Maybe

Chapter 8 ~ Maybe Shane's POV~ You could not believe how relieved I was to find a pulse on Joey. Tears of joy began to stream down my face, I stroked his hair lovingly. "Oh my god, Joey, hang on... everything's gonna be alright." I was afraid to move him, but I did wrap a towel around his stomach to staunch the bleeding. I took out my phone and with shaky hands, called the ambulance. It only took them a few minutes to get to the house, but to me it felt like forever. I couldn't stop staring at him. I felt so bad... Of course he was in love with me! I was stupid to ignore him the way I did for so long. And look what it had lead to... Maybe if I could just be serious for a change, this wouldn't have happened.When the paramedics arrived, I was questioned. Most of it was just the basics: what his name was, who I was, stuff like that. "Do you know how long he's been like this?" a nurse asked me."I-I dunno," I was so flustered. "Not too long, I think. Maybe only about fifteen minutes? B-but I really don't know.""Let's hope it wasn't much more than that," she jotted something down on a notepad. "He's most likely lost a lot of blood. We're going to have to sew up his incisions." She looked up at me. "These wounds were self-inflicted, yes?"I nodded, unable to speak. It was a dreadful thought still that Joey had wanted to die so much... As the paramedics carried him out on a stretcher, I refused to leave his side. I already felt guilty enough; the last thing I was going to do was let Joey wake up alone in the hospital. After a bit of persuasion, I rode in the ambulance with him. I still held the note he'd left and read it again as we starting driving. "I love you more than words could ever describe." I despicable. I was stupid, not realizing he felt this way when he clearly did. I stroked his hand gently, leaning in very close to him and whispering, "I'm sorry." But it was too late for that. I thought about when he'd kissed me a few weeks ago. I was disgusted at myself for the way I'd acted. It was no wonder Joey wanted to commit suicide. I didn't want to think about it, but if he died, I would never be able to forgive myself. When we reached the hospital, all hell broke loose. People were running back and forth, pushing me aside and getting to Joey. I stepped back and let them lift his stretcher, but still followed as they brought him to the emergency room. The doctors and nurses yelled things to each other that I barely understood. I just kind of stood there, watching as they prepared to work on him. As they inserted his IV, I had to look away. I'd always been a little squeamish with all this medical stuff.I stood near the corner of the room, and nobody paid me too much attention. I just stood there in a trance, wishing that everything would turn out alright. The doctors worked fast, starting to sew up the gaping wound on Joey's side. I felt myself go pale as a nurse yelled, "He's in cardiac arrest!" I knew enough to realize that was something bad. She began to perform CPR, pushing on his chest to try and get his heart back online. It was at this point that I couldn't just stand by and watch anymore. I tried to push my way forward, but the nurses shoved me back. "Please, sir, remain calm," one of the ladies stood between me and Joey. I froze as Joey's heart monitor flatlined. "No..." I whispered, feeling a lump rise in my throat and tears well up in my eyes. "No!" I reached forward, trying to grab his hand, begging for his heart to start up again. The doors swung open and two bulky security guards charged in. One grabbed me, forcing my arms behind my back and roughly pulling me away. I struggled in his grasp, kicking him in the shin and trying to wriggle out of his arms. The other guard grabbed one of my arms and the two of them dragged me out, kicking and screaming. The last thing I saw were the doctors cutting Joey's shirt off and prepping the defibrillators. At that point, I gave up. I let myself go limp, sobbing uncontrollably and coming to the definite decision that Joey was dead. The security guards dropped me off in a small waiting area where I curled up meekly in a chair. With shaky hands, I retrieved the note Joey had left from my pocket. I felt the words he had written with my fingers and cried some more. I was the reason he'd stabbed himself. And all because I treated him like a joke. Being in the waiting room gave me a lot of time to think. I recalled when he'd kissed me, and thought about it on a deeper level. The feeling of his hands on my cheeks, or his lips on mine; it was something I had never felt before. A static kind of shock had leapt between us, sparking a strange connection. And his eyes afterwards had the purest, more sincere look possible. Remembering the way I'd shot him down made me feel even shittier. I had been surprised, but not upset, which he clearly thought I was. Maybe, if I had given him a chance, things could've worked out differently. Maybe we could've been... together? I was still overwhelmed with questions. Was I gay? It was no question that Joey Graceffa was the sexiest f*** I'd ever met, but before I'd always played it off as bromance. Maybe, if I had another chance, I could turn things around. But what was I saying? Another chance? Joey was most likely dead already. The thought made me feel sick and even more tears rolled down my face. I wished that I could even just see him one last time, and I could stroke his hand gently as he lay still and lean down, kissing him so my eyelashes tickled his face. And I would whisper something like, "I'll love you forever, Joey..." And just as I prepared to leave, I would feel his chest rise beneath my fingers and his eyelids would flutter, and he would shakily whisper my name... But these things only every happened in the movies. Reality was harsh and insensitive. I was sitting in a cold hard chair in a plain white room, and there wasn't going to be a perfect fairy tale ending for Joey and me. At some point, I must've dozed off. I was exhausted, both mentally and physically. The next thing I knew, a young woman in scrubs was gently shaking me. "Mr Yaw?" she inquired. I rubbed my eyes and shifted. "Yeah?" She smiled. "The doctors just wanted me to inform you that Joey's out of surgery now and he's doing great in the recovery ward." My eyes widened. "Recovery? He's not dead?" She looked surprised. "No, not at all!"I leapt up and wrapped my arms around her, engulfing her in the biggest hug possible. I must've whispered thank you at least a billion times. Maybe this was the second chance I'd wished for... ~~~Bwaahh!!! I'm in love with this chapter! I had to rewrite parts of it a few times, and I couldn't figure out the word "staunch," but I'm actually really happy with the way it turned out! The only problem is, I don't really know where this story is going now. Sooo, it's time for a vote! Should I:1) start to wrap up this story and work on something else? (Believe me, I've got so many Shoey ideas ;D) or 2) Continue with this story and find some new ideas to fit with this story line! Anyway, thanks for reading. The support I got for the last chapter was PHENOMENAL. I mean, seriously, you guys, I was trying to get to 200 reads and now I'm at nearly 400? I love you all so very much! :3 Daily derp: I typed yam instead of Yaw. *facepalm*