Innocent

Twelve/Finale

I wake the next morning in a hospital bed. My shoulder and jaw throbbing but it means I'm alive. I look around the brightly lit, white room and see Lance passed out in a chair next to the bed, his feet propped up on the mattress and his head tilted back. He's snoring. I wonder if that's what woke me up.

"Lance," I say softly and nudge his foot with mine, "Lance!"

His head shoots up, "Huh? Oh, you're awake!" He sits up and scoots his seat closer till he can rest his elbows on the bed.

"How are you feeling?" I ask, my voice groggy and scratchy. Probably from the morphine.

"I feel fine. More than fine. You?"

"I feel super." I say with a sleepy grin.

"Does it hurt?" Lance asks softly.

"Not at all." I lie but I know he doesn't buy it.

There's a knock at the door, I sit up and turn slowly, "Come in!"

A woman in a white coat and scrubs walks in with a clipboard and a smile, "Hey Keith, how are you feeling? I'm Dr. Laura, I'm the one taking care of you. You have a couple visitors waiting outside, do you mind if I let them in?"

My eyebrow raises and I look at Lance, "Yeah," he starts, "that's my family."

Veronica is the first one in the room. Aside from a bruise on her cheek she looks fine. She stands next to my bed with a frown.

"Keith, I'm sorry. About your mom and the video and everything. It was all so stupid and I uh... I'm sorry."

I nod at her and try for a smile. She's no saint but I accept her apology. She's been through enough and it's all because of my mother.

Lance's mother and father come in and give me sad smiles, "Hola, Keith," his mother says in a thick accent and stands next to her son, "We have talked to Lance and wanted you to know you can stay with us for as long as you need to." Lance's father nods along.

I don't know how they could be so nice to me. After everything my mom has done to them. Maybe they feel bad for what their daughter did to me? I'm just glad they don't seem to hate me. I wouldn't want to lose Lance over something like that.

A week later they let me leave the hospital. I'm expected to get about eighty percent feeling back in my right arm. That's something I guess. I still haven't talked to my mom. They've assured me she's in good hands and I'll see her at the trial in a month but... it's terrifying. The one person in the world I trusted is suddenly the only person I can't trust. The next time I'll see her I'll be testifying against her. There's no way I'd vouch for her. I'll go to that stand, tell them she was a really wonderful mother until she shot me and hope she gets the help she needs. Lance drives me to my house so I can get some clothes. I haven't been back here since the night it all happened.

The door creaks open and I stand there for a moment, taking in the familiar scent of home. In the kitchen, there's still a note on the fridge my mother wrote when I first got back from camp.

Welcome home, baby!

I have to keep it together. I have to.

We make it upstairs and I glance in my mothers room. Her bed is still halfway across the floor. The board still popped out. It all feels so long ago.

My room is just how I left it. Paper's sprawled across the bed and floor. Tears well in my eyes. I turn to face Lance and shake my head. "I don't have anything left, I lost my mom, I never got to have my dad. I can't come back to this house. I can't live here knowing what she did. What she did because of me."

Lance hesitantly rests his hand on my shoulder, "Keith, you have me. You still have me."

I smile sadly and nod, "Of course I do. I can't get rid of you." I chuckle and he shakes his head smiling.

"Come on. Let's get your stuff and get out of here." he moves past me and into the room and before I can stop myself I take his hand.

"Lance... wait." he looks at our hands and then up at me. I pull him towards me and he smiles slightly.

"What are you-" he starts but I cut him off. Pressing my lips to his gently and pulling away just as quickly. His eyes are wide and his mouth gapes for a moment before breaking back into a smile and pulling me this time. Our lips meet once more, my hands meet either side of his face, his skin is warm and soft under my palms. He wraps his arms around my shoulders, pulling me in tighter, his lips pressing firmer. Our lips move together as we stand there still in the doorway. When he finally pulls away I can't catch my breath.

"I need to be honest," I say suddenly, "I think I might really like you, in a really gay way."

Lance smiles widely and rests his forehead on mine, "If I'm being honest, I've felt the same way, since the first day I met you."

I pull him into me again, I can feel his lips curl into a smile against mine and suddenly I have everything I could ever need.