A/N: I wanted to put a disclaimer here regarding Andy's blood type later in the chapter. No, I DO NOT know what his blood type in reality is; if I happened to get it right while writing this story a couple months ago, it's pure dumb luck. I felt I needed to make it that type to fit the storyline, and for no other reason beyond that.

Oh, and another thing...anything that appears to be in Spanish later in this chapter and throughout the story is actually Italian. If it's not obvious what the translation is, use Google Translate for a rough translation.
~Cyn


Outside his cabin, Ash heard the slow approach of one of the guys’ bikes. He figured that since he’d decided not to return home that one, if not all, of them would come looking for him, and knew exactly where he’d be. He could tell by the purr that there was only one bike, meaning there was likely only one of them unless one of the others had decided to ride bitch. But he was almost unconscious from the amount of blood he’d shed, his cabin, his oasis in the desert, looking as if he’d mauled a bear on a rampage with his own two hands and no weapon. If he was gonna be dead at last soon, it wouldn’t matter what the cabin’s interior looked like.

He lay on the floor of the hallway leading to the master bedroom, his bedroom in his home away from home, where he’d collapsed about ten minutes ago. After feeling so worthless and unloved by anybody except his grandparents for the last eleven years, he’d decided to take his own life. He couldn’t handle the stress and pain that living brought for him every day.

Andy moving and starting school at the same Hell he went to was only one of the many triggers for his suicide attempt. He felt so wrong, so dirty, for falling for a guy he knew would never love him in return. He felt like Beast from the iconic Disney movie, Beauty and the Beast, before Belle had shown up trying to save her father. He felt as if no one loved him and that he was doomed to live life as a terrifying monster…or, more aptly, a depressed freak. It was just as the motor outside was killed that he lost consciousness.


After climbing off the bike, Jake unstrapped his helmet while Andy tilted it down onto the kickstand, then hopped off and started unstrapping his own helmet. The cabin before them looked über creepy, what with being out in the middle of the woods with only one lamp on inside. From the looks of things, it was in the living room, meaning that Ashley was likely sitting there staring into space if he was in a bad mood, watching a movie if he was in a good one.

The two guys left their helmets hanging on either side of the handlebars, then headed up the stairs of the front porch. They didn’t really see the point in knocking, knowing that their friend would know they’d arrived from the roar of Andy’s Heritage Softail outside. Leading the way, Jake gently pushed open the front door, gasping in shock at what he saw before him.

Blood was splattered all over the front hallway and the furniture, and there were bloody handprints on the walls. Bloody foot prints, which looked like a pair of bare feet, led down the hall toward the master bedroom, some of them appearing to be smudged. They knew that Ashley was alone, so unless someone had broken into the secluded cabin and caught him at a defenseless moment, they knew he’d hurt himself, and badly. With baited breath, they both started down the hallway, only to come to a dead stop a few feet down it. Lying before them, face-down in a pool of blood, was their friend.

“Ashley!” Jake screamed, running to him. He dropped to his knees beside him, uncaring of the pool of blood he knelt in. “Ashley, can you hear me?”

“I think he’s already unconscious,” Andy said, managing to get his hand under his neck. He didn’t like feeling their friend’s blood on his hand, but he needed to check for a pulse. “He’s got a pulse, but it’s weak and thready. We don’t have time to wait for an ambulance, so we need to take him to the hospital ourselves.”

“Shit. Do you think he did this to himself?” he asked, helping to roll him over onto his back on a more or less clean part of the floor.

“Judging by some of the cuts I can see, I’d say he did,” he answered sadly. “They look too strategically placed, like self-harm wounds, and unless someone else broke in and tried to kill him, that’s where I’m laying my money.”

“You’re gonna have to help me.” He looked up at him with tears in his eyes. “I can pick him up bridal-style when he’s conscious, but I already know I can’t lift his dead weight. I’ve tried before.”

“All right. You get his torso from under his arms. Make sure his head can rest against your chest so we don’t hurt his neck,” he instructed. “I’ll get him by the legs, and we’ll have to use your mom’s car.”

“You gonna follow on your bike?” he asked, grunting as they lifted their friend.

