A Part of me I'll never forget (Klance)

Chapter 10: Someone to You

Hey bitches! I know its been a while but I will updating all of my stories today and make them extra long than I usually do! I hope you are all enjoying the stories I have written so far and the sequel to my Damian Wayne story is finally put up. Give me any suggestions on how you want me to continue and if I should write anymore stories.

Keiths POV

There it was again. The beeping. Probably my least favorite sound. It always meant that something happened that wasn't supposed to happen. It always brought bad news. Most of the time the beeping is hear when you wake from the hospital. I couldn't remember what happened.

Right. Lance brought me here and I actually told him about dad and then I got sick. Oh god, I got sick. I hated being sick. It was a subconscious fear of mine. I still haven't figured out the correct reason why but it annoyed me. Being sick wasn't the most easy thing to avoid. Germs were everywhere and no matter how much hand sanitize I used or how many times I showered or washed my hands, there is always that chance. Knowing how unlucky I am, that usually ends up happening to me. I get sick at least once a year and that is always the worst day of my life. At least I thought it was, after mom died.

That was, no doubt, the worst day of my life. Watching her die by my fathers hands and him telling them the false story and them actually believing it. That is why I hate cops. They never actually see the truth. They look at the evidence, come up with a story and its done. History. My dad even before mom died was an alcoholic. He would get drunk at least once a day and since I can remember, he would always start to yell at my mom. Yelling turned into hitting. Hitting progressed into tools or weapons.

It was my birthday when I found her dead. I was excited because she told me before I left for school that she had a big surprise for me after I was done. Being the little eight year old I was, I was giddy all day. My leg bouncing up and down as I stared down the clock until the teacher dismissed us and we went to our buses. As soon as the bus stopped at my stop, I ran off the bus as fast as my little legs could go. I ran to my door and opened it finding nothing there. I remember how confused I was and looked around heading to living room. That was when I found her face down the living room with a blood puddle surrounding her body. I didn't know what happened afterwards but I knew that my dad was behind it. The only reason I know this is because right before I passed out, I had been screaming. This made him come up behind me and put a hand over my mouth whispering in my ear what he did. 'Your mother wasn't listening as usual again. This time, she didn't survive her accident. Good thing I'll be able to get away with this.'

Later that day, the police said she had committed suicide based on the cuts that were on her wrists. My dad cried tears that day. Fake ones. I would know because I knew mine were real. You can always tell when you know from experience. I always told everyone that she was in the Iraq war and she died. Sometimes, I even believed it because it made me feel better. But it was never the full truth.

I opened my eyes in the hospital and had tears rolling down my face after the memories that had resurfaced. I wanted them buried deep into my brain. That usually didn't work well. I saw Lance in the corner chair and I decided not to wake him. He looked so peaceful. He was smiling in his sleep. He must be dreaming of something nice. I looked down at my hands as I noticed something that seemed amiss. It felt... weird. I noticed one of my fingers having a pretty large bandage on it. It was funny because it was almost like I couldn't move my finger. That was when I remembered a certain event. I always knew remembering the past was a bad thing.

Dad. He cut it. Clean off. What was he going to do? How as he going to function? How was he going to be able to do everything? He would be known as handicapped. People would laugh at him. Make fun of him more than usual leading up to more bullying and more bruises. I didn't even notice that I was still staring at my hand and how heavily I was breathing until I hear the loud beeping that was filling the room. He heard shuffling in what seemed like a chair and the bed drop around him. His attention was drawn from his hand as someone picked it up. Almost like they were examining it. He looked up to see who it was. None other than the Lance McClain that was sleeping in the chair a little while ago. He looked him in his eyes. The beeping seemed to slow but not as slow as his normal heart rate.

His eyes seemed to get him lost. It sounded cheesy to him but it was the truth. He might be falling to Lance. He didn't have time to think about that however as Lance began to speak. When he spoke, he sounded very sincere and he seemed worried. Why would be be worried about me?

"Keith? Look, I know this may be hard to hear. After your dad did this to you, he chopped off your finger in the process. They will be able to attach it again because I saved it in time but it will be a little hard to get used too. I just, I want a question answered. Why would he do this to you? I mean, he is your dad. He is supposed to love you."

Lance was done talking and I was just trying to process what he had said. I wasn't so worried about my finger at moment because at least I would be getting it back but it was what he said about my dad. He was my dad and he was supposed to love me. Not after everything he had done. Someone who is in love with someone wouldn't do anything to hurt them and would protect them at all costs. That wasn't the case so how could he love him? How was he supposed to love him back? As he was processing this, he didn't notice what was happening. His nails were digging into his skin as he was having his own little therapy session. He couldn't feel the pain as he was too focused on the words that were being said in his head. He didn't stop until he heard Lances yelling and him grabbing his arm.

He was shocked as he popped out of his thoughts. He finally realized the pain in his arm and hissed. There was a good amount of blood spilling from the edges of the cuts. He saw Lance grab a towel from the bathroom and wrap his arm with it. The blood wasn't soaking through yet. He didn't know what he was doing as he hugged Lance. Everything seemed to stop.

"Thank you."

I knew that I was crying and the wires that were once again connected to his arms were stretching as far as they could go. I didn't care. I needed a comfort hug. I always got that feeling sometimes and most of the time I couldn't because I barley had any friends other than Pidge. Pidge was busy most of the time and wasn't always around which I understood.

"Did you want me to answer your question now Lance?"