AN: Hi! This is just a one-shot based on the song Need You Now by Lady Antebellum. Hope you like :) Feedback would be rad!

Need You Now

"I needed you and you just checked out and left! What, did you expect me to be happy or something?" I shout loudly to my girlfriend, not caring what neighbors I wake up.

"This is my job, Spencer! You know I want to be here for you! Obviously, I do-!"

"And you couldn't have fucking stayed, Ashley? You couldn't have taken a few weeks, a few days even, to spend with me? When I needed you?"

"And if they fire me? Then I have nothing, Spencer. I need this. I need this job; you know how much my music means to me-"

"Yeah, I do," I reply sassily. "Clearly more than I mean to you." I roll my eyes and walk in the oppsite direction.

"It's not even that, Spencer, and you know it."

"Do I, Ashley?" I walk back to her. "You, as my girlfriend, should know how much I've been going through! And you aren't here to be with me! Mom hates me, Dad dies, you're gone, I'm alone. Is that even fucking fair to me Ashley?"

"What about when my dad died? You were never there, either, Spencer! You weren't even at his funeral and you were so close with him!"

"Are you aware that I was still living at home and my mom wouldn't allow me to see you? Obviously it wasn't up to me, Ashley! You should know this!"

"Are you kidding me, Spencer? You've never gone against your parents. Even for me. Is that what I mean to you? Just like you needed me, I needed you. And you weren't around at that time, either! So you can't go accusing me!"

"Sorry I wasn't born to rebel against them, Ashley! Some of us actually listen to rules that are given; I actually care about the consequences!"

"This isn't about rules, this is about you just leaving me when I needed you and not sticking up for me! Sticking up for us!" She yells back.

"No, Ashley!" I shake my head and squeeze my eyes shut. I open them and inhale simultanously. "This," I gesture to her and myself. "Is about you never being here! Not even for me, just being here in general!" I throw my arms up. She doesn't say anything right away, so I go on, my voice calmer, but my mind climbing angry stairs. I remove all anger from my face. "Hey, Ashley, when's the last time we've had a day to ourselves?" I place a pointer finger to my chin. "A normal conversation even?" She opens her mouth to speak, but I do before she can, bringing back my emotion. "Do you have even the slightest idea of what I have to do for school, Ashley? All the stress I'm under? How many assignments I have, all the nights I have to stay up all night? For the assignments, of course; yet, even after I finish, I always wait for you. And guess what?" I rhetorically ask. "You're never there," I emphasize each of those three words. "No text, nothing!"

She shakes it off. "You're in college, Spencer, you have all the time in the world. You don't even have a job!" I inhale deeply and rub my hands over my face, hard, in frustration. "Why are you being so clingy?" She shouts at me. That word. That word that she knows I despise. She knows I hate it because I've told her so. I've told her how many times I've been called that and I lost the person. She told me she would never. I hate being called clingy. It makes me feel so bad about myself, so needy, so dependent. I am not dependent. I'm not needy...

Well, when it comes to Ashley, I am. I need her, especially through all of this, and she's never here. But if I'm clinging on to her, then fine. I can make her happier.

"I can't believe you just said that." I spit out in a quiet but harsh tone; I turn around and head for the door while simultaneously grabbing my purse.

"I'm here. And who's running now?" She follows me out and shouts from behind me. She follows me all the way to the parking lot. I turn around and stumble a little, as I am still walking, backwards now, in a fast pace.

"Don't bother calling. Don't even bother texting. I don't want to see you anymore. I don't want you. I don't need you." Before I can change my mind or Ashley can speak, I get into my car and drive off, ignoring my seat belt for the moment.

I wake up from my nightmare with a short and quick inhale which feels like a long needle has been jabbed into my heart. I realize just seconds after that this nightmare is a reality. I've been having this dream, based off the actual event, since it happened two months ago. They say that things get better with time, but each day is seemingly worse than the one before. I've had no communication with anybody unless I'm buying grocieries or I'm at school.

I told her not to call, but I wish she had.

