Disclaimer: I own nothing SON related! Sadly. D:
A/N: Schools a bitch. The end. P.S. Omgomgomg Pushing Daisies is starting up again October 1st, 3 days before my birthday! :D
Songs used: Boats & Birds by Gregory and The Hawk; Gray or Blue by Jaymay (which will come into play in future chapters); Brown Eyed Girl by Van Morrison.
A/N for story: I wrote the first quarter of this chapter from my phone haha. Uhh.. I feel this is overly cheesy. Whoo. But it's cute, I suppose. This is just a filler chapter. Ohhh, the plans I have for this story! Makes me so excited just thinking about it. Umm, I kind of like writing Ashleys POV now, before I loathed it. But it just seems easier than Spencers now haha. I always feel like I'm forgetting to tell you guys so much. Oh yeah, Italicized + present tense equals dreams/flashbacks. Italicized + past tense equals flashbacks. Uhuhuhuh... I beta'ed this myself as usual...

It's strange. With each footstep, my heart beats echo the pace. I feel it beating against my chest, sometimes I even hear it. Its hollow sound echoing throughout my head as if that's where it was stationed, rather than the torn cavity built in my chest. But it doesn't pain me. It doesn't make me wish that Kyla had found me a minute later rather than when she did. It doesn't make me wonder what this indescribable pain is, or even where it's coming from. It has all the symptoms of it though. The blistering warmth in my chest. The light chill that travels through my body. I only shake gently now. Only my palms sweat and I find myself occasionally wiping them across my jeans. But I can pinpoint the reason.

If you'll be my star, I'll be your sky. We travel down the gravel slope and I'm struggling to stand erect. I glance a few feet in front of me towards the left of the hill. Her long blond hair swaying slightly with the timid breeze. She bounces down the uneven stones from hell with ease. She looks over her shoulder back at me and smiles. My breath catches in my throat. My heart beats rapidly and makes its existence clearly evident. I bite my lip and smile back at her. When she turns back around I let out a quiet sigh, my breath making a small cloud appear in front of me.

She has the strangest effect on me. These past few weeks I've been taking note of all of the little things she does. You could hide underneath me. The way she bites her lip when she's nervous. Or the way she adverts her gaze when she lies to the older nurses, the ones that have treated me better than my own mother has. The way she plays with her hands when she doesn't want to look me in the eye. The way she tilts her head to the side and lets out that smile that makes this cold heart of mine melt. The way she makes jittery movements with her legs or arms, clearly showing her impatience. Yet, she has never shown impatience with me. I'm not easy. I can't explain my feelings very well, yet she somehow always knows the right thing to say or do to have all my inner emotions spill out.

Many of us don't realize it, but when you spend too much time with someone, you begin to adapt around them. You change your appearance, you watch what you say, you adapt to their lifestyle. And come out at night. I haven't once had to change my ways. It's as if for the first time in my life, someone excepts me for who I truly am. A tattered soul with a broken body and wrists that have stories to tell.

When I turn jet black, and show off your light. We finally make it to even ground and I wobble over to her, clutching my jacket closer to me. It's as if we are magnets. Attracting and repelling. Working against the forces that keep us apart, before eventually colliding with each other. We're side by side now. Her chin tucked into her chest and her golden hair blocking the view of her face from me. She flips her hair behind her shoulder and tilts her head to the left, smiling at me in the process. I can feel her body heat radiating against my left arm, even through my thick clothes. I sway uneasily and look down, reminding myself to keep moving my feet. Left, right, left and right. Before I know it, our sides are colliding softly. She giggles as I mumble an apology. I tell her it's because I walk diagonally, and that she should stand to the right of me. She raises her eyebrows at me and smiles as I kick myself mentally for coming up with a lame excuse. We continue walking to the parking lot, cars finally coming into view. I live to let you shine. I try to shift more to the right, creating some space between us. She hums a soft song to herself and it almost sounds familiar. It sends a warm shiver through my body and makes my palms begin to sweat. Soon enough, my left hand brushes against her right. It happens almost in slow motion. The feeling of her fingertips caressing my palm, tracing delicate patterns against it. Soon they slip through the gaps of my own fingers and she hooks her pinky with mine. It's a brief contact that makes the lump in my throat ten times bigger, and makes a thin sheet of sweat form on my brow. She uncurls her pinky and drops her hand to her side. I step away once more, following the white line painted on the concrete. I walk it as if it were a tight rope, one foot in front of the other. Her car is in sight now and I'm struggling to keep walking in a straight line. I live to let you shine. Before my left foot can venture off the edge, her right arm is flushed against my left.

