PIZZA IS S TIER

First of all, he swears he doesn’t need anything for Father’s Day. In his mind you did all the work bringing bub into the world which earned you everything forever. You disagree.

You start planning a month in advance. You get him a card covered in pictures of all of you (including Kaya!!!) and plan a lovely home cooked meal

The morning of your up with bub before he wakes up. You get them dressed in a cute lil outfit and them take them up to papa. You try to get them to hold the card but they just keep chewing it

Has gets a little misty eyed reading the card then smothers both you and bub with kisses.

Later on you all go on a walk together, he’s got Kayas leash in one hand and push the stroller with the other (he loves pushing the stroller) You snap plenty of pictures for the Father’s Day post.

She couldn't remember the last thing she ate that she managed to digest. The few biscuits she tried to eat yesterday to line her stomach had come back up half an hour later. The toast she had for breakfast didn't last five minutes and the water and juice she'd been forcing herself to sip in small intervals hadn't stayed down for long either.

Her arms bound tight around her legs, pinning her knees against her stomach as if that would do anything to make her feel better or stop the sickness.

Lolling her head forward, (Y/n) slumped her temple on top of her knees and tried to will herself to stop crying. She couldn't. The tears trickled down her face whether she willed them away or not. She barely had any fluids left in her system and now she was wasting them on tears.

The thumping in her head combined with the echo of her pulse in her ears seemed to overpower everything else. (Y/n) didn't even hear Ashton trailing into the kitchen until he was knelt down in front of her with his hands gently stroking up and down her arms to gain her attention.

"Baby?"

(Y/n) shivered when she tried to lift her head from her knees and suddenly felt Ashton's hand cupping her chin. His thumb stroked along her lower lip as he angled her head back so they were looking at one another.

His eyes searched hers, scouring deep through her eyes and all across her frame like he was trying to slot pieces of a puzzle back into place.

The puzzle became clear when (Y/n)'s lower lip started to waver and caught the main part of Ashton's attention. Her lips were chapped, they were so dry they were beginning to crack and when he dipped his thumb across her lower lip and pulled a little, he saw that they were discoloured too.

She was dehydrated.

"When was the last time you ate something? And be honest with me." He had a sneaking suspicion (Y/n) might try and glaze over the truth if she didn't want him to worry. Even though it was a bit too late for that.

By the state of her chapped lips, the discolour beneath her eyes and the way (Y/n) was trembling back and forth, Ashton guessed she hadn't managed to eat or keep anything down for a while. That was enough to panic him.

He watched (Y/n)'s eyes with that distant sheen across them like she was finding it incredibly hard to keep focus or concentrate, but she just about managed to look up at him through hooded lashes. Her head wavered just a little with the shudders that continued to roll through her frame in time with each burst of panic Ashton could feel building up in his chest.

(Y/n) shrugged. She couldn't answer that because she didn't know. For the last three days she had been trying to eat little and as often as she could, desperate to feel at ease, to stop the horrid pangs of sickness in her stomach. She wasn't even feeling hunger pains anymore, just constant unease.

Each time (Y/n) tried to eat something, whether it was a bite of toast, a biscuit, a bit of porridge, just something to give herself substance, she ended up throwing it back up within half an hour, if not less.

"Did you keep anything down yesterday?" He hadn't been home in the afternoon yesterday, something Ashton regretted as soon as he got back and realised how unwell (Y/n) was feeling. But he didn't know if she had managed to eat a little yesterday, or none at all.

"No," (Y/n) shook her head but immediately regretted it when her head splintered and throbbed with agony. Spots blistered before her eyes and she lolled her temple forward into her trembling hands. It felt like her head was going to implode, and nothing was making it better.

Ashton's teeth sank down into his lower lip as he shuffled back a step and got up to reach onto the counter behind (Y/n). Within a minute, he filled a glass with cold water and handed it down to her.

"Try this for me, I'm calling the nurse."

Ashton's own stomach clenched when he saw the look (Y/n) gave him through watering eyes, but she couldn't really say anything to that because she knew he was right.

Maybe the nurse would be able to give them some advice or a prescription for something to stop this sickness.

(Y/n) never considered when she found out that she was pregnant, that morning sickness would become such an enemy. She expected some form of sickness, of course she did, but not like this. Not to the point that even a drink would make her ill, that water would be thrown back up and she would end up going days without properly ingesting anything because her stomach refused every form of sustenance.

Her body was crying out for food and for a drink to stop her headaches and stop her from feeling this weak and dizzy, but it wasn't happening.

(Y/n) had tried to have a drink, that was the reason she was in the kitchen, but her legs had started to shake and she felt like her body suddenly weighed a ton. Sitting on the kitchen floor had been her only option when her knees quaked and threatened to give way.

It was as if her head had tripled in size when she lifted it until the back of her head was propped up against the kitchen cupboard. She had to close her eyes to stop the spots from dancing in front of her vision and to try and clear her system.

She could just about hear Ashton's gritty voice in hall, clearly he'd found his phone and was now on a call with the nurse.

(Y/n) couldn't help but cringe. She felt like a burden to everyone. It didn't bear thinking about how many times she or Ashton had called the nurse over the last month. She was fifteen weeks pregnant and had started to lose weight rather than put any on. None of the nutrition powdered shakes or the sickness tablets the doctor prescribed had done anything for (Y/n). She couldn't hold anything down.

It was a godsend that the band had already finished their latest album; (Y/n) dreaded to think what it would of been like if they were still recording and finishing up and she felt like this. She would never make it into the studio feeling like this, let alone try to sing or stop shaking long enough to record her guitar solos and melodies on the piano.

Her hands continued to shake so badly that the glass of water in her grasp swayed from left to right, dribbling water down the sides and along her hand causing pins and needles in its wake.

She tried to take a few sips.

The water felt refreshing against her dry lips; (Y/n) couldn't remember when she last managed to keep a drink down. Everything kept coming back up so it seemed easier not to bother trying to have anything in the first place.

Her throat felt a little less sore with each tiny gulp of water she managed to take, but it did nothing to soothe the ache deep within her stomach.

Her ears wouldn't focus enough to listen to what Ashton was saying, but he wasn't speaking to her anyway. He knew the situation, he knew what to ask of the nurse and what to tell her to describe the situation and what was happening. It seemed that every other day they were calling the nurse or the doctor to ask for help; nothing seemed to work.

When another burst of shaking flooded her system and she could feel the glass slipping through her fingers, (Y/n) hurriedly set it down beside her on the tiled floor. Better to leave the drink for now than force herself to drink anymore or risk shattering the glass.

Her fingers began to drum against the tops of her knees as if trying to trick her mind into concentrating on something else for the time being.

But (Y/n)'s wet lips parted and she quickly hunched over to the left when her stomach tensed and that awful sensation shot right up through her chest. There was no time to groan, to hold her breath or try and stop it from happening.

Water spluttered past her lips as if (Y/n) had just been pulled from a river and revived. It spewed onto the floor and dribbled down her chin and made her throat ache and burn while it felt like someone had reached into her chest and clenched their fist around her stomach. Squeezing until every trace of contents was prized free from her system.

One hand shot up to grasp at her throat that was scratched raw while the other flopped down against the floor, propping herself up when she started to waver. She couldn't keep her knees propped up any longer, feet sliding down against the floor until her legs were splayed out in front of her.

"Ash, please-" (Y/n) wasn't sure what she was asking for, but she stopped short as she started to gag and croak.

There was nothing left to throw up, but her stomach either didn't know or didn't care. She heaved until it was just air and bile passing her sore lips while her system started to shake and quiver.

Ashton barely got his phone shoved back in his pocket before he halted beside the kitchen island. Lips curling into a grimace when he saw the puddle of water beside (Y/n) and the way that she was hunched over. He didn't need to ask to know what was going on. This was as bad as he thought; exactly as worrying as it had sounded down the phone to the nurse.

Crouching down on his knees, Ashton reached his hands out for (Y/n), one hand settling on her waist while the other slid around the side of her neck and helped to slowly reel her up before she laid out on the floor. He knew if she laid down it would be a lot harder to get her back up again and she might even pass out.

"Up we get baby," He urged softly and leant forward to kiss her temple. He felt (Y/n) hum in response while her trembling hands settled on his shoulders for support, making Ashton tremor along with her. "The nurse said go to the emergency room baby, they want to admit you."

"Wh- Ash, no," (Y/n) slumped her temple onto Ashton's shoulder, her skin feeling like hot coals burning against his neck.

She didn't want to go to the hospital. (Y/n) had hoped that they could just go down to the doctors surgery like last time. She would get checked over, blood pressure taken, and they would give her stronger meds and more nutrition shakes or vitamin tablets to come back home with.

Going to the hospital wasn't what (Y/n) wanted because that meant this was more serious than they'd of liked. It meant being put on a ward and not being discharged for a couple of days, at least. Going there and being admitted meant they thought she might be at risk, that she might lose the baby. That wasn't something (Y/n) wanted to contemplate.

She felt Ashton press another kiss to the top of her head before he tried to carefully reel her up from the crook of his neck so they were level again. Although he had to cradle the back of her neck to stop her head from crashing backwards.

"You're dehydrated, you need fluids and sickness meds so you can eat. The nurse sounded worried, so now so am I."

As soon as Ashton explained the situation, the nurse told him to take (Y/n) to the emergency room and she would call ahead to let them know why. She wanted (Y/n) to be put on a IV drip to get some fluids and nutrients into her system and to get anti-emmetics straight away. She said they couldn't wait any longer without taking a big risk and Ashton knew what that implied.

He wormed both arms around (Y/n)'s waist and carefully eased her up from the floor. He didn't care if she lolled against his chest, if she put all of her weight onto him and he had to carry her to the car, as long as she was up on her feet, Ashton would do the rest.

It was too hard to keep her eyes open when the afternoon sun felt blinding and her headache was multiplying with every passing second.

(Y/n) buried her face into Ashton's chest, arm shifting down to bind around his waist as she leant into his side. She knew he was anxious because his fingers were constantly drumming against her hip he was clutching tight and his chest was stern like he had been covered in cement that was starting to harden.

