A/N: Tw for a character death in this chapter. I hope I did it justice; this is the chapter I've been most nervous about posting so far.
Aiden gives me my usual ride home after school, and I purposely leave out my encounter with Sloan. I know he still worries about me constantly, and I already feel guilty enough about leaving him behind soon. He'll be a wreck when he realizes I've disappeared, and without me around, the link between he and Chelsea will probably weaken. They get along, but I'm the glue that holds their relationship together. I know that without me, they'll lose contact. And Aiden will be alone with the exception of his family.
I can't dwell on this, though. I care about Aiden but I have to keep my priorities in order. If I can sneak out of the city successfully, then that means I should be able to sneak back in and help others leave. Aiden, Chelsea, my mother, and Spencer's brothers will be at the top of the list. Aiden will just have to stay strong on his own until I can help him. I'd like to get everyone out now, but logic tells me that the more people come along, the more likely it is that we'll get caught.
We spend most of the ride in silence, give or take a couple of one-sentence exchanges, but when he pulls into my driveway and I prepare to get out of his car, he stops me with a hand on my arm. "Do you mind if we talk?"
I pause, and then shrug, settling back down in the passenger's seat and relaxing. "About what?"
He watches me carefully. "Are you… okay?"
I spend a moment trying to think back over the course of the past few weeks. I've been trying my best not to give away what I've been up to, or even that I've been up to something at all, but evidently I haven't done as well of a job as I'd thought. "I'm fine, Aiden." I give him a look that tells him I think he's being weird, even though internally I know his concerns are justified.
"Are you sure?" he presses. "It just seems like you've been off… or like, distant and stuff. Ever since…" he trails off, thinking. "Well, since Madison disappeared, actually. And I miss her too, but… I know this sounds horrible, but we weren't really all that close to her, were we? I mean, we were close to her compared to other people, but that's not saying much since we hardly talk to anyone. And then yesterday you didn't want a ride home… I'm just wondering why it seems so much like what Madison did changed you."
"Madison's long gone now," I point out briskly, narrowing my eyes at him. I know he's just trying to be considerate but now is the worst time to have someone trying to get into my head. If I let one thing slip, my entire plan could blow up in my face. "I've moved on from it. You should, too. I'm sorry that you haven't seen me as much with our new schedules, but you're only going to worry more if you let yourself dwell on every little thing I do that you deem out of the ordinary."
He looks upset by my harsh tone. "I just want to make sure you're not thinking about doing what she did."
I tense up, wary of him. Does he know something? I think Spencer must know he's my Mate after the encounter with Sloan in the hallway, and while it was a bit irrational of me to think for a moment that she'd told Sloan anything about what I showed her, it would make sense for her to go to Aiden, who'd be more inclined to talk to me about it without turning me in.
I try to gauge his expression as I tell him, "I think you're paranoid. I'm just trying to do what everyone keeps telling me to do, Aiden. Keep my head down. Then once I finally shut up, I'm up to something?"
He looks pained, and reaches out for my hand. "I just… I don't want anything to happen to you, okay? I can't lose you."
His words are more intense than I expected and I make eye contact with him, frowning slightly as he swallows hard. I never gave lot of thought as to why he's so protective of me, but sitting here while he gazes into my eyes with an intensity that matches his words, I'm certainly thinking about it now.
"You don't understand," he presses when I don't reply. "I don't have anything, Ash. Or anyone. There's just you. You're all I have and you're the only person I've been able to protect. Not my mom, not my sister, not my little brother… When they screw up they get fucked up by Patrol like the rest of us, but you- They don't hurt you so much. It's like they go easy on you or something. Like they don't wanna hurt you too badly but they have to do something to look tough, so they hurt you the best they can without doing too much damage. And I know if I'm there, they can beat the shit out of me and you'll hardly get a scratch. I need you around." His face is flushed with emotion now and his teeth are gritted, his jaw tense and his expression open and passionate. "You make me feel like I'm worth something, Ash."
