Down in the Pitt

Each time (Y/n) straightened up and tried to walk, it was like a knife cut into her abdomen and made her want to cripple forwards again.

She took the deepest breath that she could manage and forced her numb feet to continue walking and aim towards the double doors at the end. Even if she hadn't remembered the way back towards the bar and lounge area, (Y/n) would have known which way to go by the crowd of people gathering in that direction.

The security that followed the band wherever they went on tour were currently in the lounge too, making sure that although people were free to go in there and order drinks, they couldn't approach the band.

It was late in the afternoon and the band had only just arrived here in this city, to this hotel where they were staying. They had been on the road for almost twenty hours, they didn't need to be hounded by fans and the media in here too.

(Y/n) was glad for the security keeping everyone at bay because she would hate for the fans to come close and think she was rude or some snotty spouse when in reality, she wasn't feeling her best today. She hadn't been feeling great for two or three days, really.

The moment their group huddled into the hotel, (Y/n) had handed her bag to Luke and aimed for the toilets, saying she was desperate. She wasn't. She needed somewhere to sit in private, somewhere to hold her breath and let a few tears escape and contort her shape into the tiniest configuration she could manage until her crippling, aching muscles relented and she felt better.

Tears blurred at the corner of her vision as she aimed into the bar that looked rather stylish. Lights hanging from the ceiling that looked like configurations of stars, black velvet violas draped over the windows and held up with silk ribbons. Silver and black cushioned chairs that looked soft enough to look like clouds fallen to the Earth.

It didn't take much to spot the band, the mass of colourful hair, the laughter, the heads all huddled together and spreading the drinks out on the table in front of them.

(Y/n) aimed there way, her sights set on the crop of black curls that shone under the bright lights. And those broad shoulders hidden beneath the leather jacket that could show her reflection when she was close enough.

The curved silver seat Luke was on looked rather low to the ground and was made into an oval shape, wide enough that it could fit two people on. Even if it couldn't, (Y/n) would have wedged herself onto the end anyway with the way that she was currently feeling.

Her hand gripped the back of the chair tight enough that her nails almost cut through the soft material and her fingers were surely denting the foam hidden underneath, but she didn't care. Her weight leant onto the chair as she rounded the side and slid down into the seat with less grace than she usually would have afforded herself.

As soon as she was seated, (Y/n) let her eyes fall closed and she slumped to the right, dropping her cheek onto Luke's shoulder as her body curled over. It looked affectionate to onlookers, like she was curling around her husband for some comfort annd affection, but in reality (Y/n) was curling in on herself and pushing into him to try and release the tension in her system.

Her back felt like it was going to break, her chest was tight enough that breathing felt like a struggle, and her abdomen was aching like each muscle had been torn apart by wild wolves.

She managed to bring her knees up towards her stomach with her feet perched on the edge of the chair to keep herself propped up. Her legs leant against Luke's thigh and she curled both hands around his bicep, clinging to him like she was afraid she would become lost completely if she didn't hold onto him.

A smile crept onto Luke's face when he saw that (Y/n) was back, and he turned his head to the right to merge his lips with her temple. His hand slid into the groove beneath her knee and he gently lifted her legs and hooked them over his lap so she didn't have to curl up, she could stretch her legs out over his lap almost like she were sitting on his thighs.

His hand curled around her thigh, thumb softly stroking along her leggings as he leaned into her.

"You good?" He murmured quietly enough against her temple that no one else would be able to hear him. He could feel her breathing was a little different to normal, more depth like it was an effort to breathe as if she had just been running a marathon. And the fact that she was hiding into his side, not uttering a word and not reaching for the drink he had gotten her on the table, made him suspect she still wasn't feeling well.

"Still feel rough… do you have any painkillers?" (Y/n) pressed her lips to his jacket, feeling the cold leather against her lips like they were sticking together as her breaths fanned against the material.

She knew Luke- and the others too- kept painkillers lying around in case any of them had a cold or had an ache or pain that they needed to cure or dampen down so they could go on stage. And (Y/n) was sure that she had used up all the ones she'd kept in her bag for emergencies last night and this morning while they were on the tour bus aiming for this city.

Luke's hand stayed curled around her thigh as he leant forward until his chest was merged into her legs and his free hand reached down for his duffle bag resting by his feet.

After a quick look through, he retrieved a plastic sachet of painkillers and laid them on (Y/n)'s lap, reaching for one of the glasses of water in the middle of the table since he figured she wouldn't want any alcohol just now if she was feeling rough.

"Not feeling well?" Calum's tone was kind and he nodded down to the pills (Y/n) quickly chugged down with the full glass of water.

"Think I pulled something," (Y/n) grazed her hand across her middle, sure that she must have slept funny when they were on that tour bus or that she had moved wrong when she bent to pick something up. Her abdomen ached and standing straight hurt too, not to mention the ache in her lower back.

One or two muscles had definitely been pulled or had seized up from the cold, (Y/n) was sure of it.

She was glad that none of them inquired any further. That when she closed her eyes again and tucked her face into the crook of Luke's neck, no one commented or laughed or thought she was being rude. They let her hibernate into Luke's side, drifting in and out of the conversation while they all tried to relax and stretch out and have some fun before they would need to get ready for their show tonight.

"Alright, let's go check out these rooms."

(Y/n) couldn't have been more glad when Ashton said that and jumped to his feet; she was ready to lie down and rest before everyone would have to go to the arena so the band could prep for their show.

She felt sluggish like her body had been put on slow motion and as if she were walking in a daze. She was silently relieved when Luke told her to wait by the lift and he went and got her overnight bag from the bus for her.

They all had suitcases and bags that mainly lived on the bus, they didn't stay in one place for long on these tours so when they got to stay in a hotel, they only took a small overnight bag with them.

They were all on the eighth floor, their rooms all cloistered near the lifts which seemed appropriate.

As soon as the door opened (Y/n) headed in and made a beeline for the bed, sitting down like her body was about to fall apart. She hadn't done a lot of walking or constant moving about today, not like some other days on tour when they walked for hours around the city in the morning and saw the sights before setting up for the band's shows in the evening.

Today had been a travelling and set up day, they got off the bus, came here to the hotel then they would go to the arena for the sound check and the late night show.

"This is a novelty."

(Y/n) hummed as she sat on the edge of the bed, hands fisting in the covers to try and control herself so she didn't make a disgruntled sound at how awful she currently felt.

She knew what Luke meant. They would be spending two nights in this room not just one. They would get a bit more time to explore this city, to relax and stay in this room and just rest if they wanted to. It was a nice change to the fast pace of this tour.

Her eyes followed her husband for a few minutes as he crouched on the floor and went through his bag to choose an outfit he wanted to change into for the show. Wardrobe was a big thing for all four members of the band and though they did reuse some of the clothes in different shows, they always wanted to change it up a bit and look their best.

With a sigh she flopped back and as soon as her head hit the pillow, her muscles loosened and felt like she was turning to water.

She rolled onto her side, knees curling up to her stomach and one hand fisting in the pillow. Maybe a nap or just a few minutes to close her eyes might make her feel a bit better.

"You still not feeling well baby?"

With his chosen outfit laid out neatly on the chair near the vanity table, Luke turned and padded across towards the bed. He perched down on the side of the bed, resting his right hand on the mattress just behind (Y/n)'s hip so he was leaning over her, staring down at her with a fondness pooling within those baby blue eyes.

(Y/n) nodded and cracked open her eyes, gaging his expression as she spoke. "I- I might stay here tonight… do y- do you mind?"

She felt bad. She felt horrid for even suggesting it, but what was the alternative?

It didn't seem plausible that (Y/n) would be able to make it through the show when she was feeling like this. She couldn't sit in the dressing room huddled in on herself listening to the show from afar and when she felt unwell. The whole point of her being on tour was so she could be with Luke and watch the shows, not to sit in the dressing room and listen.

And what if she needed to rush to the bathroom or if she felt sick? She didn't want anyone to see her when she was like that, nor did she want to spend the entirety of the show sat in the toilets.

Staying here in the privacy of their room where she could sleep or just lie uncomfortably in bed or spend the night in the bathroom if necessary, seemed a better option. (Y/n) could try and sleep off this bad feeling or take a bath and hope to feel better and see the performance tomorrow night instead.

A shiver ran down her spine when Luke's fingers delicately brushed along the side of her face and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.

"No, course I don't mind. Will you be okay here, on your own?"

"Hm, I'll j- just try and sleep."

"Okay, you know who to call if you need anything or need to get hold of me?"

(Y/n) nodded, a smile gracing her lips as she tried to relax and show Luke that she would just go to sleep. She knew if she needed anything or she felt worse and wanted to get hold of Luke that she could ring his manager and she would pass along the message straight away.

The number was in (Y/n)'s phone for emergencies, but she was sure that she wouldn't need it. She hoped she would be feeling better or a bit more at ease by the time he was back here tonight.

***

Sweat was dripping off (Y/n) in waves; it didn't matter that she had managed to turn up the aircon or that the cover wasn't even draped over her frame anymore, she still felt like she was sticking to the bedsheets. Her pyjamas had felt creased damp and uncomfortable to the point (Y/n) simply took them off, leaving her laid in her underwear and bra. Even that didn't seem to help her situation very much.

Once again she brought her knees up towards her stomach, contorting herself until she was in a small, cramped shape resembling an oval. Her head was burrowed down into the pillow, arms pinned to her chest and her jaw was clenched so tight that her muscles were going to seize up soon enough and then her mouth wouldn't open at all.

She wasn't sure what time it was, somewhere around or just after midnight she would guess because Luke hadn't been back that long.

She could feel the rise and fall of his chest, though she knew from the feeling that Luke wasn't asleep yet either. His arm was draped over her middle, hand wedged somewhere between her stomach and knees as he had been gliding his fingers across her warm skin before she brought her knees up again.

(Y/n) had spent the majority of the night in growing discomfort and rising agony. Sleep hadn't come to her after Luke left, she got a few minutes here and there, but that was about it. The pains came and drifted off in waves. One minute (Y/n) thought she was going to be sick and managed to crawl to the bathroom, then she felt a little better, a little more at ease, and had to make her way back to bed again.

Even a warm bath with bubbles hadn't done anything to relieve the ache in her muscles or loosen the tension in her back and abdomen.