She was glad when they were finally in the car. Her arms bound tight around her middle, hugging one of Ashton's jacket against her chest, not because she was cold but so she had some sort of comfort and something to ground herself. Her feet were tapping against her bag at the bottom of the foot well and her head was slumped against the window, eyes closed tight and perspiration soaked against the glass.

Maybe going to the hospital was the best thing, it just wasn't the road that (Y/n) wanted to go down.

"How- how long, do you think we'll stay?" (Y/n) darted her tongue across her lips that again felt dry, despite the water she hadn't long thrown up.

When she tried to crack one eye open, she caught sight of Ashton as he drove. He always looked like he was concentrating especially when he was driving, but right now he looked perplexed. One elbow resting on the door, hand scratching and brushing against the stubble he was starting to grow out. Curls tamed back with gel behind his ears with just one or two popping out of place here and there.

Arms tense beneath his sleeves with his other hand drumming against the steering wheel to stop him from fidgeting and squirming so much from nerves. At least with his glasses perched on his nose, the anxiety pooling within his eyes was closed off from view.

"I don't know babe, a few days maybe." He didn't want to guess and get it wrong. If Ashton guessed they would stay a few days and then (Y/n) ended up being kept in for a week or even longer, he knew she wouldn't cope and her hopes would be crushed.

But he really doubted that they would be going back home tonight or tomorrow for that matter. He had a gut instinct that (Y/n) would be staying in the hospital for a good few days.

"The interview, in two days." (Y/n) croaked, voice cracking as she closed her eyes again and huddled up closer to the door, doing her best to relax yet fight off the urge to fall asleep or pass out.

"We're not gonna make that." Ashton's tone was definite. He knew without a doubt that even if (Y/n) was back home in two days, she wouldn't be well enough to do a live performance and then follow up interview that the band had been booked for.

"Fuck. You- you're still going," It sounded more like an order than a prompt and it made Ashton's lips curl up slightly.

They hadn't made it public that (Y/n) was pregnant. Neither of them wanted the whirlwind that the press would spark online and all he discourse that would come with it. They didn't want the public or fans constantly asking or getting involved or diminishing the new album with this news.

And the rest of the band had been great about it, all agreeing they would try and keep the pregnancy secret and under wraps for as long as possible.

Which was why (Y/n) had wanted to go to the interview they had lined up this week, and all the others after that. So people wouldn't think anything was amiss and they could continue to promote the album when it was due to be released.

If ever any of the band missed an interview or weren't in the 5sos videos they posted online, then they started to speculate and guess why. If (Y/n) started missing promotional events like this people would think something was wrong. It was bad enough that because she and Ashton were in the same band and were married, that people often liked to speculate whether their relationship was 'strong' or 'having problems.'

Ashton echoed "I'll go," although he wasn't too sure yet, it would all depend on how (Y/n) felt and whether she got settled and started to improve or not. He would go if he could to try and stop any rumours from starting and to promote the band.

By the time Ashton pulled up in the hospital car park, his nerves were ignited and on full alert.

He grimaced as he got out the car, eyes focused on (Y/n) who looked like she had passed out already, but he knew she hadn't because she had been humming along to the radio on the way.

"Woah baby, come here." He cooed softly when he opened the passenger door and (Y/n) almost fell out if it weren't for her belt still strapped tight around her frame.

He bent at the knees, hovering over (Y/n) to undo her belt and loop her bag on his shoulder. Ashton didn't like the distant, unfocused look in her eyes or how she started to shake when he helped her climb out the car. Her hands braced on his broad shoulders and she shook her head to stop him from trying to walk away from the car just yet.

"I- sick," She grunted, breathing hoarsely as her stomach creased and she lolled her head to the left, feeling the need to be sick but all she could do was cough.

"I know babe, but you won't be. You can't," Ashton echoed with a defeated tone because he knew she didn't have anything left in her stomach to be sick. This is what he tried to tell the nurse, (Y/n) was still coughing and gagging and heaving despite not having anything left in her system. All she could throw up was bile and stomach acid, and that wasn't right.

He took a few steps back, coaxing (Y/n) along with him so he could shut the car door. But when Ashton lifted his head, his expression hardened behind the glasses perched on his nose and he bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from glaring or growling.

Great.

Camera flashes in the near distance. A gathering that was slowly getting closer. People getting out of a car he recognised that had been on the road behind them for the last ten minutes of their drive here.

The paparazzi. They were taking pictures when (Y/n) was practically heaving and could barely stand up straight, let alone defend herself and tell them to leave them alone.

"Let's get inside, hm?" His voice softened ever so slightly and he opened the back door so he could grab his cap that was strewn on the backseat. A cap that happened to have 5sos stitched across the front; one of the merchandise from their previous tours.

He set the cap on (Y/n)'s head and tugged it down until her face was shielded and he didn't have to say a word for (Y/n) to know why he had suddenly done that.

She cowered down beside him, cheek pressed up against his chest, body huddled into his side with his arm bound tight around her waist and his body curved around her. Making sure that if any photos got taken, Ashton would be the main centre piece, not her.

She didn't need to have her picture plastered across the internet when she was sick. They could see she wasn't well, they were aiming for the emergency room. Why did they feel the need to try and take pictures?

This wasn't news, it was speculating gossip at best. And if there was one thing Ashton hated about being in the public eye, it was how gossip about the band and each of them personally could spread like wildfire.

***

When the back door opened, Luke leant to one side in his seat and pulled at the belt strapped over his chest so he could look behind him. His head bent back and a smile pulled at his lips, flashing his pearly whites when the couple climbed into the car.

It had been a while since the five of them had done a car pool together, they usually always had a lot of fun and games when they were going somewhere. It was easier to join together like this when they were going to interviews, and it was normally Michael who drove them. He had the biggest car.

But as Luke scanned his eyes over the couple, his smile started to morph slightly as they clambered in and closed the door.

"It's eleven o'clock… and you're eating an ice lolly?" Luke glanced across to the dashboard to check he'd gotten the time right before he looked back at (Y/n) with an arched brow and a funny expression tugging at his lips.

That was one of the more stranger choices that (Y/n) could have chosen for her breakfast; it wasn't as if they were experiencing a heat wave right now.

(Y/n) was rather glad that it was Michael who was driving, he had a car that was more spacious than theirs with two seats in the front, two in the middle and two in the back. Meaning her, Ashton and Calum didn't all have to cramp together. Calum had graciously sat himself in the back so they didn't have to weave around and clamber through. (Y/n) had a feeling he remembered that she would get car sick if she was riding in the very back.

As soon as she sat down, (Y/n) flopped her head back and closed her eyes, slouching her shoulders down as if she was starting to deflate and all the air was quickly leaving her system.

She could barely feel her fingers as she grappled with her belt, looping it over her chest that felt like it was heating up, despite the cooling breeze circulating through the car. (Y/n) brought the strawberry ice lolly she'd brought with her to her lips, trying to ignore the way her stomach flipped at the taste.

"Don't judge, it's the only way she'll get fluids in her system."

Ashton leant forward to give Luke a light tap on the shoulder since he was sitting directly behind him before he flopped in his seat, buckling up just as Michael revved the engine and shot from the curb.

"Not judging, just observing." With his hands held up in surrender, Luke looked forward again and lifted one leg to wedge his knee up against the dashboard.

He wasn't judging, none of them would dare judge.

They all knew (Y/n) had been struggling to eat. Each of them had shared their concerns when they kept messaging Ashton to check in and each time he seemed to tell them they were at the hospital. (Y/n) had spent more time in the doctor's office and down at the hospital than she did at home, and they could all see how much of a toll it was taking on her.

She'd missed three interviews so far and a live performance on a tv show and Ashton had been worried out of his mind for the last three months.

If eating an ice lolly or ice cream was the only way (Y/n) could get fluids and nutrients in her system rather than food or drink, none of them would judge. They would go out and fetch her some more if necessary, they would do anything they could to help her if that's what she needed.

"Are the meds working yet?" Calum leant forward, bracing his elbows on his knees as he looked at the two seats in front of him, staring between (Y/n) and Ashton.

He didn't want to voice it, but he didn't think that (Y/n) looked very well. Her expression was bleak, she wasn't bothering to try and open her eyes and she looked as if she had absolutely no energy left within her at all. Her body was slumped back in her seat, shoulders lax and the ice lolly was pressed against her lips as if she had no will power to try and eat it. Just allowing it to melt against her lips for the time being.

"I managed a protein shake yesterday." (Y/n) lolled her head to the right but she could barely find the will power to open her eyes and look behind her at Calum.

The doctors had been kind enough to prescribe different flavoured complan shakes that mixed with milk and were a substitute for a meal. It was supposed to be a good way to get some nutrients into her system since she had no appetite. She couldn't stomach the banana flavour and the vanilla one was revolting, but the chocolate and strawberry ones were manageable at times.

She'd managed to keep one shake down yesterday, much to Ashton's relief which meant she'd had one meal and two ice lollies yesterday.

"No one would guess you're nineteen weeks pregnant though," Ashton whispered softly, his eyes dragging down to glance up and down her frame and he reached his hand out to graze his fingertips across her stomach.

There was barely any change to her shape at all, no one would guess or even think she was pregnant. For the time being (Y/n) wouldn't have to wear baggy clothing to hide her pregnancy, no one would be any the wiser. Ashton was slightly disappointed that she had no bump or shape or outline yet, it almost felt like they were imagining it or making it up.

(Y/n) hummed quietly and grazed her free hand along her stomach before she sighed and held her right hand out towards Ashton. She cracked one eye open to see the serious look he gaze her as he stuck his phone back in his pocket and stared down at the lolly she was holding out in front of him.

It was half eaten with strawberry syrup now running down the stick and trickling onto (Y/n)'s hand. It was melting fast because of how long she had taken to try and eat it, but she couldn't stomach any more. It was going to melt and make a mess if Ashton didn't help and (Y/n) didn't want to mess up Michael's car.

"That's the only thing you've managed this morning." Ashton commented quietly, worry seeping into his tone but he still took the lolly from her when (Y/n) gave him that sad look and those pleading eyes.

"I can't."

"Alright, alright," He mused, biting into the lolly to stop it from dripping down his hand too.

Closing her eyes, (Y/n) laid her cheek against the chair and bound both arms around her middle now that Ashton was finishing off the lolly. At least she'd managed some of it, that meant she had a bit of juice in her system and her mouth and throat weren't dry and sore any more. Her lips weren't chapped like they had been the other day either. She didn't feel on the verge of passing out, and that was an improvement.

