Ghost ⇔ Cake ✓

Twenty One: Just One of the Guys

A/N: who else died at this pic

Ashton stared at the door that Michael disappeared through. The moment the boy, blood and all, was gone, Ashton started to feel the loneliness creep back underneath his skin, where it settled, cold as ice in his veins. Ashton didn't do well without his friends by his side. He didn't realize how much he had leaned on them for support while he was still free, but now that he was locked in a building with criminals, he realized how much he needed them.

He needed Luke, and his ability to solve nearly any problem that comes his way, and his unwavering loyalty. He needed Calum, and his gentle smiles and comforting embrace. He even needed Michael, with that shark-like smile and hard exterior. Ashton needed Michael to make him feel strong.

Ashton felt very, very alone.

The prison wasn't an easy place to be. Most of the men there had done truly terrible things, and they were much more intimidating than Ashton. Ashton had never felt smaller than he did when he was in the courtyard.

Because of this, he mainly kept to himself. He had gathered a few friends, non-fighter types who weren't interested in becoming enemies with anyone. They looked out for him and Ashton looked out for them. But right now, he wanted to be alone.

He knew that the others didn't quite understand how he was feeling. They saw everything black and white–– Ashton was innocent, Ashton's father was guilty. But Ashton didn't think that it was quite that simple. Ashton was there, right beside his father, when it happened. He was there. He was there.

Ashton remembered everything from that day crystal clear. He remembered spotting his father, so out-of-the-blue, in the middle of the woods. And then he saw him pull out the gun, the barrel turned to face one of his best friends. The moment he did, Ashton understood why. Calum was the most caring, the most compassionate. He would do anything for his friends. Seeing what his father was doing nearly killed Calum (theoretically, kind of). Enough to where both Ashton and Ashton's father were scared he might say anything.

That was how Ashton's father dealt with fear. Pulling out a gun and getting rid of the problem directly.

Ashton remembered the snap of decision–– Calum or his father. Maybe if he had made the decision even a second sooner, Calum would still be alive. Instead, it took Ashton a moment before he sided with Calum, barreling into his father right as the gun blasted. He remembered falling to the ground, his father spitting in his face before taking off. He remembered Calum screaming. Bloodcurdling screaming.

Ashton remembered kneeling beside him, frantic. His knees were covered in Calum's blood, seeping through his pant leg and into the grass. He remembered the panic, his heart racing, tears swelling in his eyes. This was his fault. This was his fault.

Ashton remembered the dread that sinked into his veins when he came back to find Calum gone. A pool of blood was all that was left. He remembered running around, trying to find a path, a trail, anything to find where he was. The paramedics were already calling in the detectives.

And he kept it all inside, even after the body was found. Even after he went back home and sat in his room until he got that terrible phone call from Luke. Even after they attended his funeral, and Ashton wore all black. He stayed quiet.

It was the guilt, in retrospect. He actually felt some kind of relief the moment they came by to arrest him. He finally thought, Good. Some closure. He recognized that he wasn't the one who killed Calum, but it was just as much his fault as whoever did.

He remembered the look on Luke and Michael's faces when he was shoved into the police car. The disbelief when Ashton didn't deny doing it. They just didn't understand.

Ashton stood in the courtyard, still holding on to the feeling of Michael's embrace. Then he remembered what Michael had said: "Ask around about Calum."

This was sort of the last thing Ashton wanted to do. Ashton didn't like to talk to people in general, let alone his fellow prisoners. But then he thought of Calum, alone on the grass, muffled screams as he held onto his bleeding leg. He'd do it for Calum.

Ashton surveyed the courtyard. People were grouped off, almost like they were in cliques. He wasn't sure how to approach them without looking like he wanted to engage in a fight. Ashton wasn't sure how many more hits he could take. He had finally just gotten control of his body again.

It still felt strange to wake up without any new bruises. Ashton was used to waking up in pain with a blood-smeared washcloth beside him on the pillow. He was used to wearing a hoodie to cover up the cuts his father's broken beer bottles gave him. He was used to hiding, staying quiet, and putting a massive guard up around himself.

For the first time, he didn't have to do that anymore. He was beginning to wonder how much of that was actually him and how much of it was what he was forced to become.

Ashton took a deep breath and scanned the courtyard. His eyes caught on light blonde hair, tanned skin. Wesley. Usually the name made Ashton feel sick, but Ashton figured that was as good a place to start as any.

When Ashton approached him, Wesley raised his eyebrows. "Hello. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Ashton couldn't believe the amount of ego this man had.

"Can we talk?" Ashton asked. Wesley glanced at the group of people he was with, but nodded. The two of them walked a couple steps out of earshot of the group.

"What's up, Irwin?"

"I was wondering if you knew anything about what happened to Calum," Ashton said. Wesley tilted his head back, groaning.

"You guys will not shut up about him, will you?" Wesley said, his voice loud, almost domineering. "I thought I already told you I didn't know anything."

Ashton fought the urge to retreat. He hated the reaction he still had to raised voices. "Forgive me if I say I don't always believe what comes out of your mouth."

This time Wesley smiled. "You've grown a little more confidence since being here, haven't you, Irwin?" Ashton didn't say anything. "Look, Calum seemed nice enough. He wasn't threatening. All I know is that he had weed of mine that he didn't pay for. I was frustrated with the kid but that doesn't mean I killed him."

Ashton bit his lip. "Do you know anyone who might have had something against him? Anyone we wouldn't have known about?"

"Believe it or not, I didn't pay that close attention to your and your friends," Wesley said. "I just know what he did with me. God, was my boss mad."

Ashton lifted his head. "Your boss?"

"Yeah, I'm not the only one in the drug-selling business," Wesley said, like it was obvious. "I kept on telling him that Calum would get the money to me, but he's always been a little more impatient than me."

Ashton blinked. "So you think, maybe he could have done it?"

"Killed Calum? I highly doubt it. But... I mean, what do I know? I'm the one in fucking jail right now," Wesley said. He clapped a hand on Ashton's shoulder and turned to rejoin his friends. Ashton stayed where he was.

It was a weak lead, but it was better than nothing.

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A/N: short but very important chapter!

I hope everyone is doing okay. it's a crazy world right now and I kind of feel like i'm in a dystopian novel

when is your birthday??

mine's in january, I'll be 21 wooo

remember to vote and comment your thoughts!!!  I love you all so much.

bye