The day had already been monumentally shitty. The worst of the worst days. An absolute steaming-pile-of-crap day. So, really, it was only natural to finish it with a perfect cherry on top - his call from Death-Cast.
He was alone when the unmistakabl...
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𝙼𝚒𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚎𝚕 𝙳𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝟸𝟷𝚜𝚝, 𝟼:𝟹𝟽𝚊𝚖
Michael's first instinct upon seeing Luke was to shield Ashton. It was, after all, his job, but it was more than that too. He felt some perpetual need to protect the younger boy no matter what, which was odd to him because that wasn't something he'd ever experienced before. He had always been a 'help yourself first and others second' kind of guy outside of his job expectations and, even then, the most he'd ever protected Harry from was a paper cut.
When he saw Luke nursing a bloody fist and heaving the garage door open, though, his normal instincts were gone. Flight wasn't an option. All that was left was fight and he was ready to take Luke to the death.
The man was quickly approaching, fury in his eyes directed right at Michael, and, just as Michael was going to step forward and swing at him, Ashton shoved past him and tackled Luke to the ground. Michael blanked, having no idea what to do as he watched Ashton and Luke tangle on the ground. They seemed to blur in Michael's vision. He thought that, perhaps, he should try to interfere, but he had no idea where to even start. The two boys were too intertwined with each other to hurt one without hurting the other.
Punches were being thrown by Ashton. Luke didn't try to hit back at first, yelling and trying to shove Ashton off, but he quickly resorted to violence as well. They rolled back and forth, both getting in several good hits and staining the floor with blood. Michael could no longer tell what blood belonged to who. He screamed for them to stop, but, if anything, the tussle only intensified.
Somehow, Ashton eventually got the upperhand and ended up on top of Luke, pounding punch after punch into the man's face. The sound of skin hitting skin echoed in Michael's aching brain and he had to look away as he began to get nauseous. Ashton just wouldn't stop. Luke's face was mangled, spitting out blood and eyes beginning to swell shut. It wasn't until Ashton let out a scream of frustration and an especially loud blow landed that Michael knew he absolutely had to intervene. He reached deep inside of himself and found some fucking courage before going up behind the pair of them and hooking his arms around Ashton's. He pulled the boy, kicking and screaming, off of Luke, who was far too injured to do any more damage.
Michael and Ashton fell back onto the ground when Michael could no longer hold the both of them up. Ashton was limp in Michael's arms, breathing heavily. He was no longer fighting against Michael, but Michael still held him tightly anyway.
They both watched intently as Luke shakily pushed himself to his feet, legs trembling. He steadied himself against the love seat before glaring over at Michael. His eyes were narrowed into his slits and if looks could kill, Michael would surely be dead.
"This isn't over," he spat. "I love Ashton and he loves me. You won't get in the way."
Michael started to snap back, but felt Ashton heave a wobbly inhale at the last second. He decided to keep his mouth shut and leave it between the two of them for the time being.
