title: unchained melody
summary: And sing me a love song again; say the words that heal my heart. /Austin and Ally, through the years.
rating: t
pairing: austinxally
author's note: I do not own the lyrics in the story, title, or summary. They belong to Ne-Yo, the Righteous Brothers, and Barlowgirl, respectively. Also, this is my first Austin & Ally fanfiction! Excitement.
dedicated to: haynes-poseys {overstreets}, ExtremeSaucicity and infelicitous, the former who both looked over this and the latter who beta'd. You guys are too amazing. PS: bonus section for you guys! I added a new section and conveniently forgot to show you guys. (; Hope you enjoy.
note: for the first two scenes, which I got from the first episode, I deleted some of the dialogue, as my beta said it felt too dry reiterating everything.
warning: extreme amounts of fluffiness ahead. I've never written anything this disgustingly fluffy before, but here it is.
unchained melody
by Cascading Rainbows
"You're something that I'd never choose
But at the same time something I don't wanna lose
And never wanna be without ever again
You're the best thing I never knew I needed."
-Never Knew I Needed; Ne-Yo
.
.
The first time they meet is by pure coincidence.
She's writing some lyrics in her songbook when a loud, clanging noise interrupts her thoughts. She looks up and notices an unfamiliar blonde banging on the drums with corndogs in each hand, with another redhead filming him. Sighing, she walks up to him and whistles in his ear. "Did you not see the 'please do not play the drums' sign?" she asks exasperatedly.
He glances at the sign and looks back at her. "It's okay; I'm an awesome drummer!" he replies, grinning. He takes a bite out of one of his corn dogs, and she tries not to cringe.
The blonde proceeds to show her that he can play a trumpet from another trumpet, and, she's not gonna lie, she's impressed. He's a good musician, and she respects that. But things start getting awry when his friend claims he can play a harmonica through a sousaphone.
In a matter of seconds, that exchange ends up to an where an elderly woman chokes on said harmonica, and his friend gives her the Heimlich maneuver. The woman's dentures end up flying across the room onto the counter, the harmonica stuck in between the teeth.
Ally thinks to herself, This is going to be a long day.
x
Somehow this all leads to a stolen song, a viral video, and a very unfortunate incident on the Helen Show, and Ally couldn't be more mortified. It was one thing to be shown on TV, but to wreck the Helen Show studio took embarrassment to a whole new level.
Ally steps into her practice room with Trish, and then realizes: it looks completely different. Austin, whose name she learned in the process between the harmonica and Helen Show incident, is pushing Dez, the redhead, in a bumper car. "My practice room," she says in awe, "What is all this stuff? What are you guys doing here?" She notices a table with a jar of pickles to her left. "Pickles!" she exclaims, and for a moment she's touched that he remembers her favorite food. "But look at that piano!"
Austin walks over to her. "I used the money I got for being on the Helen Show to pay for all this," he explains, gesturing at the equipment.
Ally looks at him, but there's only pure, unadulterated kindness in his eyes. Maybe he was nicer than she'd originally thought. "I can't believe you did all this; thank you," she manages to say.
She's unprepared for what happens next.
"I want you to be my partner." Austin grins. "You're a songwriter with stage fright; I'm a singer who loves being on stage. We're a perfect match! So what do you say?" he asks.
And there is no hesitation in her voice when she says, "We're partners." They attempt to hug, but eventually give up, and something in the back of her head tells her:
They are going to last a long time.
x
He doesn't know why he has a weird feeling at the pit of his stomach.
It's been there since the beginning of the day, and he doesn't know why. Austin thinks over his day. He doesn't feel bad in any other part of his body, so it's unlikely that he's sick. Did he eat something bad? He'd only had the pancakes Ally had made him and a sandwich.
Speaking of pancakes.
"Ally!" he yells from their practice room. "Are there any leftover pancakes?"
"No, Austin," Ally's voice responds, and she steps inside the practice room. She's wearing a one-shouldered pink dress paired with a golden clutch, and her hair is pulled back in a ponytail. "Okay. Tell me your honest opinion. What do you think?"
Austin blinks. "Pancakes?" he manages.
