Hey guys, I'm back for round two of this story. I've actually edited out the "graphic" parts of the story to make it a T rating. Blah!

Two weeks passed, Trish went back on tour with Boynado and Dez went to visit Carrie in LA. Austin was released from the hospital. His rotator cuff, the doctor's said, would heal in three to four months. His black eyes had begun to heal and some minor cuts had already healed. It still hurt Ally to look him in the eye. They didn't mention what had happened to his parents. Their car ride to Ally's house was silent. Austin was hyper aware of his surroundings, paranoid almost. He looked exhausted.

They got to Ally's house and settled in. Austin was staying in their guest bedroom. Ally figured it would be way better than setting him up in the practice room at Music Factory. As she put his clothes into the dresser, she couldn't help but notice the tension in the air.

It was awkward. She hated that it was so awkward.

After everything was away, she closed the door and turned back to him. He sat down on the edge of the bed, trembling. He looked up at her with an expression she'd never seen cross his features. She sat by his side. He fumbled in his bag and pulled out two bottles of pills his doctor had prescribed. One, an antibiotic, the other was for pain. He popped them both and downed a water bottle.

Fifteen minutes passed, he'd laid down. Ally laid down next to him. He looked up at her and placed a gentle kiss on her lips. She could feel the tears on his face. Ally pulled away, mouthing "are you sure?" He nodded. His left hand slipped under her shirt and he kissed her again. She knew he was only doing this because he was grieving. Between kisses, she asked him once more. With a fumbling hand, he removed his shirt. That same fumbling hand removed her top as well. To save him the trouble, she reached around and undid the clasps on her bra.

She felt guilty for wanting this, but wasn't as if he weren't willing. She laid back, nervous. He was fumbling. She was excited. He was vulnerable.

His heart was pounding. He asked if she wanted to keep going. Their eyes met and Ally nodded. She gave a sharp inhale as he moved. He waited for her to give the okay.

It was an awkward dance. It wasn't pleasant at first, but the feeling faded. He kissed her hard. She felt warm. After, he laid beside her, panting.

Ally felt empty. This would have been the perfect moment to turn to him and talk or laugh about anything, but it was awkward. Things between them were still painful and awkward. She still felt guilty. He was still grieving; a weird feeling engulfed her. She looked to Austin, he was asleep. She stayed in bed and closed her eyes.

When Ally woke in the morning, Austin wasn't in bed. She got out of bed, put her pajamas back on and started down the staircase. Something smelled delicious, but she couldn't put her finger on it. She entered the kitchen, only to find Austin standing in front of the stove.

"Morning, goosepickle." His voice was calm as he turned, handing her a plate of pancakes. "Made you breakfast. Sit down and get started, I'll be there in a minute." He turned back to the stove and got to work on his own breakfast. No mention of what had happened last night. The tension between them was still palpable, or at least it was for her. She poured some maple syrup on her pancakes and took a bite.

"Austin, these are delicious," she said with a little more disbelief in her voice than originally intended.

"Surprised?" he asked, "My mom taught me." The room fell silent. "Ally, about last night, I, uh," he paused. "Yeah... uh..." He sat down with his plate, left hand fumbling around with his fork.

"Austin, I wasn't exaggerating. The... pancakes are delicious, I just feel guilty. Maybe I wanted them more than you did." He raised an eyebrow, put down his fork and cocked his head.

"...I thought we were talking about last night." Ally covered her eyes with her hand and shook her head. "...oh. No. No, I wanted pancakes as much as you did, if not more. And since we've been together, I've been excited about sharing pancakes with you. You uh... You're the first girl I've shared... pancakes with." His face paled. "...was it good? Th-the sex... Er...! Last night's pancakes... I mean."

"It was great," she replied, taking another bite of her breakfast. He seemed relieved, but distracted. It had been a rough couple of weeks; he was still in pain. He was still in denial. His parents weren't a subject. "...are you okay, Austin?" she asked. The smile on his face was plastic. It was fake and she hated it.

