CALUM

When I wake up the next morning, I am achingly aware of the cold emptiness beside me on the bed, clearly indicating that Ashton's absence.

I slowly sit up, mumbling under my breath as I rub my eyes with my fists. As I open my eyes, Ashton's room filters into view, the familiar furniture and picture frames painting the corners of my vision. The sheets fall off my shoulders, causing goosebumps to rise on my skin, a shiver running down my back. My heart drops at the sight of Ashton's disappearance, considering I remember us falling asleep together last night.

I push the covers off my legs and sit on the edge of the bed, placing my feet on the ground. Right as I stand up, I hear a crash from inside Ashton's bathroom, sounding like something falling, the noise echoing throughout the room. I pause, my neck jerking towards the bathroom door at the sound. I quickly stand up and walk quietly over to the door, briefly contemplating knocking before twisting the doorknob.

As the door opens, I cautiously peek around the doorframe, scanning the interior of the bathroom shortly. I nearly miss the sight of Ashton pressed up against the wall, curled up with his face hidden in his knees. He's shaking, his broad shoulders trembling as his body convulses slightly with his cries.

For a moment, I just stand there, shock paralyzing my body as I stare at Ashton's almost unrecognizable form on the ground. I can nearly see the waves of anguish traveling over his skin, the disheartening agony sparking in his mind. In a way, it's terrifying to see. So agonizingly horrible to see someone so strong turn over the broken side of the leaf.

A thick pang of worry travels through my chest as I drop to my knees beside him, crouching next to his fragile form. Ashton's crying and sniffling, and when I carefully place a hand on his shoulder, he jumps.

Ashton spins toward me with red, puffy eyes, filled to the brim with tears. His lips are turned into a flat line, trembling ever so slightly as his eyebrows lower, face crumpling as he hides himself once again.

He looks tortured, and it terrifies me. I've never seen Ashton like this, not once. He's always been strong, holding himself up proudly with a dazzling smile. I've never seen him look so broken. I slowly wrap an arm around Ashton's muscled shoulders, frazzled at this sudden turn of tables. It's usually him comforting me, not the other way around. It frightens the hell out of me.

"Ashton?" I say softly, carefully. Ashton sits up abruptly, his eyes wide and swollen.

"I'm sorry." Ashton sniffs loudly and wipes his nose. I stare at him, concerned, and watch as Ashton struggles to gain control of himself again. He props himself up against the wall, sliding slightly as his tries and shield his tear-streaked face from my eyes.

"What's wrong, Ash?" I ask, bewildered.

Ashton shakes his head a little. "I'm just, a bit-- upset."

I reach up and run my fingers through Ashton's hair. It's been slowly growing out, beginning to curl over the tips of his ears once again. I trace his jaw and cheeks with my hand at an attempt to slow him down. I can nearly hear his accelerated heartbeat throbbing in his chest, a scrap of muscle bloody from the consistency.

"What about?" I ask. I try and make my voice as gentle as possible, frightened that any harsh sounds could set him off. I surely would know.

"Just-- everything. The war, Calum." Ashton glances at me, licking his cracked lips before continuing. "So many people died. A lot of good people who deserved to make it out."

My heart drops at his words. "Do you feel, like, guilty? Is that it?"

Ashton considers for a moment, the muscles in his jaw tensing, before nodding. "Yeah, a little." He then makes a little choked noise from his throat and corrects, "A lot."

I sigh, stilling my fingers. "You shouldn't feel guilty. From what I've heard, you helped a lot of people."

"I know, I just--" Ashton sighs, bowing his head and scrunching his eyes shut. "I still feel bad."

The breath in my lungs begin to burn. He doesn't deserve this. Out of all the soldiers in the world, Ashton doesn't deserve any of this. He changed lives, helped the world, dug his hands in the most riskiest of situations, and yet, he's tortured. "A lot of soldiers feel like that after a war, you know."

Ashton sniffles. "Yeah?" He turns to look at me, huge hazel eyes staring into mine, and my lungs collapse.

"Yep." I nod, offering a small smile. I lift my hand to rub his back supportively. "I bet there are some support groups out there for you guys."

Ashton makes a face. I can predict his next words before his lips even move. "A support group? God. I don't know, Calum."

"It'll be good for you, Ashton." I say, giving him an enthusiastic smile. I'm sure I can find some around, especially after the war just ended. And it would be good for him. He needs the support, needs it from more than just one person.

I get to my feet, pulling Ashton up with me. Ashton grumbles quietly to himself as I lead him back to his bed, sitting him down on it gently. I then head over to Ashton's computer, sitting down and beginning to research support groups.

My search comes with lots of information, and I am able to find one located only a couple miles away. As I eagerly scroll down the page, Ashton mumbling useless protests behind me, I see that there is a session in just a few hours. I quickly turn back around and repeat the information to Ashton.

Ashton frowns, much less enthusiastic than I had hoped. "Do I have to go?"

I pull my knees to my chest and say, "I think it would be good for you."

Ashton hesitates before nodding, rubbing his knuckles. "Can you go with me?" He stares at me pleadingly from where he sits on the edge of the bed, looking more helpless than I have ever seen him before. "I need you with me."

I smile, nodding sweetly. "Of course." Ashton lets a smile slide onto his face, and he flutters his eyes shut, holding out his arms to me. I oblige, getting up and walking over to him. I curl up in his arms, feeling Ashton's arms wrap protectively around me. He leans back, laying us both down together on the warm sheets.

"Can we just cuddle until the therapy thing? Please?" He says, his voice breaking a bit in the middle. I exhale, resting my head on Ashton's chest tiredly, nodding softly.

"Anything for you."

~*~

In the car, it is clear to see Ashton is dreading the session.

