Down in the Pitt

(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.

Turning right, (Y/n) headed into the dressing room and took a quick look around, but her eyes were always magnetically pulled towards her husband no matter where they were or what they were doing.

He was sat on the armrest of the sofa, knees parted to the sides and hands tapping away on his thighs as he sat slightly hunched forward.

The moment Luke glanced up and his eyes locked on (Y/n), a wide grin spread across his lips and it was clear by his expression that he was beckoning her towards him.

She made a beeline towards him, biting down on her bottom lip to try and dampen her smile that was threatening to take over her entire face from eye to eye and ear to ear.

As soon as she was within reach, Luke was leaning towards her and balancing his weight on the toes of his polished black shoes that were pressing down into the floor. His fingers hooked into the belt loops of (Y/n)'s jeans and with a swift tug, he pulled her towards him until she had to brace her hands on his shoulders so she didn't stumble and fall against him.

He pulled her close until she was stood in between his parted legs, his knees imbedding into her hips while his hands slithered around her waist. One palm pressing into the small of her back while the other hand rested higher near her shoulder blades. His fingers tracing the dip and curves in her spine like it was a path he was trying to figure out.

(Y/n) brushed her thumbs over his broad, pointed shoulders beneath the leather jacket he wore that matched the one she currently had on. Her fingers gripped tight as she leant forward against him, pressing into him while Luke leant forward and continued to balance on the edge of the arm rest.

He looked boyish and sweet when he tilted his head back and pressed his chin against the middle of her chest, digging slightly into her sternum. Those bright sparkling eyes stared up at her and (Y/n) knew in that moment that he could ask her for anything in the world, and she would do her upmost best to give him what he wanted.

She lifted one hand from his shoulder to tangle her fingers into his long black curls, wrapping them around her index finger and tugging slightly just to see his expression change and his eyes become dark and hooded.

"Redo my eyeliner?" He murmured the words so softly that they almost washed right over (Y/n)'s head.

And as he spoke, Luke batted his lashes and his mouth curved into a pointed grin. Giving her his best puppy dog eyes so that she would say yes and do as he'd requested.

The question made (Y/n)'s brow arch, though she did grin as she looked down at him, scrutinising his features to see whether or not he did in fact need some more eyeliner on. The black lines were visible beneath his lashes, but only just. Another layer would make the lavish green eyeshadow sparkling on his eyes stand out that much more.

"You know I'm a nurse, not a make up artist baby."

There was no chiding tone to (Y/n)'s voice, and she was already reaching for the eyeliner in the vast make up bag that was resting on the sofa next to Luke.

With one hand resting on Luke's shoulder and the other cupped beneath his chin, (Y/n) tilted his head back a bit more so his chin was no longer pressed up against her sternum. Her teeth chomped down on the inside of her cheek as she tried to be as accurate as possible whilst swiping the black pencil beneath his long lashes to make them stand out a bit more.

Luke grinned a bright smile, his eyes staring widely up at (Y/n) as he tried not to blink so she could finish her work.

"So if I fall on stage or pull a muscle, you can nurse me back to health."

A quiet hum left her lips before she pressed a sweet kiss to his lips as if sealing that promise.

(Y/n) was here as a supportive wife, to watch the show and see Luke hard at work. But if anyone needed medical attention, (Y/n) would be all too happy to step in and lend a hand. She was a nurse after all, and if someone needed help she couldn't stand back and do nothing; especially if it happened to be Luke who ended up hurting himself.

"Always." (Y/n) confirmed and punctuated the word with another kiss. "But please don't have a fall, I don't actually wanna work tonight."

The last thing she wanted was for Luke to get hurt or need her in a professional capacity. He was usually lucky not to have any slips or falls, though once or twice he had tripped but he never hurt himself. (Y/n) didn't want him to start now.

As Luke stared up at her, a bright smile worked its way onto his features and his eyes roamed up and down her frame, full of admiration for her.

Since he had chosen to wear a dark green shirt tonight beneath his leather jacket, (Y/n) had matched her make up accordingly to him. Her own eyeshadow was a vibrant shade of green with glitter sparkles over the top. She had eyeliner on too making her stand out just like him.

But it was her outfit that really made Luke smile; (Y/n) knew he loved it when their outfits fell in sync. It showed just who they were married to and that they were a team, that (Y/n) was proud and supportive of Luke because she was matching his style and here to support the show.

Luke loved the fact that (Y/n) was wearing her jacket which matched his, and the flared dark blue jeans she wore looked like his pale, faded blue denim jeans that always sat high and snug around his torso. And the high heeled boots she wore gave her a bit of triumph to the style and a bit of height like she was trying to match Luke's tall stature.

When she thought she felt him murmur something against her mouth, (Y/n) pulled back just enough to hear Luke better, their noses brushing together.

"It's true," he spoke quietly, tracing the tip of his finger up and down the length of her spine.

"What's that?"

Luke's eyes sparkled as they roamed up and down (Y/n)'s frame, taking in her outfit once again. "Everyone's a star."

The encore was loud enough that it was chorusing out and vibrating through the walls like the arena had its own heartbeat.

The feeling was invigorating, it made (Y/n)'s blood fizzle in her veins like alcohol and she had to try and stop herself from starting to skip as she headed down the hall. She wanted to get back to the stage wings in time for the band to come off stage. (Y/n) liked to be there waiting for Luke when the show ended, she loved the energy that radiated off of him and being there as the band came down from the high that performing live gave them.

She wanted to tell him how much she loved the show, how she thought it was one of their best, even if she was a bit biased.

Her hands toyed with the hem of her jacket as she turned the corner and aimed towards the big double doors at the back, then she would be in the backstage area of the arena where the band would go once they headed off stage for the final time tonight.