“I’m gonna head home so I can tell my mom what happened.” He, too, grunted with the struggle. “She can’t text and obviously can’t answer a phone.”

“Call me when you’re ready to head over to the hospital, and I’ll give you directions.” Jake waddled as fast as he could toward the front door.

“That works for me. Let’s just get Ashley there, and quick,” Andy agreed.

Moving as fast as they possibly could, the pair managed to get Ashley down to Jake’s mother’s car. It was likely that she’d be pissed from the amount of blood in her upholstery, but he knew of a few ways to get it out. Maybe not to the degree that a forensics team wouldn’t find it, but enough that you wouldn’t know it was there at all if you looked with your naked eye.

Once he was in the passenger’s seat with the seatbelt strapped securely around him, Jake found the keys and hopped in the driver’s seat. He immediately cranked the car and floored it in reverse to turn around, then sped off with their dying friend by his side. Andy strapped his helmet on after securing Jake’s to his spare helmet rack, then straddled his bike once again. He chuckled wryly as he realized that his ass was starting to get sore after all the time he’d spent on it today, but that wasn’t gonna stop him from being there for his friend. He may not know Ashley Purdy very well, but he was smart enough to know he needed someone who cared.

After backing his bike up and turning it around, he gripped the clutch and twisted the throttle as he fired it up once again. He kicked the kickstand up, something he never did until it was running, then lifted his left foot onto the footpeg so he could put it in gear. The ride to his house seemed to take forever, but in reality only took about twenty minutes, and it was all because he was so worried. He knew that if he didn’t go home to tell his mother what’d happened, she’d be equally worried about him.

Andrew Dennis Biersack! she signed as soon as he walked through the front door. Where have you been? I’ve been worried sick about you!

Calm down, Mama. I’m fine, he signed in return, noticing the tears in her eyes. I didn’t mean to worry you. I went with Jake to check on Ashley.

What happened to him? Amy asked, calming down when she realized that her son was, in fact, safe.

He came to school and said his leg was killing him, claiming to’ve run into his dining room table last night and cut it on the corner, he began. Considering that I’ve self-harmed in the past because of the bullying, I figured he’d actually self-harmed last night, and Jake agreed. He told him to take his mother’s car since Ashley rode his own bike today because he didn’t want him hurting himself worse.

So you guys sent him home early with a different mode of transportation? she asked.

Yeah. When school let out, I followed Jake to Ashley’s house so we could return his bike and get Mrs. Pitts’ car back. Ashley’s grandparents, whom he lives with, said he wasn’t there. Since we were worried, we went to a cabin that got put in his name when he turned eighteen that was left to him by his parents when they died eleven years ago.

The poor thing. Tears welled up in her eyes once again.

My sentiments exactly. Anyway, when we got there, we saw no point in knocking because we rode my bike, and it’s pretty loud. We entered the cabin to see blood all over the place, as if he’d been attacked by someone or had mauled a bear with his own two hands and no weapon.

What happened to him? she asked, gasping in shock.

We don’t know exactly, but we think he tried to take his own life, Andy answered, tears welling up in his own eyes at last. Jake took him to the hospital, and I’m gonna head there in a little while myself, if that’s okay with you.

Of course that’s okay, Andy. I’m sorry for snapping at you when you first walked in; I was just so worried since you were late coming home.

I’m sorry, Mama. I didn’t think it’d take that long. Anyway, I’ve gotta call Jake so I can get directions to the hospital he took him to since I don’t exactly know my way around.

Nodding, Amy headed back to her bedroom to get ready for bed, knowing that was the safest place for her right now if her son wasn’t going to be home. Andy hated to send his mother to bed early, but they both knew it was best when he went out, and he couldn’t bring himself not to go check on Ashley. He realized as he went out front to call Jake that he didn’t just have a crush on the tanned young man; he was beginning to fall in love with him, even though he’d only known him for two days and was pretty sure he was straight as a pole.

The call to Jake, who was hysterical by now, didn’t take long, and he soon realized that the hospital wasn’t that far away from the school he attended. He promised to be there soon, once he got his mother tucked safely into bed, and just told him to take a few deep breaths to calm down a bit. His friend was still sobbing when they ended their call, but at least he’d regained some composure.

