In my dream, I was sitting on a hammock outside of Asher's aunt's house – the same place we stayed when I first met his family. We had ended up sleeping outside on the porch somehow, I couldn't remember why, but in my dream, I was just sitting on the edge of the porch.

The yard was perfectly trimmed and the sun was at a perfect place in the sky to be shining beautifully down on the yard and the trees. A few birds were whizzing around in the warm air and just sat there.

Why was I sitting there?

I pushed myself up off the porch step and turned around. Standing in front of the sliding glass doors were three people: Quentin, Luke, and my dad. They were all looking around, and when they saw me, they smiled. Quentin waved at me but stayed put and Luke and Dad did the same, except Dad barely smiled, which was normal. He looked tired, like he used to when I'd get up to eat breakfast as a kid and see him chugging a cup of coffee down to stay awake after working all night on a case.

I looked back at the perfectly trimmed yard and noticed something lying far in the distance. Just like any other person in any other dream, I stepped down off the porch and started walking toward the shiny object. Who wouldn't go searching for the shiny thing that caught their eye?

The closer I got, the worse the feeling in my stomach got. I couldn't handle the feeling, so I stopped.

The feeling continued to get worse until I lifted my hand to my stomach only to pull it away and find it covered in blood. Observing my wound closer, I could see that I had been shot from the back.

I twirled around quickly to find Quentin, Luke, and Dad still standing there. They all looked terrified in a different way, but I couldn't explain it. I clutched at my stomach again and fell to the ground, pulling my legs into my chest. The pain wouldn't go away, and I knew it was telling me something.

But what could it be?

"Bea?" I was being shook. "Would you wake up? I have no idea what's wrong..."

Asher.

I shot up from the spot I was lying in and shoved the blankets off of my body. My arms wrapped sloppily around his neck, pulling him close to me.

"Whoa, what kind of nightmare did you have?" He asked breathlessly and tiredly as he hugged me back.

"I, um..." I pushed my messy hair out of my face and pulled away from him. "A nightmare, just a nightmare."

"Okay," he soothed. "You were crying in your sleep, I don't think it was just a nightmare." The moonlight shining through his bedroom window in the barn lit his face up. I could see the frown on his face and the dark circles under his eyes from lack of sleep.

I turned to look out the window and see the full moon sitting just on top of the mountains of Pennsylvania.

"It was a scary nightmare?" I tried to convince him not to ask again, and as far as his tired facial expression, I think I won.

"You can tell me about later, let's just go to sleep. We have a long day ahead of us," he whispered before planting his lips on my forehead. We both settled down under the covers on his bed and wrapped ourselves together and fell asleep.

*****

I was awake before Asher the next morning. It took me a second to remember the events of the past two days and make out how they made me feel. I was sad, yes, but I was also angry. I didn't understand why Lia had to do it, no one did. She could have been saved. She could've stuck around for Brody's wedding that's in a few months, or see her first grandchildren, or even see her sons' newest album, whenever that was coming out.

It made me angry that I had no idea what my dream was about that night. What would someone shooting me in the back in a beautiful place that had great memories have to do with anything? And why were the three suspects some of the closest people to me?

Speaking of those people, one of them was right down the stairs most likely. It was 7:30 in the morning and for as long as I had known him, Quentin was always up in time to get everything done. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't nervous to see him after so long, bit despite that, I pushed myself – carefully and quietly to not wake Asher up – out of bed and pulled on a pair of sweatpants nearby.

I dodged into the bathroom to fix myself a little before I went down to see everyone, though I wasn't in the mood to interact a whole lot. I had the feeling no one really would be. I was thankful that Ellie was also here with Grayson staying along with the rest of the band and their girlfriends. As far as I knew, Quentin was the only one that came alone. Surprise, surprise.

Quentin had a couple short relationships with super-hot models that you would next expect him to be with while they were all off doing their popstar thing. From social media, you would see that he was the nerd of the band, the smart and sensitive and quiet one. He never had a real relationship, though.