Each time the car went over a bump or took a rather sharp corner, (Y/n) jolted her knees up near her stomach and tightened her arms around her frame. She could feel her head splitting apart like a coconut, as if Ashton was whacking his drumsticks against her skull non-stop.

Headaches were a constant companion recently from the persistent dehydration, and there was very little (Y/n) could do about it if her system wouldn't hold down food or water.

Her lips tried to curve into a smile when she cracked her eyes open and looked at Ashton, watching him tap the empty lolly stick against his lips that were glazed pink. It didn't take him long to polish off the lolly before it melted. He looked rather endearing, absentmindedly pursing his lips every now and then against the stick that would be glued against his mouth soon if he carried on like that.

He had his phone in his left hand, scrolling through an app while Luke was humming and jamming out to the music he was playing through the speakers from his phone. (Y/n) had no doubt that one- or many- of their songs would come through the speakers within the next few minutes.

She wasn't sure what conversation they were all having, she must have been zoning out because Calum was chipping in and Ashton nodded with a hum, but (Y/n) had no idea what it was they were talking about.

Reaching her hand out, (Y/n) rolled down the window and shuffled to the left to be closer to the fresh air. She tried to take a few slow, deep breaths to calm her system down. She didn't feel great, but recently she hadn't felt anything close to normal and this was no different.

(Y/n) had just hoped that she would feel okay today, that she would look normal enough to go and do this interview with the rest of the band. They were all supposed to be doing interviews ready to promote the new album that was being released next month.

Fans had noticed that (Y/n) had missed quite a few promotional interviews and had been absent from the 5sos account activity and videos recently. And Ashton had missed two or three interviews too, which people had also noticed. She wanted to be there today and prove that there was nothing wrong with the band or her and Ashton's relationship, they were all okay and she didn't want people thinking she was unwell.

The fresh air didn't do anything to make her feel better even as she leant so close her head was practically hanging out the window.

Her fingers tapped against her stomach as if she was drumming a little beat to the baby- something Ashton tended to do quite a lot recently and it was something that usually calmed (Y/n) down. It wasn't helping today.

A hot flush spread across her skin until she felt like she was sitting on hot coals and the air creeping through the window felt like flames rather than cool air. Her eyes opened and she pushed forward, one arm still bound around her waist while her other hand reached out and clamped down on the back of Michael's chair in front of her.

Sometimes all she had to do was close her eyes and curl up and her system would recalibrate and settle itself again. (Y/n) wished that would be the case, she wished she could push a button and have her system regulate itself out again because this wasn't fair. This wasn't easy to deal with.

She felt Ashton's hand on her lower back starting to rub soothing circles to try and make her feel better when he watched her slump her temple against her hand. He stuffed his phone back in his pocket and leant to the left to be closer to (Y/n), and so he could look ahead through the windscreen to see whereabouts they were and how long they had left in the car.

Severe morning sickness and a long car journey didn't combine well or give the best outcome. Ashton had been worried that this would be too much for (Y/n), that she still wasn't well enough to be doing this today, but he knew how much it meant to her to try.

"Oh," Shudders rumbled through (Y/n)'s system before she jerked her hand out and grabbed Michael's shoulder with such ferocity she made him jump and almost slam his foot down on the accelerator.

"Pull- pull over, please!" Desperation flooded her tone and she whacked her hand down on the back of his chair so he knew how serious she was.

Her throat tensed, larynx pushing out as her stomach sucked in and that awful, familiar sensation burned throughout her chest and up her throat. She was going to be sick. (Y/n) really didn't want to throw up in Michael's car; she didn't want to get out and be sick on the side of the street either, but she couldn't throw up in her friend's car. That wouldn't be fair on him or the rest of them when they would have to travel the rest of the way in the same vehicle she spewed in.

"Jesus! Okay,"

The car barely made it onto the curb before (Y/n) whipped off her belt and slumped to the left, throwing open the door in time to flop her upper body over the side. Her hand clung to the door to stop herself from falling out of the car, her bum barely on the seat as water spewed past her lips.

The tang of strawberry burned her throat and turned sour on her lips as she coughed, spluttered and heaved until what little of the lolly she managed to keep down, came back up with vengeance.

There was nothing left in her system now.

Tears burned in the corners of her eyes and made her shake and for once she was glad that her coughing stopped her from crying. Ashton had been so happy this morning when he saw her grab that lolly from the freezer before they walked out the front door. He grinned with that look of relief in his eyes that she was having something to line her stomach.

It had been the midwife that suggested ice lollies and ice cream to try because it was a slow release of fluids. (Y/n) could just take little licks and spend a long time eating them to get juice in her system little and often. And it had been working; clearly not today.

Snapping off his belt, Ashton pushed up to his feet, shoulders hunching forward against the roof of the car as he leant over to the left and held onto (Y/n)'s arm. Pulling her back just a little and keeping hold of her so she didn't end up falling out the car.

He could feel Calum hovering close by, both hands gripping (Y/n)'s chair as he leant forward around the seat to try and see if she was alright or needed any help.

Both Michael and Luke had turned around to look behind them, anxious expressions written across their faces.

They had all asked Ashton whether (Y/n) felt well enough to join them today and they had each been worried about her. They didn't want her pushing herself too far or making herself ill to try and do this interview. If she wasn't well no one would begrudge her sitting this one out as well. They would rather be safe than sorry.

"Here," Michael handed a bottle of water behind him towards Ashton who leant forward and held it out in front of (Y/n).

"Babe, you okay?"

A grimace flooded (Y/n)'s face as she swirled the water around her mouth and spat it out. She couldn't help but gag again, coughing even though she hadn't taken a sip to drink.

"Sorry," (Y/n) was relieved when Ashton gently helped reel her back into her seat. Once he knew she was alright and not at risk of throwing up again, he reached over her and pulled the door closed before any bystanders had chance to lean in and take a look or try and snap a photo of (Y/n).

"You don't have to be sorry." Ashton reassured with a measured smile and a burst of anxiety pooling in his eyes as he hovered over her to make sure she was alright.

Reaching around the seat, Calum rested a cautious hand on (Y/n)'s shoulder and gave a light squeeze to try and offer some sense of comfort. They all knew she couldn't help being sick, it wasn't as if she had a hangover or Michael's driving was making her sick, she was ill and she couldn't help that.

Shudders tore through (Y/n)'s frame as she sank back in her seat, knees pulling up towards her stomach that she bound her arms around as if the baby was doing summersaults and she was trying to settle them down. She tried to smile when she felt Ashton buckling her belt for her and kiss her temple before he sank down in his seat again.

"Are you gonna be okay for this? You don't look well." Luke turned in his seat so he could look at the couple while Michael started the car again once (Y/n) nudged his seat with her knee to give him the go ahead to carry on driving.

She took a few deep breaths, but she wasn't sure how to answer that question because she didn't truly know.

(Y/n) wanted to do this, she wanted to be at this interview and join the band just like she had always done. She wanted to be with them and have fun and mess around and talk about the album that they were all proud of. But if she felt like this then there was no point in her doing this interview. She was just going to throw up or feel horrid and curl up and drift off without paying enough attention.

"You can decide once we get there, see how you feel once you're up and moving about, yeah?" Michael turned and snook a quick glance in (Y/n)'s direction and she saw an encouraging smile on his face. There was no need to decide now, she might feel better once she got some fresh air and walked about for a bit.

Or she could feel a whole lot worse. Either way, once they arrived at the studio and got inside, (Y/n) could judge how she felt and let them know what she wanted to do.

With her eyes closed and her arms bound around her middle, (Y/n) curled up as much as she could in her seat.

The slightest wave of comfort overcame her when she felt Ashton reach out to rest his hand on her thigh. And (Y/n) shifted one hand down to confiscate his hand, coiling it towards her middle where she bound his hand and arm along with hers like she was giving herself a hug to try and feel better.

Maybe if she could have a nap, it might make her feel better and settle her stomach somewhat, although (Y/n) doubted it.

She wasn't that lucky.

***

Worry emulated through the four of them as they stared over at the fifth member of their group. Each of them trembling and rattling in their own way as they tried to think of something they could each do to make this situation any better, but they couldn't come up with anything between them.

Did they cancel this interview? Did they all agree and go take (Y/n) home? Did they take her down to the hospital? What were they supposed to do?

"I can't."

A horrible ache was spreading through (Y/n)'s temple in such a way that she was sure this is exactly how Ashton's drum kit would experience if it had feelings of its own. It was as if her body was screaming at her for not having enough to drink, as if it was a personal choice (Y/n) had made rather than a grudge she had to bear.

But it was the shaking in her system and the churning in her stomach that made (Y/n) definite that she couldn't go out on stage. She couldn't go and do an interview on a tv show when she looked like this. Perhaps if it had been a radio interview where no one had to see her and they didn't record them all on video, then (Y/n) might have been able to make it.

She could have sunk down into a chair, curled up into Ashton's side with a headset on and listened and chimed in whenever she could. No one would be any the wiser that she didn't feel well and if the fans heard her voice then they would be satisfied that (Y/n) was joining in with the band and that everything was fine.

If she went out on a tv show looking like this, the fans would blow up social media.

They would all be commenting and making a fuss because no amount of make up could hide (Y/n)'s suffering. They couldn't hide the bags beneath her eyes, the veins clinging to her eyes and pushing up on her hands. No one could hide the wary look on her face, the queasy expression she wore whenever she felt the urge to be sick. There was nothing a make up department could do to liven (Y/n) up or make her look less sickly and more well in herself.

She was a trembling mess, shaking like she was suffering electric shocks, lips back to being sore and chapped. Throat dry and aching, stomach churning and tightening and squeezing. Every now and then she would either cough or toss her head forward to ward off the urge to cough and heave.

There was no question; (Y/n) couldn't join them on stage.

"I can't do it," (Y/n) uttered again with a shake of her head before she flopped down onto the sofa in the back stage room they had been guided into when they arrived.

Her legs felt hollow and weak once she sat down and her head was suddenly too heavy to hold up so she let her head flop backwards so she could try and stare up at her bandmates.

