Michael didn't have a great experience when he went to jail. Which wasn't to say that someone would have a good experience in jail, but Michael's was especially bad. And he wasn't even in there for more than a month.

He was arrested about a year and a half ago, before he met Luke or any of the other boys. He got caught with drugs that he got from Wesley, back when he did them. He went to juvy, was arrested, and lived in a cell for three weeks, and then was released on bail, thanks to his rich parents.

During his time there, Michael learned how to fight, because fighting seemed to be the number one favorite pastime of inmates. He grew meaner, tougher. His soft exterior turned hard and guarded. He put up walls. Learned not to trust people so easily. Yet, he never gave up Wesley's name.

Michael wasn't sure why. It wasn't like Wesley Davis was close to his heart or even considered a friend. But he figured he had made enough enemies while he was behind bars. He didn't want any more once he was out of them.

Michael didn't like to think about jail. It was a hard time for him, pretty much the whole reason why he was so much of an asshole today. Trying to imagine Ashton there, sleeping on a mattress hard as stone, freezing in the cold air, eating shitty prison food in the cafeteria full of people with tattooed necks and pierced noses, locked in a building with extremely dangerous people-- it made Michael shiver. He remembered the fights that would break out. Ashton had already been a punching bag for too long. He had never thrown a punch. Michael hated to imagine Ashton, soft and tender and quiet, in a building with frightening people.

Not to mention that Ashton, while only seventeen, was tried as an adult. They do that for extreme cases, like murder. Especially if the murderer was only a few months away from turning eighteen. Michael was in juvy and it was awful. Ashton was in prison. He was with adults, people even meaner and even tougher than the people Michael was locked up with. It made Michael sick to his stomach. Ashton wasn't exactly kind. In fact, he was kind of a dick. But he also cared a lot for people, and Michael knew he didn't deserve to be in jail. Regardless of whether he killed Calum or not, Ashton didn't deserve that.

Michael woke up alone in his master bedroom. His sheets were tangled around his legs, his boxer-clad body on full display to the empty house. The room was hot and Michael was covered in sweat, although he wasn't sure whether that was because of the temperature or the dream he had: Ashton in jail, beaten to a bloody pulp, his orange jumpsuit stained red, tears streaked down his cheeks.

Michael stood up groggily. He fumbled for his phone, on a devastating three percent of battery, on his bedside table. He squinted at the screen, remembering how there used to be a flood of messages from Luke, Ashton, and Calum every morning. Now there were only a few texts from Luke. Calum was gone. Ashton was arrested. And Luke and Michael were the only ones left.

They hadn't seen the alive Calum for a couple of days. Ever since they had found out that nobody could see him, apart from the other boys, things had gotten weird and twisted and tense. Luke refused to look at him, his logical mind finding it ridiculous and slightly frightening. Michael figured it was too hard on Luke even at the beginning, seeing someone who so closely resembled his best friend. And now, with this strange doppelgänger that may not even be human... Michael supposed it was a bit too much to take in.

Calum had apparently kept his space. Michael was sure the kid was having a difficult time adjusting to the fact that he was invisible to everyone, although Michael wasn't quite positive how he hadn't realized that earlier. Michael wondered how long he had been invisible. Clearly not his entire life, as his family would have noticed. Michael got a headache just thinking about it.

He showered. He ran a toothbrush over his teeth. He dressed in a shirt that may or may not be clean. He grabbed a protein bar from the cabinet. Then he stood in his massive kitchen that enjoyed the presence of nobody but him, and he called Luke.

Luke answered on the second ring. "Michael."

"Come pick me up?"

There was a slight shuffling on the other side. Michael imagined Luke sitting up, grabbing his jacket. "Where to?"

"If your asshole brother won't do it, then we will," Michael said. He slipped on his denim jacket. "We'll tell the police to investigate Ashton's dad."

Luke was quiet for a moment. Then he said, "I'll be there in ten."

Luke, in fact, was not there in ten minutes. It took him fifteen, and he looked apologetic as Michael opened the passenger door and slid in.

"Bikers," Luke explained. "Slow as hell."

Michael only nodded. He dumped his backpack on the floor and sat back, crossing his arms. Luke pulled back onto the road, driving toward the local police station.

"So. Investigating Ashton's dad?" Luke said. Michael shrugged.

"Yeah. Ashton needs to get out of jail. You said it yourself. Back when we saw his name on the suspect list. You said he wouldn't go to jail, so we're going to get him out."

Luke's face was held blank. Had Michael not known him so well, he would have assumed Luke didn't care whatsoever. But he knew Luke like the back of his hand.

"What is it?"

Luke looked over at Michael briefly. "How are you so sure that he didn't do it?"

"I'm not," Michael said. "I just don't care if he did or not. He's still our Ashton. I want his dad thrown his jail for multiple reasons. And personally, I think it was him anyway."

Luke bit his bottom lip. "Alright."

The car pulled into the parking lot. Luke parked and took out the key, glancing at Michael before getting out.