Ashley's POV

Another night, another drink. Or third. I don't even keep count anymore. I spend my days sleeping and my nights drinking because what else is there to do? No Spencer, no music, no one. I don't even know what I do all night. I mostly do what I'm doing now: drinking and reminiscing, picture perfect memories scattered all around the floor.There must be hundreds of photos of us in this box. It's not a huge box, but it's small enough to fit under my bed. I pull it out every night. It's like my own little sick routine: drink, browse, sob. It's my own fault, though. At least the cutting stopped. I try my best not to do that.

I've known Spencer since we were sixteen, so that's six years. Out of those six, I've been in love with her for four of them. We've been together for three. I should say we were together for three rather than using the present tense. I don't like to think about the rockiness that kept building up and exploded at the event two months ago, so I drink to forget about it. Then I sleep until night rolls around again. And repeat. It's unhealthy, but I have nothing to be healthy for.

From the floor, I look up to my table at my phone. If I lean forward slightly, I'm sure I could reach it. If I reach it, then what? It's not like I have the guts to call. She told me not to. If she wanted me, she would have called by now. She doesn't want me. Every day, or rather every night, I always have to fight off the urge to call her. It's so hard to live without her. I can't deal with it. It hurts so much.

Despite my fighting off this urge, yet again, my inner demons finally take over me. I uncross my legs and get on my knees, reaching for the phone 'cause I can't fight it anymore. This is progress for me. I never touch my phone anymore. I charge it like once a week. Who's there to talk to? I don't talk to the record company people anymore, I don't talk to Christine, Kyla stopped calling after a couple of weeks. Shows how appreciated I am.

Every day is just another disappointment. I know she doesn't think about me because why would she? But still, I wonder if I ever cross your mind. Do you still hate me? Do you ever regret what happened between us? I do. That's the worst thing that has ever happened in my life aside from Dad's death. If you don't think about me, that's alright; but for me it happens all the time.

Spencer's POV

I'm angry! I'm really angry! I can't take this!

After minutes of failed attempts of falling back to sleep, I abruptly sit up. I turn on my lamp next to me. I feel like smoke is coming out of my ears. Why hasn't she called me? I know I told her not to, but if she was ever really in love with me, she'd fight for me! She wouldn't give up! Has she given up?

I jump out of bed and I storm straight to the wall opposite me. On my way there, I see the dozens of photos of Ashley and I that are taped to my wall. I throw my hands straight to it and I rip them off in a hurry. My hands swipe over each photo and I scrape them all down with my finger nails, hearing the ripping of the tape and ignoring the paint that's being ripped off with it. I don't care if the photos get crinkled or even ripped. I want them down. If she isn't calling and there is no hope, it's just going to be worse seeing such a happy couple in photos everyday. We aren't happy. Well, I'm not happy; I have no clue what she's like, but I know that we aren't a happy couple anymore. And as much as I said to her, I know that I wish we were. I wish things were simple like how they used to be between us. However much I tell myself that I'm not, I am still in love with her and I don't know if I will ever get rid of this feeling.

It's a quarter after one. What am I supposed to do at this time of night? No one is awake. And if they are, I don't even know them. Everyone I know is gone. I'm all alone. I want to know what Ashley is doing right now. Probably sleeping. Maybe at a club. She might even be with a girlfriend. A girlfriend who isn't me. That thought literally hurts my heart. I did this to myself. I need you now.

I said I wouldn't call. Another thing I've been telling myself. I'm stubborn and I hate that. I keep telling myself that I won't go back on what I told myself, which is that I will not call her again. Or text her. Get in contact with her in any way. It's so hard. I need her so bad. It hurts physically and emotionally to not talk to or be with her.

I kneel on the floor after ripping off all photos from the first wall, all the photos scattered around my legs and under them. In front of my eyes is a photo of Ashley and I kissing and smiling into it. This breaks me. I throw my forehead against the cool photo on this hot summer night. It's the closest I can ever get to Ashley again. I quickly move my head up, careful not to stain this photo or any others with my tears. I can't hurt these photos. They're all I'll ever have of her. I need them.