"What?"
"Nothing." Austin shakes his head, clearing his thoughts. "You look . . . really good," he admits, and his stomach does a little flippy thing involuntarily.
Ally grins. "You really think so?" She gives a little twirl. "Dallas and I are going out to a really fancy restaurant, so I needed to dress appropriately. Remember I told you about it this morning?"
"Oh. Right." Austin replies, his heart sinking.
Ally's phone vibrates, and she takes it out of her clutch. She smiles radiantly. "It's Dallas," she announces excitedly. "He's outside with his car." She smooths down her dress. "Are you sure I look okay?"
"You look amazing," he repeats, and shoves her out the door. "Have fun," Austin says in a less-than-enthusiastic voice. Ally grins and leaves.
He shuts the door and leans against it, sighing. It was just Ally. Why did he feel so . . . weird around her when she was just dressed up? He'd seen her like that millions of times. She was only going on a date with Dallas.
Dallas. There's a pang in his heart again, and his stomach flutters unsettlingly. Frowning, Austin slides his back down the door until he's sitting, and it hits him.
That's what he was feeling all this time.
Jealousy.
x
"It's cute," Austin remarks, scanning the room. He leans against the doorway. "But we can do so much better."
Ally rolls her eyes. "I don't want to 'do so much better.' I love it. It's big, but not too big. It's perfect, Austin."
"I like it," he defends, raising his hands in a surrendering gesture. "But think about it. The debut album went two times platinum, and my national tour is sold out. We could buy a mansion, Ally."
She looked up at him with her big brown eyes. "But we don't need a mansion. Save it for when you get married, and you and your wife can party it up in there." She claps and performs her signature spastic dance move.
Austin laughs. "And save your 'small, cozy apartment' for when you and Dallas get hitched, which is unlikely."
"Oh, don't remind me about him." Ally pushes him. "I'm still getting over that."
Austin rolls his eyes. "Sorry. But you have to admit, he was a real piece of—"
"Don't say it," she warns, so he doesn't. Ally clears her throat. "Anyway, this is a good compromise. You wanted a mansion, I wanted an apartment. This loft is perfect. And it's super close to the recording studio."
"That's true," he admits. Ally looks at him with pleading eyes, and finally he gives in. "Fine. This loft is ours." He nods to the realtor standing next to them.
Ally claps in delight. "It's going to be so much fun being roommates! Or loft-mates, I suppose." She grins. "Either way, I'm excited!"
"Uh-huh," Austin says, and he tries his hardest not to tell her his feelings right then and there. But then he cracks. "Ally—"
"Hold that thought," Ally opens her phone and checks her messages. "Austin, we need to go. Our recording session is in ten minutes! Trish has been texting me nonstop but I couldn't see it because we were checking out the loft. We have to go, Austin!" She runs across the room and starts taking the stairs two-by-two.
Austin sighs. "Coming," he says, he and follows her to the car.
x
"Those were the nominees for Best New Artist. They're all amazing, but only one will receive the Grammy," the presenter says into the microphone.
"Please, please, please, please," Ally whispers, and she closes her eyes and squeezes Austin's hand. She feels his hand squeeze back.
"And the Grammy goes to . . ." The presenter takes a painstakingly long time to open the envelope. Carefully, he tears the corner of the envelope and works his way across the top. He slowly reaches inside, tucks the envelope into his pocket—my goodness, were they paid to reveal the results slowly? Ally thinks—and unfolds the paper. The presenter leans into the microphone. "Austin Moon."
Ally's jaw drops. "Austin!" she exclaims. She can hear Trish, who's sitting just one row back of them, clapping loudly. Someone behind them is going crazy, whooping and shouting all sorts of random gibberish, and Ally doesn't have to turn around to know that it's Dez. Austin stands up with a dazed expression on his face, like he just can't believe that his name was just called.
Still in a state of shock, he walks over to the stage, receives his Grammy, and leans over the podium. Austin clears his throat. "Um, wow. I can't believe making music has gotten me this far." He takes a step back and looks up, holding his head in his hands. Ally laughs, not because it's funny, but because all these emotions are hitting her like a barrage, and she just can't comprehend that Austin has just won a Grammy.