Luke found himself biting the inside of his cheek until he was sure to leave teeth marks chomped down into the skin. He could feel how tense (Y/n) was and how she was fighting the urge to imbed her knees even further into her stomach than this. She was already contorted and pulled together so cramped and tightly that she almost reminded Luke of a frightened child experiencing a nightmare.

Every now and then a shudder would warp through her system and Luke felt each wave.

But when he felt the rattle in her chest and the hitch in her breath, he knew she was fighting back tears. He knew she was holding in a sob, trying to hold herself together and not let him see just how much pain she was in. And that broke something within him.

A sigh escaped his lips and he pushed himself up on his right elbow, his left hand trying to stretch out against her abdomen and draw patterns across her skin to gain her attention.

His chest curved over (Y/n)'s back and his lips attached to her neck where he felt how she held her breath almost as if she were putting up a front to try and pretend that she was okay. She didn't want him to worry, but they were well past that point now.

When Luke came back to the hotel room- trying his best to be quiet- and found (Y/n) awake and still in discomfort, he hadn't been sure what to do. But she had been exhausted, dosed up on as many painkillers as she was allowed to take, and promised Luke she just wanted to sleep and would feel better once she did so.

But he could see that she wasn't feeling better, she wasn't relaxing or falling asleep or mellowing out. If anything Luke was sure that (Y/n)'s pain and discomfort was growing, and he didn't know how to help her. He just knew that he had to try and do something for her.

"Baby you're not well, we're gonna have to do something."

Tears began to fall from (Y/n)'s eyes and soak into the pillow as (Y/n) tried her best to hold her breath and not let the whimpers fall past her lips. The waves of pain were coming and going still, but they were more intense than they had been before. The pain was manageable when Luke left for his show and she was glad she hadn't gone along or else she would of spent the entirety of the night curled up on the toilet floor wishing the pain away.

As much as Luke knew that (Y/n) didn't want to cause a fuss, she didn't want to get up and see a doctor she didn't know in a foreign country to her, and she especially didn't want to go to a hospital, they were going to have to try and do something.

Whether that be Luke's management team finding a doctor who would come here to the hotel to see (Y/n) or just calling up a medical helpline for some advice. Luke needed to do something, he couldn't lie here and watch his wife go through this pain any longer, it was frightening him.

"What?" Luke's tone was gentle as he tried to decipher what she had muttered into the pillow.

He leant over her a little more, his chin hovering over her shoulder so he could see her but his heart was dismayed to see that her face was drenched in silent tears.

"Hurts!" She spat the word through gritted teeth and the sob (Y/n) had been trying to hold in for the last hour finally wormed its way past her lips. "Ooh, Luke."

Now he knew it was bad. His name only passed through (Y/n)'s lips when they were in front of a formal crowd or something was very wrong or frightening her. Luke hated to hear his name past (Y/n)'s lips when he was so used to nicknames and terms of affection and endearment.

With a slow kiss to (Y/n)'s cheek and a quiet hum to try and calm her down, he peeled himself away from her and turned to his right.

His back creaked and clicked as he sat upright and turned on the light, illuminating the room in a burnt orange glow as he found his phone and got to his feet.

The plain white shirt he was weaeing hung off one shoulder revealing his pale skin that had previously been alight with a crimson tint from all the exhersion and sweating out on stage. Even though Luke was wearing his lounge shirt and shorts, he could still feel the draft from the aircon in the room and it made him shiver. He knew (Y/n) had to be very unwell if she was still sweating in this cold air.

His thumb hovered over his manager's contact and he clicked her name, wincing at the thought of waking her up when they had all been exhausted from the constant travelling and late night shows.

"It's me, I know I'm sorry it's late." One hand reached up to tangle in his curls while the other clamped down on his hip, looking like anxiety personified. "(Y/n)'s ill, like really bad, I don't know what to do. Is there a doctor we can call or do I get an ambulance?"

Luke could barely hear her asking what the problem was, what kind of situation they were in and what was wrong with (Y/n) specifically, they needed to know details. Her voice sounded so far away despite the phone being pressed right up against Luke's ear.

He turned back towards the bed, tears glossing over in his eyes when he looked at his wife, curled up on her side in the bed. He wasn't so sure that the specifics mattered right now. She wasn't well, it was bad because Luke was calling for help and that almost never happened. Wasn't that enough information to go on?

"She's in agony, it's her stomach." There was a trace of agony woven through Luke's voice as he looked at (Y/n), eyes trained on her like he couldn't look anywhere else. He could see her trying to push herself up into a sitting position, but she was trying and failing miserably.

With trembling legs he moved to crouch down beside the bed, his fingers grazing along (Y/n)'s arm as he pinned the phone to his shoulder for a brief moment.

"Baby, they're gonna call you an ambulance, okay?"

Somehow (Y/n) found it within herself to nod and force her eyes open just as Luke hung up the call. She wasn't sure who he had been talking to, but she wasn't in any state to ask or to bother thinking about how many people would be woken up now, because of her. Because she couldn't sleep through this pain that was becoming increasingly overwhelming.

She was going to become an inconvenience to everyone, she was already worrying Luke, that much was clear in his glossing expression. (Y/n) didn't want to have to go to a hospital or have any tests done or cause a fuss, but there didn't seem to be much alternative here.

When she flopped her arm out, she managed to curl her hand around Luke's and pull his arm close to her chest like she needed him as some sort of comfort toy to keep her calm. She knew her grip was crushing, she knew she was at the point of hurting him, but (Y/n) needed that touch, that reassurance and something to take her mind off the splitting feeling she was having to endure right now.

A muffled sound escaped her lips and she suddenly tried to push her weight down onto her right elbow in an attempt to sit herself up. Her hand tugged on Luke's arm, almost yanking him off balance from where he was knelt down beside the bed. Watching her in growing confusion as fear as she seemed to be trying to sit up or even attempting to get off the bed.

"Baby-"

"I n- I need… oh fuck," a sob broke off whatever (Y/n) wanted to say and she flapped her hand in the direction of the bathroom, signalling where she wanted to be.

"Okay, okay." Luke hushed gently, untangling his hand from hers so he could slide his arms around her after he set his phone down. If that was where she wanted to be then he would help her with that.

His hands planted down firmly on her waist and in the centre of her back, trying to take her weight and ease her forward against him so he could help her off the bed. It seemed to work well until Luke had (Y/n) on her feet, then she began to crumple. She couldn't seem to hold her weight up at all which worried him to no end as he watched with bleak eyes and lips parted in horror as (Y/n)'s legs shook and caved in immediately.

She began to shake her head, despite the way that her face was meshed into his chest and her nails dug into his bare arms, gripping so tight that Luke began to shake along with her.

Standing had been a mistake. Trying to move from the bed had been a grave error. (Y/n) didn't feel better now she was standing, she felt a whole lot worse. The pain amplified now she was on her feet and it was clear her legs had gone hollow and didn't have enough strength or blood within them to keep her upright.

"No, no- Luke s- something's wrong." A broken sob tremored through her lips as she gripped his arms tight enough to draw blood and make him hiss.

"What? What's wrong, what hurts?" Tears were finally treking their way down Luke's features, a cry of his own clawing at his chest.

He was petrified on her behalf.

He didn't receive an answer, but (Y/n) seemed to try and back up, aiming for the bed again. She couldn't stand, and if Luke managed to get her into the bathroom then she would just collapse on the floor and have an even harder time trying to get back to the bed again. Moving had been a mistake, (Y/n) needed to stay where she was so things didn't get more difficult.

Luke leant her backwards, his chest curving over her own as he helped her back onto the bed where it felt safest for her to be and stay until help arrived.

It looked like (Y/n) was contorting into a different shape once she was crumpled on the bed again, trembling against the pillows as she curled in on herself. But what got Luke's attention as he flopped onto the edge of the bed in a mess of adrenaline and agony himself, was the fact that both (Y/n)'s hands were pushing down deeply and intently against her lower stomach and pelvis.

It made him wonder what the problem was if applying pressure seemed to help or not cause her any worsening pains. Usually if someone was injured or in agony, touching the specific area and pressing down didn't help.

Every muscle in (Y/n)'s body felt like it was morphing and tearing itself apart, like she was abut to transform into a mythical creature or another being entirely.

Deep breaths raged past Luke's lips as he leant to his right, watching (Y/n) with narrowed, tearing eyes as she whined and writhed and fidgeted like it was impossible to lay still. And all he could do was sit like a frozen statue when (Y/n) whimpered "Something's h-happening."

She was looking at him like he should know what to do, like he should be able to help her somehow and he felt as utterly helpless as (Y/n) looked because what was he supposed to do? How was he meant to help?

Tears blurred (Y/n)'s eyes to the point that Luke was merely an outline, a fuzzy halo of black and white shimmering lines that she couldn't seem to make much sense of. All she could understand was the pain she was feeling, the splitting agony that was getting worse and making her breaths come out in shallow puffs of air.

Something like help muttered past her lips in such a feeble tone that (Y/n) was sure she heard Luke cry in response. But then her thighs were tensing, her feet were pushing down into the mattress to try and keep herself stable on the bed and not wriggling too much or at risk of falling.

Then she was moving one of the few articles of clothing she had left, pushing at her underwear, thoroughly expecting to find the mattress drenched in blood from the way she was feeling and how something seemed to have changed.

There was an inkling in the back of (Y/n)'s mind, an explanation that was just as ridiculous as it was plausible, and she was trying to focus her hazy, blurry outlined vision to get Luke back into focus so she could fathom out his expression.

"I'm… I'm not… am I?" She whimpered, unable to say what was on her mind as she stared at Luke through the tears.

All he could do was give her those wide eyes and blushing red lips that were parted, expelling short breaths of air as he stared down. And that look was enough to give (Y/n) her answer, to confirm what was rushing through her mind like a fantasy she couldn't believe was coming to life.

She felt like wailing, like letting out the loudest scream her wheezing lungs could manage, but nothing escaped her lips and her lungs seized up when there was a rapid fire knocking at the door.

Luke's feet stumbled beneath him as he scrambled from the bed and aimed towards the door, partially afraid of who he would fnd and what he was meant to say to them to explain… all of this.