They walked into the police station. Michael imagined Ashton here, handcuffed, getting his DNA and fingerprints taken. Dressing in an orange jumpsuit. Michael could hardly picture it.

The same woman who was behind the desk last time was behind the desk now. She looked at the two boys expectantly.

"Can I help you?" she asked. Luke stepped forward and put on his charming smile.

"We wanted to talk to someone about Calum Hood's case," Luke said. "See, the thing is--"

"It's been closed," said the policewoman, turning her attention back to the computer. "Ashton Irwin was charged with the murder of Calum Hood."

"You have no proof that it was him," Luke argued. The woman looked up sharply.

"Yes, we do. We found the murder weapon in his bedroom with his fingerprints on it. It's a dead giveaway," she said. "Clearly this was not expected. But evidence is evidence."

Luke clenched his jaw. Michael wanted to punch someone. Instead, he stepped up to the desk. The woman looked over Michael's red hair and piercings disapprovingly.

"Can we see him? Ashton?" Michael asked.

The woman sighed. "You'll need to sign into our database. Here."

She handed them forms and pens. They quickly filled it out and then followed the woman toward the back of the police station. She led them to a room with three sectioned booths, a thick glass divider between the walls, with phones on each booth. Luke and Michael dragged another chair and squeezed into one booth, bickering for a moment over who holds the phone. Luke won out.

It took a while before Ashton came out. When he did, it took a moment for Michael to even recognize him.

Ashton looked awful. Really, that was an understatement. He had bags under his eyes, a split lip and a bruise running along his jawline. His hair was a mess, tangled and dark. His shoulders were slumped, and there was something very hard in his gaze.

Ashton dropped into the chair and stared at the two boys for a moment before grabbing the phone. He put it to his ear.

"Ashton," Luke said the moment Ashton could hear. "Are you okay?"

Ashton blinked at them, and then said lowly, "What are you guys doing here?"

Michael knew that trick. He snatched the phone from Luke and pressed it to his own ear. Luke leaned in to hear. "Ashton, we're here because we love you and we know this is totally fucked up. Are you okay or not? It's okay to say no."

Ashton stared at Michael for a moment before answering. "I'm fine. I'm being moved to the state jail tomorrow."

Michael wanted to scream. The local jail was shitty because the guards take their jobs way too seriously. But the state jail is unbearable. It's the other inmates you're scared of.

"Well, we're getting you out. Okay?" Michael said. His knuckles were white as they gripped the phone. "So, just hang in there. Keep to yourself. Don't draw attention. Avoid fights, if you can. And wear shoes in the shower."

Ashton didn't make any indication that he even heard Michael other than lowering his eyes. He was silent for a couple moments. Then he looked up and asked, "Has the case closed?"

Michael felt like shit, but he slowly lifted his eyes to meet Ashton's.

Ashton's head fell into his hand. Michael thought it was one of the saddest movements he'd ever seen.

"Ashton," Michael said slowly. "I need you to tell us the truth. We don't care if it's true or not, we're still going to try to get you out. But-- did you kill Calum?"

Ashton blinked. He blinked a few more times before furrowing his eyebrows. "What does it matter if I did or not? I'm here, aren't I?"

"It matters because we want you out of here, Ash," Michael said. "Please. Yes or no."

Ashton looked very reluctant to answer. His chest rose and fell a little faster. Michael though he saw Ashton's eyes glistening. Them Ashton said, "No," and it was forced and his voice cracked and Michael felt an enormous weight lift off his own shoulders.

"Well, you certainly don't make it easy to think otherwise!" Michael said breathily. He ducked his head. "Why the hell didn't you just say that earlier?"

Ashton's eyes narrowed. "Because I'm here, Michael. I'm in prison. At least, I will be tomorrow. The case is finally closed, and if it's me who's punished, then so be it."

"No," Michael said forcefully back. Luke moved away from the phone, shooting daggers at Michael through his eyes. Michael ignored him. "I was in jail once, too, you know. I remember feeling that, hey, it's a lot easier to just accept it than to resist. But, damn it Ashton, you have to resist. Keep resisting."

Ashton's face was hidden for a moment behind his palm. Then he dropped his hand and looked at Michael and Luke with a guarded expression. "I love you both. But please don't come visit me at the state jail. Just-- remember what I said? At my house? Please stay out of this."

"Like hell," Michael replied.

Ashton looked at Michael earnestly. "Especially you. As much as I enjoy your company, I don't want you thrown in here with me too."

He put the phone away before Michael could answer. He stood up and a guard came and twisted a pair of handcuffs back on Ashton's wrist. Michael and Luke watched as Ashton was led out of the room, leaving just an empty chair behind him.

Luke had to pry the phone from Michael's hand.

"Come on. Let's go," Luke said gently, and together they left the station. Michael would have punched Luke's car had Luke not been so gung ho about the shitty vehicle. He got in the car and rubbed his face.

He needed to get Ashton out of there, and he needed to do it fast.

---
A/N: happy saturday everyone

thoughts regarding ashton?

hope everyone enjoyed reading. please vote and comment.

love you to the moon, bye