It had taken three times. Three times of his phone going off before he finally picked up. Two more than it should have taken him to answer. It wasn’t all his fault though. He had been preparing for an important meeting but he had ran out of that meeting after Eliza had called, giving him the news about Andy.
This was way more important..
Alexander wasn’t sure how exactly he made it to the children’s hospital. One minute he was running out the set of doors to his office and the next he was running in the doors of the hospital.
This hospital wasn’t busy but there were doctors and nurses all over the place and Alexander had to dodge people as he ran down the hallway to the private room that Andy was in. Alexander tried to come to a stop after running from the front doors to the door to the private room.
After taking a moment to catch his breath, he stood up straight and fixed his suit before he knocked once on the door. He reached out, taking the doorknob in his hand before turning it to open the door to the room. “Angelica?” He asked softly, his eyes sweeping over the room soon settling on her.
he hasn’t been dead thirty minutes yet. john wasn’t here long; he couldn’t look at andy --- andy’s corpse, angelica forces herself to think --- more than he had to. angelica can’t force herself to step away. the doctors closed andy’s big brown eyes and angelica couldn’t allow them to do much more than that. they were wide and scared and that is the last memory she has of her little boy. the second his doctor closed his eyes, john had left, breaking the news to everyone, discussing things angelica can’t begin to imagine.
funeral arrangements. the cruel words force themselves into her thoughts. they’d talked about this, she and john. they wouldn’t include andy, but he made his opinions known anyway. he’s so AWARE, much more realistic than a little boy his age should ever have had to be. he’s eleven. oh god, he’s only eleven.
angelica can’t bring herself to leave her boy. she can’t let him go. what if he wakes up and she’s not here? he’d be so scared and she can’t do that to him. she knows, in some quiet part of her mind, that he won’t wake up. she’s shaking violently with the sobs that won’t stop. denial is easier when he looks like this, when his eyes are closed and he looks like he’s sleeping, like he’ll wake up. she can’t imagine a world in which he doesn’t exist. if she leaves, if she goes, it’s like she’s ACCEPTING this new world she doesn’t recognize.
it takes a minute for her to realize someone’s said her name. her sight is blurry, nonstop tears flowing down her cheeks. she’s a mess. her makeup streaks. none of it matters. nothing matters. andy did not deserve six years of suffering only to die at the end. he doesn’t deserve suffering at all. he’s so good, and so sweet. all of her boys clung to her when they were YOUNGER, but andy never stopped, andy was always at her side, her precious little protector. he’s so shy, hiding behind her legs unless someone said something to her he didn’t like. then he became her knight in shining armor, so angry he trembles and his little voice croaks.
“it should have been me.” she barely looks up when she cries it out. it would do her no good. the tears won’t let her see anything beyond shapes. “why wasn’t it me?”
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