Hey guys, I'm back. Hope you enjoy it.

Chapter 3: A Rush of Blood to the Head

For what seemed like the hundredth time, Ally had paused NetFlix. The sound of Austin dry heaving in the bathroom echoed loud in her ears. She got up when he moaned her name, and ventured to the bathroom. His head hung in the toilet and he was breathing hard, his skin was pale and clammy. Stomach flu. After all he'd gone through, he'd caught the stomach flu. She rubbed his back in small circles and smoothed back his hair. Stomach flu generally ran its course in one to ten days, but this was going on two weeks. Ally was worried.

"Do you want to see a doctor? I'll take you," Ally whispered, watching as Austin lazily shook his head. "Are you sure...?" He nodded, his body going into another bout of dry heaves. After a few minutes, he raised his head.

"I'm sorry, Pickle," he sighed, frustrated, "...let's go watch the rest of the movie." With all the strength she could muster, she hoisted him up. He stumbled aimlessly, pulling away from her as he tripped over his own two feet. She grabbed his hand and threw her weight backward, catching him just before he shoulder checked the door frame. He uttered an apology and pulled away. Holding his head, he stumbled back to the couch and sat down. He was avoiding eye contact like the plague. Austin wasn't himself, but who really was when they were sick?

She sat to his left and grabbed the remote, unpausing Zaliens XV. She noticed him slide toward her and lean his head on her shoulder. His skin was moist against hers. She looked down at him and sighed. Spring break was almost over and there were no new songs, no work was done at all and she hadn't even had a chance to study.

Catching up on studying will be a breeze for me, but... she thought, eyeing Austin's makeup work from his accident. She looked back to him, sure that he would never finish that stack of work. He wasn't interested in school, not that she could blame him. But what would happen to them if he didn't graduate? What would happen to them if he had to redo senior year? It stressed her out just thinking about it.

"You okay?" he asked, "...You're staring at me." Ally scoffed, a nervous smile crossing her face.

"Whaaaaaaaaaaat?" she replied, stumbling to find the right words. She didn't want to voice her worry when they were trying to relax. "I'm not staring at my talented, handsome, very sick boyfriend whom I am extremely worried about."

"I know you're worried about me, but trust me. I'm f-ugh... I'll be right back." With all the grace of a drugged cat, he stood and stumbled to the bathroom and slammed the door shut. She paused the movie and stood near the bathroom door. She could hear him fumble with the lock. "Sit down, Ally, I'll be out in a minute, okay?" She heard him take a deep breath and pause, then the heaving started again.

"Austin, please, I'm calling a doctor." The door flew open and he stood in the doorway, vomit on his shirt. "...You got a little something there," she pointed out with a fake laugh, trying to defuse his frustration. There was something off about his eyes.

"Look Ally, I know you're trying to look out for me and stuff, but I'm fine. I'm a little sick, yeah, but I don't need a doctor and I don't need you worrying about me; you're stressing me out." She knew she was staring at him. His pupils were tiny. She watched as he completely lost his momentum. There was a painful lump in her throat. She was stressing him out?

"How can I not worry about you?" she replied, "I've done nothing but worry about you for the past month and a half. The accident, your injuries, what happened at the Music Factory two weeks ago? Your health!"

"Ally, I-"

"...I'm not supposed to worry about you? I know that you haven't even touched your makeup work for school. Spring break is almost over and our teachers are going to want that when we get back. You're not going to graduate if you don't do the work! And what about your finals?! I'm stressing you out? You're stressing me out." She turned away from him, let out a frustrated sigh and gestured toward his untouched work, "By the way, I only know you haven't touched it because I've already done it for you. I don't want you to fail." He watched her fiddle with her shirt, trying to distract herself from all her emotions.

"Ally, I... I'm sorry, okay? It's not you, it's me. I'm stressing because I know how hard it's going to be to catch up on school work without any motivation. I'm sick, my shoulder is killing me and I'm tired and it's been a really, really long month. I'm sorry..." He hugged her from behind and felt her tense up. "...I forgot about the puke on my shirt." She wriggled from his grasp and started toward the stairs. "Thanks for the... help on my makeup work. Ally?"

"I'm going to go take a shower. Make sure you rewrite all the answers in your own handwriting. I know how excited you were to go to prom. You wouldn't be able to go if your grades dropped that hard." The amount of guilt she felt for doing his homework was immense, but she had to help somehow. She stood in the shower, under the running water, trying to wash away her worry. She heard the bathroom door open and watched as he stepped into the shower. He was still clothed from the waist down. She ran her hands gingerly over his surgery scar and he embraced her, whispering apologies.

Spring break ended with Dez and Trish flying back into town, school resuming as normal, and Austin moving back to his parent's house. Ally didn't like it one bit, but it was what he wanted. He'd inherited their house, their cars and Moon's Mattress Kingdom and that's all he'd told her, aside from see you at school, before he left.

He avoided her all day. He avoided Trish and even Dez. When the day ended, he didn't even show up to his dance lessons. Ally's worry manifested itself in the form of a pit in her stomach; it wasn't like him at all to avoid them or to ditch work.

"Maybe something came up with the rest of his family?" Trish tried to reassure her, "Maybe they're working out something with the will. I know you said he inherited Moon's Mattress Kingdom."

