Never Crossed My Mind (boyxboy)

Chapter Thirteen

"C'mon, c'mon, c'mon!"

I groaned, turning over so that I was facing the black-haired ball of energy. "What the hell do you want?"

"Get up, Sam!" he screamed in my ear.

"Get away from me!" I yelled, irritated and tired.

He crawled up on my bed and started jumping up and down, pulling the blankets up with him. "Get up, get up, get up!"

I curled into a ball and shoved my head under my pillow, but he only pulled that up, too. "Let go, asshole!" I hissed, burying my face in the mattress.

The door opened and a nurse popped her blonde head into the room. "Everything alright in here?"

Mason smiled brightly at her from where he was standing on my bed. "Yes. I'm just trying to get Sam up and out of bed so that he can come and get ice cream with us."

She stared, amused, at the ball that was me on the bed, before shutting the door and walking away.

"I told you," I mumbled. "I can't go."

"I talked with Richard," he chirped. "He said it was fine."

I was suddenly much more awake than I had been a moment ago. "What the hell?" I stood from the bed, swaying a bit as lights danced in front of my vision and blood rushed to my head. I stormed into the hallway, crossing my uncovered arms self consciously before making my way to Richard's office. "Open up, you asshole!" I seethed, ignoring the more-than-confused Mason that was trailing behind me.

He opened the door and stared down at me unflinchingly. "Yes, Sam?"

"Why is it that I've been begging to get out of this place for even just a few minutes for years now, and I've always been denied, but when some depressed kid suddenly gets admitted and asks if I can go get some goddamn ice cream, I can?"

Oddly, I felt a bit guilty for calling Mason "some depressed kid", but I tried to ignore his hurt look and focus on Richard.

Richard leaned casually against the door frame. "Sam, do you remember what happened the last time we let you go out, when you were thirteen?"

I faltered. "Yes, I--"

"You tried to get away. One of the nurses had to get eight stitches on her hand and another had bruises for a week. We were forced to sedate you, Sam. You attacked them when they tried to stop you. Did you really think you would just be let out after that?"

"But, you could've--" I protested.

"No, Sam. You could've not attacked them and attempted to get away, and you would never have been denied your right to leave occasionally. You ruined it for yourself, Sam. You lost any trust you had gained in those three years by trying, at that extent, to escape. Consider yourself lucky you are even being allowed to leave today." He shut his door.

I turned to Mason, who had been present for the entire thing. "I was thirteen," I explained. "It wasn't fair."

He nodded his head. "Okay." He looked down the hall where a group of patients were gathering, dressed for the gloomy winter weather. He smiled. "Get dressed. They're leaving soon; with or without us."

I hurried to pull on a pair of jeans and a plain white tee shirt, along with a brown jacket that the nurses provided me with for the day. I brushed my teeth under the supervision of a security guard, and managed to get my unruly brown hair into something resembling order.

"You look nice," Mason noted, as I stepped out into the foyer where the two nurses going were taking attendance.

I blushed. "So do you," I mumbled. And he did. He was sporting a pair of faded jeans and a blue tee shirt, along with a pair of black Chuck Taylors.