It was their manager, and surprisingly Michael. The red head was leant against the door frame, hair damp and plastered to his face and neck while he rubbed at his eyes to try and liven himself up and show concern. He wasn't sure what was happening or what the emergency was, but he figured he'd best find out and see if there was anything he could do to help.

"Hey, what's going on with (Y/n), why do we need an ambulance?" Michael had been a little bit more than shocked when he found the manager and about three of the hotel staff talking in the hallway, reassured that an ambulance was on the way.

And as he stood here in the corridor, leant against the doorframe, he could fele his frame tensing up and shudders crawling beneath his skin at the sound of (Y/n) crying. Michael couldn't remember the last time- if ever- he had heard or seen (Y/n) cry other than shedding a few tears when the band played a rather emotional song.

"Did you call them?"

"Reception called, paramedics will be here soon. Is she okay, what's wrong?"

"I think- God, I think she's having a baby."

That brought a frown to both their faces and made Michael push off the door frame.

If it weren't for the sound of (Y/n)'s cries, he would have been sure that Luke was now pulling some elaborate prank. They were always pulling stunts, making pranks and games when they were on tour, it was a tradition since they first toured with One Direction.

It didn't seem too extreme or too far fetched that Luke would pull a prank in the middle of the night and try to panic them. But he wasn't the type of person to waste emergency resources and call for an ambulance if one wasn't necessary, and (Y/n) was clearly in some kind of agony.

"Uh, I don't…" Michael shook his head because this just didn't seem believable.

A horrid thought struck the back of his mind and made his lips curl into an awful frown at the sudden wonder if Luke had worded that wrong and this meant (Y/n) was suffering a miscarriage.

Because since when had she been pregnant at all? Michael had children of his own, he knew how it worked and he knew that (Y/n) hadn't displayed any symptoms or characteristics, she didn't look pregnant or act it, the couple hadn't mentioned anything of the sort.

This wasn't something they would keep quiet, this wasn't something that went unnoticed by everyone, it just didn't work like that. He knew Luke was a private person, he didn't talk to the media about his home life, but he talked to the band. If (Y/n) was pregnant, he would have told them, and if she was at the late stage of giving birth, they would have known or noticed.

Luke didn't have time to explain and a grunt left his lips as he ran his hand up and down his face before attempting a response.

"She is!" He sounded desperate; so desperate that Michael was already believing him despite how absurd it was. "Go tell reception she's in labour and we need the medics now."

The urgency in his voice was like nothing they had heard in the singer's voice before andn they found themselves stunned as they watched him delve back into the room, leaving them stood there in shock, staring after him.

Both of them peered around the door but quickly backed up out of sight and over the threshold when (Y/n)'s pleading voice called out to them.

"Get out," she seemed to whimper through the words, but there was something frightening in her voice that made them comply instantly. She didn't want to be watched or observed like some circus attraction, and she certainly didn't want any of her close friends- who she considered family- to see her in a state like this.

"It's okay, it's alright baby an ambulance is coming."

Luke was back to sitting on the edge of the bed, glad that when he reached out or her, she didn't lean back or push him away.

One arm curved around her lower waist, helping her to sit forward since he could see that was what she wanted to do. Her hands clutched at his back, scrunching up into his shirt until it was creased and woven between her fingers. And Luke's other hand came up to rest against the back of her head, curling in her hair as he attached his lips to her temple and breathed raggedly against her skin.

"I didn't know," (Y/n) uttered the words on repeat against Luke's chest, as if desperately trying to convince him and make him believe her.

"I know you didn't, and you're doing so good, you hear me? My strong girl."

(Y/n) continued to clutch at his back, trying not to grip too tightly or dig her nails through his shirt and into his skin. The last thing she wanted was to hurt Luke, but clinging to him like this made her feel the slightest bit better. It helped deviate her mind from the torture her pelvis was succumbing to.

"Just wait until I tell mum; she won't believe this."

They both knew that his mum would be the first person that Luke would tell about this ordeal. And they knew she wasn't going to believe a word.

She would think that Luke was pranking her, that he was trying to get her reaction and get her hopes up for a grandchild. Then she would believe that they had known about the baby but kept it a secret from her, from everyone and she wouldn't be pleased about that either. It was going to take a lot of explaining and reasoning for her to understand that none of this had been known or planned.

(Y/n) didn't know she was pregnant, she didn't suspect for a moment that she might be having a baby. She would have told Luke if she thought she was, things would have been so different from this. She wouldn't be on the tour right now if she knew and thought she was close to her due date. (Y/n) wouldn't have carried on as normal and assumed everything was fine if she had a small, sneaking suspicion about any of this.

By the time the paramedics arrived, (Y/n) felt like her face was glued into Luke's shirt with the pespiration and tears streaming down her features.

Her knees were coiled up near her aching stomach, heels digging down into the bed and her hands were still clutching at Luke's back like she was trying to merge herself into his chest and hide away against him.

"Alright, we heard there's an emergency in here?"

"You think you're having a baby?"

(Y/n) didn't have the energy to respond to them, nor did she want to open her eyes and see their bewildered or sympathetic glances. Her hands finally unlatched from Luke, leaving his shirt tight around his front and scrunched up and crumpled against his back, and let herself shakily sink back into the pillows.

She was grateful and glad when Luke quickly entwined their hands so she still had that touch and connection to him while she opened her eyes and stared up at the ceiling through blurred eyes, refusing to look anywhere else.

It was both a tremendous relief and a horrible shock to hear one of the medics confirm "You are indeed having a baby, and fast."

Because as much as this had seemed like the only plausible explanation and how she had known deep in her bones that it was right, it was still a shock. It was a relief to know she was right, that they weren't panicking over nothing or it wasn't something else entirely like a hernia or a prolapse or a twisted intestine. And the medics weren't calming her down or telling her she had overreacted and jumped to a horribly wrong conclusion.

It wasn't much better to know that she was having a baby she had no idea about. A baby that wasn't known or thought of or planned for. She and Luke had nothing ready, they were on tour for heaven's sake. He was doing shows almost every night and they were moving from state to state, country to country, going all around the world.

This wasn't the time or the place to stop and have a baby, they had no clothes, no preparations, no items or necessities, nowhere for this baby to even sleep. And what did this mean for the tour? What was Luke going to do? What was (Y/n) going to have to do, go back home straight away? Prepare the house for a baby that was already here and waiting?

So many thoughts clouded (Y/n)'s mind until she let out a careless sob and tried to smother her face with her other hand to stop the tears and hide herself away.

It didn't work, because Luke simply leant over her with those shining ocean eyes glossed with tears and a gentle smile that could have patched up the worst wound in the world. He took her hand in his, holding both her hands to his chest, and he bent his head down to flutter his lips over the back of her trembling fingers.

"Everything's gonna be okay, I'll sort everything out once they're here and safe, I promise."

Luke would make all the necessary arrangements and preparations. He would talk to the band, the management and touring team, he would sort everything and tell their families and make the calls. He would get their house ready as well, he would do everything that needed to be done so (Y/n) didn't have to spare one worried thought about any of it.

He would do all of that just as soon as this surprise baby was born and they and (Y/n) were okay and taken care of.

"The head's already out, well done. Small pushes and panting breaths now, just keep doing what you're doing (Y/n) because you're on the right track."

(Y/n) didn't care anymore about the screams, groans and whimpering coughs that left her lips. This was one of the worst pains and experiences she had ever been through, and she had spent the majority of it in the dark, unsure what was happening with just her husband here to coach her through it and try to help her.

She had a feeling that most, if not all of the band had gathered out in the hall and she couldn't care anymore if they could hear her screams, if they could seense the agony she was in and if it worried them. All that mattered was getting this situation over and done with.

Bells began to ring in her ears and stars flashed before her eyes causing (Y/n) to close them tight in a bid to get rid of the flashes.

Her arms coiled to her chest, Luke's hands entwined with hers and pressing down on her lower chest as she tensed up, pressing back into the pillows as every last ounce of strength went into the splitting agony tearing through her core and pelvis.

When she found the tension leaving her body that seemed to sink into the mattress like she was falling through a cloud, there were far too many voices around her for her to focus on. The mixture of laughs and excited praises leaving Luke's lips that were now meshed against her temple. Whatever the medics were trying to say to her, whether they were asking if she was alright, trying to make her open her eyes and give them some sort of answer, or wehther they were just telling her she was done, (Y/n) had no idea.

Then there was the quiet, mewling cries that seemed to block out everything else and made (Y/n)'s heart give three extra powerful thumps against her ribs like it was reaching out for the source of those noises.

A baby. Her baby. Her child.

The world was a mess of bright colours, illunimating lights and excited faces when everything started to make sense to (Y/n)'s hazy eyes.

She wasn't sure when Luke had managed to let go of her hands or when he had started to cradle the back of her neck and attach his lips to her cheek, kissing and whispering how much he loved her.

It felt like volts of electricity shot through her when one of the medics leant forward on the bed, motioning with her arms to the bundle she was cradling in one of the hotel towels, clearly the closest thing to a blanket that they could find at such short notice.

The weak nod of (Y/n)'s head made her mind spin and her breathing completely stopped when that tender weight was settled on her chest.

Those snuffling breaths seemed to tremor through to (Y/n)'s lungs and the feeling of her baby wriggling, whacking their tiny fist against her chest and shimmying in her embrace made (Y/n) feel like she was in some sort of waking dream.

Was this really real? Was this her reality now? When had she gotten so lucky all of a sudden?

"You've got a little girl there, happy and seemingly healthy. You'll both need to spend some time at the hospital and have a few checks, just to make sure everything's okay."

(Y/n) leant her temple against Luke's, trying to smile through the buzzing adrenaline and shock and bluss and everything else in between that she was currently feeling. The smile on his face, the flash of his teeth, the tears pouring from his eyes, it all moulded into the most beautiful look (Y/n) had ever seen and she wanted to capture and remember that look each and every day.

She felt his thumb stroking along the back of her neck like he was trying to ground her back to reality with him, and his other hand shakily curved around the back of their daughter's head, staring at her with utter disbelief and amazement lighting up his eyes.

"What a beautiful gift," he murmured against (Y/n)'s lips, looking between his two girls, one of which had already wormed her way into his heart in the space of two minutes.

