Set Me Free

Andrew’s P.O.V.

How could he do that? How could he possibly think that he had no other way out? How...how could I be so stupid? Other than the fact that his father abuses him and that his brother moved out at the age of fifteen, I don’t know anything about Dane. How was I supposed to know that just by ignoring him (for completely stupid and selfish reasons), I’d be sending him over the edge to want to kill himself? He couldn’t die...he just couldn’t. He can’t just leave me like that.

There I go again with the ‘me’. Dane could be dead for all I know and all I’m thinking about is how he’d hurt me. What about all of those times where I’ve hurt him? Countless times where I’ve made him feel like dirt, just because I was afraid to talk to him. Dane might not know this, but he’s slightly intimidating. He’s shy and reserved, but he holds this air about him; an air that not everyone can accommodate without looking like fools. He may not know this, but he holds confidence. Whenever he looks like he believes in something, he carries it with him and he carries it well. And now he’s in the hospital. I’ve been waiting here for over seven hours, refusing to move for anything.

I guess Dane and I had some sort of special bond somehow; I was the only one who knew what his parents were doing to him. I was probably the only person he had to talk to and not be afraid of the consequences and...and I just turned my back and walked away. No one should have to deal with something like that on their own. Now he’s in the E.R. and I don’t even know if he’s still breathing or not. This is all my fault; none of this would’ve ever happened if I had just talked to him. How is someone like me allowed to grace the earth when Dane’s probably already left it? What if he’s dead right now? What am I supposed to do? Leave and mourn his death as if it were just a natural cause? As if I had nothing to do with it? What kind of egotistical bastard would I be? I should just turn myself into the police and tell them that I killed him; that I deserve to be locked up for all eternity...but I can’t think like that...he has to be alive.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I was driving home, Dane’s letter just burning in my bag. I wanted to just rip it out, pull over and read it, but he’d told me to wait until I got home, or maybe the next day, but there was no way in hell I was waiting that long.

When I got home, I saw Dane’s car in his driveway, but thought nothing of it. I told myself that I’d go see him later, after I read the letter. My older brother, Sam, had come home the other day, but the only thing he does is get drunk, get laid and find someway to get himself arrested. Felicity had gone out with mom and dad and they wouldn’t be home until later, so I practically had the whole house to myself for the day.
Pulling out Dane’s letter, I just stood there and stared at his handwriting for a while before looking over to his window. His blinds were shut and for the first time since I moved in right next door to him...his window was closed.

Being unable to wait any longer, I carefully opened the envelope and took out the neatly folded letter...

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

If I’d have had even the slightest clue as what was written on that letter, then I wouldn’t have taken my sweet ass time opening it.

I remember the tears that had been freely running down my face and the pathetic sobs that had racked my entire body. I remember desperately wishing that it was all just a dream; just a terrible nightmare that I’d soon wake up from, but it was the cold, harsh reality. I’d been shocked at first, unable to move a muscle, breathe, but snapped out of it quickly. It didn’t make sense at first...’what the hell was he talking about? He’s not dead! Why would he say something like that?’ I’d thought, pondering the question, arriving at the one answer I didn’t want.

I remember running to the phone and dialing 9-1-1, screaming at the lady on the other line to
just hurry up, not caring in the least bit if this was just some cruel prank. I hadn’t even waited for her to call me back for more information before bolting out of my house and actually knocking down Dane’s door. My brain wasn’t working very well, all I knew was that I needed to find Dane and that I needed to find him quickly before...I couldn’t think about that.

I’d frantically searched most of downstairs before finally remembering that his window was closed.

Somehow my legs were able to take the stairs four at a time (and they were wide stairs), making a beeline straight for Dane’s room, my vision getting blurrier and blurrier. And...

I don’t even want to remember seeing my worst nightmare that day, but I know I’ll never forget it. He was just...hanging there...so pale and lifeless. He looked so fine that day at school, as if it was the best day ever; for him it probably was. The day that all of his pain and suffering would end.

I’d dropped to the ground, sobbing out his name over and over again, regretting every wrong thing I’d ever done in the world, from cussing to everything I’d done to Dane.

I was just sobbing and staring at his seemingly lifeless until I could’ve sworn one of his fingers twitched. I didn’t care if my eyes were just playing tricks on me or not, all I knew was that Dane could’ve still been alive and I was just standing there.

I hadn’t bothered looking for scissors or anything of the sort, I used my hands. The rope had sliced through my hand when I’d pulled it, but it was worth it.

