5SOS Imagines and Preferences

A.I- Lay with Me

It wasn't something that should've happened. It was no one's fault. A simple car crash. Luke was going to be fine. Maybe some short term amnesia, maybe some head tramma but he'd be alive for sure.

That was an incorrect statement. Luke wasn't fine. In fact; he died on impact. The crash had been so bad, he didn't feel a thing.

See, I'd spent the past three weeks in my room. She never left for food, water, nothing. Luke was her brother. Her best friend. Her other half. Her rock. He was her everything. And he was taken from her because of a drunk driver. Such a shame to her and the boys.

Calum and Michael were both devastated, but she hadn't seen Ashton CRY yet. Oh Ashton.

Ashton has always been her enemy. Always. There was never a moment that anyone around then could recall that they'd gotten along. Never. And that was fine until this happened. Something that no one could stop. An awful experience that no one should go through, feelings of hatred and shame were always a heavy enclosure in the house.

Ashton had been told by Luke himself, on his death bed, to take care of her for him, "Stay strong for the boys, Ash," he'd said. And Ashton nodded. "Stay strong for her. Don't cry in front of her she hates that." He'd mumbled just before he sucked in his last breath. But before he could slip away, Ashton had said, "Of course. Always." And in that moment, Ashton let a single tear roll down his cheek. And tear that represented more than just a few things, sadness, anger, confusion, depression, but above all...it showed determination. Something in Ashton set that day.

No, it had set a long time ago. Ashton was a good guy, and he still is, but getting a long with his sworn enemy under such circumstances...that's something that was going to test his patients. So, as he told Luke-as he promised-Ashton was making an attempt to hold the group of, newly and freshly, four. No longer five.

'Who's gonna hold us together if it isn't me?' He'd asked himself on late nights, nights like those were spent under the covers as tears soaked his pillow case. Feelings of hatred began to flow through his veins, hatred for Luke leaving, and hatred for the guy who killed him.

If Ashton were being honest with himself, he would say, "I don't hate Luke because he left," then he'd probably sigh, only ti finish his sentence with something surprisingly wise. Something along the lines of, "I hate Luke because he left his only sister alone in the world. I hate him for that. I shouldn't but I do." Then he'd most likely try to fight off how he felt in his head, which would bring the voices he'd fought for so many years to come back and haunt him.

It had  three weeks. Three whole weeks of Y/N not leaving her room. And Ashton has grown frustrated with her actions. She couldn't go on like this. She couldn't move on with her life like Luke would want her to if she stayed in her room all the time sulking. It wasn't good for her, her mental health, nor her physical health. Its not good for the boys and Luke would certainly be slapping Ashton if he didn't do something to help her within the next twenty four hours.

So, as he'd planned om for the past week or two, he snuck out of bed around three a.m. to check on Y/N as he'd promised Luke silently as Luke passed, just as the nights before, she had tear stained cheeks and sunken in eyes. That much was bad, but not as bad the the pronounced bones around her rib cage and collapsed stomach. 

He walked in only to see her bone framed body lying on the bed in such a careless way. Ashton never understood her. But now...he could understand her pain, everything the group of young adults were going through, he understood.