If someone told Luke this morning that in the space of one day he would have his very own child placed in his arms, he wouldn't have believed them.

"So, what was this big change you needed to talk about?"

Dumping his cup on the table, Ashton sat forward and rested his elbows on his knees after fishing out the scrumpled piece of paper from his pocket.

He set the paper on the table, surprising the band when they realised it wasn't some random notes he had come up with or some new designs and drawings to promote the band like he usually did.

It was a copy of all the dates they had agreed upon for this tour and where they would be playing. All the venues that had agreed and been booked in advance. Now he had a round of confused faces staring at him, wondering what he was thinking and why he wanted to talk about the schedule.

Here goes nothing.

"It's these dates here, before we go home to Sydney," his index finger tapped on the date that had been annoying him the most. The show that was scheduled on (Y/n)'s due date.

That show wouldn't be possible for starters. (Y/n) would either have just had the baby by then, or she would be ready to pop. Ashton couldn't do a show that night in case (Y/n) needed him, if she hadn't given birth already then he would need to be there for when she did. And if she did have the baby then he couldn't play the show and just leave his family behind.

"What about them?"

"We need to rearrange them… all of them." He dragged his index finger up and down the row of dates that was annoying him; at least six dates.

Not to mention the fact that the last number of shows back home in Sydney would need to be pushed back a week or two so Ashton's family was accomodated.

He knew (Y/n) had been right; even if she hadn't been pregnant, this tour was still done in favour of everyone else. Ashton had gone ahead with it because it was always the way and he didn't think he had anything pressing that needed to be taken into consideration.

He had a family now; he was going to have a child of his own that would need to be put first in everything he did and every other tour and show he performed from now on.

"All of- why? What's happening then?" Luke's brows shot up in surprise as he looked between the crumpled page of dates and Ashton, who looked a mix between uneasy and overly excited, all mashed up into one.

"What's come up all of a sudden, you said you didn't have anything conflicting on all the dates when we planned the tour." The confusion in their manager's voice made Ashton wince.

He knew this was short notice and he knew it wasn't great to agree and then go back on it and ask for arrangements to be made to suit him better, but what else could he do? If he'd of only checked the dates with (Y/n) in the first place, he would have found out a different way that she was pregnant and he would have gone back and ecstatically told them no, these dates weren't suitable for his growing family. But there was nothing he could do about that now.

"(Y/n)'s pregnant. Her due date's around here," his eyes remained solely focused on the page as he pointed to the date in question, "and I've gotta be there with her. Then I can't just leave them to finish these dates, so we'll need to put a break in there, or you play without me."

His shoulders rose at an angle and an open-mouthed grin pulled at his lips as he spoke entirely in jest, of course.

He knew the band weren't to go and play without him, that was something none of them would ever do.

He could feel his heart taking flight and radiating a core bass beat throughout his system until Ashton was sure his skin was thrumming and vibrating. He was certain that if anyone were to look at him close enough they would be able to see the timing of his heartbeat thumping through his skin.

He grinned as Calum almost spilt his own drink to try and lean over from his seat to wrap an arm around Ashton's shoulders, reeling him in for a sideways- but nevertheless tightly embracing- hug.

Their words- and shouts- of congratulations was so overwhelming that Ashton felt like he was about to go deaf.

"We'll have to cancel quick before people start buying tickets… I'll see if the arena's can postpone for a month, push everything back one month. Then you should have the time off you need."

"Thank you… I didn't know when I agreed to it all and I don't want (Y/n) worrying I won't be there."

He made her a promise. He said he wouldn't miss any aspect of this pregnancy, that he would be right there by her side and he meant every word. He wasn't missing a thing. This tour would just have to accomodate Ashton for a change.

Each tear that cascaded down her face felt like a droplet of glue poured onto her skin.

Her skin was heating up from the exhersion of trying not to cry, trying to hold the tears at bay and make sure no noise escaped her lips. Combined with how sticky the tears made her face feel and how tight it made her features, (Y/n) just wanted to curl up into a ball and disappear.

Her fingers were digging into the edge of the mattress so tightly that she expected clumps of foam to stick beneath her nails and tear apart from the bed. The sheets were going to be crumpled too where she was holding on and scrunching the material between her fingers. An act to try and stop herself from making a noise or tensing up to the point she pulled a muscle.

This was something that (Y/n) had dreaded would happen.

She had been relieved, over the moon, when Ashton said she was fine to come on tour with the band despite the fact that she would be heavily pregnant by the end of it. They had no issues when changing the tour dates and pushing back the last few dates to accomodate the birth. Everything seemed to have gone so smoothly and according to plan.

The one thing (Y/n) feared was that she wouldn't feel well when she was on tour with them. The last thing she wanted was to be an inconvenience to the band when they had already changed their dates once for her already and when she was here with them on the tour. She didn't want to slow then down, didn't want to worry Ashton or make anyone think she was a nuisance.

The morning sickness had dragged on a bit, but by the time they went on tour it was mostly under control. Now as the pregnancy had progressed, (Y/n) was starting to feel uncomfortable, this last week especially.

Horrid back pain that wouldn't leave her alone, the baby pressing and weighing her down like she was carrying a ton of weight and not just a little baby.

Not to mention the fact that travelling on the tour bus meant being cooped up for long periods of time. (Y/n) had taken to walking up and down the length of the bus to stop her muscles from seizing up and to try and help her back ache.

Her head angled down until her chin was almost pressed down into her chest and she tried to take deep breaths through her nose in a vain attempt to settle her system. It didn't seem to matter which way she tried to lay, nothing made her comfortable and when she felt like this, sleep was inevitable.

Her heart gave out a rocketing beat that made each blood vessel quake when she felt a warm touch on her lower back.

Her heart seemed to hum in response to the low groan that Ashton let out and she froze, holding still to try and work out whether he was awake or just moving in his sleep.

He was awake. His hand gripped her hip more firmly, giving a strong squeeze before his arm seemed to shift and worm its way around her waist so he could reel himself closer to her. Ashton had been laid on his left side before, facing the window, clearly he had turned over because (Y/n) could feel his face meshing up against her lower back. Each mellow breath he took fanned hot and tingling through the lounge shirt she wore to bed.

"What's up baby? Why're you awake?" Each word murmured against her spine in between her hips and made her shiver.

She didn't have the nerve to answer because she knew if she did, Ashton would hear the catch in her throat and the uneven tone of her voice. He would figure out that she had been crying, and then she would worry him unnecessarily. (Y/n) didn't want that. She didn't want to panic him when this was just aches and pains; this was to be expected at this stage.

When she didn't provide him with an answer, she felt his hand slowly sliding around from her hip until he was suddenly cupping the base of her stomach with his palm.

His voice was groggy and thick with sleep as he muttered into her back "Is she keeping you up?"

"Hmm," with a small murmur of agreement, (Y/n) reached down and curled her hand gently around his wrist. Her thumb traced across Ashton's skin as she moved his hand a bit further up until he could feel the little but incessant round of kicks she was feeling.

The kicking and wriggling wasn't a problem because as strange and relentless as the feeling was, it wasn't painful, at least not yet anyway. It was the strain in her lower stomach and the pressure on her lower back that was the problem for (Y/n). Their baby moving about and showing that she was awake wasn't what was keeping (Y/n) up right now. But she wasn't going to admit that to Ashton and have him start worrying; that wouldn't be fair on him.

She wasn't going to comment either on the fact that Ashton was still so adamant that they were having a girl. Since the moment she told him she was pregnant, he had it in his head that they would have a daughter. (Y/n) knew that if they did have a boy, Ashton would be just as thrilled and would fawn over them, it was just the way he expected fate to go.

They hadn't found out yet, they didn't want a gender reveal, they wanted it to be a surprise.

"Try and lay down baby."

Ashton shuffled back a bit and tugged his arm that was around her waist, gently trying to usher (Y/n) to lay down beside him again. He couldn't imagine that she would make herself feel any better by sitting up on the side of the bed. She wasn't moving and if she wasn't about to go to the toilet, then she might as well try and rest and try to get some sleep. Even if she couldn't sleep, she still needed to relax or it was going to be a long night and she would feel worse for it in the morning.

His hand stayed glued to her stomach, thumb stroking across her skin through her shirt as he felt her carefully swing her legs back up onto the bed. Sometimes it felt like they were lying on a water bed with how the tour bus swayed and bumped and stuttered on the roads as they went from city to city, country to country every other day.

But as she tried to sink down into the mattress again, it felt like she had laid on the tip of a blade which had sunk into her spine. A twinge rolled through her hips as she took a sharp breath and felt the weight of the baby adding to the sudden, striking discomfort.

Ashton felt it. He felt whatever shudder that tore through (Y/n) and the way she seemed to choke on her breath like something something struck her and she was in pain.

His senses seemed to come flooding back to him and he opened his eyes, adjusting quickly to the darkness surrounding them so he could push up on his right elbow and lean over her, his other hand glued where it was against her stomach.

"What was that?" Caution flooded his voice and a sceptical look took over his features because he knew (Y/n) was in pain, but he also knew what his wife was like. She didn't like to tell him these things, she didn't want to feel like she was a bother or worry him.

"J- just my back, it's aching."

It was a small relief to feel Ashton's hand move around from her stomach so his palm was against the small of her back near the dip in her spine. Helping her as she tried to turn, no longer able to lay on her back like this. It was too uncomfortable and the baby weighed down harder like that and made it a struggle to take deep breaths.

His hand remained on her back, giving a bit of weight and push to help her until (Y/n) seemed to find some sort of ease in laying on her right side with her knees pulled up as much as she could manage.

Once she settled, she buried her face into the pillow and closed her eyes, breathing a little easier when she felt Ashton's arm loop back over her waist again. His elbow was a comfort against her side and his bare chest moulded up against her back like he was propping her up, letting her lean back into him if that was what she wanted.

His lips pressed feather-like, open mouthed kisses against her throat and his hand slipped beneath her shirt, fingertips beginning to trace patterns against her stomach.

She tried so hard to turn her mind off, to listen to the sounds of the passing traffic or focus on the feeling of Ashton's breaths, soft and lulling against the back of her neck. Anything to take her mind off the pain in her lower back.