"You need to rest, maybe even a doctor's visit." Luke bound one arm around his chest while he pressed his closed fist against his mouth like he was trying to stop himself from saying anything more. He saw the glares he received from (Y/n) at the mention of a doctor, but she looked worse for wear and it might be safe to get her checked out.

"We can all hang back, tell them something's come up an-"

"No, go, you all need to go." Urgency flooded (Y/n)'s tone and she waved one hand at them before she slumped back on the sofa and tried to take a deep breath.

They were all here now and it didn't make sense for them to cancel, not to mention it would screw with the show if the band cancelled at such short notice. Just because (Y/n) couldn't go, it didn't mean the rest of them couldn't either. (Y/n) didn't want them all to cancel because of her, it wasn't as if she was going anywhere, she would just wait here for them to do the interview.

"You sure you don't mind?"

"You're all here, don't stop because of me."

It almost looked like (Y/n) was going to roll her eyes, but they all gathered quickly enough that she was fighting the urge to close her eyes- or the threat of passing out, they couldn't be sure which.

Ashton wasn't sure what to think or what he should do when he watched (Y/n) turn and curl up on her side on the sofa, bringing her knees up towards her stomach while her arms bound around her waist. She didn't look like she was about to be sick which was some sort of relief, but he didn't like the thought of (Y/n) falling asleep here or passing out backstage.

What if she got worse? No one here would know, they would think she was just suffering from a cold or a bug and had fallen asleep.

But as bad as it was, Ashton knew he had seen (Y/n) suffering a lot worse than this in the previous weeks, and she wasn't as unwell as she had been before. Maybe some rest would do her some good and then they could figure out what to do after the show.

The four of them looked between one another for a few seconds before sighing. They could always cut the interview short if (Y/n) needed them in the meantime.

Pusing forward, Ashton leant over the sofa with one hand braced on the back to support himself and his other hand tangling in (Y/n)'s hair.

His lips pressed a soft, sweet kiss to her temple that thankfully wasn't flushed or radiating heat, so he knew she wasn't feeling too bad just yet. "If you need me, tell someone to come get me. Promise?"

"Promise."

It didn't feel right, just the four of them wedged together on the sofa. They felt like a well oiled machine that was missing a vital part.

It didn't matter how many interviews or podcasts or silly band videos they did together without (Y/n) during the last two to three months, it still didn't feel right without her here. It wasn't something any of them could get used to and it was unnerving, like they were constantly making mistakes because they weren't truly comfortable without all of them here supporting one another.

But this was the best that they could do in this situation, they had to do what they could, and (Y/n) had been right. Cancelling an interview this short notice wouldn't be fair, and they were all here in the studio. (Y/n) couldn't help being ill and the least the rest of them could do was to carry on as normal and continue promoting the upcoming album until (Y/n) was well enough to join them again.

"Great to have you guys back… but I think we're one down. I count four." With a laugh, their interviewer, James, leant forward in his seat and pointed along each of them to make his point.

There was a vital part missing; only four out of the Five Seconds of Summer were here.

Three of them resisted the urge to look down at Ashton on the other end of the plush red sofa they had wedged themselves into. They didn't want to make him answer every question that came up about (Y/n) and they didn't want to look like they had no idea what was going on or as if they were covering something up.

It felt strange to be shielding part of their lives like this when they had grown so accustomed to allowing people- whether that be celebrities, interviewers, pod casts or just the fans- to be transparent with their lives and see into their every day worlds. To be covering their lives now felt like they were going against the nature they developed because it was easier.

Fans seemed to have a way of finding out about their lives whether they told them or not, so it seemed easier to just let them know everything.

But that wasn't what Ashton and (Y/n) wanted this time. They didn't want the constant questions, probing for information, the concern and the media wave that would light up if people found out they were having a baby. They wanted this part of their lives to be kept under wraps until (Y/n) felt better and they knew she and the baby were definitely okay and in no danger.

And they had agreed that they didn't want this to overshadow the new album, they didn't want interviews becoming all about the baby rather than their new music that all five of them had worked so hard on.

"(Y/n)'s backstage, she doesn't feel great so she's decided to hang back." Calum's voice was unnaturally calm and he made a passing motion to point behind him towards the backstage area.

No doubt James had been told when the band had arrived for this interview slot and he would have known (Y/n) was here. Perhaps he thought they were pranking him when they first came on stage without (Y/n). And they weren't lying to him, (Y/n) was here because she wanted to be, but she just couldn't come out on stage at the last moment.

"Oh, that's a shame."

"She wanted to be here, she pushed herself to come down today but she didn't think you'd appreciate it if she ended up being sick on stage." Ashton managed a smile as he motioned from the sofa to the floor.

This was a popular show, therefore the set was stylish and more adapt than a simple platform with a few chairs.

The whole room was expansive with a stage for the interview and a further stage for when guests got to perform and then another area for creating and playing games and different gag reels. The sofa the band were sitting on looked expensive and there were rugs and carpets lining the stage floor.

It made Ashton wonder what they would do if a guest did throw up, if they had a designated crew to sort it or if the cleaning staff had to adapt to cleaning the stage. Either way, it wouldn't be the best thing if (Y/n) did come out and ended up being sick here.

There were a few laughs, one quick question that tricked them into believing the topic had shifted away from (Y/n). And then the spotlight was right back on her and her absence.

"Is everything okay with (Y/n)? I believe she wasn't at the last interview you guys did… and she was in hospital a few weeks ago, wasn't she?"

Ashton bristled in his seat the moment a flash of colour caught the corner of his peripheral vision. His body tensed up, the hairs on his skin prickling and standing on end as he refused to turn his head and look at the large screen just to the left of him.

He already knew the cameras would be focusing in on that screen and he didn't need to look to know what they were showing up there.

It was the pictures the paparazzi took of Ashton guiding (Y/n) into the emergency room last month. Those pictures had flooded the internet the next day, but as soon as fans started speculating and questioning what had happened and if (Y/n) was alright, the band shut them down.

All of them had commented and used the official 5sos account to ask people not to make so many comments and beg to know what was going on. They each asked for privacy and made it clear that (Y/n) was fine, even if it was no one else's business.

Why should a hospital visit be the news of the world? Why should others need to know what was going on with (Y/n)? Why was that any of their business? She didn't owe anyone an explanation.

"You can't believe everything you read online."

There was a rather deflated tone to Luke's voice, like he knew they were fighting an uphill battle because he knew the way the world worked. They were in the media, they were in the public eye and they were people of interest, therefore anything they did would be scrutinised and taken to the next level. And if fans thought they were ill, then they were bound to question it and become sleuths to find out what was happening.

When he crossed one leg over the other, Luke slowly nudged his boot into Ashton's knee. Not enough to catch anyone else's attention, but just enough to try and give Ashton a silent marker to stay calm and silently ask if he was alright.

"That is you guys though Ashton, right? She looks pretty ill, this hit the news as soon as people saw the photos."

"You say that to all your guests on the show?" It was clear Ashton was trying to make a joke, but his tone was a lot harsher than he anticipated and even he winced.

For once he was glad (Y/n) was backstage because that would be a pretty rude thing to say to someone, commenting on how they looked and saying they looked ill. Because for all James knew, (Y/n) had just had a fall and hurt herself. The way she looked or how drowsy and unwell she seemed could have had nothing at all to do with why she had been at the hospital.

His head turned to the left just a centimetre before he chided himself and looked back at James so he didn't sit and stare at those photos.

They irritated Ashton as soon as they splashed across the internet. He knew they would, he knew when he saw those cameras flashing that the pictures would be everywhere, but seeing them had really riled him up. He had been one click away from making a post about how rude and cruel it was to follow people to the hospital and snap photos of them, when the rest of the band had already commented those very things for him.

"Yeah, I mean come on, the pap followed their car to the hospital and snapped pictures when she was throwing up, who does that? Do they want photos of me hunched over the toilet with food poisoning?" Michael scoffed as he crossed his arms over his chest and slouched down into the sofa.

He didn't want to think what he would have done in Ashton's place if he caught them trying to take pictures of him or his partner when either of them weren't well. It just wasn't necessary and it was cruel. And it was clear from the angle and distance of the photos that the paparazzi hadn't gotten too close to the couple, clearly they knew what they were doing was wrong and didn't want to get close enough to be told what kind of idiots they were being.

From the expression on James's face, it looked like he was taking those things into account and listening to them. But this was clearly a moment to fish for information, that was why he brought those photos up in the first place.

"I think people are worried about her, that's all."

"That's our job to worry about her." Ashton's voice thawed out just a little and his demeanour relaxed the moment the screen beside him went back to a blend of white and turquoise background.

"It isn't fun getting over a bad sickness and having rumours and pictures of yourself spread all over the internet. I mean, she came all the way here to promote the band and try and shut down those rumours, that shows how determined she is and that she's clearly not that ill. Right?"

“what? what’s happening?” amanda said, eyes wide with sudden panic.

“i’m allergic to hazelnuts,” you said plainly, standing from your stool and placing your hands on the table. “so, i’m gonna go meet spencer and i have to go to the hospital after the epipen is administered.” everyone stared at you with dropped jaws and panicked expressions and stances.

“i am so sorry!” garrett gasped. “i had no clue, or i would’ve given a warning!” his hands covered his mouth as he shook his head. “that’s no excuse, i should’ve warned anyway. i’m so sorry.”

“it's alright, you had no idea,” you waved. you looked around at your castmates and directors. “this has been fun—i don’t wanna die on the smosh stage.” shayne laughed out in shock.

“yes! leave! right now!”

you waved before sprinting offstage.

they all stared after you in shock.

“like, what do we-“ courtney took a breath, looking to the producers. “do we keep going? what- what just happened?"

….

a week after the incident, you were worlds better than you were that day. after getting doted on by your loving friends and assuring them that you were alright, things were mostly back to normal in the smoffice.

your allergy was a complete surprise to the entire office, and you knew that. you weren't super active on social medias or super open about your personal life--it took over a year for them to even figure out you were crushing spencer before you two started dating (who always likes to tell people he knew all along, when he really didn't). it wasn't that you were uncomfortable sharing, it was simply that you didn't talk about yourself often. it wasn't a privacy or a shy thing, it was just.. you.

and so at the beginning of the week, amanda and shayne practically begged you to come onto smosh mouth and talk about yourself some more with them, for both the audience and for their sakes. you found you couldn't say no to them.