He’d just dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes, not moving. I’d frenetically searched for a pulse, for anything. Luckily I’d found one, it was faint and barely there, but it was a pulse...his heart was still beating.
I was bawling my eyes out while banging my fists on his chest, trying to get him to respond to anything, just willing him to wake up.

When the ambulance came, the first thing they did was check for a pulse, so they could know if a body bag was needed or not. The entire time I was curled up in the corner, finding it nearly impossible to breathe through all the sobs and tears.

I’d watched them take him away while some cop was trying to interrogate me, you can only guess that that didn’t go so well.

They’d ended up calling my parents and telling them what happened so they could come get me from Dane’s room. By the time they got there, both mom and Felicity were in tears while dad was forced to be the strong one and drive us down to the hospital. So here I am.

It’s about two in the morning and I’m curled up in one of the waiting room chairs. Soon, a doctor’s going to come in and tell me if Dane lived or not...

If I still have a reason to live.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Another twenty seven minutes pass and my eyes feel as if they’re about ready to fall off. I’m so tired, but I‘m not sleepy. I feel as if my body’s been drained of any sort of energy that could inhabit it.

Only one doctor has come in so far, but he was there for the family behind me. I’d been so prepared, ready to take whatever he was going to tell me, but was quickly disappointed when he didn’t say my name. Maybe he forgot that I was still waiting.

I mean, it’s been hours, maybe he thought I’d already left.

Walking up to the secretary lady (who looked bored out of her mind), I sucked in a deep breath, trying not to burst out crying again.

“Um...” My throat was hoarse and completely raw; I had to clear it a few times, but that still wasn’t enough. “Do you know when I’ll be able to see Daniel Santon?” I asked, though I highly doubt she knows anything.

She yawned, picking off her nail polish.

“Daniel Santon Jr. is in a private room and no one other than family is allowed to visit unless said person has spoken to either his parents or his doctor.” She answered in complete monotone. It sounded like she’d memorized the whole thing. She was probably told to, in order to keep reporters out; there have been tons of them ever since about six-thirty.

“Well do you know where his doctor might be?” I asked, sounding almost frantic.
She didn’t answer, just swirled her chair around and plugged in her iPod. Bitch.

So there I sat again, another half hour wasted, this time my eyes really did close, that was until I felt someone shaking me awake.

I slowly opened my eyes, almost forgetting where I was, until I saw the man in the white lab coat, smiling kindly at me.

Is that the kind of smile they give you when they tell you your loved one is dead? Or is it the kind where they make it all better? I’ve never really been in a hospital before I had to take Dane here, so I don’t know how this whole thing works. When Felicity was diagnosed with Epilepsy, I was stuck in school, unable to get out until the end of the day, when she was already home.

Deciding that now was definitely not the time to space out, I brought my head back up (I didn’t even realize it was down to begin with) and stared right into the doctor’s eyes.

They were bloodshot with obvious bags under them. This would be a terrible job if someone has a family.

Feeling comfortable enough to sit next to me, the doctor pulled his phone out from his pocket, checked the time and sighed deeply.

“You’ve been waiting here for hours. Don’t you think it’s time for you to go home?” He asked.

Is this his way of telling me that Dane’s dead? That I have no reason to be here anymore? Hot tears burned my eyes again, but I refused to let them fall; I’ve cried too much.

“Is he dead?” I asked, not bothering to look the man in the eyes. If I were to even see the slightest bit of apprehension there, I’d lose it.

He sighed...I lost it.

“No.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Elated. Overjoyed. Ecstatic. Those words are not strong enough to express how I’m feeling right now.

The doctor had mumbled the small word so quietly that I’d thought something was wrong,
but that was quickly dispelled after the realization hit me...Dane is not dead. After nearly bouncing off of every wall in the hospital, I settled on the doctor’s shoulder and bawled my eyes out again, this time out of happiness. I’m not sure he knew what to make of it, but he didn’t move, just calmly rubbed my back, trying to get me to calm down.

He’s a nice guy; okay, I don’t know that, but he told me that Dane wasn’t dead and in my book, he’s the nicest guy I will probably ever meet.

Unfortunately though, he told me that Dane was resting and would probably stay resting for the next few days, so I shouldn’t expect him to wake up. With all the drugs they’ve pumped into his system though, it wouldn’t matter what anyone did, he wouldn’t wake up anyways.

The doctor asked me if I was staying here for the night; I didn’t hesitate in telling him that I would. There would be cops swarming this place all day, asking me questions about what really happened that day and there sure as hell were going to be millions of reporters. I didn’t want to think about that night, all I cared about what the fact that my Dane wasn’t dead.