He leans forward again, saying, "Sorry, it's just so . . . unbelievable. I'd like to thank Trish, my manager, Dez, my music video director and my go-to guy, and my parents, who believed in my music. None of this would be possible without them." He takes a deep breath. "And last but not least, my songwriting partner, Ally. Without her song, I wouldn't have become viral in the first place, and I wouldn't even have an album as awesome as Double Take."
Ally blushes, and she knows that the cameras are all on her, but she really doesn't care because Austin has just won, and it was with her songs.
The next set of events throws her completely off guard.
Austin whispers something to the presenter, who nods. He grins and says into the microphone, "Ally, why don't you come up here?"
Confused, she looks around, and everyone is clapping and motioning for her to walk up. Trish leans over and whispers into her ear, "Go up there, you dummy." Uncertainly, Ally makes her way up the stage.
She looks out at the thousands of people in the crowd, and she doesn't even want to think about how many people are watching the event on TV. Austin rubs circles into her back so she feels a little better, but she can't stop the uncontrollable shaking in her legs. "You'll be fine," he assures.
Ally clears her throat and waits for the applause to die down. "Um," she begins nervously. "Thank you. This award means a lot to both me and Austin. This is really just a culmination of all our hard work. Thank you." Applause fills the stadium, and a wave of relief floods her.
It doesn't last for long.
"You couldn't have said it any better." Austin grins and then he kisses her smack-dab on the lips and she can hear the collective gasp of the audience as the paparazzi all stand up and take pictures.
Finally, after what seems like forever, he releases her and says "Thank you," into the microphone, and they are led to the backstage of the awards.
Once they are out of view, Ally punches him as hard as she can in the arm.
"Ow!" Austin yelps. "What was that for?"
"That was for kissing me in front of millions and millions of people!" Ally exclaims. "I can't believe you did that."
Austin swallows. "Um," he manages. "Sorry?"
Ally groans. "We have to get back to our seats; we're missing the show," she mutters and starts down the hallway, when Austin grabs her arm.
"Wait." Austin spins her around to face him. "I'm sorry. I was caught in the moment. But the truth is . . ." He forces himself to muster up the courage to say it. "I've liked you for a really long time. And that was kind of my way of asking you out, I guess." He waits for her response, his heart pounding.
Her expression softens. Oh. "Well, in that case," Ally says.
She kisses him.
Austin widens his eyes and steps back, and he's too shocked to even form coherent words. He tries to say something but it comes out like, "Habadahu?"
"And that was kind of my way of saying yes," Ally responds, grinning.
Austin grins back, and it feels like his world is beginning again.
x
"I want to accompany you."
When he hears those words, he's positive they didn't just come out of Ally's mouth. Austin lets out a laugh. "Wait—you're joking right?"
Ally shakes her head and crosses her arms, defiant.
Austin walks over to her and pulls her close. "You do realize that millions of people will be watching, right?" His whisper brushes over her cheek.
"I know," Ally says, taking a step back. She takes a deep breath. "But I need to get over my stage fright. I can't let fear take over my life." She nods resolutely. "I'm playing at the VMAs, and that is that."
Austin knows that when Ally says something as important as that so seriously, she won't give up on it. He sighs. "Fine. But you need some practice. We need to start having you perform in front of crowds—starting with stuffed animals."
She playfully punches him on the arm. "Okay. But mark my words: I will be able to play for you at the VMAs, okay?"
"Okay, I believe you," he says, and he plants a kiss on her cheek. He doesn't doubt her one bit.
x
Ally plays perfectly during all three of the songs at the VMAs, and Austin thinks it's his best performance he's done in his entire life.
x
"Where are you taking me?"
"For the last time, I'm not telling you. You'll have to wait and see." Austin, whose hands are over Ally's eyes, gently guides her down the sidewalk. "Just walk, like, thirty more seconds."
"Ugh, fine." Ally groans, and he can practically feel her eyes roll under his hands.
He leads her away from the sidewalk, and she feels sand in between her toes as they continue to walk. "Okay," Austin confirms. "We're here."