I need her.

My feet are up and sprinting into my kitchen. My eyes and hands feel all over for my cell phone. I used to keep it with me, but after figuring she won't call, I started leaving anywhere besides near me. I know that if it is near me, I'll break my own promise which is what I'm doing right now. I've lost all control and I need you now. I move all the papers off of my table and they all fly down to the floor. Normally I'd hate that, as they were messy but in specific orders, but that isn't my priority right now. I need her. I finally find it in the crook of one of the couch cushions. I find Ashley's contact and I'm about to call her when I begin thinking of the consequences. What if she's no longer single? What if she still hates me? I'm going to make a fool out of myself. On the other hand, if I never try, I will never know. I don't know how I can do without. I just need you now.

Ashley's POV

Another shot of whiskey. I gather up all of the photos with shaking hands and place them back in their beloved box. I'm not dumb enough to throw these out. I need these. They're my last reminders of the girl I used to know. The girl I still am in love with.

I stumble into the short hallway and make my way to the living room. I try to ignore my double vision and can't stop looking at the door. Maybe if I stare at it hard and long enough, she'll just be here. By some miracle, she'll come back. And I'll get my chance to tell her how sorry I am. And how much I need her. And ultimately, how much I am in love with her. I keep wishing you'd come sweeping in the way you did before. I barely even locked my door-that's how often she was at my loft. Even when I did lock it, she had her own key. It's like she lived here, but she didn't. Because of me, she lived in her own apartment that she had to pay for on her own since her mother disowned her. Again, because of me. Jesus, it's no wonder she hates me. I wish I could make it better.

I stand for a maximum of ten minutes before I have to sit. My mind, as well as my vision, is going crazy. My eyes never leave the door. I know it isn't possible in the slightest, but I can't help but wonder if I ever cross your mind. I don't think I do. She's perfect and I'm a mess. She can find love easily and I'm going to die alone. She's happy and I'm an emotional wreck. I wish she had the idea of me being miserable in her head. I wish she knew how much I think about her. She takes up every thought in my mind and everything I do revolves around her. I'm hopelessly devoted to her and she doesn't even know it. If she doesn't think about me, then I guess that's that; but for me it happens all the time. Literally, all the time. Every thought. It sounds weird when I say it, I know, but it's much different in my mind. I just need her. So bad.

Spencer's POV

It's a quarter after one, I'm a little drunk. With the last gulp of vodka, I drop the class bottle and it falls silently until reaching the tile floor of my kitchen, landing with a crash and sending little pieces of glass in every direction. I step in the opposite direction of where it fell. My door and I are face-to-face. I glance to the key holder to it's right and I think about what I could do. I know where she lives. I could just leave here. Unless she moved, but I won't know until I get there. Ashley likes to run away from things, so I wouldn't be surprised if she did move. It doesn't matter; I need you now.

I hold up my cell that has remained in my opposite hand. Ashley's number is still there. All I need to do is press call. Said I wouldn't call, but then again, I said a lot of things that I wouldn't do but I've done. I've lost all control; this is another thing I broke my promise about. Everything is just out of proportion. I never get drunk. I can't do this. I can't just drink and avoid my problems. How can I expect myself to ever be happy again if I don't go after her? I have to make this right. I need you now.

Despite all consequences, I don't know how I can do without. Any negative outcome would be worth it because at least I tried. Right? What if she feels the same? What if, by some chance, she wants me back, too? The chances are slim, but they aren't impossible. I can do this. I can get my girl back. I didn't spend three years with her for nothing. The love was there! It's still alive! I just need you now.

Ashley's POV

I break my stare with my door and walk to the bathroom. I open the medicine cabinet and search through each shelf, knocking down every item in the way, determined to find the object I'm looking for. I'd rather hurt than feel nothing at all.