But then she felt him move, just a little until his cheek was pressing against her arm and he was curved around her almost like a blanket, and she realised he was whispering something.

He wasn't talking to her; he was saying something to the baby.

"…and it's way past your bedtime. Let mama sleep."

A faint glimmer of a smile pulled at (Y/n)'s tired lips and she tried to let herself sink further into the mattress, tuning out to whatever else Ashton was whispering because it wasn't her that he was talking to. That was a private conversation.

Hopefully she would feel better in the morning, when they got off the bus and she could move about more. Perhaps she was only feeling like this because today was a travelling day and it made everything worse when she could only walk so far and do so little.

She hoped tomorrow would be better.

***

Once again Ashton found himself scanning the room, eyes roaming over each person he came across until he found the one he was looking for. The one that played on his mind no matter where he was or what he might be doing.

As soon as his sights set on her, his eyes began to narrow and his breath caught in his lungs when he observed her.

It took him all of a minute to watch (Y/n) before he grumbled through a sigh and reached to the left to pass his guitar over to Michael. He didn't say a word or wait for a confused response, as soon as the guitar neck was out of his hand, Ashton crouched down at the front of the stage set up. One hand pressed to the floor of the stage and with that he jumped forward, boots thudding as he landed on the main floor of the venue in the section that would be the pit where the crowds would stand and clamour together to get closer to the stage.

His hands flexed at his sides, a light layer of sweat sticking his plain oversized t-shirt to his skin as he aimed for (Y/n).

She had been stood down here watching the band do their first checks of the day now that the stage was set up.

While it had been set up they had all quickly checked into their hotel- since they were in this city for two shows- then they had a quick wander round before coming back here late in the afternoon.

But now (Y/n) seemed to be drifting off into her own world, her body turned to the side so she wasn't really facing the stage anymore, that wasn't what was bothering Ashton though. It was the fact that she was stood leaning her upper chest backwards at an almost uncomfortable angle, and since the moment she had come down here, Ashton had noticed where her hand was.

Her hand hadn't moved from where her palm was planted against her lower back. She seemed to be pushing at the base of her spine like her back was causing her some trouble, and that was worrying.

When he reached her Ashton reached out a hand to gently grip her elbow, catching her attention since it was clear she hadn't heard him approach.

"Are you gonna go sit down?"

A frown formed on (Y/n)'s lips as her head twisted to the side, eyes wide and landing on Ashton straight away. Her free hand reached out for his forearm, holding onto him like she was silently trying to reassure him, but her other hand remained on her lower back. Pressing into the dip in her spine where her main discomfort had come from for the past few days.

"What?" Confusion lit up her eyes as she gave his arm a light squeeze. It seemed a rather strange question to ask her out of the blue when he had just been up on stage practising.

Usually he would come over and ask what she thought, if she liked how he played since guitar wasn't his main assortment to play on stage. Ashton didn't normally come over and ask- though it sounded more like a demand than a question- her if she was going to go and take a seat instead of standing here. It wasn't like the fans were about to crowd in and squash and consume her in their midst.

"I haven't seen you sit down since we got off the bus this morning, go and rest."

One hand stayed curled around (Y/n)'s elbow, but the other wafted out towards the hundreds of seats surrounding the stage in the venue.

The band would be messing about on stage prepping and getting ready for a little while longer, so (Y/n) could sit in here. She could go back to the dressing room if she wanted, but Ashton wanted her to sit down.

He knew she hadn't slept well last night and he also knew that she hadn't bothered to sit down and rest since they got off the bus early this morning. She followed with everyone else as they looked around the venue, her and Ashton went for a wander round and into a few shops while they had the morning spare.

He presumed she would take it easy once they got back here to the arena, but (Y/n) had seemed intent on not sitting even for a moment. Even when Ashton had sat down with Michael for a bit before they started the sound checks, (Y/n) had been walking and wandering the corridors near the dressing room like she couldn't sit still. It was unnerving.

Ashton knew this wasn't normal for her. All the other venues they had played these last few months, (Y/n) had been tired. She would take a seat, she would lie down in the dressing room, she would take it slow and try not to overdo it. These last few days she seemed the total opposite.

"B- I'm fine, I'm watching the setup." Shifting her hand from Ashton's arm, (Y/n) motioned towards the stage.

It didn't matter what venue they went to or what city or how the routine was always the same, (Y/n) wanted to watch. She didn't want to miss a thing, and she enjoyed seeing them set up, how they joked around, recorded a few things for the fans online. It was all part of being here for the tour.

Although a small nagging twinge of worry settled in (Y/n)'s chest at the way Ashton was looking down at her. He was scrutinising her, observing her, checking for what was wrong because he knew her like the back of his hand, and he knew something wasn't right.

She didn't want to sit down in case it made her back seize up. Staying cramped on the tour bus with limited movement had made her rest a bit too much and the discomfort wasn't going away. (Y/n) didn't want to sit down and feel like that again, and she didn't want her back to get worse if she relaxed too much. Moving about made her tired beyond belief, but it seemed the better option.

"So it's got nothing to do with you holding you back all afternoon?" With an arched brow, Ashton pointed to where her hand was still glued against her back.

He got his answer when (Y/n) grimaced and couldn't meet his gaze, focusing instead on a stray piece of confetti on the floor that hadn't been swept away yet.

"Tell me."

"We were on the bus for hours, I want to keep moving, it makes me feel better."

It might not have been the whole truth, but it wasn't a lie and Ashton could see that in her eyes when she finally looked up at him and brought her hand away from her back to entwine their fingers together.

"Well I'd feel better if you sat down just for five minutes. You're seven months pregnant. So please," with a wave of his hand he pointed towards the seats closest to them, though he didn't care where she sat as long as she tried to rest.

They both knew if she didn't Ashton would just keep a closer eye on her and he would be panicking more and more.

Taking a step closer, (Y/n) pushed up on her toes and pressed a slow kiss to his lips, feeling his other hand curl around her hip to pull her that much nearer to him until their chests were touching and the curve of her bump was pressing into his abdomen.

A quiet murmur of "I'm okay," left her lips, desperate to stop Ashton worrying over her because that wasn't fair. Not when he was on tour and had more pressing things to worry abouot.

Her steps were slower than usual when she turned away from Ashton and aimed for the nearest row of seats she could get to. She could feel Ashton's eyes burning into the back of her frame, as if he were checking that she was actually going to do as he pleaded and take a rest. She didn't dare wander off because she knew he would only follow her and hover until she took it easy.

She felt a mixture of relief and worry when she took a seat on the first row, closest to the stage and the standing area that would be filled to the brim with fans in a matter of hours.

Her back felt a bit more at ease once she was seated, but there was a dull ache in her hips that spread round to her abdomen until (Y/n) tried to shimmy around to get comfy. She ended up sinking down in the seat until she was slouched like a teenager in a school classroom they really had no interest for.

Her knees parted to the sides, her weight balanced on her toes to keep herself from sliding off the chair. And both hands settled on her rounded stomach, moving up and down her bump to try and settle the baby who was now fidgeting and waking up.

As soon as she lifted her head her eye caught Ashton just as he clambered back up onto the stage like a crazed fan trying to meet the band. The moment he was stood up on the stage, he was looking in her direction like he was making sure she hadn't tried to sneak away, and his features softened when their eyes locked. She could still see that essence of worry flooding those hazel eyes though.

That was why she hadn't said anything. The last thing (Y/n) wanted was for Ashton or any of the band to see her as a burden. They had already changed the schedule once to accomodate her and the baby when her due date would come around.

(Y/n) didn't want to worry Ashton or make any fuss when she was just feeling the kind of aches and discomfort she should have expected from being seven months pregnant and touring round the world with her husband and his band.

Now (Y/n) didn't know what to do with herself.

It had been alright going to sit down for a while, but then she could hardly get herself back up again out of her seat and once she was up, she felt like she had been put on slow motion. Practically dragging her feet as she walked or rather shuffled, unsure where she was going, just knowing that it felt better to keep moving slow and being busy because when she sat down, although she was resting, it showed her just how uncomfortable she truly felt.

For the last ten minutes (Y/n) had been hiding out in the toilets because for one, it was an empty space. She could sit down or just stand over the sink and close her eyes and try to recalibrate herself and feel better. It was somewhere that no one would bother her and she could hide out so Ashton wouldn't see how uneasy she now felt.

(Y/n) wondered whether or not to turn around and go back to hiding out in there, but decided against it. She needed to go and sit down again, to show her face and maybe try and force herself to take a nap and see if that helped.

The walls were vibrating with the sound of the second warm up act and it made her head thump worse than Ashton's drumkit.

She knew this meant that there was only half an hour or so before the band would be out on stage. The sooner they went out and performed, the sooner tonight would be over and (Y/n) could sit at the hotel and will herself into feeling better and getting a proper night's rest.

"Hey, we thought you'd got lost." A smile graced Calum's lips as he fiddled with the ear plugs hanging around his neck and made a beeline in (Y/n)'s direction.

He huddled up beside her until their ebows nudged and when he loosely draped an arm around her shoulders, he was pleased to find (Y/n) leaning into his side with her head just about touching his shoulder.

They had missed her while they had been getting ready and having a quick celebratory drink, a new habit before they went out on stage. They figured either she had wandered too far and couldn't get her bearings in this new venue or she had found a quiet place to sit down and rest or take a nap. Calum was glad he'd found her before they went out on stage.

"You feeling okay?"

He didn't receive an answer. (Y/n) didn't know what to say. Her headache was getting worse, but her stomach was churning like a cement mixer and she didn't feel like she had the ability to talk, let alone work up a good enough lie to calm down one of her close friends. Calum would be able to see she wasn't feeling her best, just like Ashton could.

He bent forward to try and look down at her, catching that vague faraway look in her eyes and the fact that her right hand was pressed into the side of her stomach near her hip. Something wasn't right.

"I'm gonna get Ash."

A hasty reply was on the tip of (Y/n)'s tongue, desperate to say no and tell him she was just having a dizzy spell or something to calm him down, but the words wouldn't form.

Calum got one step away from her before her left hand reached out and grabbed his arm with such force that both of them tremored and Calum felt like a stone of dread had sunk to the pit of his stomach. He spun back around to face her, reaching out to steady her as she looked like she was about to fall, but he ended up watching her in growing fear instead.