It's as if we are magnets.

But you can skyrocket away from me. The car ride is silent, besides the soft hum of the engine and the gentle rattling of the windows. It's not awkward silence. It's comfortable silence. Silence that wraps itself around me and makes me feel as though I am home. The road that I've seemed to memorize like the back of my hand is surrounded by tall Birch trees. They've begun to shed their orange and yellow leaves, a few dropping to the windshield before sliding across it from the moderate speed. The gray asphalt obviously worn from the years is slightly uneven in places that hundreds of cars before us have traveled. I look over at her and her brow is furrowed. She's thinking. She must have noticed me staring at her from the corner of her eye because she looks over at me. Our eyes meet and I'm drowning. And never come back, if you find another galaxy. She's silently telling me that she has something she wants to tell me. Something that's been bothering her ever since I was dragged into the ward. She's telling me that it could be life changing. And then all of a sudden her eyes become a different shade and they're unreadable. She tears her eyes away from mine and turns her attention back to the empty road in front of us. I close my eyes and focus in on her breathing. Her slow and steady breaths rocking me to sleep. My muscles go limp and my breathing matches hers. I settle my head against the side of the car and let sleep overcome me.

I watch from my seat on the counter as she runs around my kitchen, her 'Kiss the Cook' apron wrapping around her slim body perfectly. Her hair tied back loosely in a ponytail. She rushes back to the left side of the kitchen and bends over, peeking into the oven. She mumbles a series of profanity as she quickly whips the dish towel from it's place and opens the oven, a light blanket of smoke escapes into the air. She quickly picks up the plate and carries it over to the island located in the middle of the kitchen. She walks back over to the oven door to close it and I look at what she's pulled out. I'm not exactly sure what it is, but it's kind of round…. And black. Very, very black. I watch as she walks over to the… thing and pokes at it with a fork. She lets out a unhappy groan and whips off her apron before leaning the small of her back against the counter, facing me. I've got an amused smile of my face, which quickly fades when I see frustrated tears threatening to spill from her eyes.

"Please don't cry." I say softly. She lets out a watery sigh as she grips the edge of the counter to the sides of her.

"I just wanted this to be perfect," She whispers. "It's your last night in town and I just wanted this to be so perfect. You're going to be away from home for months... And I just…." She wipes away the tears streaming down her cheeks with the palms of her hands.

"Spence, it's okay." She lets out another watery gasp.

"No! It's not okay! You're going to be thousands of miles away and I'm going to be here, sitting at home watching you on T.V., on the internet even. Watching thousands of girls throw themselves at you and all I can do is wish you were home." I settle deeper into granite counter and grip the edges loosely with both hands.

"Then come with me." She sniffles and shakes her head slightly.

"What?"

"Wherever you are is where my heart is. Spence, you are my home. I could care less where in the world I am. Or what road I'm traveling along, as long as you're riding shotgun, I'm home." I lift up my hand to eye level, I curl and uncurl my fingers into my palm in a come here motion. She maneuvers her way between my legs and I can feel her prominent hipbones pressing into my inner thighs. She tilts her chin into her chest slightly and I kiss the top of her forehead before tilting her head upwards. Her eyes are closed as I cup her cheeks and wipe the remaining tears with the pads of my thumbs. "Come with me, Spence." I say against her soft cheek before placing a soft kiss on it. I repeat the action to the other cheek and rub the tip of my nose against hers. I cover every inch of her face with soft, barely there kisses. She tilts her head until my lips connect with hers. She replies with a whisper,

"Okay."

Far from here, with more room to fly. I feel her shake my left arm. My eyes lazily open and meet her intense gaze and I'm suddenly questioning whether her eyes are truly blue or gray. She informs me we're here and I unbuckle myself and tumble out of the car into the cold Ohio breeze. I gaze over the top of the car to the only other building I've been to since I've checked into the ward. When Spencer promises you something, you've got her word. Two days after we decided that I should get back into music, she surprised me by telling me that she found an old recording studio that I could use as a practice space. She said that a close friend of hers owns it and now uses some of the rooms as an art studio when she's in town. Just leave me your stardust to remember you by.