He's sitting stubbornly in the passenger seat, his arms crossed over his chest and lower lip jutted out. I continuously give him encouraging smiles from the driver's side, using the car's direction service to get to the support session. I'm praying it won't lead us the wrong way.

"It's not going to be bad." I say, glancing over at Ashton's narrowed eyes and clenched fists. Ashton nods half-heartedly, taking a deep breath.

"I'll be right there beside you. Yeah?" I remind him, and Ashton nods, looking relieved.

"Thank you."

Ashton's knuckles have turned white by the time we reach the building, and I  can practically see him fighting the urge to run back home as fast as he can. I quickly reach over and take his hand in mine, giving his cold palm a friendly squeeze before letting go, pulling the keys out of the car and stepping outside. Ashton follows reluctantly, his feet dragging as I lock the car behind us.

We walk into the building together, Ashton staring at his feet as we do. In front of us, there is a large room with chairs arranged in a wide circle. Ashton stops in his tracks, his eyes wide.

I nudge him forward encouragingly, and Ashton glances around the room. It's filled with men and women, all much bigger and more muscled than I am. There is also a lady who appears to be in her late fifties, clearly the session leader.

We slowly move forward and take two of the chairs, feeling everyone's eyes on us as we do. We sit for a little while, watching everyone make small talk with frowns on their faces . Ashton keeps letting out deep sighs, glancing over at me as if to further complain to me through telepathy. I just keep his hand in mine, drawing small circles on his skin to reassure him.

After about ten minutes, the session leader takes a seat, stating her name and age. She has us all go around in the circle and tell the group our names and ages. People look at me oddly when I do, but no one questions it. Ashton mumbles his, slurring his words together to the point that it is almost hard to decipher.

After everyone has spoken, the session leader launches into a discussion of guilt, and the steps to dealing with it.

"One of the best ways to forget about your personal experiences in the war and forgive yourself for you participation in it, is to take a vacation. To go somewhere, get your mind off of the present."

I turn to look at Ashton. He's staring at the session leader, seemingly taking in the words leaving her mouth, but I can never really know. Not with Ashton. He's become a master at guarding his emotions, building up inside his lungs until they burst with a cry for help.

The lady talks about the soldiers' bravery, and then she proceeds to talk about how each of them survived for a reason, and that the people who died had died for a reason.

A few of the soldiers offer a few ideas of dealing with the stress, but Ashton doesn't say a word. I don't mind, of course. I'm insanely proud of him for even showing up to this gathering at all, especially since he wasn't looking forward to it.

The session ends shortly after. It's quick and simple and I'm quite certain that Ashton doesn't want to attend again due to the look on his face.

We stand up as everyone else does, my hand still clasped in Ashton's. As we are walking out of the building, I turn to look at him.

"What do you think?" I ask, my voice hopeful. Ashton looks at me, and a faint smile appears on his face.

"I'm feeling better, honestly." Ashton says, and my heart skips a beat in delight. "I like what she talked about. The whole 'getting away' idea."

"We can do that." I say, smiling happily at the hazel eyed boy. He smiles, genuinely this time, and lets go of my hand so he can wrap his arm around my shoulders, pulling me close as we approach the car.

"But before we can do that, I heard that someone is graduating in a couple days." Ashton says, his voice light as he smiles, dimples sinking into his cheeks.

I can't help the smile that grows on my face at his words. "I thought you had forgotten about it."

Ashton leans down, kissing my nose. "How could I forget? My favorite boy in the world is graduating high school."

His words send tremors of happiness down my spine, making my cheeks turn pink. Ashton gets into the driver's seat, letting me curl up in the passenger side.

I take a moment and turn to look at Ashton. The war has changed his appearance, but nothing too noticeable. His hair is shorter than it used to be. It used to be long, nearly down to his shoulders, and wavy. Now it's short, growing out from the buzz cut he was forced to get, and it's curly. His face is more structured, cheekbones prominent and jawline pronounced. Stubble lines his jaw and his skin is a bit darker, tougher, more scarred than the soft tan skin in used to be. He looks older, much older. I don't mind, though, because his hazel eyes are still the same. They still sparkle with every single beauty in the world, and that is enough for me.

Ashton looks over and notices me staring, a smile forming on his pretty lips. I silently lean over the dashboard, pressing my lips gently against his. Ashton shuts his eyes, immediately moving his hands to my waist and pulling me effortlessly into his lap. His lips are warm touching mine, moving with beauty and grace against my slightly less experienced ones. I break away after a minute, resting my head on Ashton's broad chest. Ashton hugs my middle and presses me closer to him, and I listen to his heartbeat from where my ear is against his chest. It's even, loud, clear. It makes me want to cry, because I can't count the number of times I have imagined it stopping.

I don't know how I became so fortunate to be able to call such a lovely boy mine. He's perfect, irreproachable, in every single way known possible.

I would do anything for him. I'd endure any amount of pain in the world, take every source of hurt possible if it meant that Ashton was safe and unharmed. He's melted onto my bones, coursing through my bloodstream to where every thought in my brain is of him. I wake up in the morning, and my thought is of him. I go to sleep at night, and I'm picturing the feeling of my head on his chest.

My heart is beating only to the reassurance that he is alive, and that's all I could ever need.

---

A/N i'm so tired so i didn't read over this but here it is friends

i hope you all are having a good day so far :)

what color is your hair?

mine's a brownish-red. i might get a purple streak though in it but i'm sort of scared considering i have never bleached/dyed my hair before yikes

thanks for reading! please vote and comment your thoughts if you would like. I really appreciate it.

also, I have published two new cashton stories, so feel free to check those out if you would like to!

love you to the moon!

bye.