As he tucked his mother into her bed, he kissed her cheek before he left. Since it was somewhat chilly outside now, and he was all but skin-and-bones, he grabbed his leather jacket and leather gloves before he headed out and locked the door behind him. He pulled the gloves on before shoving his arms through the sleeves of the jacket, trying to cut down on the amount of wind that could get to his arms. He yanked the zipper up as he strode to his bike, then grabbed his helmet and strapped it on his head. He grabbed his night-vision goggles he wore after dark and slipped them on his face, the arms held against his temples by the strap of his helmet. Once finally ready to hit the road, he backed his bike down the driveway and into the street.

It didn’t take long for him to arrive at the local trauma center, which was where Jake’d brought Ashley due to the severity of his wounds. He figured that they’d still be in the ER, so that was where he went when he arrived at the medical facility. A short, plump woman who appeared to be about forty sat behind the reception desk, looking obviously bored since the night was apparently slow. He strode up to the desk, feigning a confidence he didn’t quite feel at the moment, and asked about his friend. She told him he’d been moved up to recovery on the third floor and gave him the room number, and Andy thanked her.

“Andy!” Jake cried when he spotted him walking off the elevator. “They won’t let me see him!”

“Did they at least tell you how he’s doing?” he asked, wrapping his arms around him.

“No! They won’t tell anybody but family or loved ones, and they don’t believe me when I say that we’re practically brothers!” he sobbed into his chest.

“Let me try something,” he murmured into his ear. He didn’t tell him what he was gonna do, so he knew it was gonna shock him. “Hi, I was wondering how a patient, Ashley Purdy, is doing? He was brought in about an hour ago by our friend, Jake.”

“What’s your relation to him?” the twenty-something-year-old receptionist asked, sounding a bit snobby.

“I’m his boyfriend, and only living loved one,” Andy answered. He felt Jake’s sharp intake of breath against his chest, but thankfully the bitch in front of them didn’t hear it. “His parents and all of his grandparents are dead. That’s why Jake here had to bring him in for me since he was the one who found him.”

“You can go back and see him. Room three-thirteen,” she snarled.

“What about Jake? They’ve practically been brothers for years.”

“Fine. Just keep it down since there are other patients on this floor.”

With a smile that looked somewhat saddened, he thanked her, took Jake’s hand, and began leading him down the hall and searching for Ashley’s room.

“You realize that Ash is gonna kill you for telling her that when he finds out, right?” Jake asked, sniffling.

“Let him. It got her to let us back here, didn’t it?” he countered, stopping outside a door labeled three-thirteen.

He gently knocked on the door, not wanting to interrupt any doctors in there or startle Ashley too badly if he’d somehow miraculously regained consciousness. When nobody answered, he assumed there were no doctors checking on him at the moment and that he was still unconscious, so he gently pushed the door open and led his other friend into the room behind him.

Lying in the center of the hospital bed in one of those backless gowns, under cheap white sheets and a matching blanket, was their unconscious friend. He had wires and tubes attached to him in a wide array of places, a monitor off to his left beeping in time with his beating heart. From what he could tell when he glanced up at it, Ashley’s pulse was just a tad slower than it should’ve been, his blood pressure and respirations just a tad too low, but otherwise, he seemed fine. The only other thing that bespoke the massive blood loss he’d suffered, be it at his own hand or someone else’s, was the deathly pale hue of his skin.

Jake burst into tears again when he caught sight of him, collapsing on the couch under the window from the shock. He’d lay money on their unconscious friend being the strongest out of their group normally, but since he didn’t know him that well, he couldn’t be sure. Either way, it hurt to see a close friend in this condition, but much worse if he was typically their rock. With a sigh, Andy took the chair next to his bedside, scooted it closer before sitting, and took his pale, limp hand in his.

“Che cosa ti è successo, Ashley?” he whispered. He hadn’t told anyone, not even his mother, that he’d woken up one morning with the ability to speak Italian. “Hai avuto Jake ed io enormemente preoccupata per te.”

The only response he got was the heart monitor slowing down even more, which he knew wasn’t good. Before anybody at the nurse’s station had a chance to check his vitals from afar, he reached over and pressed the “Call” button on the rail of the bed. Immediately, two nurses came through the door to check on him, followed by a doctor a couple minutes later.