We walk into the room and quickly take our places, her on the leather couch against the wall and myself at the piano, placed slightly against the adjacent wall. My fingers rest against the keys and press down softly. "I'm feeling so helpless now…." Immediately, the melody that has been repeating through my head finds it's way into reality. I begin writing down lyrics onto the notepad placed on top of the piano. I glance around hoping there's something that even resembles a guitar, "My guitar is not around…" I chuckle to myself. Actually, wait. I kind of like that. I write it down as well. I move around the room and mess around with several instruments before settling with the xylophone. I carry the small contraption and place it next to my notepad. I tap each of the paddles with the mallets before realizing… I don't even know how to play the xylophone. "And I'm struggling with the xylophone…" I find a note I like and tap it repeatedly. I return to the piano and repeat the notes from earlier, "To make these feelings sound…" I belt out into the room. I glance up to the couch and find it empty. My movements come to a slow stop and I scratch my head. She was just here wasn't she? As if on cue, the door opens. She's got a sly smile on her face as she enters. If you'll be my boat, I'll be your sea.

"I've got something for you." She reveals the fairly large present to me. I'm surprised I hadn't seen it when she walked in. A smile instantly finds a home on my face. It feels like years since I've seen a guitar. It's sleek black base feeling so familiar as I rest my arm on top of it. I let my fingers graze against the wire strings. She tells me that it was just sitting in the back of her closet and that I'd put it to better use. A depth of pure blue, just to probe curiosity. I ask if she plays. She smiles modestly and says a little. That an old friend used to teach her and that's who she actually got the guitar from. I trace my hand all along it and my breathing begins to pick up. Ebbing and flowing and pushed by the breeze. I look at the side of the base my arm is resting upon. I trace the carving with the tips of my fingers. Each letter carved deep into the wood base. S.I.D. A shiver runs through my body and the shaking begins almost instantly. My eyes flutter shut and my teeth begin chatter. I live to make you free.

She pushed at my side slightly and let out at laugh before rolling onto her back. I settled onto watching one cloud crawl against the baby blue sky.

"Spence, I can't change my name. My names famoussss… You change your name." I maneuvered myself deeper into the blanket laid across the soft grass.

"Spencer Isabelle Davies does not sound half as good as Ashley Marie Carlin."

I snorted and move my head slightly to the left. I studied her profile. Her lips were slightly agape. Her long eyelashes danced upon her eyelids. "Can't we hyphenate it?" I suggested. "Besides, you just turned 17. We've got at least another year to think about our last names before we get married." She raised herself onto her elbows.

"You want to get married at 18?" She asked in disbelief. I sat up and crossed my legs Indian style. I reached for my guitar, it's black base fitting perfectly against me. I turned to face her and fingered a few chords. She propped herself more prominently against her elbows and tilted her head back, letting her blonde hair flow freely.

"I want to get married to you as soon as I can." I admitted softly. She lifted her head until she met my gaze. Her azure eyes made my palms sweat as I looked down and wiped my hands against my jeans.

"Why?" I scratched at my hair that was tied in a ponytail. She reached up and tucked my bangs behind my left ear.

"So then I can kiss you anytime I want," I said in a southern drawl, quoting 'Sweet Home Alabama,' the movie we had seen the night before. My tone became serious. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Spencer Carlin. I want to put a giant rock on your finger and let everyone know that you're mine." She giggled and ran a hand through her hair.

"How long have you been thinking about this?" I bit my lip and cleared my throat.

"Ever since I first saw you." I could see her let out a smile and blush.

"Have you written your vows?" she said sarcastically. I smiled,

"I've got an idea." She studied my features and let out a little smile,

"Well, let's hear it then." I cleared my throat and smirked, suddenly having an idea.

"Spencer." I grabbed her right hand between both of mine and held it with great affection. My voice dropped an octave, "You's a bad mama-jama." I looked around and pretended to see someone, "Paula, you don't have to worry about anythinggg.. I'll take good care of her," I placed my hand in front of my mouth, blocking her view of my lips. "But if you knew what this girl did in the bedroom, you'd take her to church more often!" I whispered loudly.