"My shoulder is really sore, but I'm fine." He would talk to her when he was ready, she figured. "I've been away from the Music Factory for way too long. Why don't we go there? We should probably get back to work on our song. I'll clean up breakfast while you get dressed."

She reached the top of the stairs and stopped, lost in her thoughts. A return to normalcy is all he seemed to want. To forget what had happened. To not deal with the gravity of his loss. Ally entered her room, threw on an outfit and brushed out her hair. When she was ready, he met her at the bottom of the stairs and gave her a hug. How could he be so resilient? Today was going to be a long day.

He was agitated, she could tell. They were sitting at the piano in complete silence. She watched him carefully as he eyed his sling with dismay. He met her gaze and forced a smile. She kept a straight face.

"Are you okay?" she asked, "You seem really distracted. Do you want to take a break?"

"...yeah, why not?" he replied, getting up from the piano bench. He stood and silently walked over to his guitar. He eased his arm out of the sling and put the guitar strap over his shoulder. Left hand on the neck, right arm hovering shakily over the strings. He swallowed hard, sweat dripping down his face. His face was stark white, seething as he moved it into a less painful position. The strap slipped. Instinct overrode his brain and he reached out to grab it with his right hand. He gasped, cursing when his hand fell short because of the pain. The guitar crashed to the floor. A snapping noise echoed through room and he visibly winced. The room was spinning and his vision whited out. His mind was racing. Headlights. The sound of tires screeching and the crunching of metal. He shrieked, audibly choking.

An empty chuckle left his lips as he looked down at the guitar. "...I broke my guitar." His voice was cold and even. The neck snapped. "My mom snapped her neck," he said, matter-of-factly. "She wasn't wearing a seatbelt. They told me that she died instantly." Ally had goosebumps. "My dad suffocated before anyone got there," he said with a nonchalant shrug. "Punctured lung." He was quiet. A few minutes passed. He was trembling. Ally stood and took a step toward him. He turned to face her, he broke into a strange, forced laughter.

"...Austin?" He gave a brief exhale. "Please. Say something."

"I have no idea why I am laughing," he replied, tears streaming down his face. "This is so fucked up I can't even stand it." He was breathless. "Everyone at the hospital was telling me that I was lucky because I survived." He picked up his guitar and held it tight. His knuckles were white. "Yeah! I'm so damn lucky!" He raised the guitar in his left hand and with all the force he could muster, smashed it on the floor. "I'm so lucky that both of my parents died!" Coming up from behind, she grabbed his left arm and he dropped the remains of the guitar. Trying not to agitate his shoulder, she snaked her arms around him. His manic laughter quickly turned into heavy, heaving sobs. They sunk to the floor together. She stroked his hair and held him close, trying to think of something to say to him.

Ally's chest ached and she couldn't stop herself from crying. She wanted to tell him that he would be okay, that she would take care of him. She wanted to tell him he wasn't alone, he wasn't lucky and didn't have to feel this guilty.

She looked for words, but there were none. She whispered that she loved him, but that was all she could think to do. His sobs tapered off into brief bouts of hyperventilation before quieting completely.

Ally felt a heavy guilt. She was the lucky one. He was in absolute anguish with survivor's guilt, but at the very least, he was alive. Ally didn't have to see him buried. She couldn't bear the thought.

"...I'm so sorry, Ally," he sighed, eyes closed. "I lost it. But I'm fine now."

"You're not, but you will be eventually," she replied, "Grief isn't anything you need to rush, Austin. You don't have to throw yourself back into daily life. Take your time. Take it slow, you're hurting." He kept his eyes closed, "I love you. I'm the lucky one, I still have you. We're going to get through this." They stayed in each other's arms, silent and grateful for one another.

Thanks for reading. This chapter's song is Will You Tell Me When by Faunts.

xo