She opens her eyes and scans the premises. "Oh, Austin."
He's led her to the beach, and it's eleven at night, so no one is around. There's candles everywhere, and a picnic basket is right in the middle of it all, along with a spread out beach towel. There's even some flower petals here and there.
"The beach is totally empty," Ally notes in awe.
Austin grins. "I have connections. I wanted this to be really special." He pulls her toward the picnic basket. "This is where you lost the battle with the beach chair, remember?"
"Shut up, Austin," Ally says, but she's grinning.
"Sit," he says, so she does. "I have brought the most delicious food ever known to man." With a flourish, he opens the basket. "Pancakes!" he exclaims, grinning like a maniac, holding up a plate with five pancakes stacked on top of each other.
"Pancakes at eleven?" she comments incredulously, raising a questioning eyebrow.
Austin takes a piece of the top one and pops it in his mouth. "Pancakes are for every second of every day," he defends, rummaging through the basket. "And don't worry. I brought. . ." He takes out a box and pops off the lid. "Pickles!"
"Pickles! Yes!" Ally snatches the box from Austin and takes a bite out of one. She sighs contentedly. "Let's eat everything, Austin," she says, popping the rest of the pickle in her mouth. "We need to eat all of it."
"Sure," Austin grins, and shoves a pancake in his mouth.
Ten minutes later, Ally's finished all of her pickles, and Austin puts the last bite of his pancake in his mouth and wipes his face with a napkin. "Done." Austin announces in a muffled voice. "Let's clean up."
"Got it," Ally replies, reaching for her box's lid.
There's a few moments of silence as they gather their things, and Austin swallows the pancake bite he'd put into his mouth earlier. "I love you, you know that?" he states nonchalantly, putting his plate back into the basket.
Ally freezes, as if she can't believe her ears. "What?"
"I love you." This time it's with utter conviction. Austin shrugs. "I thought it'd be obvious. I spent more time on this picnic than I've ever have for a date with any other girl."
Ally opens her mouth and closes it again. "Really?"
"Yeah," Austin says, leaning back on his hands in the sand. "Is it really that hard to believe?"
Ally shakes her head, putting down her pickle. "No, it's just that . . . it was really anticlimactic." She grins at the silliness of her statement. "I don't mean it in a negative way; it's just with everyone else, saying those three words is a big leap in their relationship, you know? But you just said it like—like it was no problem."
"But we're not like everyone else," Austin explains grinning. He leans closer to her. "You're not like anybody else."
Austin is very close to her, almost too close, and Ally clears her throat. "But still," she argues defensively.
He laughs, and Ally could hear that sound for hours and love every second of it. "But still what?" Austin asks, his eyes twinkling. "You said you loved me years ago when I found your songbook. That milestone was reached back then."
"No," Ally pouts even though she realizes how ridiculous she sounds. "That wasn't the romantic kind of 'I love you' though."
"You knew you loved me, even back then." Austin retorts, inching towards her.
Ally rolls her eyes. "Stop being so egotistical."
"Then stop being so anal about the 'I love you' thing," Austin defends, moving closer. His nose is an inch from hers. He looks at her with his hazel eyes, and she doesn't look away. "I love you, Ally Dawson. And the reason that it wasn't climactic for you is because you knew it already."
Ally blinks and stammers out, "B-But Austin, that's—"
"Now stop talking."
And then he kisses her, and nothing else in the world matters anymore.
x
They're in New York when he decides to pop the big question.
Her cheeks are stained pink from the cold, and she swiftly maneuvers through the families on the Central Park ice rink. "This is so fun, Austin! We should've come here years ago!" Ally laughs and skates backwards in front of him.
He's struggling to keep up. "Of course," he puffs. "'S easy as pie."
Flecks of snow fall from the sky land on Ally's brunette locks, and he can't help but admire how beautiful she looks right then and there. "You look adorable right now," he admits, skating a bit forward to adjust her green knit beanie.
Ally giggles, and it sounds like wind chimes. "You're just saying that. But thanks anyway." She grins. "Watch this." She skates around to gain speed, then twirls in the air to land cleanly back on the ice.