Dr. Malridge (Dane’s doctor) allowed me into his room and said that he was off for the rest of the night and tomorrow (today, seeing as it’s about three thirty in the morning), but would come to check on Dane if he needed it. I was grateful.

So here I am, standing in front of Dane’s door, room 306. I don’t know what it was, but I just didn’t want to go in there. I didn’t want to see his pale, seemingly lifeless body. That would bring back too many unwanted memories from just the other day. I didn’t want to have to think about what would’ve happened if I’d just showed up a few minutes later; or if I’d actually waited until the next day to read Dane’s letter. The thought alone was enough to bring even more tears to my eyes. What the hell is wrong with me? I’m a seventeen year old guy!

I’ve been so anxious and ready to see him before, but now that the time has come, I just don’t feel like going in there. What if he’s awake and doesn’t want to see me? No, the doctor told me he’d be asleep. So what am I waiting for? The next apocalypse?

Sucking in whatever courage I had left, I slowly opened the hospital door and walked in. My eyes were down, avoiding the frail boy lying in the hospital bed, unable to move.

Letting out a shaky breath, I slowly raised my head, daring myself to look at him. How could I let this happen? And overwhelming sense of guilt washed through me as I continued to think about how Dane didn’t deserve any of this.

After a lot of probing, I had managed to get the doctor to tell me what he seemed so hesitant about when he’d told me that no, Dane was not dead. Dane now suffers from hypoxia and the doctor had no other choice but the put him in a state of comatose for the time being. Hypoxia is a state where a person’s body, or part of a person’s body doesn’t get enough oxygen; I understand why he has it, but why put the poor guy in a freaking coma? The doctor said it was to stop any injuries from occurring due to the illness, but frankly it still didn’t make much sense. He wasn’t supposed to tell me, but felt that since I was the only here for him, I deserved that much.

Dane was pale, which was to be expected, but not as deathly pale as he was when I...never mind. I don’t want to go through those thoughts again.

I was surprised that I didn’t see a lot of tubes going in and out of his body. There were four to be exact. One was connected to an I.V., the other to the morphine that was pumping things into his body and the other...I didn’t know what it did, but it was keeping Dane alive and that’s all I cared about. The last one was his oxygen mask. That, to me, was the most important one of all. It was giving him life.

The doctor had told me that if I talked to him, there was a slight chance that he might hear me though in a dream-like state. But there was also a somewhat higher chance that he wouldn’t. I didn’t care.

Pulling up a chair to his side, I automatically (though somewhat hesitantly) pulled one of Dane’s hands into my own. I’ve never held his hand; it was so tiny compared to mine and almost feminine. He was slightly warm, but not enough. I just wanted him to wake up, just by that one touch, and not get mad that I was here with him. I wanted him to repeat those three words that he’d written on the paper, but I was just getting ahead of myself, right? Most likely.

I opened my mouth to speak, but looking up at those closed eyes, that fair skin, the contrast between his dark hair and his pasty complexion...I broke down yet again.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The soft beeping of a machine was what woke me up; I didn’t even know I’d fallen asleep. At first I thought I was back in my room and that this was all just some terribly nightmare, but the stiffness of my back and the loud chatter in the background shattered all the hope I had.

I was still holding onto Dane’s hand and frankly, I didn’t want to let go.

He hadn’t moved, though I hadn’t expected him to, and he still looked the same, but I found
him to be slightly more beautiful than the night (morning) before. Then again, he was always beautiful in my eyes.

Echo was just a mistake; my way out because I was scared. I’d accepted my sexuality a long time ago and since then, I’ve had boyfriends; long and short term ones.
I didn’t think moving here would be any different; I didn’t care if everyone was homophobic or not, they could all just suck it.

I’ve never been the type of person to care what others said about me and I wasn’t about to start just because we were moving to California. Well...that’s what I thought at the time.

When mom and dad said that they wanted to meet the new neighbors, I wouldn’t have it. Their house was obnoxiously bigger than everyone else’s and if they didn’t have 17 kids, then I’d hate them...and I did.

I met the father and it was obvious that the only thing he was interested in was showing off, then the mother who seemed so self-absorbed, just loving herself and then they go off and say they have a son! What the hell was I supposed to think about him? If his parents are like this, then what will the spawn be like?
I was almost afraid to find out, but then I saw him. Just the air about him, how he just seemed awkward and uncomfortable around his parents told me that he wasn’t like them and he was freaking gorgeous and I don’t even think he realized it. He was honestly the most stunning creature I’ve ever seen...which would be why I acted the way I did.