“y/n, let’s just talk about you for a second,” shayne said. you smiled as amanda clapped and cheered for you. you weren't even ten minutes into the podcast yet. “one of our newer cast members, you’ve been here for two years now..?”

“almost,” you smiled. "time flies when you're having fun they say."

“but tell us some things about you, y/n,” amanda smiled. “the fans have loved you since your first appearance, but you’re super private.” you shrugged. “like don't-even-have-tiktok-private." you giggled at that. "tell us some secrets that the fans don’t know.”

“well, i like long walks on the beach,” you sighed and they laughed. you smiled. “but for real..” you talked briefly about some of your interests and hobbies as shayne and amanda smiled and commentated. “oh, and i’m allergic to hazelnuts.”

“YES,” shayne spoke seriously. “oh my god, did we find that out in the most horrifying way possible.”

“i mean it when i say we were shitting bricks when you left that shoot, y/n,” amanda spoke with wide eyes as you giggled with slight embarrassment.

“let me say, everyone was so incredibly sweet,” you grinned. “like, you all checking in on me and making sure i was okay after the fact was so kind and i appreciated it so much. everyone showed so much care, garrett even brought me new cookies the next day with no hazelnuts.”

“yeah, ian also enacted the no-hazelnuts act of 2025,” amanda nodded, making you both laugh. “the kitchen has a new sign for it!”

you affirmed, “this is true.”

“so for those who don’t know,” shayne began, “the eat or yeet video has definitely aired by the time this will air, but there is a part where y/n and i drew the short straws to eat some cookies.” you nodded. “she ended up getting the normal one and i ate this absolutely disgusting meat cookie-”

“vile,” amanda agreed, shaking her head.

“absolutely,” shayne continued, “but y/n said she was tasting something.. weird?” he looked to you.

“yeah,” you sighed, smiling sheepishly. “i.. still don’t know what hazelnut tastes like, garrett said there was hazelnut in that cookie when he revealed it—all i had was, like, a burning sensation in my mouth at that point.” they laughed out in surprise, shayne offering a ‘wow’.

“i want you all to know, y/n had the calmest reaction to anaphylaxis i’ve ever seen in my life,” amanda declared, eyes still wide. “i don’t know if it made it into the video, i haven’t seen the edit, but after garrett said there was hazelnut she just, very calmly, turned to spencer next to her and told him where to get her epipen.” you laughed, cheeks burning at the memory.

“first, she told all of us not to freak out!” shayne added. “she said, ‘no one freak out!’, and then told us she had to go to the hospital.” you and amanda laughed. “like, i have never been around someone having an allergic reaction, but i expected more panic! more running, more urgency!”

you laughed again, hand covering your face for a moment before speaking, “yeah, that’s not my first time almost going into anaphylaxis. i just knew that if i had panicked, you all were going to panic, and that would’ve made it worse for me.” they nodded. "like, i may not have been able to get to hospital as quickly as i did."

“right.”

“but i want you all to know, spencer was the one who drove me, and he was freaking out the entire way,” you chuckled. “like, i stuck myself with the epipen, we got into his car and he’s, like, shaking.”

“oh, well, yeah!” amanda nodded. “that’s scary! your calm would’ve also freaked me out!” you laughed.

“i remember, i asked him if he was okay,” you smiled. “and he was like, ‘i-i’m okay, are you okay? that was- no, you’re not okay, we need to go.’” they laughed through your impression of spencer’s panic. “i felt so bad roping him into it, he was just the one sitting next to me in the shoot.”

“well, i bet- and we’ll have to cut this,” amanda said, looking to the producers. “i bet he was thankful he was the one who took you. if it had been my husband, or it had been courtney," she waved a hand to shayne, who nodded, "we would've wanted to be there with our partner."

you nodded, “oh, for sure. he would’ve just been pacing on set if he wasn’t pacing in the hospital. but he was so incredibly sweet, he stayed with me and was by my side as soon as i was treated. but he was infinitely more freaked out than i was.”

“but you’ve been through it before,” shayne offered.

“yeah, i have,” you nodded. “i knew how it goes and that i’d be fine as long as i got to the hospital, but spencer had never seen anything like that. he was so worried even after we left the hospital, he even offered to buy me a new epipen for my desk.” amanda ‘aww’ed. “which is sweet! but then i had to break the news that you have to have a prescription for that.” they both laughed. “but the thought was very sweet!”

“yeah, i don’t know if they kept the whole moment in or what, but there’s definitely a change from when you and spencer were there to when we pulled trevor and arasha out of the hallway to finish the video,” shayne chuckled. you laughed.

“i told them i didn’t mind if they kept it in,” you shrugged. you raised a fist. “hazelnut allergy awareness!” they laughed.

“so hazelnuts are spicy, you say? that’s the verdict?” shayne chuckled. you laughed again.

“all i know,” you said, gently dropping a hand to the table, “is that spencer agnew is sweeter than hazelnuts.” everyone ‘aww’ed. “and hotter, too.” they laughed out their surprise.

“okay, well, we do have the cut that.”

…

when you went to your boyfriend’s that night, you were smiling with the memories of talking about your experience on eat it or yeet it. though it had been scary, and you had been melting down on the inside, the care and love shown for you by your friends during and after the fact was sweet enough for you to almost forget the threatening aspect of it.

spencer greeted you with a kiss when he answered the door. “how was smosh mouth?” he asked as you kicked off your shoes. instead of answering, you just leaned in and pressed a longer, deeper kiss to his lips. he placed his hands on your waist before you pulled away. “wow. that good?”

you laughed. “we talked about my reaction on eat it or yeet it last week.” you shrugged as he gave you a half-grimace. “just got to talk about how great you were through it.”

“really?” he scoffed playfully, raising an eyebrow. “me freaking out worse than you were the entire time was great?” you giggled, placing a hand on his cheek.

“your care for me was wonderful,” you assured with a smile. “you were freaking out, but it was because you wanted to help and you wanted me to be okay. that was incredibly sweet, dear.”

“well, yeah,” he shrugged, cheeks going red at your sweet gushing. “who else is gonna bring me kickstarts and lose every board game?” you whacked his chest and pulled away from him before he could tighten his grasp. “i was kidding! joking! i meant, who else is gonna love me unconditionally and be so beautiful every day and tolerate me!”

The room was dark, the only light coming from the movie playing on the tv. It had been quiet between them for a while, but not uncomfortably. Sitting on opposite ends of the couch, y/n had her head propped up on her hand, barely paying attention. Her head tilted a little, gaze turning to Damien.

He looked relaxed and at ease, finding enjoyment out of the film they were watching. His dimpled smiles and occasional giggles, and that amused look in his eyes were adorable.

She felt guilty, because she wanted to move closer to him. She wanted to lie down and cuddle with him and rest her head on his chest and lean into his forehead kisses. But she was afraid that she'd always be terrified to do that with anyone. Even if it was Damien, someone who had been nothing but lovely to her.

Something so small as holding his hand had been hard for her, and she had no idea why. She knew it felt weird, though.

It wasn't until he looked back at her that she realised how long she'd been staring at him.

"You okay, darling?". He asked, voice soft in the dark.

She hums. "Yeah... yeah. I was just thinking."

He looked at her properly, more interested in what she had to say than the movie.

"About what?".

She sighed quietly, wondering if she should even bring it up, or just leave it.

"I... it's nothing."

Sitting up, he reached for the tv remote and paused the movie before turning towards her again.

"Well, if something's bothering you I'd like to know."

Damien was probably the sweetest, most caring person she'd been with. She could feel herself falling hard for him, and it had only been six months. But that came with its own challenges, for her personally. She simply wasn't used to it.

Sensing her hesitation, he moved a little closer but was careful not to cross a boundary.

"Hey, you know you can tell me anything. Right?".

She nodded, picking at her nails. "I know. It's not that, I just... does it bother you that I don't, like touch you? Or that I'm not physically affectionate with you?".

"No, of course not. Why would you think that?".

She frowned, rubbing her arm. "I think there's something wrong with me."

"What? There's nothing wrong with you, sweetheart."

"Damien, do you not think it's messed up that I can't hug you or hold your hand, even if I wanted to? There's nothing stopping me, but it's hard for me and I don't know why."

His expression softened, but he shook his head. "I don't think it's messed up. You don't like to be touched, and I don't blame you. Everyone's different, it doesn't make it a bad thing. So please don't be too hard on yourself. I don't mind."

"But I want to try."

"You do?".

She nodded. "I just... don't know how."

"Okay, well let's talk about it."

"It's hard to explain."

He smiled softly. "That's okay. We can figure it out together. But you have to talk to me first."

She looked at him and sighed, unsure of how or where to start.

"Okay." He mumbled. "Can I ask you something?".

She nodded.

"What is it about physical touch that deters you from giving or receiving it? Is it a germ thing?".

"It's not a germ thing. I think... like, the want is there. But something stops me."

He tilted his head. "What do you think that is?".

"I think I'm afraid of doing something wrong. Maybe you won't accept it, or... if you touch me it won't feel right. I mean, in my head physical touch always means it has to be sexual and that scares me a little."

His expression softened.

"Y/n, physical touch can be so much more than that. You know that, right?".

"Well, yeah... I do, but it's like my brain just interprets it that way, and it's hard for me to separate the two."

He hums, hazel eyes softening at the edges. "You know, it took me a long time to be comfortable with it too."

"Really?".

"Yeah, when I was a kid I hated physical touch."

"What changed?".

He smiled slightly. "Well, I learned that it's okay to say no. I never felt pressured to give anyone a hug, so I think that helped soften it later on with my own relationships. Sometimes I still feel that way, and really don't want to be touched. But... I communicate that."

"That makes sense. I think when I was a kid, I was kinda forced to give people hugs because in my family it was seen as rude if you didn't. I always found it hard, and then later on I found out that people can touch in other ways and I didn't understand the difference between a normal touch and a sexual touch. I guess it just freaked me out."

"It's understandable." He replied. "Do you think if we practiced physical touch in a non-sexual way, it would help?".

"Maybe. But... the thought of it also kinda makes me want to die."