Her right hand shook as it moved away from her stomach and suddenly pressed against her inner thighs where her gaze was focusing on.

Both of them were stunned into silence and panic dwelled in (Y/n)'s chest like her lungs were filling with fluid as she pulled her trembling hand away. Her thighs were damp. There was a faint tinge of pinkish, reddish blood on her fingers when she pulled her hand away.

"I…" She didn't know what to say. It was hard enough to lift her head and manage to look up at Calum when their eyes locked.

He felt her hand tighten around his arm, but it was the look in her eyes that hit him to the core. He could see what she was trying to say without her needing to express the words.

'Don't leave me.'

With a sharp nod of his head, Calum slid his arm from her shoulders so he could hold onto her waist instead. He didn't want the risk of (Y/n)'s legs giving out or her being in too much pain to walk and stumbling over. He felt her hand reach up to grab onto his shoulder, holding tight as she leant into his side and they made a slow walk down the corridor.

"I got you."

They seemed to be on the same unspoken path; they needed to find Ashton. As much as (Y/n) didn't want to worry him, she didn't have a choice now. She needed him. She needed help. Something wasn't right and she couldn't try and cope with this and leave Ashton oblivious.

It was a short walk towards the backstage area of the venue where everyone else was gathered. Their crew, their managers and tour staff, the rest of the band and their families.

"Ash," Calum's teeth sunk into his lower lip when he locked eyes with the drummer and looked between him and (Y/n) huddled into his side. "You're gonna have to take (Y/n) to the emergency room."

"What?" The drink in Ashton's hand spilled over his fingers as he hastily dumped it on the nearest surface before making a beeline for them.

He reached them in a fluster, already coming over in a cold sweat of panic that made the leather pants and vest top he wore stick to him like a second skin. "What's wrong?"

A lump formed in (Y/n)'s throat and again she couldn't find the will to utter any words. All she could do was let the tears fall and set her glossing eyes on Calum, praying he could form the words for her.

"She- she's bleeding." Calum leant forward to whisper the words like they were the world's darkest secret; it didn't seem fair to let everyone else hear when this was clearly a personal predicament. He could see the panic sparking within Ashton's eyes as (Y/n) shakily held her hand out near her thigh and looked down, letting the drummer see the where the blood was coming from.

"Shit! Oh baby- I knew you weren't well."

Another wave of tears rolled down (Y/n)'s face as she let go of Calum's shoulder, no longer leaning on him. She took a step forward and dropped her head against Ashton's chest, trying so hard not to burst into sobs and have others looking and listening in.

Both hands scrunched up in Ashton's vest and she was glad when he straightened his back and let her lean her weight into him without a word. His hand rose to cup the back of her neck, fingers tangling in her hair while his other arm curved around her waist to pin her in his embrace.

"The- the show…"

Deep down (Y/n) knew there wasn't much choice in this situation. She couldn't wait for the band to go out on stage and do their performance; she couldn't wait until the show ended to go to the nearest hospital. If they did that something could happen to the baby.

And although (Y/n) could ask one of the band's partners to go along with her, she really didn't want to do that either. She wanted Ashton to be with her because she had no idea what was happening or if the baby was okay; if she got bad news then he needed to be there.

Ashton wouldn't be able to go out on stage anyway, not now he knew something was wrong. His mind wouldn't be on the show, he would be panicking and dwelling and working himself up into a frenzy worrying about his family. His place was right here with her, and he wasn't going anywhere except to the hospital with (Y/n).

"The show doesn't matter; we need you two checked over, okay?"

***

With a grunt, Ashton fished around in his pocket until he grappled with his phone and once it was in his hand, he tossed it onto the chair behind him. The phone might be on silent mode, but the constant alerts and vibrations were making him furious to the point he wanted to launch the phone out the window.

The messages from the band were comforting, asking if they needed anything, if they had any news, to message when they knew what was happening. That was fine. And he'd sent a quick text to his mum, not wanting her to hear over the news that the show had been cancelled and something was wrong.

But it was everything else that was irritating him. The alerts from all over social media. Fans asking what was happening, outraged and concerned and irritated that tonight's show had been cancelled right before the band were due to go out on stage.

Ashton didn't want to deal with that. He didn't want to see what the fans were saying or have their messages coming through, the speculating and well wishes and outraged rants.

It was going to take a while for management to talk to the venue owners and see if a new date could be rearranged so the fans didn't miss out on the experience. But of course, that depended on what happened here and now in the hospital.

Ashton turned back to face the bed (Y/n) was anxiously lying on and without a word he reached down for her hand again.

He was glad they didn't have to wait long once they arrived in the emergency room. Sitting and dwelling and worrying wouldn't do (Y/n) any good; and people had started to stare. Not that Ashton could blame them when he'd been sat there in thick heeled stage boots, tight leather pants and black eyeliner and eyeshadow making him stand out in the bright illuminating lights.

(Y/n) sat up a bit straighter, her head leaning on Ashton's arm at her left but both their attentions were completely focused on the nurse.

When she came in (Y/n) had some bloods drawn, an exam, they'd put her on a monitor and both her and Ashton almost cried with relief when they heard the baby's heartbeat sound strong and steady. Now they were getting an ultrasound.

(Y/n) tried to ignore the uncomfortableness of the sonogram pressing right into her bladder. She wasn't sure whether to look at the screen or at the nurse, but settled on the nurse in the end because it was easier than trying to analyse the image of their baby and guess whether something was terribly wrong or not.

"Well you've not lost a lot of amniotic fluid which is good, and there's no haemorrhage either."

(Y/n) nodded, feeling Ashton sighing in relief beside her before he leant over to press a longing kiss to her temple. That was good news. One of the first things they'd been told was that it looked like her waters might have broken which had been frightening to hear.

"I'm not in labour?" She was almost afraid to ask, but surely if she hadn't lost a lot of fluid, then she might not be in labour.

The nurse's smile was kind and calming as she shook her head.

"Not definitively; you barely started to dilate, maybe one centimetre at best which is safe for now, but baby is low down. We'll keep you in overnight just to be safe, but you'll need to be on bed rest to be safe."

(Y/n)'s lips parted and her head shook as she tightened her hand around Ashton's, unsure who to look at now. "I can't."

"You have to." Ashton's response was automatic and made (Y/n)'s lips curve into a frown as she stared up at him. The couple barely heard the nurse excuse herself on the errand of finding (Y/n)'s bloodwork results so they could talk more about that in a while. Clearly she was giving them a moment alone to talk.

This was good news and bad at the same time. (Y/n) was relieved she wasn't in labour, although clearly she had been on the verge of going into labour. She didn't want that, but bed rest wasn't an option either. She couldn't do that, it just wasn't going to work.

"No… no I'll just have to slow down, stay on the bus or in the dressing room. It- it's not like I'd be doing much anyway, I'm not the one on stage."

It wasn't like (Y/n) was part of the band, her job wasn't to be up on the stage performing each night. If it was then she could fully agree, she couldn't do that in this state of health. But she wasn't. She was on this tour as Ashton's wife, she was supporting him and here so she could be with him and they wouldn't be apart, especially not at the later stages in her pregnancy.

She could take it easy, spend the days resting on the tour bus or in whatever hotel they might stay in. They could confine her to the dressing room and instead of watching the shows and being around the excitement and adrenaline and the overpowering music, she would listen from afar and rest. She wouldn't be doing too much if she just tagged along and mostly sat down, even if that didn't feel like something (Y/n) would be able to do very well.

She would certainly try her best, but going home or going on bed rest wasn't a true possibility.

The look Ashton was giving her made (Y/n)'s heart do summersaults and she felt the baby flutter with the adrenaline they both felt. He had that pointed look on his face, pointed chin, pursed lips and his teeth biting down on the corner of his mouth. Eyes constricted and focused solely on her as he tightened his hold on her hand.

"Baby," he seemed to sigh through the word, pinching the bridge of his nose with his free hand before he looked back down at her. "No you can't, you heard what she said-"

"I'm not- I'm not going home on my own Ash." Alarm shot through her voice that wavered with the threat of tears.

Going home wasn't an option. (Y/n) didn't want to travel home on her own when she felt like this, nor did she want to stay home alone. Bed rest couldn't be possible that way and she wouldn't stay home alone with no one around her or no help, not to mention being there without Ashton. She couldn't do it. The thought alone was terrifying and sent her heart into a frenzy enough to reckon with a heart attack.

Seeing the tears welling up in her eyes made Ashton's heart lurch up into his throat and his stomach tightened. Within an instant his arms were around her, cradling the back of her neck and the other arm swooping around her waist, reeling her into his chest and abdomen like he was trying to fuse them together.

He merged his lips with the top of her head, nestling into her hair and breathing in her scent as he felt her face press tightly into his chest until her nose was squashed against his sternum.

The last thing Ashton wanted to do was upset her; he was trying to look out for her. He was trying to keep her and their baby safe and well. They were his priority. This tour didn't matter in comparison with what was right here in his arms; his family.

"You're not going anywhere on your own, baby." He soothed, the words a deafening promise because of the truth wrapped around them.

He didn't mean it like that. He wasn't trying to imply that (Y/n) should go back home on her own and stay home while he finished the tour with the band. Ashton would never do that, he couldn't part from her and especially not now, not with this news.

His mind was on overdrive at the fact that (Y/n) had almost gone into labour, that she had just started to dilate which was a bad thing. Labour was going to be early now, it might not be today or this week or next week, but (Y/n) wasn't going to make it to full term.

No way was Ashton going to tell her to go home alone and he would be there when he couold or when this part of the tour ended. If she went home he meant that he would be going home with her. If (Y/n) needed to be home on bed rest then that's where they would go. The rest of this tour would just have to be delayed until (Y/n) had the baby and Ashton knew his family were safe and well.

"You said you'd need me, and I'm right here. I promised I'd be with you through everything, didn't I? We'll just have to figure something out. It's okay."

He would talk to the guys and to their management and tour team, he would figure something out. Whether that be the tour taking a break now and delaying the rest of the shows until after the baby was born. Or whether they could figure out some way to keep (Y/n) close but well rested and safe. They would sort something out.