"Ash!" I chuckled slightly as she shoved me. "Seriously, please? "

I cleared my throat and tried again, "Spencer Isabelle Carlin, from the first time I ever laid eyes on you, I knew that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. Now I truly can. I want to give you everything, Spence. And even though I know I won't be able to give you the world, I'll sure as hell try. I don't need to marry you to be happy. But this just gives me a reason to tell everyone I come in contact with that the love of my life loves me enough to want to be mine as well. I want to shout my love for you from rooftops. I want to wake up to your baby blues every morning and fall asleep to your steady breathing every night. I want to be the reason you smile and never be the reason you cry. I told you before that I'm not easy to be with. But I'll tell you the worst of me but try and give you the best of me, because you don't deserve less. I'll tell you the truth, when I really don't want to. And somehow communicate some of the overwhelming, undying, overpowering, unconditional love I have for you. You've made me the happiest girl in the world, I can't wait to spend the rest of my life returning the favor." She sat up straight and looked at me with wide eyes, "I dunno… something like that, I suppose." She jerked forward suddenly and latched her lips onto mine. I could feel her warm tears trail down her cheeks, down my cheeks. She rested her forehead against mine.

"I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you." She said against my lips. I began to shake slightly with excitement.

"So are we hyphenating our last names?" She shook her head, moving mine in the process.

"No. I want everyone to know I am yours." We stayed like that for a moment before jumping at her phone ringing. She backed away and reached for it in her purse. It must have been her mother, she kept rolling her eyes throughout the whole conversation. She faced forward as I positioned myself to watch her. I fumbled with my keys, settling on my brass house key, the sharpest of them all. I took precious care of my guitars, Spencer knew this. Which is why her eyes widened as I pressed the tip of my key against the thin wood. I kept my eyes on hers as I carved a deep 'S'. She kept shaking her head as I carved an 'I'. She hung up her phone and dropped it to the ground as I began to carve the next letter. I began to trace a 'C' before she reached out and stilled my hand with her own. I looked up at her as she shook her head, "I'm yours, Davies." I quickly carved a 'D' before placing the guitar off to the side. She tackled me until I laid flat against the ground, her lips tight against mine. She maneuvered herself between my bent knees and laid herself flat against me. She laid her right cheek flat against my chest, my chin rested on the top of her head.

"What would you like to do now, Mrs. Davies?" I could feel her chuckle rumble through my chest. She laced her left hand with my right, as I wrapped my remaining hand around the small of her back.

When she spoke again, her voice was undeniably husky. "Let's get started on little Spashley babies."

"Ashley? Are you okay?"

I open my watery eyes to find hers staring so intently at me. I can feel the familiar tingle in my nose and my wrists feel like they're on fire. I live to make you free. She asks me if she did something wrong. Before I can answer her, her eyes widen. She quickly cups my cheek and wipes my upper lip with her thumb. She pulls her hand back and rushes over to the couch, leaving me in place. I touch my index and middle finger to where my face feels on fire due to her touch. I pull it back to see red liquid all over my fingers. She comes back with a small towel and holds it to my upper lip, scooting me over to the couch. She sits on one end and motions me to lie down. She tilts my head back further into her lap as I look back up at her, her ocean eyes staring down at me with such concern. But you can set sail to the west, if you want to.

We sit in silence, our eyes never leaving each others. She smooths back my hair with a flat hand in one swift motion, starting from my forehead. She removes the towel from my face, but makes no motion to move. I revel in her warmth, in her smell, in her touch. "When did you start doing drugs?" She asks nonchalantly, as if the answer won't surprise her. I tell her that I can't remember and she rephrases her question, "Why did you start doing drugs?" I've heard this question so many times, I'm about to reply with the typical smart ass remark when I notice the worry in her eyes. I try and think back. And past the horizon, till I can't even see you. I tell her that I'm not sure. That it's probably because of my messed up childhood. I had a neglectful mother that had a new rich boyfriend every week and only liked me because of my pretty bank account. I tell her that I had a wild father that was ten times better than my mother was, when he was around three days out of the year. That those were the only days when I felt alive. When he used to sing me to sleep, the song that to this day makes me feel like I'm home and that I'm just a young child being tucked in by her father. She doesn't push the subject like normal people would. She doesn't ask what song, she just continues to look at me. Far from here, where the beaches are wide. I conclude that I probably started because of these dreams I keep having.

She straightens up and tilts her head. "Dreams? A-about what?" I get up from her lap and move around until my back is against the cushions. Just leave me your wake to remember you by.

"Sometimes about my dad, singing me to sleep. But most of the time they're about an angel," I admit softly. "Her blond hair and blue eyes haunting my dreams in the most pleasurable ways." She's got a pensive look on her face. "At first I thought it was you," I watch as she retracts back a little. "But it can't be you." I shake my head and she crosses her arms. "Because your eyes are brighter than hers. Your smile is more breathtaking, your touch is warmer…. But there's definitely a resemblance. I can't quite put my finger on it though…" She nods her head and bites her lip. She tells me that I should start practicing again, that we've got to get back soon. I tell her that I'm done for the day, that I'm kind of distracted. If you'll be my star, I'll be your sky.