Austin shakes his head. "I'll never understand how you can be so good at ice skating, yet so bad at dancing."
"Me neither," Ally confesses, laughing.
Austin smiles and clears his throat. "I'm gonna take a breather; you keep skating, all right?" His lips graze her forehead, and he skates to the edge of the ice and steps back into his shoes. He runs over to Dez. "Okay, Ally's distracted right now. Time for the ring."
Dez hands him a large brown box. "Austin, you're a great guy and all, but I, for one, suggest another proposal idea. I had the idea that you invite her into the Smithsonian, climb on top of one of the mammoth skeletons, place the ring on one of the tusks, and tell her she has to climb up to find the ring." Dez grins winningly. "Everyone loves a scavenger hunt."
Austin sighs. "Don't worry, Dez, I have it covered. And please don't tell me you're going to do that with Trish."
Dez doesn't respond.
Austin rolls his eyes and turns to the skating rink. "Ally!"
Ally, who's in the middle of a twirl, lands perfectly and skates to the edge. "What?"
"Come over here." He motions for her to come, and he sits down on one of the benches in the park and puts the box down.
Ally, carrying her skates, sits down next to him. "What's that?" she asks, noticing the large box.
"A Christmas Eve present," Austin explains. "Open it."
Ally gives him a questioning look, but she picks up the box and opens the lid. Inside is another, smaller box. "Austin—"
He grins. "Open it."
Ally does so, and enclosed is another box. She laughs, and repeats the process. Another box. "Austin."
"Keep going."
She repeats the process five more times until a small velvet box is revealed. She looks up at him. "What—"
Smiling, he gently takes the box from her and gets down on his knees in the snow. "Allyson Dawson. Will you please marry me?"
She swallows, and she can't even say a word so she just nods earnestly. His smile reaches from ear to ear, and Austin slides the ring on her finger. Austin leads her to stand up, and he brushes some snow off of her hair. "You're beautiful," he whispers, and he kisses her on the lips.
And she couldn't have been happier.
x
"More, Austin!"
He sighs, leaning on the kitchen table. "That was your sixth jar of pickles, Ally. I know you're craving them, but, can't you just, like, fight the temptation?"
"No. I need pickles," she demands emphatically. She finishes the last pickle in the jar and pushes the jar to the center of the table.
"Are you stuffed yet?" Austin inquires hopefully.
Ally taps her chin with her finger, pretending to be deep in thought. She shakes her head. "Nope. I want more."
"Please, Austin. Please." Ally looks up at him with innocent eyes.
He tries to shield himself from her all-too-powerful gaze, but it's no use. Austin sighs. "Fine."
And so Austin ends up making four trips to the grocery store in one day, three for more pickles, and one for when Ally decides her new craving is marshmallows.
It's all for love, though, so Austin doesn't really care.
x
"I love the things you do it's the way you do the things you love but it's not a love song, not a love song," six-year-old Melody and Hunter Moon chorus in unison.
Austin and Ally applaud for the seventh time. "That was really good, guys," Ally compliments, "but don't you think seven times is enough?"
They shake their heads. "But Dad's song is so good," Melody points out. Hunter nods.
"You know, your mom wrote that song," Austin points out, ruffling Hunter's hair, which is a little sweaty from having performed the song multiple times.
Melody smiles. "I know," she says. "Someday, I wanna be a songwriter like her!"
"And I'm going to be a rockstar!" Hunter falls to his knees and air-guitars. "Deer-neer-neer-neer!" he screeches, imitating the sound of an electric guitar.
Melody taps his shoulder, and Hunter stands up. "Now . . . an eighth time!" Melody yells. Hunter joins her as they begin, "You're always on my mind, I think about you all the time . . . um, no!"
Ally laughs as she watches them perform with invisible microphones and guitars. She leans over to whisper in Austin's ear. "You know, Austin, the really ironic thing about this song is that, it is actually a love song."
He chuckles. "It is."
x
"I just realized something, Austin," Ally announces, walking down the stairs to their living room. Austin's reclining on the couch, surfing through TV channels.
