Dynasty Decapitated

Now Im Coming Apart Like I Knew I Would

((Wow an UPDATE??? Crazy okay anyway why Ashton look so beefy

Title from Impossible Tracks by The Kills

-Mel))

If there's one thing Michael loves (besides sex and, after a smack to the head, Luke), it's sleep. He loves sleep. He tries to average a nice balance of twelve to fifteen hours of sleep a day, ten when it's absolutely necessary for him to be out of bed earlier than noon.

He's enjoying his great sleep (dreaming of Luke covered in chocolate, of course), when he's jolted awake by a loud smashing noise. The shattering is followed by a muffled thump and a panicked little yelp. Michael's eyes fly open angrily, ready to tear someone to fucking shreds for waking him up in the middle of an incredible dream. It's dark, but Luke practically flings himself out of bed trying to reach for the lamp on the bedside table.

He manages to flick it on, flooding the room with enough light that Michael's eyes narrow into slits. Luke whips back over and presses to his side as forcefully as possibly. Like Michael's supposed to protect him or something. Through squinted eyes, Michael makes out a figure hopping on one foot at the end of their bed, clutching the other in their hands, heel resting on their thigh.

"Fuck, fuck," Calum hisses out. His feet are bare and the right one is bleeding. He looks disheveled, wearing only sweatpants and a plain, wrinkly shirt, with his hair a complete mess.

Luke sits up and frowns in confusion at him. "Calum? What the hell?"

Michael sighs and sinks further into the bed, pulling at the blankets. Unfortunately, Luke's sitting on them, so the won't budge. Calum curses again and places one hand flat on the end of their bed to balance himself. "Fuck- Ash-Ashton's missing, he- he's just gone, I don't-" he cuts off to make a distressed noise and Michael sighs.

Luckily, Luke crawls out of bed, so Michael can tug the blankets up and tuck them under his chin, again. "Missing?" Luke repeats. "Are you sure?"

"His phone goes straight to voicemail," Calum rushes out. "He- we fell asleep last night and he was just gone when I woke up at one! He was just gone!"

"Gone?" Luke echoes. Michael sighs heavily and watches Luke stumbles around for a second, leaning heavily on the wall and slapping his arm around until he finds the switch for the overhead light. He slaps it and illuminates the room in a glaringly bright, artifical light. Michael gets a good look at Calum's panicked expression and bleeding foot before he groans and tugs the blanket up over his head. The stupid thing does little to block out the light, but every little bit helps.

"No!" Calum cries miserably. "No, don't, you have to help me!"

"I'm good," Michael replies. He rolls over and presses his face into the pillow, accidentally releasing the blanket and giving Calum the opportunity to rip it off of him. Michael grunts, but squeezes his eyes shut stubbornly to block out the damn lights (fuck Luke and his need to see, honestly).

"Come on, calm down for a second," Luke suggests. Calum makes an alarmed noise in response, like anything less than his current panicked state wouldn't benefit the situation in the slightest. "Jesus, Calum, you have glass in your foot. Sit down or-"

"I can't sit down, he's missing!" Calum screeches.

Luke makes an exasperated noise and yells, "Calum, sit!" There's a muffled whump that Michael's going to assume is Calum sitting on the spot obediently, followed by a cry of pain and Luke's frantic shout of, "Not on the fucking glass, you idiot!"

Michael decides this shit show might be a little more amusing than sleep and peels one eye open to watch Luke drags Calum off the floor and into a standing position. He looks pained and terrified and Michael snorts in amusement.