He chuckled. "We'll start small, and build up from there. But I need you to talk to me. What feels okay and what doesn't. Saying no when you don't feel like it. It's really important that you do that, for both of our benefit. So you feel safe and comfortable, and so I don't freak out if I do make you uncomfortable."

"Okay." She nodded. "But I don't think that'll happen, Damien. I'm more than comfortable with you."

He smiled. "I know, darling. But this is going to be different, and it'll feel scary and weird and confusing and overwhelming for you. Even though you trust me and are comfortable with me. But we'll work through whatever you're feeling together."

Damien waited a couple of weeks instead of jumping straight in the next day, before initiating any kind of physical affection. He knew it had to be him that started it at first, but he didn't do anything until she told him it was okay. And it was only small things. Like brushing his hand against hers for a second while walking.

The first time he did it, it caught her off guard. Even though she was expecting it because he had told her that he was going to do it. But it was still surprising when it happened.

His hand didn't linger, but hers twitched a little in response to his fleeting touch. She looked at him and he smiled at her.

"Too much?".

She shook her head. "Not too much. Just... confusing."

"Okay, talk to me about it."

It took a little over a month to get used to the little fleeting touches. He never did anything more and if she said no, he didn't do it at all.

But whenever he stopped, she did start to miss it a little.

It wasn't easy. Sometimes it was, and sometimes she had to take a moment to herself. Communicating when she wasn't used to doing it was stressful. Truthfully, she'd never been good at talking about how she felt. It was a miracle she even admitted her feelings for him in the first place.

One night, y/n found herself in the bathroom. She had intended to brush her teeth, and did complete that task. But her hands trembled and her legs felt like jelly, and she had to sit on the floor. Hot tears started streaming down her cheeks before she could stop them.

She tried wiping her eyes to no avail, and just let out a quiet sob.

It felt like hours before she calmed down. When her tears reduced to sniffles, she heard a gentle knock on the door.

"Y/n, you've been in there for a while now. Is everything okay?".

"Y-Yeah." Her voice was quiet and raspy, which concerned him.

"Can I come in, love?".

He heard a little "okay." and opened the door. His expression softened when he saw her.

He knelt in front of her, not too close. "Hey, hey. What happened? Are you alright?".

She shrugged. "I don't know."

With a frown, he fully sat on his knees. "Okay, remember when I said you have to talk to me? This is one of those times."

"Damien." She sniffled.

"Yes, darling?".

"Can you- just... hold me?".

He blinked and his expression fell, hesitating only for a second because he was unsure if he misheard her or she was just saying that because she didn't know what else to do.

"What?".

She looked at him, eyes watery. "Please?".

She started crying again, prompting him to move closer to her without hesitation. Sitting beside her, he put his arms around her and pulled her into his chest.

"Shh, you're okay." He muttered as she tucked her head under his chin, resting on his chest as more tears fell down her cheeks.

He held himself back from wiping them with his thumbs, only doing what she asked him to do, avoiding overwhelming her further.

"I thought you were going to yell at me." She admitted through tears.

"Oh... no, no. I'm not gonna yell at you, darling. Of course not."

His hand stroked the back of her head soothingly. "I don't do that. I promise, you'll never have to worry about that."

Eventually, he managed to calm her down and she moved her head from his chest to his shoulder. She was almost on his lap, which was new, but she didn't pull away. She just accepted where she was.

"Y/n, please talk to me." He muttered.

"I just feel like... I'm doing everything wrong. I don't feel good enough for you because you're doing all this to make me feel comfortable and I don't deserve it. It's frustrating when I want to touch you, but can't."

"Hey." He gently made her look at him. "Look what you're doing now, love."

"I... I know. But it still feels wrong."

He tilted his head. "What's wrong?".

"Well...". Her voice trailed off as she realised nothing.

He smiled softly. "Listen, I know that this isn't gonna happen again for a while. But it's a start, and now we know that you need physical touch in distress, you can handle it when you just want it."

"That's true, I guess."

"Trust me when I say you deserve this. You're facing a fear, y/n. That's a big deal, and the fact that you trust me enough to help you through it speaks for itself."

She smiled, nodding. "Okay."

"Have you had enough of this yet?". He asked, well aware that she could be getting uncomfortable and not telling him.

"No." She replied. "Can we stay like this a little longer?".

"Of course." He chuckled. "Are you liking it?".

She nodded, prompting him to tighten his grip on her. But he still left room for her to move away if she needed to.

"Yeah, I don't know what's happening either."

He smiled. "It's okay. I'm not going anywhere unless you tell me to."

"Thank you." She sighed, burying her face into his collarbone. They stayed there for a while, sitting on the bathroom floor. But for the first time, she felt content just being in his arms.

Damien had been right, though. It was still overwhelming, and y/n found that she didn't want his touch the next day. Or the day after that. Or the day after that. And he didn't mind.

When she finally started craving it again, she was hesitant to ask or talk about it. She didn't want him to hold her or anything this time, but she did start doing a new thing; holding the end of his sleeve. It was a little bit of a compromise, a way for her to touch him without touching him. The first time she did it and he realised why she was doing it, it melted his heart.

The sleeve holding slowly evolved into holding his finger. He never said a thing, never put any pressure on it, never gripped her finger back. It was her thing that seemed to soothe her and make her feel comfortable, he didn't want to make it a 'them' thing.

Then, while walking in the park, he caught her trying to fully slip her hand into his.

He paused, looking back at her and tilting his head. She swallowed thickly, glancing at his hand.

"Hey." He said softly. "You don't have to if you're not ready. It's okay."

"I want to."

His eyebrows shot up. "You want to hold my hand?".

She nodded. "Yes."

"Okay." He smiled, holding his hand out. After about three seconds, she took it and he gently linked their fingers together. She smiled shyly, squeezing softly.

"Not so bad?". He hums.

"It's... nice."

Pulling her a little closer, he kissed her forehead. "I'm so proud of you, y/n."

That night when they went to bed, she slept a little closer to him than usual.

They handled it together. There were ups and downs, of course. Some days y/n clung to him like a koala bear, other days it seemed like she didn't want anything to do with him. He knew it wasn't that, though. He was learning her cues and body language, and somehow just knew when she didn't want his touch. But he was okay with it. He was okay with all of it, even the meltdowns in the middle of the night. Which there had been a few of now. Mostly due to waking up in a panic because she was actually touching someone.

He was there through it all though. She couldn't believe it. How he hadn't given up on her yet she'd never know.

"Damien."

"Yeah, love?".

"Can we cuddle?".

He sat up to look at her. "Are you sure?".

"Yeah."

He tilted his head. "Any particular reason?".

"No, just... feel like it."

Shifting to lie down, he made himself comfortable, then motioned for her to move closer. She did, he noticed, with little hesitation. Lying down with him, she sank into his arms and rested her head on his chest. When she was comfortable, he kissed her head.

"You okay?". He checked.

She nodded, letting out a sigh of content, making him smile softly.

"I love you, y/n." He said, feeling like it was the right time to say it for the first time.

"Really?".

"Of course, I do." He replied softly. "But please don't feel pressured to say it right now. I just want you to know."

She smiled, closing her eyes. "I love you too, Damien."

Chuckling in amusement, he nodded. "Okay, darling."

"Are you falling asleep?".

"Maybe."

"It's okay if you do."

Tilting her head up, she looked up at him with tired eyes. "It is?".

He nodded like it was the simplest thing in the world. "I've got you. You can sleep if you want to."

I've got you. What a wonderful thing to hear knowing he meant it.

She fell asleep in his arms, laying on his chest. Even though it wasn't that late. It was just out of pure comfort, warmth and security from him.

The softness of the moment seeped into him and he fell asleep soon after she did.

When she woke up, she didn't panic. For a few minutes, she just stayed where she was, happy to be so close to him. She felt the rise and fall of each of his steady breaths. He was still sleeping. She just looked at him. He looked so peaceful, and it seemed like he appreciated the closeness as much as she did.

"You're staring." He muttered, shifting to lie on his side, facing her.

Her cheeks turned a light shade of pink. "Sorry, I thought you were asleep."

"I was." He chuckled, finally opening his eyes to look at her. "It's okay."

He instinctively kissed her shoulder and collarbone. She wasn't opposed to it. It was only for a second and his lips were soft.

"Good morning, love."

"Morning."

"I'm surprised to see you're still here."

"So am I." She smiled bashfully.

She sighed quietly, feeling conflicted. She wasn't sure if she wanted away or wanted him to pull her closer. But he saw the look on her face and his expression softened.

"You had enough?".

She nodded.

"Okay." Shifting over, he let her get up and she didn't fully pull away. But she created some space for herself, which he respected by not touching her unless she initiated it.

"Damien, you know it's not you that I have issues with. Right?".

"No, I know that, darling."

"Does it upset you when I pull away?".

He shook his head. "Not in the slightest. I would much rather you do that than stay and feel uncomfortable."

"Really?".

"I promise."

_

In her own apartment, a few weeks later, y/n was lying on the floor in the living room. Not for any particular reason, but sometimes it helped ground her when she was disassociating. Staring at the ceiling she just thought about Damien and how good he'd been to her. It had been a while since she'd felt like this for anyone. But it was nice knowing that she was in a relationship with someone who was emotionally mature, and seemed to know how to bring that out of her too.

She was getting better at communicating with him, maybe not always telling him how she was feeling. Something he had been getting her to do was call him whenever she thought of something she wanted to tell him. It was small and mundane, but those conversations often led to deeper ones, and in doing so, they both learned a lot more about each other.

She now got excited to tell him things, and he always answered.

Sitting up, she grabbed her phone and called him.

Pressing the phone to her ear, she waited. She wasn't waiting for long. He answered within seconds as always.

"Hello, darling."

"Hi." She replied quietly.

"How are you?".

"I'm good."

"Good... is everything okay?".

"Damien."

"Mhm?".

"I don't want to talk." She sighed.

"Oh... okay. That's fine. What do you want to do?".

"Nothing. I just felt like calling you, but I don't want to talk about anything."

"That's okay. You don't have to. Do you want me to come over?".

"No, thank you." She replied quietly.

"Alright. Would you like me to talk?".

"Can you stay on the phone until I fall asleep?".

"Of course I can, darling."

Getting up from the floor, she moved to the couch and grabbed a blanket before making herself comfy. Resting her head on a cushion, she let out a sigh.