At least the night had been full of fun and games.

(Y/n) had spent some of the show watching from the sidelines, then she decided to head down towards the crowd to watch from a secluded corner. That way she had been able to see the stage and see Luke head on rather than from the side wings. She could see him sing to the crowd, crouch down to be near them, how he interacted with everyone.

Just before the encore, (Y/n) had gone into the standing area of the crowd to lend a hand; someone had fainted.

It happened a lot in the standing crowds, people all squashed together, dancing, pushing and shoving and using all their energy. Plus their combined heat and how they would sweat, it made people dizzy. And obviously they all kept forgetting to buy or bring drinks with them leading them to be dehydrated.

(Y/n) hadn't needed to do much, get the young girl in the recovery position, make sure no one cramped or crowded round her. Once she came back around and had something to drink she was much better, though she had still been taken outside to recover before she no doubt hurried back in for the encore.

She could hear the end of Everyone's A Star blaring through the walls and it made her grin. She was only a few feet away from the doors at the end when a low whistle cut through the air and made (Y/n) pause and glance over her shoulder to look behind her.

A young girl, very early twenties by the look of her. Clearly one of the fans, one of the crowd, with the bright pink stars she had painted onto her cheeks, the 5SOS lanyard hanging around her neck and the tour merchandise shirt she was wearing over her cropped denim shorts.

Her hair was done into two intricate plats and there seemed to be glitter in her hair and (Y/n) knew Luke would of smiled if he saw her.

"Cool jacket; looks just like Luke's leather one." The girl commented and pointed towards (Y/n) and the outfit she was wearing. Though there was something about her tone that made (Y/n) uneasy, something pointed and sharp and almost irritated.

She stood just a few feet from the double doors, putting on her best smile for the young girl. Her hands interlaced in front of her and she nodded, still glancing back over her shoulder.

"Well they are a matching pair," her smile was bright as she took a step forwards, wanting to get backstage soon so she didn't miss Luke when he came off stage. "Thanks."

The first few beats of Youngblood were now bouncing off the walls and vibrating through (Y/n)'s ribcage. There wasn't long before the end of the show and everyone would be packing out of the venue.

"Matching?"

With a hum, (Y/n) turned on her sharp heels so she was facing the girl's direction. "Can I help you, are you looking for someone? I think this is a restricted area-"

"Then you shouldn't be here."

The response was quipped back with enough force to make (Y/n) take a deep breath.

So she was one of those fans. The type that didn't believe the band deserved to be with their partners, who should only be devoted to the fans. Didn't it make sense to this girl that (Y/n) was Luke's wife, was that not clear by the fact that (Y/n) had matching clothes, his matching style? That she had an all access backstage pass dangling from her neck?

The girl eyed (Y/n) like she was someone suspicious, someone to be wary of, and placed her hands on her hips. "What are you doing, trying to hound Luke?"

(Y/n) really didn't want to be that person. She really didn't want to be the wife who argued with the fans.

It was different when she was at work, because she used her maiden name; no one at the hospital knew who she was married to or what her personal live involved, that her life involved this kind of magic and glitter.

The odd times that (Y/n) and Luke had been out and bumped into a few fans, they had always been kind towards (Y/n). They smiled, they were overly appreciative when she offered to take a picture of them with Luke, some even talked to her and asked her questions. Clearly this was not going to be one of those times; this girl wasn't that kind of fan.

She seemed to be the hounding, overly concerned about the band as if she were one of their close friends, one of their protectors.

"I don't think he'd see it that way…" as she trailed off, (Y/n) raised her left hand to flash the ring sat neatly on her ring finger.

Usually (Y/n) wore her engagement and wedding rings on her finger because they weren't suitable for work. Being in the ER meant constantly putting on and wrenching off latex gloves, washing hands and using sanitiser. Her rings would cut through the gloves and be a risk of contamination, so (Y/n) hung them lovingly on the chain around her neck that used to belong to Luke.

It also meant that no one in the ER knew she was married, since she used her maiden name and her rings were never on display.

But for the last three days (Y/n) had been on a running stretch of days off, and it gave her the perfect opportunity to put her rings back on her finger, where they belonged. It also made Luke happy to see them because he was always wearing his ring and he loved to see (Y/n)'s sat neatly on her finger where he placed them.

"It was nice to meet you, but you should probably head back to the arena now."

With a wave of her hand in the other direction, (Y/n) turned back around and headed towards the double doors that would lead her backstage. She needed to get back now, the song was almost finished, and she wanted to see her husband. Who she had every right to be around, contray to what this girl might think.

Her badge swiped against the lock and she headed through, seeing a few of the moving crew starting to pack up already, getting a headstart so they could get everything out of the arena as soon as possible.

It all happened so fast that (Y/n) could barely register what was going on.

A hand on the back of her neck near her shoulder blades, a forceful shove just as she stepped through the doors that sent her heels scraping against the floor as she stumbled forwards, trying to regain her balance. And then a horrible yelp as the girl seemed to lunge at her.

She had moved fast, faster than (Y/n) would have anticipated because she had managed to stride across the corridor in less than three seconds and reach (Y/n) just before the door closed and locked her out of this limited access area.

Words flew past the girl's lips that (Y/n) could barely make sense of, especially with the way her blood was pumping through her ears and making her head vibrate.

"He shouldn't be with someone like you."

(Y/n) spun on her heels, again, just in time to deflect a hand that was about to slap her.

"You're not good enough."

A pair of hands settled on (Y/n)'s shoulders and shoved her backwards. "You're not one of them."

(Y/n) resisted the urge to respond with 'and neither are you' because arguing such a silly point wasn't going to make this situation any better. This girl was clearly upset, she took the No.1 Obsession song to another level and (Y/n) didn't want to start giving her more ammunition to keep fighting like this.

