m met with nothing. It’s like talking to a zombie; or a brick wall. All the while, Chris never really stops crying.

I get myself some clean clothes and wash my hands. Chris is fairly clean already.

I speak to a police officer (allegedly with Chris’s help, but all he really does is stand there) and file a police report.

I find us a spot in the waiting room and get started on an absolutely insane amount of paperwork. Chris sits unhelpfully next to me for a minute, then gets up to pace. When I’m finally done, I turn it in to the front desk person, return to my chair, and promptly fall asleep.

I’m awoken an hour later by the pleasant feeling of an elbow jab to the side.

“Hm?”

Chris nods towards the doorway, where a nurse and a police officer are standing. Already, just by the fact that Chris woke me up, I can tell he’s at least a little bit more coherent. “Mr. Golbach?” the nurse calls out into the room.

“Oh.”

I stand up and walk over to the two.

“Sorry to disturb you, sir,” the nurse apologizes quietly.

“Oh, no, it’s totally fine.”

I follow the two of them to a separate area, where the police officer explains to me that the police report is being acted on, and we should have whatever belongings they find soon. Then, the nurse gives me Colby’s condition.

“Cole had a broken nose, which we have reset and given him a splint for. The bleeding from said break was extreme, and he did require a blood transfusion, which we supplied. He also has a partially severed Achilles tendon, which will probably take months to heal, with physical therapy. Overall, though, he is much better, and you may go visit him now, if you like.”

“Oh god, yes please. And, can I ask that you call him Colby instead?”

“Oh, is that what he goes by? Of course, yes.”

She takes a note and leads me to Colby’s room.

When I say Colby is so much better, I mean Colby is so much better. The first thing he does is apologize for waving me off, which I do not allow. It was in our best interest that we prioritized the triplets and I needed someone to be upfront with me about that. After that little chat, he immediately lightens up and we start joking around as if everything is totally normal. After all, his splint is fucking stupid looking, and I make sure he gets an earful of it.

Eventually, both of us get hungry. I return to the waiting room to retrieve Chris, just to try to make him feel better or connect with him in some way. He agrees to go with me, but he seems distant again.

He finally spills and tells me what the nurse said about Nick and Matt. I have literally no idea what to say; instead, I just pull him into a hug and let him get out all the emotion he’s been harboring in that zoned-out stare he’s been stuck in for 3 hours.

It just keeps getting worse and worse for this kid, doesn’t it?

6 hours ago he was sitting in a car with his brothers, all happy and healthy, laughing at a joke or making fun of the others. Right now he’s standing in a hospital hallway, both of his brothers having been taken away from him, hugging me because he has nobody else.

I try to put myself in his shoes for a moment. It’s hard to imagine being as close with someone as he is with Nick and Matt. Sure, Colby is my friend. My best friend. My “brother.” But Nick and Matt are Chris’s triplet brothers. They’re his people. His safe spaces. They’re parts of him.

I love Colby with my entire heart, but our relationship is incomparable to theirs.

And Chris a fucking child, goddamnit. He’s 20 fucking years old. He was a teenager not too many months ago. A highschooler only a year earlier than that. No person as young as him should ever be in this situation.

I can’t even begin to understand what Chris is feeling. I can’t fix this myself, but god fucking damn it, I’m going to help him as much as I possibly can until the people who can fix this come back to him.

“Can we just get a massive fucking shoutout to Sam? The absolute GOAT, our lord and savior,” Chris requests, starting a round of applause. Everyone else mirrors him.

“Okay, okay. I can’t take that much credit,” Sam says.

“Sure you can, dude. Seriously, you were the realest. Actually. Thank you for being there, man.”

“Of course, Chris.”

The round of applause comes to an end. After that, the storytime winds down with a few hospital and recovery stories from each of them, such as Nick’s annoyance toward his bedridden state, Colby constantly forgetting that he can’t drive with an injured Achilles’ heel, and Matt’s struggle with the nausea from post-concussion syndrome. After everyone is done talking, the video cuts once more and Nick starts the outro.

“Alright everyone, that’s all we have for today’s Friday video, we hope you enj–”

“Actually, Nick, hold up, one more thing,” Sam cuts in. “I have information that I have not told you guys yet because I was saving it for now.”

Everyone lets out a unanimous, “OooOoOo…”

“A secret!” Chris exclaims.

“Yes! And the secret is…” Sam starts a drumroll on the back of the seat in front of him. Colby continues it, followed by the triplets. “They caught the guys!”

The drumroll sputters away almost instantly.

“Wait, seriously?” Matt asks.

“Yeah! Yeah, the police found the dudes, they’re in fucking jail where they belong.”

“No way.”

“Holy shit!”

The car erupts with movement and celebratory laughter and chatter. Matt and Chris fist bump, and Sam and Colby dap each other up across Nick. Colby then grabs Nick’s hand and raises it into the air in victory. It’s hard to see unless you squint, but some fans are able to catch Nick’s face going reddish.

When all the celebration finally comes to an end, Nick gets to finish the outro.

“Okay, unless somebody else has another surprise to spring on us, I think that’s the end of the video.”

Matt pulls the camera off the dash and gives Nick a close-up.

“We hope you all enjoyed today’s Friday video, make sure to subscribe and follow us as well as Sam and Colby!”

Matt pans the camera over to Colby, who smiles into the lens and holds both his hands up in a rockstar-like pose. The camera being so close reveals a small but prominent scar that runs not quite horizontally over the bridge of Colby’s nose.

The video cuts one final time.

“AAAAAAA–” Matt screeches into the camera, ending the recording.