(Y/n) let her hands settle on his shoulders, thumbs brushing over the material of his leather jacket which reminded her of the kind of protective jacket to be worn when riding a motorcycle. Not that that was what Ashton was going to go and do today.

"No, but thank you." He punctuated each word with a kiss to her cheek until her eyes were bashfully looking down at his chest, unable to keep eye contact.

Ashton appreciated the thought and gesture, he would never expect (Y/n) to drop him off when he went out, especially when she wasn't even joining him tonight.

After another kiss to her cheek, then a peck to her lips, he continued. "Cal's getting an Uber and swinging by here to grab me on the way."

(Y/n) nodded and moved her hands from his shoulders so her arms were curved around the back of his neck instead. Her head inclined back a little so she could look up at him properly.

That did seem like an easier option than any of them getting lifts from friends, and none of them could drive tonight, not when they were going out for drinks. An Uber was an easy task, and Calum lived nearby so it was better to share the ride than to all travel separately.

"Well have fun."

She tried her best to hide the relief from her voice at the fact that she wasn't going along with them.

The band were all heading out for a night out. Nothing big or special, no parties or huge social gathering or close family and friends. Just the four of them going for a few drinks and perhaps wandering to a club in the process.

That wasn't (Y/n)'s idea of fun and if she had been extended an invitation, it would have been politely declined. She wasn't one for getting drunk or going partying or dancing in clubs. She would much rather go watch a film or stay home with a book and have a night in.

"I'll see you when I get back… if you're still up." Ashton's lips quirked up into a grin that flashed his teeth and (Y/n) found herself smiling along with him.

He didn't know what time he would be back, it all depended on what stuff and nonesense the band got up to tonight and how drunk they all got. Ashton knew when to call it a night, he knew when he'd had enough and when he needed to draw the line and make his way home, but he doubted very much that he would be home before eleven o'clock, unless something happened.

Either way, he would see (Y/n) when he came home, and if she was asleep then he would do his best not to wake her.

"See you soon."

Sleep wasn't going to be possible tonight.

Somehow (Y/n) knew that from the moment Ashton stepped out the house and the door closed behind him. She had stared after him as if waiting for him to step right back through the door, staring into space as she thought about what would happen when he came home.

He'd gone out drinking; (Y/n) had never seen Ashton drunk before.

The most she had witnessed was when he had a few drinks at home, and that was completely different. He had barely been tipsy, nothing close to being drunk and nothing like the level of drunk (Y/n) was used to being around in the past. The drunks she had dealt with in her life had been horrible, rude, sometimes violent.

What would Ashton be like when he'd had a few drinks in him? Would he be loud? Maybe he got angry or agitated or slightly aggressive. Perhaps he got overly emotional and became a ticking time bomb before he exploded. Would he be the kind of person who couldn't stand upright when he was over the edge? Would he be funny or nasty or horny?

(Y/n) had absolutely no inkling as to what Ashton would be like, because she knew from experience that people who were civil and kind when sober could become the nastiest of people after consuming alcohol. Their whole persona could change, they could have a completely different side to them that no one would believe unless they'd witnessed it for themselves.

She didn't know what Ashton's drunk persona would be like, and (Y/n) dreaded the thought of ever finding out.

for what felt like the hundredth time tonight, (Y/n) glanced down at her phone but as she expected, she'd received no new messages from Ashton since the photos he'd sent her nearly two hours ago.

Selfies of him and the band at the bar, or raising glasses together, or the one of him and Calum grinning so wide that their cheeks should have split and torn at the seams. The photos were lovely and it showed that Ashton was having a good time, which is what (Y/n) wanted. But she couldn't gage his persona from a photo. She couldn't tell how drunk he was from a photo, and she feared what he would be like when he walked through the door.

Her past experiences with drunken partners was horrid, the track record wasn't a good one. It was the part that (Y/n) hated about being in a relationship; seeing and being around her partner when they were drunk or going through an alcohol-induced rage.

The longer Ashton stayed out, the more (Y/n)'s worry started to spike.

It almost seemed strange to think that in all the months they had been together- and the fact that they had not long moved in together- she had never actually seen what Ashton was like when he was drunk. And tipsy was very different from drunk, tipsy could disguise what a true drunk was like, it could hide a whole other person from sight.

The thought of Ashton being anything like her ex when he was drunk made (Y/n)'s blood curdle in her veins and she found herself cowering back into the pillows.

Her arms stayed close to her chest binding the blanket over her middle while her knees tucked up towards her stomach.

Each time she tried to tell herself to get under the covers, to lie down and turn the lamp off and go to sleep, she couldn't manage it. The tv was playing some random animated movie in the background, but the volume was almost on zero.

She didn't want to go to sleep and be woken abruptly when Ashton came home. It felt safer to stay awake and wait up for him than to risk falling asleep and upsetting him. What if he expected her to stay up and he got angry or upset if he came home and she was asleep already? What if he started lashing out? (Y/n) would rather be awake to see than wake in fright if he started becoming violent.

Rob was an awful drunk.

Most of the memories (Y/n) had of being with her ex weren't the best, but at least when he was sober, he was amicable and usually pleasant to be around. It was once he'd had a few strong drinks in him that Rob became intolerable.

One drink was never enough, he could never stop at just one and by then he was on his way to being thoroughly vibrating with alcohol.

He was an aggressive alcoholic, he could never resist a drink and once he was drunk, (Y/n) found herself facing a bully. A violent person who tended to lash out and hit the walls when he got upset, someone who kicked the doors if they were in his way or if she dared to close them to separate herself from him.

He was someone who would grab her by her hair because he knew it was an effective way to drag her towards him or throw her to the floor. Sometimes he would become so upset he started to cry instead of scream, and other times he shouted so loud that her ears would ring and she could do nothing to make him be quiet or calm down.

The night usually ended with (Y/n) locking herself in the bathroom, sleeping o the bath mat with a towel around her acting as a blanket. It was the only place with a good enough lock on the door that Rob wouldn't break down, and (Y/n) knew huddled up in that space, that she was safe from him.

Usually when the morning came around, Rob would either forget that she had spent the night in the bathroom or he would chose to ignore this fact altogether and pretend it didn't happen. He liked to pretend a lot of things didn't happen, that he wasn't living out Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde when he was sober and drunk, that he didn't evolve into something horrid when alcohol mixed into his system.

A gas burned at the back of (Y/n)'s throat and her frame jumped, shoulders hitting the headboard as she sat up straight as a ruler.

The front door had slammed closed. Ashton was home.

(Y/n)'s fingertips were turning numb, so much so that she could scarcely feel them anymore. Her hands were tingling and shaking with adrenaline and the fact that her blood was circulating in her chest and stomach, a fight or flight response of self- preservation.

Her knees dropped down so she was sat cross-legged on the bed and she found herself leaning forwards, straining her hearing and putting all her focus into trying to listen out for the sounds around the house. To try and work out what he was doing and if he was okay, judging his mood and behaviour by the sounds that she could hear.

It was rather hard to keep in focus when she could barely hear anything over the pounding of her pulse in her ears. She had to hold her breath for a good five seconds and slow down her breaths to a mellow rate to stop her ears from ringing and thundering.

She heard him laugh first, such a light and rather high-pitched sound before he said something else, sounding like "Yeah, back now." And so she figured he was on the phone to someone, maybe the band perhaps, telling them he was home safe.

Perhaps he wasn't that drunk after all.

It felt like a lifetime had passed before Ashton finally seemed to move and start to climb the stairs.

He was loud when he climbed the stairs, not as quick or light-footed as he usually would be. His feet seemed to crash against the floor and made (Y/n) wonder if he was wearing a pair of his thick leather boots. A thundering bash resonated up the stairs and she shuddered, unsure whether he had slipped and fell against the wall or the stairs or if he had lashed out and hit the wall. She wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer.

Her arms weaved tighter around her waist, hands pinching into the flesh of her upper chest just beneath her armpits until the skin burned and blood welled beneath the surface.

She loved Ashton so much. She loved every part of him and his persona and kind, generous personality. (Y/n) didn't want to have that dampened down and destroyed by bad memories of what he was like after a drink.

"Oh shit."

Another thud sounded in the hallway just outside the bedroom and (Y/n) cringed, closing her eyes for a few seconds as she imagined whether he had kicked something or just stumbled.

The moment the bedroom door opened, anticipation rolled through (Y/n) in such huge waves that she almost flopped back onto the pillows. The single touch of a feather could have knocked her down.

Shallow panting breaths thundered past her chapped lips and her eyes dilated like the lens of a camera, focusing on Ashton as he made his grand appearance into the room.

His hair looked like it was electrified, each natural sand-coloured curl was crimped and some were stuck to his damp temple with sweat. It only seemed to electrify the brightness in his hazel eyes, but he wasn't close enough for (Y/n) to properly look into his eyes. To see if he had that drowsy, far-away look in them that gae away how drunk he was. Rob's eyes were always bleak, half-lidded and distant when he was over the edge or on the verge of alcohol poisoning.

"Hey," a smile took over Ashton's features and made dimples crease in his cheeks as he nudged the bedroom door shut behind him.

"Hi, d- did you have fun?" (Y/n) seemed to breathe through the words, though she could barely take in a proper breath each time she tried. She had to force herself to gasp, to suck in air so the light-headed feeling wouldn't overwhelm her or make her pass out.

"Yeah, yeah it was a good night. M- Michael's still going strong." He wafted his hand near his head to imply that Michael was still out enjoying what was left of the night. Though Ashton was unsure how he was still drinking. "Miss me?"

It took him a good minute to shrug his arms out of his leather jacket that felt like it had shrunk during the course of the evening, but that was just his inhibitions and coordination giving in to the alcohol. Once he finally peeled off what felt like a second layer of skin, Ashton shrugged the jacket onto the chair in the corner.

The smile still graced his lips as he moved towards the bed, pressing his hands down to steady himself so he didn't face-plant the mattress.

But when Ashton lifted his head and finally got a good look at his partner, the smile that had been stuck on his face for most of the evening finally started to falter at the sides and fade away. She looked like she was shrinking away from him.

With slumped shoulders he sank down onto the end of the bed, relieved to be sat down and to give his sense of balance and coordination a break. He leant over, one hand still pressed down into the mattress and he was one second away from trying to crawl on the bed towards (Y/n), when something made him stop.