She seemed to take five steps back and the girl simply lunged with one fierce leap and was in front of her again, trying to push, hit and whack at (Y/n). It wasn't clear whether her intention was to hurt (Y/n) or just to keep pushing her back, perhaps even to push her out and try and get (Y/n) out of this backstage area where the girl deemed she didn't belong.

"Please- that's enough!" (Y/n) rose her voice only so the girl could hear her and try and take note of her words. "This isn't helping anyone-"

(Y/n) raised her arms in front of her face and stepped back, her Respect training kicking in which had to be refreshed every two years. The training that taught them how to get out of tricky situations, how to protect themselves without fighting back because they weren't allowed to lash out or become physical with anyone, even if they were being attacked in the ER.

The last thing (Y/n) wanted ot do was hit this girl and actually fight her, that wasn't going to help and it wouldn't do the band any favours. She could just imagine the headlines if this got out. Luke's wife fighting with an obsessed fan backstage.

She could hear voices.

As she backed up, (Y/n) tried to look around, to gage where they were coming from while she realised something else; she could no longer hear the band. The show was over, the music had quietened down significantly to an audio track playing through the speakers to serenade the fans as they left. The walls of the arena were no longer pulsing and vibrating with the live music; the band would be backstage at any moment.

"You need to stop." There was a deafening, certain tone to (Y/n)'s voice as her hand collided with the girl's wrist, smacking her arm away in a defence mechanism to prevent herself from being punched this time.

Her body propelled towards the left, trying to aim for the steps that led towards the stage because she could hear laughter and pounding footsteps. If she reached the band then maybe this girl would stop.

Maybe she wouldn't keep fighting if she realised that the band were nearby and she could see them. That they would witness her trying to attack Luke's wife, which would really set them against her. And she wouldn't want the band to be upset with her, not if she was as obsessed with the band as (Y/n) thought she was.

Luke's name was on the top of (Y/n)'s tongue and she just caught a flash of emerald green and a wisp of black curls out the corner of her eye before her vision went white.

Rough hands landed on her shoulders, nails digging into her jacket and wrenching her back so fast that she lost her footing. All the air expelled from her lungs in a soundless scream, a punch of air that nobody could hear or understand.

One boot went flying into the air as (Y/n)'s balance went off-kilter, her body wavering backwards where the girl was dragging and pulling on her. But when the girl shoved her with a hiss of words that (Y/n) couldn't hear due to the panic blocking her mind, everything blacked out.

Her body swooned to the left, stomach lurching into her throat and eyes snapping closed as she fell with a hard bang.

This time (Y/n) did scream with what little air she had left in her lungs when her body hit one of the sound boxes with a resounding bang that echoed right up to the ceiling. The edge of the box slammed into her chest beneath her arm and the resounding snap shot through (Y/n)'s whole skeletal system and made her brain turn to mush.

Her head hit the floor with a thump that rattled her brain and her arms seemed to jerk and spasm against her chest as she flopped onto the floor on her side. A mess of trembling limbs and stuttering breaths, eyes rolled to the back of her head and hair fanned across her face like curtains trying to shield her and give some sense of dignity.

"Jesus- what the fuck are you doing?!"

The jet black sunglasses that had been perched on the bridge of Luke's nose were thrown to the side, landing carelessly on one of the many equipment units as he set into a run. The slight heel on his shoes clicking against the tiled floor as he went, hands clenched into fists as he aimed for his wife.

As soon as he was close enough, Luke wrenched up the flared denim around his knees so he could slam down on the hard floor and hunch over (Y/n)'s trembling frame.

He had no idea who the girl was standing just to his left. Clearly a fan, she had to be with the outfit she was wearing and the face paint and the top, but that didn't answer his multitude of other questions. Why was she here? How did she get backstage? What was her problem with (Y/n)? Why was she attacking his wife?

"Oh! Oh, I-"

"Get away from my wife."

Luke's tone was clearly one that startled the young girl because she took a stumbling step backwards. Shocked by his words and the way that he held his left arm out towards her to keep her a good distance away from him and more importantly, from (Y/n).

He heard Calum's harsh footsteps bursting forward as he uttered "We need security!"

It didn't take long for their security personal to crowd round and once they saw (Y/n) laid on the floor and the young girl looking rather horrified with Luke keeping her at bay, they knew what to do.

She shrieked when they caught her by the arms just before she had chance to turn and bolt. And once they were pulling her back to detain her, both legs were swinging in the air and she was practically screaming as if she were the one who had been assaulted.

"She shouldn't be back here." Michael pointed towards the doors, hinting for them to get her out of here. This was a restricted access zone, this was where the band and their families remained after shows and where all their equipment and the stage and crew stayed.

They couldn't have fans back here, especially not ones that were violent and lashed out against their families like this.

"Me? No I- I should- let go of me! She's the one who doesn't belong here!" Her hands tried to lash out and wave in (Y/n)'s direction, who was trying to blink back into focus and do her best to sit up.

"She's family."

The girl's shrieks and yells of protest could be heard even after she was escorted out, probably to be detained somewhere until they could get management down here and handle the situation.

Luke tried to simmer down his temper that was rising within him, not wanting to boil over when he needed to make sure (Y/n) was okay and stay here with her.

He felt (Y/n)'s hands trembling as she reached out for him and tried to grasp onto his biceps as he hovered over her. His hands slid around her waist, carefully easing her up from the floor so she was sitting upright.

"Baby, talk to me. Are you okay?" Concern lit up Luke's voice as one hand gently rested beneath (Y/n)'s chin, tilting her head back while his thumb traced her lower lip to try and get her attention.

He could see the tears flooding down her face, though she didn't seem to be consciously crying, more like it was a reaction than anything else.