It dawns on me now that I've underestimated what my leaving will do to Aiden. "Aiden… I don't know how to respond to that," I tell him honestly. I feel uncomfortable, my stomach churning unpleasantly and a large, invisible weight settling on my shoulders.
"You don't have to say anything," he replies calmly. "Just…" He trails off, and he breaks our eye contact as his gaze falls to slightly lower on my face. He leans forward slightly.
I'm out of the car before he can blink, hastily telling him, "I'll see you tomorrow," and then closing the car door and high-tailing it into my house. I close the front door behind myself and lean against it, waiting until I hear his car drive off. The second the sound of its engine fades into the distance, I turn and kick at the door with a loud, "Shit!"
So Aiden has officially cracked. He's lost his fucking mind; that much is clear. Or just lost control. If I leave him here in Los Angeles, I don't know what the mental ramifications will be for him. But I can't bring him along with me, and I bet that if I tried to, he'd just do his best to prevent me from leaving anyway. I already know convincing Spencer will be hard, but that's nothing compared to how difficult it would be to talk Aiden into it. Me being in constant danger would be his own personal hell. Something tells me he'd lose his mind regardless of whether or not he came with me.
My mother's asleep on the couch when I enter the living room, and I give her a longing look as I pause to watch her sleep, momentarily envisioning an alternative universe where I accepted Sloan's medicine and would be waking her up right now to excitedly give her back her life. Swallowing hard, I walk over to her and silently sink to my knees in front of her face. Her eyes are closed and so is her mouth, an unusual occurrence given her condition. Normally her breathing is open-mouthed and incredibly loud.
I'll need to wake her up to remind her to take her pill in another half-hour. There's a nearly-empty bottle of water on the coffee table just behind me, along with her bottle of pills, which… is empty. That's odd. She should have at least one left to take today even if she's due for a refill.
Furrowing my eyebrows as I examine it, I try to remember when Aiden and I last made the trip to the doctor's to fill her prescription. We do it every thirty days, but I don't think it's been a month. It couldn't have been more than two weeks ago. Where did the other fifteen or so pills go?
I glance under the coffee table, wondering if some of them have fallen out. Yes, they must've. Mom has some trouble opening the bottle sometimes; maybe the cap popped off and the bottle fell and she forgot to pick up some of the pills that fell out. They're white; they blend in with the carpet.
I run my hand over the carpet over and over, confused when I don't feel anything pill-shaped beneath my fingertips. They have to be here. Why aren't they here?
I hop up and go to the kitchen cabinets, avoiding looking at my sleeping mother. Maybe she kept the old bottle, and she grabbed the wrong one when she went to go get her pills, and there's a half-full one in here like there should be. I open the medicine cabinet and sift through it. I check, and then I double-check, and I then I triple-check. When I don't find anything, I stand there for a moment, staring into the medicine cabinet blankly. Almost unconsciously, I move my right hand to my chest and feel my heart there, pounding hard and fast. I'm light-headed, and I sway as I stand there. Abruptly, I turn and make my way back to my mother, collapsing by her side again and staring at her still face, my lips parted as I try to keep my breathing even.
"Mom?" I ask, my voice so, so small. She's still sleeping. I reach out and touch her shoulder. It's cold. I shake it, slightly, and speak louder. She must not have heard me. "Mom, wake up." There's no response. I'm breathing so hard now I feel like I might pass out, and frustrated tears prick at the corners of my eyes. "Mom, you have to take your pill." I remember that the bottle's empty and I tell her, "I think you lost some of them, but Aiden and I can get more. I'll go to his house right now and I'll make him take me to get more, okay? You just have to wake up and tell me to do that and I'll do that."
I reach out to touch her face and I'm shaking so hard. My vision's going blurry and it takes me a moment to realize it's because I'm crying.
"I'm sorry; I didn't know you'd ran out," I try to say, ignoring the way my throat's closing up. "I'm sorry. I didn't know. You didn't tell me. Please…" I slide my hand down to her chest and feel the way it's not rising and falling. "Please wake up." I blink and several tears slide down my cheeks. I'm crying so hard I can't even see her anymore. "Don't leave me here alone."