For a while, she just listened to him talk about his day. It wasn't anything she had to pay much attention to, the tone of his voice was comforting enough it almost didn't matter what he was saying. And he seemed to pick up on that, choosing to stick to simple topics and intentionally avoiding rants about specific things. He knew that wasn't what she needed.

"Dames...".

"Mhm?".

"I know I'm not good at telling you how I feel. But... sometimes it's nice just to not say anything."

"I agree."

She sighed quietly. "If I asked you to come over now, what would you say?".

He chuckled softly. "I'm already grabbing my keys, love."

A tiny smile appeared on her face. "How did you know?".

"I could just feel it coming."

She giggled. "Thank you, Damien."

"I won't be long."

She fell asleep in his arms that night, and it was quickly becoming her favourite place to be.

It wasn't every day, and it wasn't all at once. But eventually Damien's touch became something she couldn't live without.

_______

General

@justalilstupif

@surebutwhy

@lostdragonqueen13

@liahisstrange

@burrowedinnature77

@chosenswift616

@rosescxrner

@visenchanted05

@snowflakemoon3

@warilysolarhorizon

@onetoomanyfichusbands

@alex--awesome--22

@burrowedinnature77

@65percentleg

@yeah-i-tend-to-write

Damien

@4ria790

For a second, you thought maybe someone had forgotten to turn off a lamp. But as you leaned closer, peeking past the railing, you spotted him.

Ian.

He was hunched over one of the tables, a laptop open in front of him, scattered papers framing his figure like a halo of clutter. The glow of the desk lamp softened his profile — a mix of concentration and exhaustion — and you caught yourself smiling before you could stop it.

Quietly, you stepped onto the floor. “Hey,” you called gently, not wanting to startle him.

He turned almost instantly, those familiar blue eyes finding yours. “Hey, doll.” The nickname rolled out so naturally, like he hadn’t even thought about it. “What are you doing here so late?”

You walked up to him, resting a hand on the back of his chair, close enough to see the tired lines around his eyes. “That’s my question. What are you doing here?”

Ian leaned back slightly, shoulders loosening as he looked up at you. “Just working on an upcoming project. Something new. You know me, I get caught up.”

“You always do,” you teased lightly, letting your hand brush against his shoulder as you circled the chair.

He tilted his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Shouldn’t you be heading home? It’s really late.”

“I was about to,” you admitted, sliding onto the edge of the table so you were sitting face-to-face with him. “But if you’re still working, maybe you could use some help?”

Ian shook his head, chuckling softly. “Oh no, it's fine. You’ve done enough today. I can handle it.”

You crossed your arms, leaning closer with a playful challenge in your eyes. “I don’t have anything very interesting to do at home. Besides… I want to help.”

Something flickered across his expression — warmth, gratitude, something unspoken — before he gave in with a sigh. “Alright. If you insist.”

-

The next hour slipped by in a blur. The two of you went through draft notes, tossing ideas back and forth. What should’ve been tedious work felt strangely effortless; every time you suggested something, Ian’s face lit up as if you’d voiced the exact thought he hadn’t yet put into words.

At one point, he laughed so hard he had to set his pen down, shaking his head. “God, we’re dangerous together. If we actually combined all our ideas, the internet wouldn’t know what hit it.”

You laughed too, unable to stop watching the way his smile reached his eyes. Dangerous was right.

Eventually, Ian leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms high above his head with a groan. His t-shirt rode up slightly, revealing a sliver of skin before he dropped his arms with a sigh. “Really, it’s a good thing you stayed. I probably wouldn’t have finished this on my own.”

You smiled, swinging your legs idly from your spot on the table. “Oh, it’s nothing. I actually enjoyed helping. Especially you.”

The words slipped out before you realized how they sounded. But Ian didn’t laugh it off. He didn’t brush it aside. Instead, he froze for a second, his eyes finding yours in the low light.

And suddenly, the room shifted.

The hum of the lamp, the quiet of the building, the closeness between you — everything condensed into that single moment where neither of you looked away.

Before you could think, Ian moved closer. One hand found your waist as he stepped between your knees, and then his mouth was on yours.

The kiss was warm, certain, and it knocked the air from your lungs. Instinctively, you kissed him back, your hands reaching for his shoulders, pulling him closer. For a few precious seconds, you forgot everything else.

But then, reality crashed in, and you broke the kiss, your forehead still brushing his. “Ian… no. That’s not right.”

His brows furrowed, confusion flashing across his face. “What do you mean?”

“You’re my boss,” you whispered, though your heart was racing, your lips still tingling from the kiss. “If we… if this happens, it could mess everything up.”

For a moment, silence hung heavy between you. Then Ian shook his head, his voice low but firm. “No. It won’t. None of that will happen.”

You looked into his eyes, searching for hesitation, but found only determination.

“I’ve felt this for months,” he admitted, his hand still steady on your waist. “And I know you feel it too. The way you look at me, the way we are together — it’s not just work. It’s us.”

Your breath caught, and when he leaned in again, you didn’t resist. This time, the kiss was deeper, hungrier. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer, and he responded instantly, his hands roaming your back, your sides, like he’d been waiting for this moment all along.

You laughed against his lips, a mix of relief and thrill, before whispering mischievously, “Take me to the sofa in the study.”

Ian pulled back just enough to see the glint in your eyes, his own smile spreading, warm and boyish but tinged with something more. “You’re trouble,” he murmured, brushing his thumb across your cheek.

“Only with you,” you shot back, your heart pounding with anticipation.

Still holding your hand, Ian led you out of the writer’s floor, down the dim hallway, toward the study. His pace was quick, like he was afraid the moment would slip away if he didn’t grab hold of it.

When the two of you reached the study, the shadows stretched long across the room, and the old sofa sat waiting in the corner like it had been expecting you. Ian turned to you, eyes soft but burning, and pulled you close again, sealing his mouth to yours as the rest of the world fell away.

The papers, the work, the roles you played — none of it mattered anymore. Only this did.

And in that quiet, after-hours glow, you finally gave in to what had been inevitable all along.

Your fingers found their way into his hair, tugging gently, and the soft groan that escaped his throat made your stomach flip. He deepened the kiss in response, one hand sliding from your waist to your hip, anchoring you firmly against him.

“Ian,” you whispered between kisses, voice shaky but charged, “this is insane.”

He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, his pupils dark and blown wide. “No,” he murmured, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip, “this is inevitable.”

The honesty in his tone made your chest tighten. Every glance you’d shared across meeting tables, every late-night laugh, every lingering touch suddenly fit together like pieces of a puzzle you’d both been too afraid to solve.

His lips trailed along your jaw, down to the curve of your neck, each brush of his mouth sending shivers down your spine. You tilted your head back instinctively, granting him more, and his arm tightened around your waist in response.

“I’ve wanted you like this for so long,” he confessed against your skin, his words vibrating through you, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

Your hands slid down his back, feeling the tension in his muscles as if he were holding himself together by a thread. “Then don’t stop,” you breathed, the admission tumbling out before you could second-guess it.

He pulled you closer, so close you could feel every line of him against you. His hand traced up your side, pausing just beneath your ribs, fingertips grazing the edge of your shirt. It wasn’t hurried — it was reverent, like he was memorizing every inch of you.

The kisses grew hungrier, the air between you hot and unsteady. You tangled your legs with his, pulling him closer still, the heat of his body overwhelming and grounding all at once. The sofa creaked softly, an intimate soundtrack to the moment unraveling around you.

Your breath caught when his lips found your ear. “Tell me you feel it too,” he whispered, voice low, desperate.

You clutched him tighter, answering not with words but by pulling his mouth back to yours, kissing him like there would be no tomorrow.

Everything fade to black.

It’s unlikely that anyone from work would be calling them. After all, they're both in the building, shooting a video. Anyone needing to reach them would know this and would have come straight to the set. 

Which means it’s highly probable that you’re the reason they’ve both received numerous texts and missed calls. The two of them share a concerned look, and that’s when the others catch up. 

It had been a bit of drama when you started dating Spencer. As Ian’s little sister, everyone at Smosh had always thought you would be off limits. But you didn’t believe in that rule. So what if he worked for your brother? He was cute, funny, kind. So you went after what, or rather who, you wanted. 

Spencer himself was unsure at first. You completely understood why he was concerned. After all, your big brother was the boss, and employees tend to avoid dating the boss’s sister. But eventually, it all worked out. 

Ian and Spencer have always been good coworkers, and then friends, and now, they have this new relationship: potential future in-laws.

One thing they definitely have in common: they both care about you deeply, and love you. So when Ian’s phone rings again from an unknown number in Los Angeles he quickly picks up. 

“Hello?” He asks, standing up and walking off set. No one follows as he steps out of earshot, not even Spencer. He’s unsure if he’s giving Ian privacy, or if he’s so anxious that he’s frozen to the spot. 

“Hello. I’m calling for Ian Hecox,” The woman on the phone states. 

“This is he,” Ian replies. 

“I am calling from Los Angeles Regional Hospital. We have a patient here named Y/N Hecox and you’re listed as her emergency contact-”

“Is she okay?” He asks, his voice full of worry.

“She was in a car accident earlier this afternoon. She’s currently in our Emergency Department being triaged. Unfortunately I don’t have more detailed information at this time.”

“Ok thank you. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

After hanging up, Ian looks at all the other notifications on his phone. He has missed calls from you, but no voicemails. You’d texted as well, but it was practically gibberish. He walks back to where the others are and sees Spencer still seated, looking through his phone. 

“Have you gotten anything from Y/N?” Ian asks him. 

“Nothing that makes any sense,” Spencer replies. “What’s wrong?”

“She was in an accident. I just got a call from the hospital.”

“Is-is she okay?” Spencer stutters out. 

“They said they were checking her out but didn’t have any other information. Are you coming with me to the hospital?”

“Of course!” Spencer finally stands and the two men grab their belongings. 

“I’ll drive,” Shayne says. Ian opens his mouth to decline but Shayne says, “Neither of you should be driving right now.”

“He’s right,” Spencer says, clearly shaken. Ian looks at the two of them before letting out a shaky breath and nodding, silently agreeing that it’s best for Shayne to take them. 