When she shook her head Luke felt like his heart had been struck with a knife and he watched as she moved one shaking hand to hover over the right side of her chest.

"I h- I heard a snap," her watering eyes made Luke let out a shaky breath as he tried to look down and check her chest, but he was no medic or nurse, not like she was. If (Y/n) had heard a snap and she thought there was something wrong, that she might have broken a rib or two then she was most likely correct.

"Your ribs?" He confirmed, biting his lip as (Y/n) nodded, but she couldn't press her hand down on her chest properly. One little touch was enough to make her lungs seize up, she couldn't very well assess herself.

"Might n- need an X-ray." She mumbled before lolling her head forward so that her temple was pressed into Luke's shoulder.

She felt his lips smothering the top of her head, one arm delicately winding around her waist while his other hand cupped the back of her head, holding her to him as he breathed into her hair.

"The tour bus won't get out of that mayhem for ages, can we comandeer one of the ambulances?" Calum looked between the couple and one of the arena crew for confirmation.

The tour bus was stationed at the back of the arena, but the car park was going to be packed tight with everyone trying to get out and go home. It would take some people up to an hour to get out of the car park, and the band couldn't sit and wait in that mayhem to try and get (Y/n) to the hospital for a chest X-ray.

But they had ambulances here, lots of them stationed all around the venue in case someone took ill and needed quick transport to the ER. Surely one of them could give them a ride, this was a legitimate medical emergency and the ambulance would get fast-tracked out of here.

"We'll find the paramedics."

It wasn't until (Y/n) and Luke were in the back of the ambulance that she squeezed his hand and drew him closer so she could whisper, "You know where they're taking us, right?"

It sounded half like a question and half like (Y/n) was asking for reassurance or confirmation, to which Luke nodded solemnly.

He knew where this ambulance was going to go; it would take them to the nearest hospital, and that would be the Pittsburgh training medical centre. Exactly where (Y/n) worked, in emergency medicine. The only saving grace Luke could think was that at least it was almost midnight. The night shift would be in play, and (Y/n) didn't do many nights. Most of her colleagues should have gone home by now so the gossip mill shouldn't be as bad as what it would be if this had happened during the daytime.

"I can walk in," (Y/n) tried to sit forwards on the gurney when the ambulance finally came to a stop, but she didn't get very far.

The paramedic pressed his hand lightly to her shoulder to keep her sitting back against the propped up gurney, and Luke's free hand which wasn't tangled with (Y/n)'s was quick to rest on her thigh and lightly push her leg down. Not giving her a chance to swing her legs over the side of the gurney and try to stand up.

"Sorry, we've got to wheel you in and transfer. Procedure." The paramedic noted with a shrug as the driver came to open the back door for them.

"You know that," Luke murmured quietly and gave a squeeze to her hand as he hunched down once he was stood up so his head didn't hit the roof of the ambulance.

He hopped down first, waiting patiently and idly at the bottom of the ambulance for them to get the gurney down so he could take (Y/n)'s hand again.

The band were heading back to their hotel- since Luke was the only one who actuslly resided here and didn't need to book a room for this tour date- and all three of them said they would wait up for news to know how (Y/n) was and said to call if they needed anything.

A shiver crawled down (Y/n)'s spine when the gurney was wheeled through the doors and the rush of the Pitt settled around her as if she had turned up for an extra night shift.

She could feel Luke's hand tightening in hers as he stuck close to her side, eyes round as he took in the place he had heard so much about but never actually visited. He had no need, he was never a patient here and this wasn't the kind of job where he could pop by for a flying visit, not when he knew his wife would always be busy and rushed off her feet.

(Y/n) felt like she was an armed robber because the moment they headed inside, it was like all eyes were immediately upon them.

It was a mixture of many different things. A few colleagues noticed her, recognised her, and stared in surprise. Others seemed to clock her and Luke's lavish, brightly styled outfits and immediately stared to find out who hey were and what was going on. Curiosity bright within their eyes. And then there were those colleagues who recognised Luke, those who knew exactly who he was and what he did for a living, and stared with jaws almost dropping to the floor.

"What have we got?"

Even though it was Shen who approached them first, (Y/n) knew just from one look that he recognised Luke immediately.

The way his brows rose, that sly smile that crept over his features which he tried to hide behind a clipboard he clearly wasn't paying attention to. He was looking between (Y/n) and Luke, not wanting to stare but also wanting to get the gossip from (Y/n) because this wasn't normal. One of their bright, day shift nurses didn't just come in here with a celebrity attached to their arm.

This was proper gossip, and Shen wanted to be involved.

"Female, twenties, suffered a fall and has suspected broken ribs and possible concussion. BP slightly elevated at one-forty over eighty-six. Dose of morphine administered on route."

When Shen stepped closer, (Y/n) brought Luke's arm a bit closer so she could cling to it like it was a comfort blanket. She had to sit forward to ease the pain in her side, slouching down or lying back made her ribs feel like a weight was pressing down on them and made it harder to breathe normally.

"Where's Abbot?" Her eyes darted around for the attending she didn't usually work under.

On the few night shifts she had done, (Y/n) had gotten along well with Abbot, they were always talking in passing when their shifts crossed or the few times they got to work together.

"I suppose I'll go find him for you."

She heard Luke murmur "Is that the attending?" in her ear and she nodded, shivering when she felt him press a quick peck to her cheek. He had his free hand in his jean pocket now, his hip pressed up against the gurney since they were waiting here for the time being until they were directed to a free room.

His lips merged with the top of (Y/n)'s head after a moment, so his eyes could roam around whilst he contented himself with giving (Y/n) some affection and breathign softly against her hair. But his attention quickly diverted when he heard a little gasp behind him.