"I did," Austin said, walking through the doorway and high-fiving Dez. "And I gave it back to my Great-Great-Grandpa. When he dies, it'll go back to my Great-Grandpa, then to my Grandpa. It'll be passed down until it comes back to me. Then I'll close it." He seemed to smile at the thought of ending the store's legacy. He was oddly cheerful. "I never want to set foot in that store again."

"Are you sure you want to do that?" Trish asked, "I mean, I know you hate it there, but couldn't you hire someone to run it for you?"

"Geez, Trish," Dez scoffed, "It's not family owned and operated if no one in the family is alive or willing to run it. I got your back buddy."

Austin looked around, "...Where are the students?"

"We sent them home because you didn't come in on time." Ally's voice was stern, she didn't understand why she was so angry. Sure, he was late, but at least he'd shown up. At least he was talking to them. "Any reason why you're so late?" She hated the bite in her voice, but she didn't know how to stop.

"I was studying and I lost track of time. I want to be able to take you to prom. I should have called." Ally's ire deflated. Trish and Dez exchanged glances.

"Are you two okay?" she asked, "Do you need to be alone?" Austin sat down on the couch and shook his head. Ally sat across from him. Again, Dez and Trish exchanged glances.

"You're mad at me." Austin looked down at his hands, annoyed. Ally shook her head. "You are, I can tell. What did I do wrong? Why are you so mad at me?" She stayed silent; her reason for being mad sounded bratty and selfish now.

"She's mad because you moved out." Ally huffed, her gaze snapping from the floor to Dez.

"Dez!" He shrugged.

"What? That's why you're mad. Not telling him isn't going to do anything good or healthy for either of you." She crossed her arms, watching as he walked out.

"I told you, Ally. I just think it's better if we have some space."

"I know, but... I'm- ugh, you know what? ...never mind." She dropped her argument, remembering what had happened when she'd previously voiced her worry. She stood, going up to the practice room. He sighed.

"What did I do wrong? I handed in my work. I studied for hours. I move out because I don't want to worry her and now she's mad at me?" Trish sat down next to him.

"You're not going to want to hear this, but lucky for you, I'm pretty good at telling people things they don't want to hear. Austin, Ally won't stop worrying about you until you start acting like yourself. The accident happened and you paraded around here like you were a-okay until you had a breakdown and smashed your favorite guitar. Then you got sick and freaked out at her for worrying. She's worrying cause she loves you."

"She told you about that?"

"She called me that night after you cried yourself out. Ally was freaking out. She said she tried to be strong for you in the moment, but she thinks she failed you. She told me that all she could do was hold you and cry."

"All she could do...? That was enough for me."

"I also heard about what happened the night before that. How'd that even work with your bad arm?" The heat rose to his cheeks.

"It hurt pretty bad." Trish shrugged.

"Let Ally worry about you. She feels like that's all she can do for now." She gathered up her things and started up the stairs, "I'm going to check on her and then get going." She opened the door to find Ally at her piano, head in her hands.

"I'm most definitely not crying, Austin Moon," she spat, wiping her face before she looked up. "Oh, Trish. Hi. Uh... same goes for you. I am not crying." Trish closed the door and sat down next to Ally on the piano bench. "I'm fine, Trish. I'm just frustrated." She gave Ally a knowing look. "Okay, okay. I am frustrated, just about... nothing. I'm upset over nothing." When she stood up from the piano bench, something fell out of her pocket and clattered to the floor. Upon further inspection, Trish realized what Ally was so upset about. She stood and held out her arms. They embraced.

"Hey, it's going to be okay. Does he know? He told me why he wanted space, but is this really why?" Ally shook her head.

"He doesn't know; I just found out earlier. I know you aren't the best at keeping secrets, but can we keep it a secret for now? At least until he isn't sick anymore?"

"It isn't my place to tell him," she replied, "But it definitely explains why you're mad at him and can't put your finger on why." Ally laughed in spite of herself and picked up what she'd dropped. "Everything will be okay. Why don't you go home and get some rest? It might make you feel better."

"Thanks, Trish," she paused, "You don't have to stick around because of me, I'll be okay by myself."

"You sure?" Ally nodded, "Okay, I'll see you tomorrow then." The door closed, leaving Ally by herself in the practice room. She took it out of her pocket and held it tight against her chest. She was reeling. One night, two lines, a myriad of worry, but absolutely zero regrets. She stared down at the plastic stick and closed her eyes. There were so many girls out there who would love to be in her shoes right now.

How did one night lead to this? How were the conditions for this circumstance so perfect on that one night? She just couldn't wrap her head around it. She put it in her purse, gathered up the rest of her things and started down the stairs.

Austin. He was still sitting on the couch downstairs. The thought of facing him made her stomach turn. He looked up and their eyes met, she felt a wave of nausea hit her.

"Hey Ally, I'm sorry. I know I was late and I know you're not super excited over the fact that I moved back home, but everything is going to be okay." He smiled, "Let me drive you home?" She hurried down the rest of the stairs and pushed past him. Unable to speak, and locked herself in the bathroom. Collapsing to the floor in front of the toilet, she barely had time to pull back her hair before she threw up. She was dazed, but heard him banging on the door and asking if she was okay. She composed herself and stumbled to the door. He embraced her, his heart was racing.

"I think you got me sick." Guilt coursed through her entire body, but at least she technically wasn't lying.

Shocker, huh? The song is A Rush of Blood to the Head by Coldplay. More soon. I have two chapters in beta and I'm starting the sixth chapter today. xo.