I quickly brushed my teeth and pulled my hair up into a bun to get the mess of curls out of my face. Downstairs, the TV was playing and I heard Rob Dyrdek's voice loudly introducing a video on his show Ridiculousness. I caught a glimpse of Ellie – the girl could never sleep past 7 when she was anxious – and Grayson sitting on the couch. Grayson was snoring while Ellie was curled into him watching TV.

I turned to go into the kitchen and found it to be occupied by Quentin himself. He sat on a stool by the island looking through his phone, his glasses sitting beside him. He must have had contacts in, which was a very different look for me.

I couldn't help but smile nervously. "Hey there, stranger." As I went in to hug him, I suddenly remembered all the things I had to tell him. Luke, the crash, his friend, and the true death of his big brother. My smile was replace with a flat line automatically. He didn't see it, thankfully, because I was hugging him.

"Hey, Bea. Long time no see," he chuckled exhaustedly.

"Yeah," I replied. "You sound tired."

"I don't who isn't going to be today or maybe even tomorrow." Quentin pursed his lips and set his phone in front of him.

I sucked in a deep breath and lowered my head. "I miss her. She wasn't even mine to miss, you know? I can't – well, I can – imagine how everyone else feels."

"From what I've heard, she was your biggest fan. She loved you and from what I can tell, you loved her too," he explained. I gave him a small smile and sat down beside him.

"Yeah," I mumbled softly.

"How's Asher?" He asked after a few moments of silence. It wasn't awkward, but it wasn't comfortable either. It was the kind of silence you get at a funeral.

"He's... breathing." I sighed heavily. "I just... I know what he's going through, but I don't know how to help. Nothing can really help him besides being there for him. Nothing makes it easier."

"There isn't a handbook on how to handle grief," Quentin started. "But I think you've got it handled. You just have to be there to listen and comfort. I think you and I both get that." I nodded my head in agreement. "So, here's a crazy question: how have you been?"

I opened my mouth to say something like "I'm okay," or "Good," but I had to shut t quickly to keep my cry for help from seeping out. I pursed my lips together tightly and twiddled my thumbs together. I didn't want to cry, I wasn't supposed to. But against my wishes, I did. A tear fell down my cheek and Quentin caught a glimpse of it. He instantly wrapped his arm around me and pulled me into his side. I rested my head on his shoulder and let him hold me for a few seconds.

"It's okay, Bea. You're allowed to cry too."

"He smashed a vase when he found out," I blurted out, my voice shaky. "It's hard seeing a person you knew to be so strong through everything life handed them lose it completely. I hate seeing him like this. He used to be the strong one – the one that never shed a tear. I don't know if I can be like that for him."

Quentin waited a second to respond. He gently rubbed my arm to comfort me, but it wasn't helping me any. I had too many things eating at me from the inside.

"You know what? You're one of the strongest girls I've ever met. If there was anyone on this earth meant to be with Asher, it's you, one-hundred percent." He patted my shoulder. "You might be the only one that can save him from breaking from this, Bea. Don't give up him."

That was the moral of my story. I couldn't give up on someone that deserved the world. In that moment, I made a promise to myself that no matter what, I would not falter in picking him back up. That's what we, as humans, were intended to do. Hold each other even when we hurt each other.

"Okay," I mumbled. "And, I have to tell you something later. Right now, I just want to go back upstairs."

Quentin nodded his head and murmured a goodbye as I trudged toward the steps, but a high-pitched voice caught me off guard. The voice also happened to a woman's – and it was British.

"Quentin?" The woman asked after she came out of what used to be the boys' recording room. "Is Brody waiting outside for me?" She asked frantically.

I stopped and walked over to her. She must have been Keira, Brody's soon-to-be wife.

"Are you Keira?" I asked hesitantly. She turned on me quickly with her eyes wide and her face red.