His brows raised in surprise and he turned, hands still grasped in (Y/n)'s and the other in his pocket, as he took in a rather young and exhausted looking girl.

Her hair was in a ponytail that was frazzled and coming loose around her features, she had wide brown eyes and small studded earrings that shone in the illuminescent lights. Her mouth was hanging open, hands digging into a paper file and her jacket seemed to be hanging off of one shoulder, but she wouldn't look anywhere but at Luke.

"Oh- oh my God, you- you're Luke." Victoria's jaw seemed to hang towards the floor as she pointed at Luke, as if he nor anyone else knew what she was talking about.

It was clear that she was now buzzing with energy whereas before she had been about ready to collapse from utter exhaustion.

Her eyes seemed to dart from Luke to (Y/n), then back to him like she thought he was a figment of her imagination.

"Hi," he smiled and nodded his head in her direction, trying to be kind because he could tell from the way that she was looking at (Y/n) that she knew his wife. He didn't want any of her colleagues to think he was rude.

"You know a celebrity?" Victoria whispered to (Y/n), amazement flooding her voice as she looked utterly starstruck.

(Y/n) felt the great need to drop her head into her hands and hide her face from them all. This was why she never let on that she was married and tried to keep her personal life to herself. No one here in the Pitt had ever seen her dressed up like this, they probably didn't know she had clothes or a style like this.

Much less that her husband had even more of a flare to his style than she did.

"Hey kid, look at you all dolled up."

A small glimmer of relief lit up (Y/n)'s chest that was still vibrating and aching with each shallow breath she took, when Dana's voice hit her ears. The charge nurse aimed towards her, a look of surprise written across her face and a smile curving at her lips. She brushed a loose piece of hair behind her ear, one hand on her hip as the other rested on the gurney and she leant in towards (Y/n).

She seemed to look the young nurse up and down, taking in the jeans, the thin heeled black boots, the make up and sparkling glitter over her face and the vibrant, boyant style to her hair that made (Y/n) look so different from her usual self. Different from the tame, plain-clothed nurse who kept her head down and had a kind smile for any patient she looked after.

When Dana lifted her head and clocked Luke in all his glamour, she rose a brow and looked back down to (Y/n).

They were two of a kind; a matching pair; made for one another.

"And what have you been up to on your night off?" There was an air of humour to Dana's otherwise sympathetic voice and (Y/n) glanced down for a second.

"We were at a concert, I took a tumble… fifth and sixth might be broken," her left hand hovered over her right side to indicate her ribs which caused Dana to whistle through her teeth.

"This your fella?" It was clear that Dana had clocked the engagement and wedding rings now clad on (Y/n)'s fingers, and her gaze drifted to Luke who knew exactly who she was just from one look. "You look like you outta be on stage in all that gear."

"People tell me I'm a star." He tried to curb down his grin at the look on Dana's face, and he stepped a bit closer to the gurney, leaning into (Y/n) a little more since he was stood on her left side, and not in danger of leaning on her damaged ribs.

By now there was quite the crowd gathering round, both to see who (Y/n) was with and see how dolled up she was. And because others had realised who Luke was and were trying to be inconspicuous as they snapped a few photos of him here in their ER.

"Hey, I didn't know you had so many fans on the night shift." Robby's voice broke through the rabble as he moved towards the gurney, rubbing his sore eyes.

It had been a long shift that they all wanted to end. There was a mixture of day and night staff here, some still logging incident reports and charting, some pulling double shifts because they were short staffed, and a few here from an earlier incident emergency. The day staff were slowly starting to trickle out now and head home, but not everyone had gone yet.

(Y/n) felt like telling her attending that everyone was crowding round for Luke, not for her. But she didn't get chance when Abbot made an appearance, and his eyes narrowed as he looked between Luke and (Y/n).

"You know the band?" Was the first thing that came out of Abbot's mouth, and it pulled a few concerned looks his way, especially from Luke. He expected the younger generation to recognise him, but not someone like Abbot.

"Band?"

"Don't you guys listen to the radio during your shifts? His music is all we listen to down here on the graveyard shift."

"He's like, a rock star." Shen's words which came from a distance, made (Y/n) smile because she could see the tinge of red that tainted Luke's cheeks when he heard that.

Wordlessly (Y/n) raised her left hand to flash her ring. Clearly it wasn't going to stay secret for long that she was here with a celebrity, and they were going to wonder why. It was about time they knew something about her personal life, though it would be a big surprise that she had been married to a celeb for a few years now and had managed to keep it a secret from them all.

When they all clocked the ring, and the adoring look in Luke's eyes as he stared down at (Y/n) rather than looking any of them in the eye, gasps and murmurs spread through the air.

It was pretty clear with their matching outfits that they were a couple, they had the same style, the same matching freak persona.

"Him? You're married to him?!" Excitement flooded Victoria's voice before she could tell herself to be quiet.

"Damn, how'd you manage that?"

(Y/n) felt Luke's free hand ghosting beneath her hair and his thumb traced along her neck until pleasant shivers were rolling down her spine. And when he bent forward and hid his nose and lips in her hair, she just about managed to hear what he whispered, despite that last question not being aimed at him.

As much as Ashton enjoyed coming up with new music on his own, it was better when he had someone around to listen to the melodies and bounce ideas back and forth with. And right now with (Y/n) being out, he was home alone, and Michael seemed to have rung just in time as Ashton wasn't too sure about this new song.

"Are you busy?" Michael spoke as if he hadn't heard or taken in what Ashton had said, and there was a nervous tone to his voice that made Ashton tense up immediately.

His eyes cast down to his phone though he wasn't sure why because it wasn't a video call but a regular phone conversation.

He could feel a frown forming on his lips; that wasn't the kind of tone he was used to and it made Ashton nervous when any of the band were anxious or upset. "Not particularly, why? What's up?"