She gets up silently from the couch and moves over to the piano. You can hide underneath me and come out at night. I ask if she plays and she says no. I move behind her and place my hands on either sides of her. I'm trying so hard not to shake. Her right cheek brushes against mine slightly every time she moves her head. I bite my lip as she asks me to teach her something. When I turn jet black and show off your light. I grasp her wrist gently and position her hands to where I want them to be. I move her fingers onto each key and tell her to press down. I barely move and my lips brush against the shell of her ear. I quickly move away and sit on the bench next to her.

"Spence, will you please tell me what where we're going?" She chuckled.

"Chill out, Ash. We're in your house." I could feel her fingers trail the blindfold until she untied it. I looked over at the grand piano and faked surprise.

"OHMYGOD, my piano! Oh thank you, Spence! Thank you!" I jumped up and down and she hip bumped me. She moved over to the bench and cleared her throat.

"I know I probably won't live up to your dad singing it, but it's worth a shot." She laid her fingers across the keys and began to play a familiar tune. "You are, my brown eyed girl…"

I live to let you shine. She begins pulling a series of chords together quickly. Each chord sending chills down my spine. She's humming a song that I feel like I should know the words to, but my mind is blank. She sings out into the room softly, barely heard over the loud piano. But I hear her, and my heart stops.

"In the misty morning fog, our hearts a-thumpin' and you…" She leans over to my side slightly to reach a chord and then moves back, "My brown eyed girl." She slows the tempo and looks me in the eye as the last chord rings out into the room, I can't help but stare at her lips,

"You, my brown eyed girl."
I begin to shake. She tells me that she learned it a while ago, to play it for her friend. She says that she thought it was fitting. I tell her that it's the song my father used to sing all the time. She doesn't say anything, she just nods her head. I'm in awe when she speaks again.

"I can see why. It's like the song was written for you."

I live to let you shine.

Hi there. :D

u.luv.me: :O You said hella! Hahaha. I thought that was just a California thing... unless you are from California. Then WADDUPPP! Cali, for the win. :) Hehehe. And yes, Aiden. Stupid boy. I wanted him to sound like a douche. Idk, what I'm going to do with him, I'll either have everyone hate him, or have everyone love him.
jstareader: SO VIOLENT! ... But so funny too hehehe. No, no, he is not dying in this fic... Or maybe... :)
niknakniki: Thank you. :D Your username is a tongue twister haha.
addy.ction: Hehehe. Here's another dose! :D Ohhh, your username. So clever! Hahaha.
333: I hope this didn't give you a cheesy-ness overdose haha.
MDVL: Whoo, I'm glad I'm capturing Kyla pretty well... I don't really pay attention to her character in the show. :X Hehehe. Okay, okay. Not really.
kaila5707: I'm glad you liked that line haha. My friend made me write it in.
Usagi-Neko: Don't worry! She'll remember... soon... possibly.
fojoa: ... Weren't you Farah A? Or am I just going crazy? Hahaha. Anyways, I read your review during class and I laughed hahaha. It definitely DID make our internet bond stronger haha.
MasterDanniSoN2: Here's another chapter for you! :D
awe: I know what you mean. But I think slowly developing a story makes it that much more exciting, ya know? I used to just wait maybe 2 chapters before introducing the whole plot/scheme, but this way, it's a longer story! :D
TROPPER12: Hehe I'm glad you liked that line. You can thank Momo The Great for that one. She was kind enough to let me use it! I don't think I could of put it any better.
Movies7Too: I seriously tried looking up what FOF means... and I still have no clue. Wtf. Someone should write a book on Fanfiction terms. LOL at Aiden not having a parachute. I'm not going to kill him off! ...Yet. ;)
xvolcom11x: I'm glad you like both POV's. At first I thought it'd be confusing, but I've been getting pretty good feedback from you guys!
chloedarko: Eff high class, that was high school! It's all about raging hormones. Hahaha.
JustMeInLove: I definitely am a tease. :) But this is rated T! Pg-13 even. I don't even know if I could write more than that... That would definitely be an interesting experience haha. And yes, Spashley love is the best love.
Conscious: Hehehe that last sentence made me laugh. You're actually the reason I started cranking out this chapter! Thanks for giving me that extra push. :D

Hello to everyone whose favoriting my story! There's a lot of you! :D Please review, they make me soooo happy. :D