War ⇔ Cashton ✓

Recovery

CALUM

When I wake up the next morning, I am achingly aware of the cold emptiness beside me on the bed, clearly indicating that Ashton's absence.

I slowly sit up, mumbling under my breath as I rub my eyes with my fists. As I open my eyes, Ashton's room filters into view, the familiar furniture and picture frames painting the corners of my vision. The sheets fall off my shoulders, causing goosebumps to rise on my skin, a shiver running down my back. My heart drops at the sight of Ashton's disappearance, considering I remember us falling asleep together last night.

I push the covers off my legs and sit on the edge of the bed, placing my feet on the ground. Right as I stand up, I hear a crash from inside Ashton's bathroom, sounding like something falling, the noise echoing throughout the room. I pause, my neck jerking towards the bathroom door at the sound. I quickly stand up and walk quietly over to the door, briefly contemplating knocking before twisting the doorknob.

As the door opens, I cautiously peek around the doorframe, scanning the interior of the bathroom shortly. I nearly miss the sight of Ashton pressed up against the wall, curled up with his face hidden in his knees. He's shaking, his broad shoulders trembling as his body convulses slightly with his cries.

For a moment, I just stand there, shock paralyzing my body as I stare at Ashton's almost unrecognizable form on the ground. I can nearly see the waves of anguish traveling over his skin, the disheartening agony sparking in his mind. In a way, it's terrifying to see. So agonizingly horrible to see someone so strong turn over the broken side of the leaf.

A thick pang of worry travels through my chest as I drop to my knees beside him, crouching next to his fragile form. Ashton's crying and sniffling, and when I carefully place a hand on his shoulder, he jumps.

Ashton spins toward me with red, puffy eyes, filled to the brim with tears. His lips are turned into a flat line, trembling ever so slightly as his eyebrows lower, face crumpling as he hides himself once again.

He looks tortured, and it terrifies me. I've never seen Ashton like this, not once. He's always been strong, holding himself up proudly with a dazzling smile. I've never seen him look so broken. I slowly wrap an arm around Ashton's muscled shoulders, frazzled at this sudden turn of tables. It's usually him comforting me, not the other way around. It frightens the hell out of me.

"Ashton?" I say softly, carefully. Ashton sits up abruptly, his eyes wide and swollen.

"I'm sorry." Ashton sniffs loudly and wipes his nose. I stare at him, concerned, and watch as Ashton struggles to gain control of himself again. He props himself up against the wall, sliding slightly as his tries and shield his tear-streaked face from my eyes.

"What's wrong, Ash?" I ask, bewildered.

Ashton shakes his head a little. "I'm just, a bit-- upset."

I reach up and run my fingers through Ashton's hair. It's been slowly growing out, beginning to curl over the tips of his ears once again. I trace his jaw and cheeks with my hand at an attempt to slow him down. I can nearly hear his accelerated heartbeat throbbing in his chest, a scrap of muscle bloody from the consistency.

"What about?" I ask. I try and make my voice as gentle as possible, frightened that any harsh sounds could set him off. I surely would know.

"Just-- everything. The war, Calum." Ashton glances at me, licking his cracked lips before continuing. "So many people died. A lot of good people who deserved to make it out."

My heart drops at his words. "Do you feel, like, guilty? Is that it?"

Ashton considers for a moment, the muscles in his jaw tensing, before nodding. "Yeah, a little." He then makes a little choked noise from his throat and corrects, "A lot."