I pull my shorts up to reveal previous scars from this same blade. Without thinking any longer, I wipe the blade over my upper thigh, my hand shaking but ignoring the stinging. I watch the blood drip down all the way to my knee. Why am I doing this? Stop it, Ashley! You can't do this!

It's a quarter after one, I'm all alone. If I had Spencer, I wouldn't've broken into this terrible habit. My thighs would be scar free and I would be happy. I wouldn't be this Ashley. I don't know who this Ashley is. I don't like her and I want her to go away. The only way to make her go away is to get Spencer back. I need you now.

I run back out to where my phone is, ignoring the tiny droplets of blood bouncing to the carpet. I search through my contacts and I spot Spencer's. I said I wouldn't call, but I'm a little drunk. Even when I'm sober I have no brain. I'm losing my willpower to not call and gaining the willingness to call. I need you now. Even if I wasn't drunk, I'd still need you. I need to stop doing this: the drinking, the cutting, the sleep all day and stay up all night shit. I can't keep living like this. Spencer doesn't like this. I wonder what she would say if she knew how I spent my days. I don't know how I can do without, I just need you now. I'm tired of thinking "what if" everyday. I need to do something! I need to get Spencer back! I should have fought for her a long time ago when I had a better chance! Even though I doubt she thinks about me, I'm going to go find her. I need to talk to her. I need to see her.

I throw my phone down, deciding that isn't the route I need to see her. I don't even bother putting on shoes. I just grab my keys from the bar and run to the door, eager to get there. I will bang on her door until she opens up and lets me in.

My plan goes down the tubes when I move the door from my view to see a drunken and teary-eyed Spencer Carlin standing in my way.

Spencer's POV

I didn't get a chance to even knock; the door flew open. She is in front of me. And she is as beautiful as she was two months ago. I look her up and down. Her curls are everywhere, but I don't mind it. Her face is clear besides the small bags under her eyes and wet face. Her face is clear of make up and she's still so pretty. She's wearing a plain white t-shirt with her normal boxers that I've worn before. She's barefoot and she has her keys in her right hand. My eyes focus their attention on a strip of red on her red leg. It goes under her shorts and ends below her knee. I know that it's blood, but I don't know how it happened. I'm concerned.

I boldly place my hand out and my right pointer finger strides across a bloodied area. It's fresh because it's still wet.

"Ashley," my raspy and dry voice addresses her for the first time in two, long months. "What ha-"

"You came back." She cuts me off. Her voice is also dry and sounds tired and weak. It's raspier than ever.

I stand upright and look at her eyes again. They look worn out. And her pupils don't look normal; I think she's drunk. She drops the keys from her side which startles me. I look back up at her eyes and they're filling up with tears quickly. Her lips are quavering and I know she is trying so hard not to cry. They finally spill over.

"Ash-" I take a small step toward her, afraid of what she might do.

She pulls me into a hug. Her arms fly around my neck, tightly, and her head rests just under my shoulder. I grab her around her lower back and mold back into our old and familiar form. I can feel the blood on my leg now and luckily I have no open wounds. Her tears are soaking up my shirt, but I don't care because mine are probably doing the same.

"You came back." She repeats, though this time her voice is muffled and shaky from crying so hard.

"I'm so sorry, Ashley. I'm so, so sorry." I reply in the same shaky voice.

"I need you so bad, Spencer. I'll do anything. I need you. I'm so sorry. Please take me back. I'll do anything. I need you."

I didn't expect this from her! My stubborn, tough Ashley has dropped all walls she's ever built. She wants me. My Ashley wants me back. I want her more.

"I need you, too, Ashley. I need you so much. I'm so sorry. I wish I could take back everything I said. I'm sorry."

She moves her face up to look at mine. "I'm sorry I never made time for you. You're so much more important than any other thing in my life. I'm sorry I accused you of things and I'm sorry I made you so upset. I know how much you hate being called clingy, and I did it anyway," When she said it, it stung slightly less than the last time she said the word. "I'm a bitch, I know, but I love you too much and I'm sorry I didn't come back earlier. I just thought you didn't want me." She finally finishes through sobs, tears falling off of her face all the while.