"Yeah," she replied as she calmed down and gave me a onceover.

"I-"

"I'm sorry love, but I've got to go. Brody is going to kill me if I make us late to the meeting about the funeral arrangements and-" She suddenly stopped herself short and covered her mouth. "That was insensitive of me. Anyway, I've got to run. I'll see you guys later!" And she darted out of the barn.

I looked at Quentin for a moment who didn't seem surprised by her actions at all. "She's been a mess since she got here. Keira doesn't deal with death well, and she's worried about Brody."

I nodded my head in understanding. "I get that."

Willing my sleepy self to make it up the steps, I quietly tip-toed through the hallway and pushed Asher's door open just enough to fit my body through. I gently closed it behind me and walked over to the spot I was just in. Asher was lying on his back, arms lazily spread out around him, with his chest slowly rising and falling.

I found myself kneeling down beside the bed and staring at his sleeping features. They were angelic.

"I don't know how to help you, Ash," I whispered frantically to myself. I quickly sobered myself up. "But I'm going to try my hardest. I hate seeing you this way, and I hate knowing what you're going through. Please tell me how I can help you." He moved slightly, but his eyes stayed closed. I sighed.

"I know you're asleep too, so I don't know who I'm supposed to be talking to," I muttered to myself.

I rested my head on my arms then and let my eyes drift shut as I sat there on the floor. The bed shifted suddenly and I looked up to see Asher scooting over a bit more to make a warm space for me right up against him. I gradually pulled myself up on the bed and curled myself against him so we were facing each other.

He threw his arm around my waist and I could feel his warm skin everywhere. He lifted his arm again to wipe the wetness under my eyes and push a stray hair out of my face. "Stop crying and I'll be better."

I nodded my head and turned so my back was against him and there was no breathing space between us. "It's okay to talk about what you're feeling. It'll take some of that pressure off your heart, trust me." I thought about the amount of pressure I had just unloaded on Quentin. Talking it out felt so much better than keeping it in.

"Spoken like a true psychologist." He forced a chuckle. I frowned to myself.

"I'm serious, Asher."

He was silent for a long minute after that, and I waited.

"I don't think it's the talking that helps," he whispered. "It's knowing someone is there to listen and understand."

I held my eyes shut as tight as I could get them as my lip began to quiver. I wanted to hold it back so badly. A small noise escaped my lips and I held my hand over my mouth. So much for being the tough guy.

"If you start crying, I can't promise that I won't."

"I... I promised your dad something the last time we were there, before Christmas and all that. I promised I'd figure out what was wrong with her and try to fix it. I didn't do a damn thing to save her from herself." The tears were pouring out now and there was no stopping them. The disappointment I felt in myself was ridiculous.

"You can't save everyone, Bea."

They were just simple words, but they broke me in half. Lia was gone, and I could've done something – like taken her on an adventure right then and there when she said she wanted to go on one – or just sat and talked longer.

With my tears flooding my eyes, I slowly fell asleep in the arms of the only person on the planet that I would allow to see that side of me.

I was back in the same place I was earlier. My dream hadn't changed, and I picked up right where I left off. I was staring at three guilty faces again. I had to figure out who shot me, or I wouldn't be able to live with it.

Luke stepped forward and picked up the gun before he began walking towards me. A blank expression hid everything. He handed me the gun once he was close enough and whispered, "I'm sorry." 

_________________

Okay so I'm dying to know: who did you think shot Bea in her dream at the beginning of the chapter?? Please comment your honest answer! 

Another short chapter, I'm sorry. I hate giving you short chapters, but I have them paced out and this is how this chapter was supposed to go. 

The Gif is, I believe, of Spoby (Spencer and Toby) from Pretty Little Liars. I'm hoping they ed up back together again in the next season! They were my favorite couple after Hanna and Caleb! 

The song is I Won't Give Up by Jason Mraz. It fits Bea and Asher pretty well, especially in this chapter.