It wasn’t long before they determined that, due to his blood loss earlier, he didn’t have enough fluids, especially blood, in his veins to keep his blood pressure up. When the doctor called down to the blood bank, he cursed like a sailor when they told him they didn’t have anymore blood available for a transfusion, which could possibly kill the dying young man. Andy overheard something about his friend literally being on Death’s door if they couldn’t find a transfusion fast enough.

“Can you do the transfusion directly from someone else’s veins?” he asked.

“We’ve only had to do that once because we almost never come across situations like this,” the doctor answered, barely looking at him.

“Use me.” He shed his jacket and pulled off his shirt, making sure his arms were left bare. “I’m O negative.”

“Are you sure? What relation are you to this young man, anyway?” the man asked, finally looking at him.

“I’m his boyfriend, and he’s the love of my life,” Andy answered, feigning tears to a degree. “If his life can be saved by doing a transfusion straight from my veins, then do it.”

Still looking uncertain, the doctor nodded toward one of the nurses. She returned the nod and rifled through the drawers on the stand next to Ashley’s bed, soon turning up a pen and a piece of paper, which she handed to Andy. He moved the chair over the the right side of his “boyfriend’s” bed, that way he could read over and sign the paper they’d handed him while they started the procedure.

Because he was of legal age to donate blood without parental consent, Andy had to carefully read over the waiver they’d handed him and sign it. He told them that he was most definitely signing it and to start the transfusion procedure using his left arm while he did so. The doctor nodded his ascent, and he and the nurses got to work prepping both the teens’ arms. Within moments, he felt the prick of the needle going into his arm, which had been tied off around the bicep with a tourniquet, and he winced slightly as he continued reading. By the time they’d gotten the needle on the other end of the tubing into Ashley’s arm, he’d signed his name and dated the page at the bottom with his bold, but legible script.

It was only moments afterward that the doctor and nurse untied the tourniquets around both his and Ashley’s arms, the crimson liquid flowing through the tubing from one body to the other. Jake sat on the couch, still in shock at what was happening to their friend and that he’d made such a selfless offer with only about two seconds to think it through. He smiled reassuringly at the other young man, his arm now propped up beside him on a stack of pillows that rested on the arm of the chair.

Andy glanced over at his friend, sighing softly when he saw some color returning to his pale complexion and his vitals coming up, slowly but surely. Even the doctor sighed his relief, glad to see that the man-to-man transfusion was working. But despite the life-saving transfusion he was getting from his supposed boyfriend, Ashley remained unconscious. The doctor told them that it might be a day or two, even with this latest transfusion, before he regained consciousness. He and Jake both knew that a lot of questions were going to be asked of all three of them once he did, but they didn’t mind giving honest answers.

It would be Ashley who’d likely try to lie to them.



When Ash regained consciousness, he was blinded by a bright light as soon as he tried to open his eyes. He immediately closed them again, knowing without a doubt that his suicide attempt had failed. He could tell by the scents surrounding him, mostly alcohol and hand sanitizer, that he was in a hospital. But there were several questions bouncing around his skull. Who’d found him? Who’d either called EMS or brought him to the hospital? Most importantly, couldn’t they see what a wreck he was, and that he’d wanted to die that night?

He had no idea how much time had passed since he slit his arm from elbow to wrist, trying to make sure he’d bleed out so much that he couldn’t be saved. Obviously that endeavor had failed if he was still alive, and only now was he beginning to feel physical pain. His left forearm burned like the fires of Hell from the gash he’d made with a steak knife in the kitchen of his cabin, but his right forearm hurt like hell, too. When he finally felt that he could open his eyes and not be blinded quite so badly, he looked down at his right forearm to see an IV going into his elbow with crimson liquid flowing through it.

Following the tubing with his eyes, he realized that the crimson liquid wasn’t coming from a bag on the pole over his head; no, it was coming directly from another person. He let his gaze trail up higher to the person’s face, and through the mass of raven hair that’d fallen into it, he could tell it was Andy. The young man appeared to be in an exhausted slumber, his head resting on his chest as he sat propped up in the chair by his bedside.