And then I find out that his window’s right next to mine. Okay, I’ve caught him looking a few times, but that was only a few. Once I just sat there and stared at the boy as he slept. How much more of a creeper can I be?
I made the mistake of letting my guard down and becoming his friend. The worst part? He was even more amazing. That was when I knew I couldn’t let this continue. He was way too innocent to get caught up with someone like me, plus he had a girlfriend (whom he hated (who didn’t?)). I didn’t even know if he was gay or not and that was when I met Echo.

She seemed nice, so I knew I couldn’t just lead her on, so...I told her everything. After much persuading she agreed to pretend to go out with me, she wanted to be an actress anyway, so why not? Biggest mistake of my life. I just ended up hurting him more and now look what happened!

Shaking all of the thoughts from my mind, I stood up and stretched myself out. All that could be heard throughout the room were the cracks from my back.

“Wow, old man.” I heard someone snicker from the doorway. Turning around, I saw this really young woman standing at the doorway. Dyed black hair with dark brown highlights, tied into a loose bun on her head, some strands falling out, diamond nose stud...this chick was gorgeous. If I wasn’t so in love with Dane, I’d definitely make a move.

Maybe I wasn’t quite ‘in love’ with Dane yet, but I sure had strong feelings for him that go way beyond ‘like’. Which was most of the reason I did what I had done, I didn’t want someone as sweet and innocent as him to get involved with someone like me; I’d just bring him down. I have no real goals in life and nothing seems to interest me for a future; I couldn’t allow him to live that life with me; he had too much going for him.

“Um...may I help you?” I asked, my voice was still sore, but it was way better than the night before.

“Hello, I’m Daniel’s nurse. Since the doctor’s off for the day, I’ll be watching over him. You can just call me Ash.” She smiled politely.

“I’m Andrew; Doctor Malridge said that I could be in here.” I didn’t want this lady to be like the bitch receptionist. There was no way I was leaving Dane’s side and no one could make me.

“Don’t worry; I’m not like that bitch receptionist up there.” So she knows her too. “She wanted me to change, saying that I was too bright.”

That...was not a lie. Ash (so she said) managed to match a bright green scrub top with bright pink pants (that looked more like skinny jeans) and yellow zebra striped converse. Not to mention the obnoxiously bright orange headband. I liked it; she made this bland place a little happier.

“You’ll be seeing a lot of me while he’s here, so you better get your eyes to adjust to all of this. I don’t change for anyone.” She stood tall before turning on her heels and walking out of the door. She left a bright backdrop stuck in my eyes for three whole minutes.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It’s been three days and Dane has not moved once. My parents aren’t forcing me to go to school, but they are bringing me my homework. They also bring me a change of clothes and my mother brings me three meals a day, complaining the entire time about how terrible hospital food is.

I’ve been talking to Dane more and more and Ash is cool. Even after this, she’ll be giving Dane house visits and she’s only 21. I can’t wait for him to wake up.

The police had collected all of the notes in his locker and gave them to their rightful owners, but not after reading them first.

His father was supposed to be facing about four or five years for all he’s done to Dane, but since he’s rich, he only got off with a year and a half and community service...I hate him.

Dane’s mother has been trying to milk all of the attention the press has been giving him and faked ‘caring’ about him. She claimed that she had no idea that any of this has been going on, but unfortunately for her, Dane added her to the letter as well. She only gets community service, since she didn’t actually ever touch him. I testified against them.

Of course I’ve told him all of this, including how I feel about him and why I went out with Echo in the first place. Actually, I’ve told him everything...except for what I told Felicity that day when she kidnapped him. That was something that I would never tell him, well, not yet anyway.

There was chance that he had no idea what I was telling him, but I didn’t care; I wanted to make myself believe that he heard and understood me.

“Do you understand number twelve?” I asked, looking up at him. I was currently working on calculus...the one class that should go burn in the deepest pits of hell. We were on logarithmic function...what the hell is a logarithm anyway? “Um...ln e^3. How the hell am I supposed to do that? Where are the numbers anyway? I thought this was math.” I rambled on.

“You know he can’t hear you, right?”

Turning around, I saw...some guy I didn’t know.

His dark brown, almost black hair ran straight to his shoulders, with some blonde streaks here and there. His eyes were bloodshot and he had tears streaks running down his face. He looked a little bit like Dane. Is this supposed to be Jorge? Thinking that, I quickly ripped my hand out of Dane’s and pretended as if it was never there.