She lies there, silently, and I finally make myself stand up. I take a blanket resting over the armrest of the couch and unfold it, then lay it down over my mother's still form, tucking her in. I step back when I'm done and watch her, almost blankly. And then I turn and walk out of my house in a daze, heading down the road purely on instinct. Some part of me is telling me that it thinks I should go get help. The rest of me feels blank and empty.
I don't know how long I walk for, but when I reach a front door and look up at the house in front of me, it's not Aiden's, like I thought it would be. I don't know whose it is, actually. I ring the doorbell anyway.
Glen Carlin answers it, looking confused. "Ashley Davies?"
I blink at him, my reaction time slow. Finally, I acknowledge him. "Glen."
He stares at me with concern. I think he can tell something's wrong. "What are you doing here? Are you alright?"
"I don't think so," I tell him slowly. My cheeks must be tear-streaked because he tells me it looks like I've been crying. "Oh," is my reply to that. I feel like I've shut down on myself. I can't even think about why I've come here right now.
I must look pretty messed up, because Glen ushers me inside. At some point, I find myself on the couch in the Carlins' living room. Glen murmurs something to someone I can't see and footsteps disappear into the kitchen. Clay is in the living room, too, and looks on in confusion as Glen stands in front of me, that same concerned look still on his face.
"Glen, what's going on?"
"I don't know," I hear him reply. He looks to me and very slowly asks, "Ashley, how did you get here?"
"I don't know," I parrot, my tone devoid of emotion. "Just did."
"Did something happen?" he asks next. "Is something wrong?"
It takes me a moment. I don't want to answer. Answering makes me face it.
I open and close my mouth for a moment, caught between knowing the answer and not wanting to say it. "Yes," I finally acknowledge, and then start crying again, harder than I ever have before.
A third person joins me on the couch and hesitantly wraps an arm around me while using the other arm to set down a mug of what looks like hot chocolate. I'd forgotten it's January. It must have been freezing outside.
Even through my blurry vision, I can see blonde hair and so I know the person trying to comfort me must be Spencer. She must be so lost right now, but she wraps her other arm around me anyway and pulls me into her. I grip her so tightly it must hurt her, but she doesn't complain as I bury my face in her neck and sob into it.
They sit in silence with me for I don't know how long, letting me get it all out. It's dark by the time my sobs turn into silent shakes and shudders, and when I finally pull away from Spencer, the shoulder of her shirt is soaked with snot and tears. "I'm sorry," I tell her, voice thick as a couple of strays tears make their way down my cheeks.
"It's okay," she tells me, so softly and gently. Just the soothing tone of her voice makes my crying lessen, and I appreciate it for a moment before I can feel more tears coming up again. I try to distract myself, looking around for Glen and Clay, but they've disappeared. I don't know how long they've been gone. Spencer watches me carefully, reaching up to wipe my tears away with her thumb. I feel a heavy weight settle in my chest and take a deep breath, then let it out slowly. That weight will be there for a while –maybe even permanently- but I'm done crying now. Spencer seems to realize this after a minute or so, and carefully asks me, "Can you tell me what happened, Ashley?"
I swallow hard and don't answer. I don't know if I can say the words. "My mom," I tell her, squeezing my eyes shut and sucking in another breath. This one's shaky. I told myself I was done crying.
"Something happened to your mom?" she asks. I nod. "Is she hurt?" I shake my head and she opens her mouth, probably to ask another question. I hold up a hand to stop her. I can't say the whole truth but I think I can get out some of it.
"She…" I hesitate, feeling my eyes well up again. Determinedly, I shake it off. "She…"
Spencer's eyes search mine and I focus on the blue or her irises, trying to escape from the turmoil in my head. I do my best to distance the rest of myself from my head and my mouth, to try to not think as I lick my lips and they part again.
"She… died."