So Andy was the one who’d saved him, huh? Well, that didn’t make much sense, considering that they hadn’t known one another long enough for him to know where the cabin was, much less for him to be so selfless as to donate the blood in his veins to someone as worthless as him. Ash wished the young man would’ve let him die that night, especially since he’d fallen in love with him in two short days, knowing damn good and well that the sentiment would never be reciprocated by someone like him. He then thought that, selfless or no, there was no way he’d found his secluded cabin on his own. One of the other guys had to’ve led him to it, which meant that they would’ve been with Andy when he was found.

A soft groan followed by a sigh attracted his attention across the room. He saw Jake curled up on the couch beneath the window, dark bags under his closed eyes. So it was Jake who’d led Andy up to his cabin, which meant that they’d found him together. How ironic for his brother and the guy he wished was his lover to find him and manage to save his life.

“Mmm…oww,” he groaned, trying to shift in the rock-hard bed. His back was killing him.

“Mmm… Ash?” He glanced over again to see Jake’s eyes open, and he was looking dead at him. “Oh, my Godsmack! Ash, you’re awake!”

“Yeah, although I wish I was dead,” Ash grumbled under his breath.

“We’re gonna have a serious talk when they let you out of here,” Jake growled, moving another chair to his other bedside. “The only reason you’re not getting locked up in the psychiatric ward is because Andy and I convinced them that someone broke into the cabin and attacked you with a knife.”

“Why didn’t you guys just let me die?” Tears welled up in his eyes. “Can’t you see what a wreck I am?”

“Ash, I know losing your parents was hard for you, and that depression is hard to cope with,” he told him. “But you know you can come talk to any of us.”

“It’s not just that,” he spat, refraining from looking at Andy’s sleeping form beside him.

“Then what is it? We wanna help you. Even Andy.” His best friend glanced over to the man beside him. “Hell, he’s basically been pumping blood into your veins for twelve hours so you’d survive.”

“Why on Earth would he care enough to bother?”

“Because I love you.” With gasps of shock, both men turned their attention to the young guy sitting beside them. His icy-blue eyes were open now, although he still looked sleepy.

“Of course. Tell me a lie now that I’m conscious again,” Ash growled.

“I don’t lie about what I feel,” Andy told him, honesty in those magnificent eyes. “You guys may not know me well enough to believe me, but it’s the truth. I haven’t felt like this about someone in years.”

“Can’t you idiots see that I wanted to die that night?” he asked, some of the steam now taken from his kettle.

“But why? Why would you wanna end your own life like that?” Jake countered, sad and concerned.

“You were right about the depression from my parents’ deaths,” he said, not giving a shit if Andy heard now. It was obvious he knew several of his secrets already; why not just go ahead and bare all?

“And I can tell that there’s more to it than that,” he told him.

“I’m worthless, I’m fat, I’m a waste of oxygen…and now, Andy’s blood,” he said, beginning to sob. “I’ve never been good enough for anybody, and I never will be. I put up with it for as long as I could stand, but falling in love with Andy pushed me over the edge.”

“Why would falling in love with me push you over the edge, Ash?” Andy asked, tears in his eyes.

“You say you love me, but I know better. I’m worthless, and you’re as straight as a pole,” he sobbed. He couldn’t even reach up to wipe away his own tears.

“That’s where you’re wrong. On both counts,” the younger man told him. “Like I said, I love you, and I don’t lie about how I feel. It might take me a while to admit my feelings, but when I do, they’re not lies. Secondly, I’m not straight; in fact, I’m as queer as a three-dollar bill.”

Shocked, Ash’s jaw hung open as he stared into those icy-blue orbs. “What?”

“You heard me. No one, not even my mother, knew my sexual orientation before today. It was locked deep in my head.” He looked him dead in the eye. “I got beaten up and bullied enough because of the way I dress, the makeup I wear, the music I listen to, and the fact that my mother is a deaf-mute; I didn’t want to add to my pain and suffering by coming out of the closet.”

He was unable to say anything and hung his head in shame.

“And before you ask, I decided to donate my blood to you when you almost died because, even if the sentiment is never reciprocated, I love you and I couldn’t watch you die if I knew I could save you.”

Notes