He turns to look at her. "And what is that?"
"We are doing absolutely nothing with our lives!" Ally replies, throwing her hands up in the air. "We have millions left from all seven of your albums, and your tours have brought in more money. We could probably buy a piece of the USA if we wanted to."
Austin laughs. "Unlikely. But what's your point?"
"We need to go places," Ally explains, her eyes shining. "The kids are out of the house, so we can do anything we want. Let's go to Rome! Let's go on a cruise!"
"Now that you mention it, that does sound nice," Austin considers, grinning. "And we are getting pretty old, so we'd better start crossing things off our bucket list."
"Sixty is not old," Ally argues, then frowns, sitting next to Austin on the couch. "Now that I think about it, it does sound old, when you say it out loud."
Austin chuckles. "We should go to the pyramids in Egypt."
"And the Eiffel Tower!"
"Let's go to Six Flags and hopefully not throw up too much!"
"We should visit the Great Wall of China!"
Ideas are thrown left and right, and Ally is one-hundred-percent sure that she and Austin will do all of those things because, well, they're Austin and Ally. Together, they can do anything.
x
"It's so cold, Austin," she complains in a quivering voice, pulling the blanket closer to her. "I'm so cold." Her voice is faint, almost a whisper, and Austin can tell it's almost her time.
He snuggles closer to her, and he reaches out his wrinkled hand to meet hers. "I'm sorry, honey. Want me to turn up the heating mattress?"
She shakes her head. "It's fine." A pause. "Austin?"
"Yes?"
"Remember that time you were playing on the drums with corndogs?"
The question catches him off guard. "Of course. That's how we met . . ." He counts in his mind, ". . . seventy-five years ago. Why?"
"No reason," she responds. A pause. "But do you remember when Dez ordered a kangaroo for your music video?"
Austin laughs a genuine laugh. "Of course. Remember Hater Girl?"
"How could I not?" Ally giggles.
And soon it turns into a flurry of memories: Remember when Dez filled our entire practice room with popcorn? Remember when I took you to the cloud-watching club? Remember your goose? Remember our first Grammy? Remember when you got over your stage fright? Remember when Demonica tried to win you over? Remember our wedding? Remember your proposal? Remember when we actually went to France? Remember when you kissed me in front of millions of people?
Soon, she's tearing up. Austin puts an arm around her. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing." She smiles. "I just never want to forget any of those things."
Austin grins. "Me neither."
x
She goes in her sleep.
He finds out when he wakes up, and her hand that he'd held every night is stone-cold.
Her eyes are closed.
He doesn't even make a sound; silent tears make their way down his cheeks. "You were one of a kind, Ally Dawson," he whispers in her ear, even though she can't hear a word he's saying.
He attempts to remember his last words to her, and he thinks back to the night before. Oh, right. They'd had that long bedtime conversation, and it had brought back so many lost memories lost with age. Austin reflects on how nostalgic it had felt.
Well, there couldn't have been a better way to go, could there?
"I love you." The words echo in their room, and suddenly it hits him that Ally will never be there to tell him "good morning," or to accompany him on their walks, or to sing him to sleep. He closes his eyes. "I love so much."
She was his, and he was hers.
And that's how it was from the beginning.
author's note: Well, there you have it. Hopefully, that wasn't too horrible. :/ Please, leave a review on how you think my first Austin & Ally fanfiction was! I appreciate every single reviewer. (: Also, please do not favorite without reviewing.
the rocker awards: overstreets and I are hosting the first ever Austin & Ally fanfction awards! Just PM either one of us with your email in this format, or else Fanfiction censors the email: ex—austinandally at gmail dot com. We'll send you updates on the awards, and add you to our favorite authors list on our joint account: The Rocker Awards. Our website is www dot therockerawards dot weebly dot com, and our tumblr is www dot austin-allyprompts dot tumblr dot com.
[not so] fun fact: I usually come up with my last lines first. This time, the last two lines came to me while I was in my bed, so I walked over to my laptop, typed the sentences in, and and went back to sleep. xD
Thanks for reading!
-Joyce [Cascading Rainbows]