"I'm sorry I was clinging on to you. I'm sorry. I just had no one else-"

"Don't apologize. I should have been there for you, Spencer!" Her voice raises. "I put stupid music in front of the most important person in my life! None of those people matter! Only you, Spencer! These have been the worst months of my life without you."

"They've been my worst too, Ash. I did want you to call. I wanted to call you so bad myself, but I'm so goddamn hard-headed and stupid for not doing it earlier. My life is nothing without you in it, Ashley. I love you so much that I can't think straight." No time for puns.

"I love you, too, Spencer. So damn much," And she kisses me. She barely finishes her sentence before her lips are attached to mine. They're soft and taste of a strong alcohol, but they still have the taste of Ashley that I'm addicted to. I haven't been able to do this for months. She pulls apart. "Move in with me." Our faces are mere inches apart.

"Okay...okay," I start out slow before repeating myself and nodding my head for emphasis. Her lips are back on mine and nothing else matters anymore except for the lives of Ashley and I, together, as one.

She takes my left hand and silently leads me away from her front door. After a few steps, I pull back and she looks confused, scared even. "What happened?" I state more than ask, looking down at her leg.

"Oh, it's-it's nothing." She tries to rub the blood away, but it's still wet and it just smears everywhere.

"Come on," I grab her arm with my hand and lead her down the familiar hallway and into the bathroom. I beckon her to sit, which she does. I slowly pull up on the shorts to see where the blood is coming from. "Oh my God. Ashley," There are a few scars on the top of her thigh and one fresh one which is where the blood is still coming out of. "Ashley, why?" I look up at her with tears in my eyes. She's avoiding my eye contact by just staring at her leg, tears threatening to fall.

"I'm sorry, Spencer." Her voice cracks. It's my fault and I know it.

"Why the hell would you do this? Oh my God, Ashley, baby, I'm so sorry. I did this. It's my fault. I shouldn't have-"

"It's not your fault. Stop it." We're both crying now. I don't care what she says; I caused her to do this!

"Promise me you'll never do it again," She doesn't look up. "Promise me, Ashley!"

"I promise." She speaks up quicker this time.

I get a paper towel wet and I wipe up the blood that's now drying on her leg. I get another one and place it on her cut, holding it there gently. Before asking, I spot the blade by her sink. I place her hand over the wet towel on her leg; she watches me as I pick up the blade carefully. I walk quickly to the kitchen and dispose of it, making sure she'll never do it again. I return to her and I dry off the cut and I place several small bandaids over it since that's all she has. I wash her bloodied hands as well as mine before helping her up.

We walk down the same hallway, a little further this time, to her bedroom. We let go of each others hands and, instinctively, go toward our usual sides of her bed. I slide under only one blanket seeing as it is July and her window is open. Before I can turn to face her, I feel her warm body against my back. Her left arm slides across and holds my stomach; her forehead, I'm assuming, is resting against my neck, her light breathing hitting just below. I relax my body and ease myself into her, molding to our normal shapes. My right hand grabs hers and I interlace our fingers.

"You mean more to me than anything in this world. No music, job, or money can ever mean more to me than you do. I'm sorry I had to make us go through this to realize that," Her voice is barely audible. "I'm going to spend the rest of my life proving my love to you. Okay, Spencer? I can't lose you again. I need you."

"I need you, too," I respond in the same barely audible voice. "You are the most important person in my life. I'm sorry I've been so afraid. No more secrets, okay? I love you and I'm not going to feel ashamed about that because it's nothing to feel ashamed over. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you when you needed me, but I will forever be here for you. Always. I'm sorry, Ashley."

"It's okay, Spencer. Just, never leave me again. Please." I hear the desperation in her voice and I know she can probably hear mine, too.

"As long as you never leave me."

"I won't."

"Promise?"

"I promise you I will never leave," She pauses and I assume I can sleep now, but soon her soft voice pipes up. "Do you?"

"I promise."