“I don’t care if you hold his hand, you know. You must be the infamous Andrew...he’s told me a lot about you.” He mumbled, more tears running down his face.

I didn’t know what to say, I didn’t know how to comfort him, I didn’t even know if I should still
be here.

Jorge just sat there the entire day, staring at his brother’s peaceful expression, occasionally bursting into tears. He told me about Dane, his childhood, what they would do, what Dane would tell him when he would call. I wanted to tell him about Dane now, but didn’t have much to say.

Soon, another police officer came into the room. That was funny; I thought they were done with all of the interrogation...

“Mr. Santon, may I speak to you outside for a moment?” He asked, his gruff voice making it sound more like a demand.

“I’m not leaving my brother’s side, so we’ll speak here.” Jorge replied, not being bothered to look up at the man.

The cop’s eyes moved down to me and glared slightly. What did I do?

“And he’s not going anywhere either, so just get this over with.”

The cop cleared his throat, obviously not used to taking orders from someone who was not his boss.

“Well then, seeing as Mr. Santon Jr. is under the age of eighteen, he is still a minor, meaning that he cannot live on his own...”
Jorge cut him off.

“Yeah, I got that, which is why he’s coming to live with me in San Francisco. I’ve already worked everything out.”

Wait, what? They’re moving him? When was someone planning on telling me this? As soon as Dane gets out of the hospital, they’re planning on moving him five hours away from me? Why?

Well, I guess this is all I deserve for putting him through everything.

Dane’s nurse, Ash walked into the room, checked his I.V. bag and just stood there. The cop
glared at her and I was surprised to see her glare back and actually give him the finger.

If this wasn’t such a depressing moment right now, I’d laugh.

“Actually Mr. Santon, you are not able to do that.” He stated, probably taking joy in Jorge’s surprised expression. “This boy attempted an act of suicide, in this country, that is frowned upon. When Daniel Santon Jr. here gets released from this hospital, he will automatically be send to a rehabilitation center.”

“Rehab?” Jorge howled. “You’re not sending my brother to rehab! My father was the cause of this, so if he goes to live with me, we won’t have to worry about this ever happening again. You do not have the authority to do that!”

“Unfortunately, you are correct, but the government and a court official does have the authority to do that. And if I’m correct, it is stated that in the case of an attempted suicide, the patient must get professional help.”

“Actually...” Ash butted in with a smart-ass tone...I officially like her. “When said patient turns 18, they can decide to skip all of this if they want. And also, if I’m not mistaken, doesn’t Dane turn 18 in two weeks?” She smirked.

He’s older than me? Rehab? Maybe I really should’ve stepped outside. This is a lot to take in, in one sitting.

When I snapped back into the conversation, Ash and the cop were just going at it.

“Okay, so even if he turns 18 in two weeks, he’ll be out of this comatose state in what, three days? He’s going to the rehabilitation center and you should just butt out of other people’s business, miss, and go back to doing what you’re paid to do.” He snarled.

“Don’t you dare tell me what to do!” Ask screeched, slamming the clipboard down and getting right up in his face. It was quite comical, he’s about 6’2” and she’s like 5’3”. “And if I’m not mistaken, he has to stay here for an extra week to do additional screening and testing and we have to make sure that he’s fit to go anywhere. When he wakes up, he’ll make the decision for himself and we will keep him here as long as it takes if he does not want to go.” She pointed her rainbow colored nail at him. Glaring, Ash turned her back and walked right out of the room, yelling profanities along the way.

So as soon as Dane’s out of the hospital, he’s either going to San Francisco or a rehab? Both overwhelmingly far from me? Is this all just a huge sign that I’m too blind to read? Is this supposed to mean that I’m supposed to stay away from him? That I’m never supposed to tell him how I feel about him at all? Why can’t this all just get easier?

And here I go with the selfishness again. Maybe this is easier. Look at everything I’ve put the poor boy through, maybe this is just his break. His first break in life. A chance where he can just breathe and finally be able to live. This is a break; one that Dane desperately needs...a break from me.

Maybe I shouldn’t be here when he wakes up, maybe if I just left, he’d be better off. He’ll still think that I don’t care about him and be able to move on with his life. I highly doubt he hears me whenever I talk to him, so he will never know. He will never know I was here, he won’t know what I’ve said and he won’t care anymore.

Yeah, that’s it...I’ll just go.