"Right don't panic, but I'm with (Y/n) and she's alright now-"

"Now? She's alright now, what does that mean?"

He didn't like the sound of that. Saying she was alright now meant that she hadn't been alright earlier on, it meant something had happened or she was ill or something had gone wrong.

The guitar on his lap was quickly set aside on the cushion next to him and Ashton reached down for his phone, grappling to hold it closer to his face despite it being on speaker. He needed to hear Michael properly and figure out this situation and whether or not he had any need to panic.

"She passed out for a minute, but she's come back around and she's feeling a bit better. But we don't want her driving home, can you come pick her up, she's at our house."

Shudders crawled down Ashton's spine as he hastily got to his feet, uttering "I'm on my way."

He knew (Y/n) had said something about popping by Michael's place on the way home to see him and the girls for a bit, so it shouldn't have come as a surprise that (Y/n) was now at Michael's house. But it was worrying that she had passed out. (Y/n) wasn't prone to fainting spells or collapsing or feeling so unwell that she blacked out, it just wasn't like her.

He tripped oer his feet as he stumbled into the hallway, hurrying to put on his shoes before he remembered he was still on the phone.

"Why'd she pass out, what happened? You sure she's okay now?" He grabbed his keys from the side table and made his way out of the house, aiming for his truck, the phone still gripped tight in his fist.

"I don't know. One minute she was talking in the kitchen, then she was out cold. She still looks a bit drowsy to me."

Ashton wasn't sure what he had been expecting when he reached Michael's house, but (Y/n) seemed both better and somehow different to how he'd expected.

She didn't look as drowsy as Michael implied she had been earlier, though there was a faraway look in her eyes that were focused on something or nothing near the window. She was indeed awake and alert now which stopped Ashton's heart from racing and pounding like his bass drum on overdrive.

Her arms were coiled around her chest and her cheek was pressed up against the back of the sofa, one leg brought up near her stomach like she was trying to curl in on herself and become as compact as possible.

When he reached the sofa, Ashton went down on his knees and folded both arms over the armrest. His chin perched on top of his arm and a soft smile graced his lips when he looked up at her. He could see the tiredness behind (Y/n)'s eyes when she looked down at him, blinking in surprise as if she hadn't even heard Michael open the door or show Ashton inside.

When (Y/n) reached down and brushed her finger along Ashton's cheek, he sighed softly and leaned into the touch.

"Are you okay?"

(Y/n) resisted the urge to reach her hand up and rub her temple for what would hae been the hundredth time since she sat down in here, but the headache behind her eyes was one she wished to rid from her temple.

"Just a headache… and I think I jarred my elbow," her eyes cast down to her right arm as if to prove her point.

She wasn't sure what had happened. One moment she was in the kitchen being offered a drink, halfway through a conversation, and the next, her mind seemed to switch itself off. She woke up laid on her side on the tiled floor, Michael's concerned face hovering over her while the girls were ushered and taken out in the garden to play.

Her elbow must have caught on the counter or spasmed when she hit the floor because it felt stiff and aching, but it was a dull ache that (Y/n) could ignore and put to the back of her mind.

Her eyes locked back on Ashton when he reached out to curl his hand around her thigh as if gently trying to snag her attention back again.

"You scared me."

"Sorry."

Her eyes followed Ashton as he leant forward and pecked her thigh before he slowly got to his feet and extended his hands down to her. He wasn't looking for an apology, he knew (Y/n) couldn't help it, but that didn't mean he wasn't worried about her.

"Shall we go home?" When her hands slotted into his, Ashton carefully pulled her up to her feet.

He studied her for a minute when he saw that inquizitive look in her eyes and saw the way that she bit down on the corner of her mouth. There was something on her mind, something she wanted to say.

"I- I guess I'll leave my car here?" (Y/n) glanced over her right shoulder towards Michael who was stood just behind the sofa.

She had driven herself here after being out all morning, and now Ashton had come here to take her home. She had tried arguing with Michael, telling him she could drive herself home after a while when she felt better, but he wouldn't hear of it. He said that either he called Ashton to come pick her up, or he drove her home, it was her choice.

"Come by whenever you want to pick it up; when you're feeling better. You couldn't drive home feeling like that."

(Y/n) knew it wouldn't have been a good idea to drie herself home, but she didn't want to be an inconvenience to anyone. She would just have to get a lift back here tomorrow to come get her car and drive it back home.

Her head was still spinning when they said goodbye and headed out to Ashton's truck.

The drive home wasn't much better. (Y/n) kept her arms enveloped around her middle like she was giving herself a comforting hug and her head pressed against the window. The cold seeping through her skin and doing something to relieve the headache she was suffering from.

This day just kept getting better and better.

When she felt Ashton's hand curl around her knee and his thumb began to graze over her skin, she reached down and held onto his wrist, though she continued to stay quiet and stare aimlessly out the window.

Whenever he could, his eyes would leave the road for a few seconds to glance in her direction, but she was constantly staring out the window. Ashton knew something wasn't right, (Y/n) wasn't usually this quiet and distant, but he couldn't be sure whether it was down to feeling unwell and what had happened today, or something else entirely.

Ashton's eyes followed (Y/n) intently once they were back home and she headed inside. She looked like she was moving on autopilot, like she wasn't really thinking about what she was doing or where she was going.

She aimed for the living room and sank down on the sofa like her legs had given out on her. There was a strange look in her eyes, and Ashton's chest tightened when he watched her reach out for one of the cushions beside her and pull it to her chest. Her arms bound around it, pressing it into her middle like it was a teddy she was clinging to for comfort.

With a sigh he aimed towards her and perched down beside her, sitting close enough that his knee nudged into hers.