The other people in the room are watching, and they want to reassure the boys, but with nothing to go on it’s hard not to assume the worst case scenario. They know that whatever they say isn’t really going to reach them. Plus, everyone at Smosh considers you a friend, and everyone is worried about you. They just try to not show it, knowing that Ian and Spencer are panicking enough already. 

Quickly, they gather their things and head to Shayne’s car. Ian spends the ride reading through all your jumbled messages, trying to see if he can make sense of anything. Meanwhile Spencer sits in the back, his leg bouncing as he tries to keep his anxiety down, tries to stop imagining how bad it might be. 

Shayne drops the two off and goes to park the car. Ian speaks to the receptionist, while Spencer hangs behind him, unsure what to do, where he should be. It’s only a couple minutes before Ian is back, explaining, “Y/N’s upstairs getting some scans. We need to wait here until someone comes to tell us more.”

“Did they say anything else? I mean, is she alright?” Spencer asks worriedly. 

“Apparently they can only see minor injuries but they need to rule out any breaks or internal bleeding,” Ian answers. 

Spencer nods and finds an empty area to pace in while Ian takes a seat in the corner. Shayne finds them a few minutes later, sitting with Ian and listening to the update. 

After what feels like an eternity a doctor comes out asking for Ian Hecox. Both Ian and Shayne stand to talk with the doctor, but Spencer can’t bring himself to join them. Right now your condition is unknown, and he can keep telling himself that you’re just fine. 

But what if the doctor has bad news? Spencer doesn’t know how he’ll handle that. So he stays away, trying to remain cautiously optimistic for at least another moment. 

He does watch Ian’s reaction, and when he seems to let out a sigh of relief while Shayne smiles next to him, Spencer allows himself to actually hope that you’re okay. He starts walking over to the others and just as he gets there the doctor says, “You can go see her in a moment. One of the nurses will come get you.”

“Thank you,” Ian says and the doctor turns to find another family. 

“No broken bones or internal bleeding,” Ian says to Spencer. “Not even any stitches. Just some bad bruising and some scrapes.”

“Thank god,” Spencer says. The adrenaline rushes out of him, and it feels like all the air goes with him, leaving him feeling shaky all of a sudden. He sits in the closest chair, holding his head in his hands. 

“You alright?” Shayne asks. 

Spencer takes a deep, shaky breath and says, “Yea. I’m just- I’m relieved.” 

Shayne gets it. Doesn’t need to hear anything more. He knows Spencer was freaking out internally, panicking even though he seemed so controlled externally. So Shayne just puts a comforting hand on his shoulder for a moment before giving Spencer some room. 

They wait a few minutes and then a nurse comes to lead them to the room you’re in. 

“We’re just getting the discharge paperwork together and she’ll be able to go home soon,” the woman says as they reach your room. 

Ian enters first, Spencer close behind while Shayne hovers by the door. 

“What the hell happened?” Ian asks as he stands beside you. It’s a brash question, but asked in a quiet, concerned tone. 

You take a deep breath, somewhat shaky now that you have people here to support you. They don’t know that you’ve been holding yourself together. Staying strong for the past couple hours since experiencing the single most terrifying event of your life. 

Ian notices this, but even though he's your big brother who’s been by your side your entire life, this is new territory for him. Sure he’s seen you upset before, but half the time his teasing was the reason. Other times you were venting about your parents and all he had to do was listen and agree. Then there were the occasions when your friends were being mean or a boy broke your heart. In those cases he always promised to hunt them down and fight them. You knew that would never actually happen, but it was the thought that counted. 

But here you are, seeming so young and vulnerable, and Ian doesn’t know how to fix it. 

Luckily Spencer is there. And instead of freezing like Ian, the sight of you scared in that bed moves him to action. He stands on your side opposite Ian, and gently takes your hand in his while wrapping his other arm around your shoulders, tucking you to his chest. It’s not exactly comfortable, so after some shifting he sits next to you and holds you that way. 

“It was an idiot on their cellphone,” you finally say. “He blew right through a stop sign, didn’t even slow down. He hit my drivers side, but like, the backseat and trunk. Spun my car a couple times and I crashed into a light pole.”

You shudder involuntarily as you relive it, and Spencer holds you tighter to him. Ian finally moves forward, placing a hand on your shoulder. At his touch you shift away from Spencer, letting your brother hug you for a moment. 

After a minute you move to get more comfortable and groan in pain. 

“What hurts?” Ian asks as he pulls away, scared that he’s touching some injury. 

“Nothing exactly,” you answer. “Or, well, everything does. I don’t know. I’m just sore all over.”

Spencer gingerly takes your hand in his again, trying to comfort without causing any pain. 

“Glad to see you’re okay,” Shayne says from his spot at the door. “And I’ll give you a ride home whenever you’re ready.”

“Thank you. I really appreciate that. I think I’m waiting on paperwork or something?”

“The nurse said they were getting that ready,” Ian states. 

Thankfully it’s only a moment later that she’s back, a stack of papers in hand. She explains your care instructions for the upcoming days, how to deal with the pain you’ll be feeling, and what symptoms would require you to come back to the hospital. After that she has you sign some papers, and your hospital visit is officially over. 

“I’ll bring the car around,” Shayne says. He leaves to do that and you try to slide off the bed. As soon as your legs touch the floor, you feel how sore and weak they are, causing you to start to tip over. Both men reach out to steady you. Once sure you’re not going to fall over, Ian steps back allowing Spencer to support you. 

He helps you walk out to where Shayne is waiting with the car. 

“Do you want to ride in the front so you’re more comfortable?” Ian asks. 

“No, you take that. I want to sit in the back,” you answer. Spencer helps you into the seat before walking around and sitting on the other side. But as soon as he settles he notices your shaking deep breaths and opts to sit in the middle seat so he can be closer to you. You give him a grateful look, and the anxiety of getting back in a car so soon after the accident lessens with him by your side. 

“Where am I going?” Shayne asks. 

It’s a good question, and you don’t have an answer right away so you look at Spencer. 

“Do you want to stay with me? Or I could come stay with you,” he says and you nod. Ian gives Shayne your address and he begins to drive. Spencer puts his arm around your shoulders and you tuck into his side, hiding your face in his neck so you don’t have to see the other cars on the road. 

It doesn’t take long to get back to your place and you thank Shayne as Spencer comes around to help you out. 

“If you need anything, let me know,” Ian says. “I’ll come by later to drop off Spencer’s car and I’ll get some things from the store on my way.”

“Thanks,” you say, grateful to have your brother live so close by. Spencer once again supports you and helps you get inside your apartment. 

“I want a shower,” you state. You start walking towards your bathroom, only making it a few steps before needing to rest on the couch. 

“How about I draw you a bath?” Spencer asks quietly. 

You’re not typically one to take baths, and Spencer knows this. But he also knows that you’re not strong enough to stand in the shower right now. You feel like you’re admitting defeat by nodding yes, but it’s the best choice right now. 

“You sit here, I’ll come get you when it’s ready,” he says, placing a kiss on your head before walking away. It’s only a couple minutes later that he’s back, helping you to the bathroom. 

The two of you stand there and it’s obvious that he doesn’t know exactly what to do now. “I’ll uhm, I can just-” he fumbles, leading you to say, “Stay. Please.”

“Okay,” he says, his voice almost a whisper, knowing that this is a vulnerable time for you. With his assistance, you manage to get undressed and in the tub. It’s a bit of a process, but soon you’re feeling clean, Spencer methodically washing your hair before carefully scrubbing your body. When that’s done he helps you get dressed and in bed. 

Just as you’re settling in there’s a knock at the door, and Spencer goes to answer it. He lets Ian in and your brother walks into the bedroom.

“Got you some pain medicine. Also ice packs and a heating pad, not sure which one you’d need. And I talked to someone from your insurance agency so that’s being taken care of.”

“Thank you,” you reply. You and Ian might not be the kind of siblings that talk about feelings or hug it out, but you will always be there for each other. And right now, you really appreciate all that he’s doing for you.

“Need anything else?” he asks.

“No, I think I’m good. Probably just need to go easy for a couple days and then I should be good to go,” you answer, trying to sound as positive as possible. 

“Alright well, call me if you need me,” he says, giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze before walking out of the bedroom.

You relax into the comfy blankets, closing your eyes to get some rest, and therefore missing the conversation in the other room.

“Thanks for bringing my car back,” Spencer says. “And for all this,” he adds, gesturing to the bags on the table.”

“Yea, like I said, if you guys need anything else shoot me a text.” Ian stands awkwardly for a moment, looking back towards your room. He takes a deep breath and looks at Spencer and says, “Take care of her, okay?”

“Of course. Always,” Spencer confirms. 

“I really am happy for you two. You’re good for each other,” Ian says, causing Spencer to smile. 

“Thanks, man. She makes me really happy. And today?” His smile falls thinking back to earlier that afternoon. “Well, not knowing if she was badly hurt, that was one of the worst moments of my life. So I know it must've been awful for you.”

“Yea, I mean, as her big brother, no one's allowed to hurt her but me. And I swear, we stopped wrestling when she turned ten, so that hasn't happened in years.”

“Did you stop because she started winning?” Spencer jokes.

“Oh, absolutely. She’s got an impressive headlock,” Ian replies with a laugh. “I’m gonna head out. Oh, and you’re off the schedule for the rest of the week. Just, be here for Y/N, we’ll cover you at work.”

“Thanks. I’ll make sure she’s taken care of.”

“I don’t doubt that,” Ian says. “Keep me updated,” he adds and walks to the front door.

“Will do,” Spencer confirms as Ian leaves. After checking the door is secure, Spencer heads back to the bedroom but finds you’re already asleep. It’s a bit early, but after the day you’ve had he’s not surprised that you’re exhausted. He puts the new ice packs in the freezer to chill and eats a little dinner before joining you in bed. 

You sleep soundly through the night, but wake up with a groan, feeling somehow more sore than the day before. As promised, Spencer takes care of you, helping you with whatever you need. 

Within a few days you’re feeling better physically. But you struggle mentally, getting anxious every time you get into a car. Luckily Spencer and Ian don’t have any problems driving you wherever you need to be until you’re ready to get behind the wheel again. 

This whole ordeal is one of the scariest things you’ve ever gone through, but with Ian and Spencer by your side, you’re able to heal.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------