She looked frightened.

Her arms were encased so tightly around her middle that Ashton was sure she was about to cut off her breathing. And she was pushing back into the pillows like she was trying to glue herself to the headboard. It looked like she wanted as much space between herself and him as possible, and the mere thought of that being true made bile rise in the back of his throat.

It was as if Ashton had been doused in cold water. Shivers tore through his frame and he pushed himself back so he was sitting up straight, eyes narrowing and constricting as he observed his partner with unfiltered concern and panic.

"What? Baby what's wrong?"

He didn't receive an answer, just that same unsettling look and those eyes that wouldn't meet his. Those eyes that kept roaming him from top to bottom like she was analysing for something, but never at his eyes, like she didn't dare meet his gaze in case he said or did something. Although what she thought he might do, Ashton had no idea.

Worry continued to surge through him in such crashing tidal waves that he found it hard to keep breathing himself, almost matching her shallow pants breath for breath.

"Have- have I done something… you're looking at me like- like you're scared."

He didn't dare ask or say that she looked like she was scared of him because the mere thought was making Ashton's heart constrict. And he didn't want to say that to then have (Y/n)'s expression prove him right. But that was how she seemed. The way she was shrinking away and backing up from him, the way she wouldn't meet his eyes yet kept observing him like that, it was like (Y/n) was waiting for him to lash out or say something cruel.

And she didn't know what to say. (Y/n) didn't know how to answer that when no words or ideas or anything seemed to form or fathom in her mind. All she could think was that this wasn't how Rob was like when he came home from a night out.

At any moment, she was expecting Ashton to shout, to raise his voice and go red in the face with aggression and fury. She was waiting for him to reach out for her, to tangle his hands in her hair or tell heer how stupid she was being and try to knock some sense into her.

Before she could stop herself, the words "Are you drunk?" were tumbling from her lips.

Asking Rob something like that was always a fearful thing because even if (Y/n) meant it in an inquizitive and kind way, it was always seen as an accusation. She had learnt not to say things like that, but clearly her instincts had been forgotten this time around.

But Ashton didn't look angry. The words didn't seem to offend him, if anything he seemed to think it was a natural question because his expression remained concerned and didn't drift into anything resembling anger or annoyance or down-right furious.

"Drunk-ish, but I'm not paraletic. I'm still with it," his hand motioned near his head and then held out at his side to make his point clear. He might be drunk, but he wasn't bladdered or in any horrible state where he wouldn't remember this conversation in the morning.

"Oh," (Y/n) nodded, though her gaze focused on her lap like she was sure there would be some sort of anger directed at her at any given moment.

She looked like she had calmed down a little, and Ashton dared to shuffle a bit closer and move towards the middle of the bed rather than perching here on the edge. He didn't want to get too close and have her look at him with those frightened doe eyes again, but he didn't want to feel so far away when they were talking.

He sat cross-legged in the middle of the bed, one arm draped over his thigh and knee while his other hand reached out for her. He was careful, tentative as his fingers ghosted her arm before gently sliding round to curl over her hand that seemed to be gripping and pinching her upper chest. As gently as he could, Ashton tugged her hand away from her chest, resting their entwined hands on her lap as he began to ghost his thumb along the side of her hand.

"Would that- would I scare you, if I was pissed up?"

That seemed to be the only logical thing that Ashton could figure out and reason for the way (Y/n) was acting, the way she was looking at him. She had been fine with him before he went out, so it stood to reason that she was anxious now because she thought he was drunk, because she was afraid of how he would act if he was.

(Y/n) nodded, keeping her eyes focused on their entwined hands so she didn't have to look up at him.

"I was expecting you to be… to be different, a different version of you, when you're drunk."

"Why? Who said I'm a bad drunk?" A slight twinge of hurt crept into Ashton's voice, but it wasn't because of or aimed at (Y/n).

Had someone told her he wasn't a good person when he was drunk? What had they said about him? Who would tell her something like that? Ashton wasn't that kind of drunk, sure he could be cheesy and get the giggles even during a serious situation. He got sleepy a lot as well, but he wasn't angry or violent or rude when he was drunk, not in the slightest.

(Y/n) tightened her grup on his hand, finally looking up at him as she shook her head intently to calm him down. She didn't want him believing anyone had spoken badly or rudely about him when that wasn't the case.

"No one, but that's usually what happens."

That wasn't what Ashton was expecting. For a second he stared at her with wide eyes and his lips parted, about to tell her that she was wrong, that he didn't usually act like that, but then it dawned on him.

She wasn't talking about him. (Y/n) didn't mean that this was what usually happened with Ashton because for one, no one had told her as much and two, he had never actually been drunk around her or acted badly because of it.

"Baby I don't understand."

He sounded so sincere yet so confused, like he was shrouded in darkness and needed (Y/n) to hold a light out towards him, to show him the way and the truth.

Again (Y/n)'s eyes wouldn't meet Ashton's as she tried to explain. "Rob was never the same when he was drunk, I had to be careful around him."

"Who's Rob?"

"My ex."

That was what Ashton expected to hear, though he still had to ask just to make sure. The conversation of exes had always been brief, something that came and went as quick as a change in the wind. Ashton wasn't always one to talk about his past relationships or how they made him feel, and (Y/n) had never brought it up other than to say she didn't get along with her ex.

With his teeth biting down into his lower lip, Ashton looked down at their joined hands and began to brush his thumb across the side of her hand, creating pins and needles in his wake.

"What was he like, after a drink?" He was almost afraid to ask, and he wasn't quite sure he wanted the answer, though deep down Ashton knew he needed it. He needed to know what was going on, why (Y/n) was so reserved and afraid and what it had to do with her past.

"Nasty." There was no need for thought or comprehension, the word left her lips without a second to think.

It was the one word that made sense, the one way (Y/n) could think of to describe what Rob was like. Because without ever seeing Rob when he was drunk, Ashton would never see the full extent or know the deepest levels Rob would sink to when he was like that.

"His eyes, there was always a strange hazy look in them when he'd had a few drinks. He got loud, always shouting like he'd gone deaf… then he'd start to lash out. He'd kick the doors, hit the walls, he just got so angry."

Ashton took a deep breath to stop himself from saying something he shouldn't about this idiot of an ex.

With a little leap of faith he shuffled closer until his knee bumped hers and they were finally close, finally touching with no worries or threat separating them. He hadn't wanted to get too close before, in case the proximity made (Y/n) uncomfortable, that was the last thing Ashton wanted to do.

But she didn't pull away or look at him with that fright in her eyes. She didn't shrug away from his touch or look unhappy or worried when Ashton leant closer until their noses were millimetres away.

"Baby, did he ever hurt you?"

Once again, (Y/n) found herself staring down at their entwined hands, looking at the small 5SOS tattoo on the outside of Ashton's wrist. "Sometimes he would- he would grab me," her free hand moved to her hair, implying where he would clutch at her. "He only hit me once."

Ashton's upper lip curled like he was about to sneer at the mere notion that someone would dare do that to her, to make her so frightened and to go as far as to lash out and physically hurt her.

Something along those lines was on the top of his tongue but he kept silent when he realised (Y/n) was no longer looking down at their hands. She had turned her head, suddenly looking at her right shoulder and when Ashton followed her gaze, he realised she was staring at the scar that looked like a jagged S shape.

"I didn't duck in time, the picture frame caught me." When she closed her eyes, (Y/n) could still see that frame hurtling towards her. She could feel the frame smashing against her shoulder blade and see that large shard the size of her finger as it scratched and imbedded into her skin.

A horrified look took over Ashton's expression as he ran his free hand along his mouth and down his jaw, unable to look at the scar when it only prompted him to imagine what it had looked like at the time it was inflicted. It wasn't a childhood accident or a fall or a trip or the result of a game gone wrong or anything Ashton would of imagined.

"We never talked about exes much," Ashton murmured quietly. He preferred to express himself through songs than talking to others. Not to say that if (Y/n) ever asked him something, he wouldn't answer because he would, she could ask him anything.

But it didn't cross his mind to bring up the subject with her, exes just wasn't a topic of conversation they ever brought up.

Another thought suddenly seemed to cross Ashton's mind because (Y/n) found him staring at her so intently and with a rather high sense of urgency within his warm hazel eyes.

"Did you really think I'd be like that? That I'd shout or become violent after a drink?" There was no malice or irritation in Ashton's voice, just understanding and the smallest edge of fear, in case she said yes.

"I don't know, never saw you drunk before."

Deep down (Y/n) wasn't sure she believed Ashton would become just like Rob when he was drunk, but she couldn't shake that sense of fear that he would. That just maybe, he would be somewhat like that. After all, Rob was the only significant relationship she'd had before Ashton, not counting one or two people when she was in college. And her experience with him had been horrifying to say the least.

"Some people change after a drink, I didn't want you to be one of them."

Bolts of electricity shot through (Y/n)'s blood when Ashton lifted their entwined hands and pressed her palm against his cheek. The touch was so warm, so affectionate and loving that (Y/n) was sure her heart was going to explode. And the way he leant into the touch made her bones tingle.

"I'd never get like that with you. Never."

He could see now that it was a trauma response when she had backed away from him, when she had held herself so tightly and looked petrified when he came into the room.

It wasn't so much that she believed that Ashton would lash out, it was that she was used to someone having that reaction. It was what she was used to, and that made his stomach churn. She had been triggered and thought back to what she knew, what she had experienced and presumed would happen again.

Shying and backing away from Ashton was a self preservation reaction, a way to try and keep herself safe when she thought she was in a dangerous situation.

The very notion that this reaction was necessary in her past relationship, that she had every reason to back away and become frightened and try to hide herseld away when she was with her ex, it was horrifying to learn.

Ashton pressed a soft, warm kiss to the inside of (Y/n)'s wrist before he continued. "I tend to laugh a lot when I'm drunk, but I'm always me. I'd never be like that, disrespectful or cruel, and I'd never hurt you, not in any way. I promise."

Raising her other hand, she cupped Ashton's face between her palms and leant towards him until she was within reach of kissing him. The touch made her lips tingle and feel electrified and she felt his fingertips gliding along her forearms, not grabbing or clutching at her, just grazing; comforting.