"Baby what's the matter? Do you feel sick?" Stretching his arm across, Ashton gently pressed the back of his hand against her temple in case she had a temperature.

She hadn't mentioned feeling or being sick and Michael only said she had passed out for a minute and came back around soon enough. But perhaps she had passed out because she was sick or coming down with something and if that was the case then Ashton would rather she took some meds, even went to bed if she felt that unwell.

He didn't like how little she was talking to him. He was used to (Y/n) telling him when she wasn't feeling great or seeking comfort in him.

When his hand dropped from her temple it moved to curl around her arm, both of which were compressed into the pillow like she was trying to mould it into part of her being.

For a few seconds (Y/n) continued to stare down at her hands, but then she finally lifted her head, although her gaze wouldn't meet Ashton's eyes when she spoke.

"Michael showed me the tour schedule you've all agreed on; you didn't mention it."

Her voice was quiet, like the words didn't matter and this was no big deal, but it was. It was to (Y/n). When Michael casually brought it up in conversation while (Y/n) had been playing with Lua, she thought she had misheard him. She had to feign innocence and pretend she probably forgot that Ashton had mentioned it, when really he hadn't said anything about it at all.

The schedule was already set, it wasn't a proposition from the way Michael was speaking, it was already made and set in stone. He'd shown it to (Y/n) when she asked, and she smiled and said it looked good, because it did. They were doing a full world tour again, well over a hundred shows on the list.

A frown worked its way onto Ashton's lips and he pulled his hand back so he could knot his fingers together and rest his hands on his parted thighs.

"I… I guess I didn't, why what's that matter?"

So maybe he hadn't said that it was all agreed on, but (Y/n) knew all about the tour, where they planned to go, that it was going to be a big one this time and start at the beginning of the year. It wasn't like Ashton had hid anything from her, he just hadn't shown her the complete list, he would have gotten round to it at some point when it crossed his mind and he remembered.

"You didn't show or run it past me, Ash. You didn't think I needed to know that you're gonna be on the road for most of the year."

Rubbing at her temple, (Y/n) turned to look at Ashton on her left while she straightened up and sat forward.

This really wasn't the time to be having this conversation, but he had asked what was wrong and this was what (Y/n) had playing on her mind. The fact that she hadn't been asked or even shown it before it was all agreed on. She was his wife, she thought it would have been curteous to be shown the dates and ask fi there were any that conflicted something important for her and Ashton.

"It's a world tour, babe, you knew it was gonna be a big one-"

"That- that's not my point." An ache built up behind her eyes that was so profound (Y/n) was sure she was going to be sick.

This time when Ashton reached out for her, she turned her back to him and curled further around the pillow, but it wasn't helping.

"Then what is?"

Her lege shook when she pushed up to her feet, leaving the cushion in her place. A numb tingling sensation spread down her legs right to her toes and she sank her teeth into her lower lip, trying to control the irritation rising within her that made her feel even worse.

There was a slight tremble in her hands when she headed into the kitchen and got the juice out from the fridge. Something with a bit of sugar might perk her up and make her feel better.

(Y/n) could feel Ashton's presence behind her as she poured a drink and took a few small sips, not wanting to down it just to overwhelm herself and throw it back up again. She didn't have to turn around to know he was right behind her, to know that he was close enough that she could almost feel the rise and fall of his chest and the tension that seemed to be radiating off of him.

"What's the issue here? This is my job, the cycle of it. Write the album, produce it then tour with it, it's no different to all the other times." There was a calm, composed tone to Ashton's voice because he wasn't trying to start a fight, he was just trying to understand what it was he had done wrong.

This was the way things were, the way it had always been and he couldn't see how it was any different or how it was causing a problem, but there was one because he knew (Y/n) was upset.

"My issue is that you didn't tell me, you didn't show me the schedule before you went and agreed on it." Why was that so much to ask? Why was it so hard to Ashton to fathom that (Y/n) would of liked to be asked, consulted, thought of first before he blindly agreed?

When she turned around with her hips pressing back into the counter and her glass held shakily in her hand, she found Ashton staring at her with narrowed eyes and an upturned upper lip.

"You'll be coming with me." There was a sense of urgency in his voice as he held his hands out in front of him like he couldn't make his point any clearer.

(Y/n) always came on tour with the band even before she and Ashton got married. It wasn't like she would be staying at home and he would be off in other countries with them both separated for most of the year. (Y/n) would be there with him, even if she couldn't stay for the whole tour, she would be there for a good majority of it.

They always worked it out, sat down and went through the dates and figured out when (Y/n) could be there. Her job was flexible and remote, she could work during the day and when they were travelling as long as she had internet signal to send emails and send all her work across.

Tears sprung up in (Y/n)'s eyes as her lips pinched together both to try and keep her composure and stop her from saying something she shouldn't.

She knew that even if work commitments meant she couldn't make all of the tour, she would be there for some of it. That still wasn't her point, it was that she hadn't been consulted and furthermore, she had seen all the tour dates and the breaks in between.

When Ashton shook his head as if to signal for her to say something and his hand stretched out towards her, she set her glass down and kept her hands gripping the counter behind her until it cut into her palms.

"I've seen the dates!" Her tone was exasperated and her shoulders began to shake from the force of trying to remain composed.

"So?"

"So I've seen when there will be breaks, when the tour will end. It's been perfectly worked around everyone else but you. Breaks for Luke's family dates, it ends right before Michael's girls birthdays, I know Calum and his sister's birthdays are during that two week break near the middle of the tour. You didn't ask me if there was any dates you needed to pencil in, any specific times you needed the tour to avoid."

It wasn't just herself that (Y/n) was upset for, it was Ashton too. Deep down she knew it wasn't intentional, but it had been worked perfectly around everyone but Ashton.

