Disclaimer: I do not own Austin and Ally.


Misfire

Prologue

Three years, three long years, Austin had never had a problem. It was like it had vanished, gone from his system for good. He didn't miss it. He was happy it was gone. It had ruined his life, tore away a normal childhood from him so when he went three years without so much as hint that it was still lingering, he all but cheered in elation.

Austin could live his life, be a famous singer, eventually move out of his parent's home, marry, have kids, grow old, and die happily with a head of white. A picture perfect life like everyone else. Like it was supposed to be. Sadly, that just wasn't the case for Austin Moon.

Very few were even aware of it, only Austin's family and Dez knew outside of the obvious people that were helping with it. He refused to ever tell Ally or Trish, never Jimmy or, god forbid, the press. He would rather lie himself into the ground than ever let them know. He didn't want those looks; the sympathy or being treated like he was made of glass, like he was going to break at any moment. He didn't want anyone's pity and he didn't want someone's opinion of him to be affected by it.

For three years, he didn't have to worry about it. It was like it was gone. He was normal and healthy. You average teenage boy living his dream. Austin had everything he ever could have wanted. He had a life that he wouldn't change for all the money in the world. He didn't have to lie or dwell on the chaos that lied beneath his skin. He didn't have make excuses as to why he backed out of things or had to make up schoolwork from missing too many days. Those times were over, a past thought in the back of his mind until it came back.

Austin stood over his bathroom sink, streaks of red covered the white porcelain. He stared at the mirror, his eyes downcast, full of sorrow. He thought it was gone. He thought he would be able to live but his own body refused to let him. The image in the mirror was more than enough proof of that. Blood ran down his cheeks like tears. He was crying blood, just one of the many symptoms he suffered.

It wasn't cancer. No, that would have been too simple, but he was still very sick. Like, practically terminally sick. Austin wiped away the blood, causing it to smear. Fresh blood quickly replaced the old blood. His illness was back, ready to once again ever so slowly etch away more years off of his life span.

He sighed and pulled his cellphone out of his pocket, quickly dialing his father's number. Once Mike Moon answered, Austin spoke. "It's back." He said simply, his tone emotionless. "My eyes are bleeding."

The other end was quiet for the moment. Austin didn't say anything, knowing that his father was letting the news sink in. Both his parents had thought it had gone away as well. Three years was the longest it had ever receded.

Remission wasn't the correct term for it. Too...cancer-like of a term. It wasn't cancer and it didn't work like cancer did.

It had simply went away. It couldn't even be found in tests. It was just gone.

"I'll call your doctor. How bad is the bleeding?" Mike asked, finally speaking through the receiver.

"Mild, not too heavy but not exactly light." Austin answered.

"I'll be home in twenty minutes. Once I get home, you're going to the doctor."

Austin sighed, sadness pulling at his heart. He hated this. "Okay." He said.

"Call Dez, I don't want you alone."

"Okay." Austin repeated. He knew the drill, the procedure. He had it down to a 'T'.

"It's probably not that bad, Austin. It could be nothing." Even as the words left his father's mouth, both of them knew how far from the truth that was. There never was just 'not that bad' when it came this illness. One symptom sparked more. It would only down spiral from here on. He knew that. His dad knew that.

"Yeah." Austin breathed, not even bothering to try hiding his disappointment. He didn't want it to come back. He didn't want to have to give up his career, or have to keep missing school, to have to stop being a normal teen, but it was out of his control and there was nothing he could do about it.

IT.

It had caused him so much pain. It had torn down his health and had stripped years off of his lifespan. It forced him to be on a first name basis with every hospital within the entire city. It made him spend a good portion of his childhood in a hospital bed.

It was an illness and it was slowly killing him. There was no cure. There was no treatment to ease his suffering. All he could do was grin and bare the brunt of it head on. No one could help him, not really. They could get rid of the initial pain but never the long term. They could if they would, but they didn't even know what it was. It didn't even have a name. He was the only recorded case with it in the world.

He watched the blood drip into the sink. He could feel it flow off of his face. This was it. He had to do this again. His own body was about to throw him around like it was on a roller coaster once again and all Austin could do was grip the bar and hold on tight with his eyes squeezed shut, all the while, praying that he would survive it to the end.