Rescue // Ashton Irwin

twelve.

Adley.

2:47 a.m.

I blinked a few times, trying to decipher if the ringing in my ear was real or a dream.

"Who the hell is calling at three in the morning?" Ashton complained, his voice deep and raspy.

"Just go back to sleep, babe, I'll take care of it," I told him softly.

He complied, rolling over and going back to sleep almost instantly as I climbed out of bed and fumbled around to find my phone.

"Hello?" I asked, my voice still laced with sleep.

"Adley," Luke cried from the other end.

"Luke?" I questioned, instantly starting to worry.

After I'd found him and Michael in the bedroom the previous night, Michael had chased me down the hall to beg me not to speak a word of it to anyone.

I agreed, but wondered if he saw the hurt look Luke held from his position only a few feet away.

We'd left shortly after that, Michael telling Ashton that he needed to get up for something in the morning and wanted to go home.

So, we shoved a very sick Maddie- who still hadn't gotten cleaned up-, as well as a wasted Calum, and an unusually quiet Luke and Michael in the back of the car.

It was a completely silent ride, except for the quiet music that flowed from the radio.

We dropped everyone off at their own houses, Luke being the last in the car.

Even though I tried countless times, he was set on keeping whatever had happened to himself, or so I thought.

"Can you come get me?" he asked, his voice small.

I could have sworn I heard him sniffle.

"Of course, where are you?"

He told me the name of a bar, which I vaguely remember Noah mentioning was the best place to go if you wanted a drink strong enough to wipe your memory.

I kept him on the phone as I sped to the bar, having left a note for Ashton just in case he happened to wake up.

When I finally reached the bar, he was waiting inside for me.

I passed through the large groups of people, desperately searching for Luke so that I could get away from the sweaty bodies.

I let out an audible sigh of relief when I finally spotted him.

He sat in the far back corner, head in his hands, alone with a drink in his hand.

"Luke!" I called over the music, hanging up the phone.

He looked up at me through sad eyes.

My heart broke for him.

I had a very strong feeling that whatever was on his mind was closely related to the previous night with Michael.

"Hey, you okay?"

I knew he wasn't, but I didn't know what else to say.

He didn't seem fazed by my stupid question, which I was thankful for.

He only shook his head slightly, his gaze trained on the checkered floor below his feet.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

He shook his head again, keeping his head down.

"Luke," I said firmly.

His head snapped up, his blue irises meeting my eyes.