Luke's anniversary, his daughter's birthday, those dates happened to be during the breaks in between the tour dates. Michael's anniversary didn't have any tour dates on and the tour miraculously ended before both his daughter's birthdays meaning he could be home with them. Even Calum's special dates were accomodated.

But Ashton hadn't asked (Y/n) if there were any dates or anything she would need him to avoid, any dates that she had something pressing or had planned something that included him.

As much as she could understand the guys wanting to be home and present for their kid's birthdays, that didn't mean that Ashton couldn't be accomodated for as well. This tour was about all of them.

A deep sigh rumbled through Ashton's chest like a thunderstorm and his hand rose to run across his face while his other hand curled around his hip. When he opened his eyes again, they were intently focused on (Y/n) as if he were waiting for some kind of revelation.

"Go on, what date have I forgotten? Tell me."

A stray tear escaped (Y/n)'s eye as she shook her head. This wasn't how she wanted to have this conversation, this wasn't how she wanted to tell him and this wasn't her arguing with him that he had forgotten something, that wasn't what she was doing.

"It's not about you forgetting Ash. I need- I need you, okay? I'll need you… all those fucking dates on tour and I can't-" every emotion seemed to bubble up within (Y/n)'s chest until her throat felt clogged and she couldn't get the words out properly.

"Need me… what? I'll be with you, you'll be on the tour babe what-"

"The tour that's slotted around everyone else's family but yours." (Y/n) snapped back, hating how selfish it made her sound even as she said it and knew it was the truth.

Even Ashton seemed to know it because his shoulders slumped and his foot stopped its incessant tapping against the floor.

"It has to work around them, they've got kids to think about-"

"So will you I'm pregnant!"

(Y/n) clapped her hand over her mouth as soon as she said it, wishing she could take it back. She didn't want to tell him during an argument. She'd tried so hard to come up with a more endearing way to tell him, to give him some kind of surprise or present to open and reveal the news.

Telling him in the middle of a disagreement like this wasn't how (Y/n) was supposed to do it, but the words fell out before she could register them or contain them.

Luke and Michael weren't the only ones with families to consider. (Y/n) was pregnant now, she was going to have a baby and that would happen smack bang in the middle of this new tour which was why she had wanted Ashton to talk to her about the dates.

She would have given him some surprise with the news and then he could have talked to the band and worked out a better schedule. One that gave him some dates off for when (Y/n) would be due to give birth and then to spend some time with her before finishing up the tour. Now it had caused a conflict without meaning to.

When (Y/n) dared to open her eyes as she sighed through tepid breaths, she found Ashton staring directly at her like he had turned to stone.

There was a strangely blank expression on his face, like it had been wiped clean of all emotion. His pupils had expanded, blown wide until they were almost fully black with no other colour in them. His lips were parted, jaw hung slightly loose while he stood frozen, his hands still outstretched towards (Y/n) like he had been put on pause.

"You, you're…"

(Y/n) tried to get the right words to form in her mind as she nodded, an apology of coming outright with it like that, on the tip of her tongue when Ashton suddenly became unstuck.

Within the blink of an eye he was there in front of her, arms around her and lifting her with little effort until (Y/n)'s feet left the floor and she was at his mercy as he spun her around in his arms.

"Oh!"

She was quick to loop her arms hastily around the back of Ashton's neck, clinging to him to make sure she stayed in his arms and wasn't at risk of being dropped. Her lips instantly curved into a grin she couldn't hide, the tears still welling up in her eyes, but for a completely different reason this time.

"Really? You're really pregnant?" There was an air of astonishment in Ashton's voice as his wide eyes stared up at her, begging her to tell him that this wasn't some prank or a joke that had gotten out of hand. This was real, this was happening.

(Y/n) nodded again, unable to stop herself from gasping when Ashton shifted his arms around her with his hands finding purchase on the back of her thighs. He lifted her up higher until she was able- and had no choice but to wrap her legs around his torso, sitting on his hips as he held her against his chest and stared adoringly up at her.

His smile was so radiant that (Y/n) was sure she was going to be blinded, though she found herself closing her eyes the moment Ashton's mouth was on hers in a searing kiss.

"I didn't wanna tell you like that," she murmured quietly against his mouth, her fingers toying with the short curls at the back of his neck.

He hummed against her mouth but she wasn't sure if he had actually taken in or understood what she said. He was that intent on stealing all the air from her lungs and kissing her until she felt lightheaded enough that she was glad she was held up by his strong arms and not back on her own two feet.

"I'll be due before the tour reaches Sydney, and I don't really wanna give birth without you."

That was why she had been worried and had an issue when Michael showed her the dates. She was happy and fine to travel with the band, but that meant travelling when she was close to her due date. Then she would either have to give birth in a foreign country and travel the remainder of the tour with a newborn. Or she would have to go home and possibly risk having the baby without Ashton there by her side.

There was a look of alarm that flashed across Ashton's face when those words finally sunk in and he realised why this little argument had come about in the first place.

"Oh you're not doing that; you're not having her without me. Nope, no way."

(Y/n) grinned, stroking her finger up and down the back of his neck until he was shivering and tilting his head back into the touch.

But (Y/n) suddenly went over Ashton's words in her head and her eyes narrowed as she looked down at him. "Her?"

"Yeah, I reckon it's a girl; every kid so far has been for the band." He had a deep-rooted feeling that they were going to have a girl, that seemed to be the way with the band at the moment.

They were an all boy band who seemed to be having all girl offspring, it seemed only right that Ashton follow that tradition and that he would end up with a daughter too. It sounded right to him and he would bet his money on it.

(Y/n) murmured "Oh is that how it is," and stole another kiss from his lips, feeling better already.