It just gets better, in my opinion.

Disclaimer: I own no one familiar to the movie. End of disclaimer.

Never thought that Lash and Layla had a past relationship beyond the movie? What? You never thought they could have been friends? Are you kidding me? Here! Have the story! My goodness, you've been missing out.

Past

"You know what I miss most?" He muttered aloud, his thumb stroking her stomach as her fingers traced his face, his eyes closing against her fingertips.

"What?"

"The nights we spent together."

"Hmm. Me too..." Lash could feel the smile in the air, and he kissed her cheek, breathing out loudly. "But this is somewhat like them."

He laughed. "We're laying down on a table where our mothers can watch our every move." They heard small giggles from the observation room. "See?" Layla shook her head, a smirk on her face. "It's not exactly like being home." He smiled at the thought, now clearly missing their bed.

"Oh shush, Lash." Her lips touched his forehead, and he let the tingling sensation take him over, causing his spine to react, the shiver traveling through to the girl in his arms.

--

"So what did you do today?" He asked her, kicking off his shoes and setting them off to the side as he sunk into her couch. Layla had plopped onto the carpeted floor in front of him, and held her ankles as she crossed her legs, her back pushed forward and her face towards him, tilted lightly.

"I went to see Lash." The expression on his face changed drastically.

"Why?" He responded sourly, his nose scrunched up with just the mention of the other boy's name. "Why'd you go and see him?"

"He's my best friend, Will! I miss him!"

"Layla," he began, his eyes closing in frustration as he stood before her. "He's evil. He's in jail. We sent him there, even."

"He's not evil, William Stronghold!" She cried, her eyes wide in anger. "Lash has been my best friend since second grade. He's never changed!"

"So in second grade he was trying to kill all the kids in school while some villain was trying to take it over?" She merely glared at him, crossing her arms as she leaned back to stand up on her feet.

"Will, Lash Livingston has been the same person, the same boy, since the day I met him. He's not evil. He's not out to be a serial killer. He doesn't plan on mass destruction any time soon."

He just rolled his eyes, and leveled his feet with hers, a glare at the thought of the other boy. "I hate him."

"And he hates you." She whispered gravely, her eyes almost closing in pain. This sucked. So much. "Someday that might just become neutral."

Will laughed forcedly, and just held the side of his stomach. "I doubt it, Layla." He shook his head. "I'm a hero, and he's the villain."

Her fists came together at her sides. She'd had it. "Goddamnit, Will! He's not a villain!"

A hand connected with a face. And a body with the floor.

There was a harsh intake of breath, and Layla placed her left hand to her cheek, rubbing softly as the tears she held back came forth, staining her face. "Layla, Layla, ohmigosh I didn't mean it. I'm so sorry." Will's hand was in the air above the redhead, but she rejected the offer.

"I think I'm just gunna go change for bed, an' make some dinner for myself, thanks." She whispered, getting back to her feet from the floor. Everything was spinning, and the side of her neck was killing her. This hurt. It sucked. "I'll see you later." Quickly exiting the room, she left a baffled Will in the livingroom, hoping that he'd go home instead of following her around.

"I love you Layla." The boy murmured hopefully, his arm almost horizontal as he reached out to her retreating figure.

"Mmm." She merely responded with, nodding her head as he walked away. Out the front door. Sighing to herself, Layla collapsed into a kitchen chair, rubbing her cheek softly before whimpering to herself. This was definitely not how she imagined her relationship with Will to be like.

--

Stumbling across the hallway, she held her mouth closed with a knuckle to her chin. Pushing the door to her room open, she released a crying sob. Her life was tumbling down the drain and nothing could stop it. Lash was in jail. Will is recently become violent. And she was in the middle of everything. Two of the biggest loves in her life, were crippling towards the end, and she couldn't do anything to stop it. This was terrible. Layla fell into her bed, slamming her face into her pillow to let escape a screaming cry, a large heave of frustration.

She couldn't hold on much longer to this. She needed her Lash. She needed Will to become the boy she fell for once before. Not this boy she couldn't handle. Not this boy who would hit her, or give her looks of disgust whenever that one single name floated through the air and a smile crept across her lips. This hurt her feelings, and Layla only could think of how lonely Lash felt whenever he was in his cell. All alone.

She needed him. She needed to feel okay. Most of all, she wanted to see him again. Feeling down her neck, she touched the sensitive crick in her skin, the slight bruise climbing up to her cheek. And Layla whimpered into the dark room, rolling onto her side to reach for her cellphone. She kept the number for the jail, right? Quickly sniffing, she closed her eyes, biting her lip before sitting up, running a hand through her hair to grab a hold of her shoes from the floor. Sighing, she gave a small smile out to the moon, and ran from the bedroom.

--

"I need to see a Livingston?" She asked unsurely, not exactly knowing how to ask for a certain prisoner. The lady at the front desk began to frantically type onto the keyboard, looking up at the redhead before her.

"Isn't it a little late for visits?" She whispered towards Layla, an eyebrow raising.

"I don't know, I don't care. May I see him?"

"Down the right hallway, ask for Tipler. He'll take you towards...uh," she looked to the computer screen, "Lash." Butterflies flew through Layla's stomach as that name was released from the woman's lips. It was like partially-melted chocolate ice cream. So sweet. So irresistible.

"Thank you!" Layla breathed, taking off in a matter of seconds. Taking to that right hallway, she smiled as she saw the familiar face of the bulk. "Tipler, sir!" She stuttered, unsure. Totally unsure.

"Ma'am?" He called, standing up straight from his position on the wall, glancing to her hair. "Layla Williams, isn't it a bit-"

"Late, I know. Can I see him? Now?" Managing a nod, Tipler opened the backdoor with a series of keys, and led her inside quietly. With many staircases to each level, Tipler led her off to the left, going up to Lash's level, but walked in front of a certain cell, not looking back rigidly. She guessed it was Jagger's. He was really, not the only danger in her eyes at that point. Jagger was just an annoying little boy with a big crush. Will, on the other hand, was supposed to be a loving, caring boyfriend. Her best. Look at him now.

"Here." Tipler whispered, pointing towards a lanky figure lying in a bed, his back facing them, his head turned away from the cell's entrance and Layla. Fiddling quietly with the keys, he slipped one into the slot, sliding the door to the right and letting her step through. "Now you'll be okay?"

Without words, she picked her hand up to tell him that she'd be okay. Lash still hadn't turned around to see who was there, but it seemed he didn't care who walked in and out. "Tipler what the hell do you want now?"

"A snuggle buddy." He laughed from the opposite side of the cell, walking away. The boy finally turned his body quickly, his eyes wide in shock at the response. But then he jumped once again, seeing the red of her hair. The green of her outfit.

"I'm imagining you." She shook her head, exposing some of the bruise. "You're real." Nodding, she watched him pounce to the ground, and then look her up and down once more, his hand slowly coming forth, as if to touch her. "Is this even allowed?" She shrugged, and glanced towards the hand that was slowly coming towards her face. His eyes scanned her own, and then down her face, seeing the bruise forming.

But she tried to avoid that. She'd get to that soon. "I...I wanted to, see you." She struggled, but dipped her head a bit to look to the floor. And his hand cupped her cheek, his stern gaze for the mark left from Will's contact.

"That's not..." Slowly his thumb trudged over the skin, and she grimaced, flinching beneath him. The pain. The horrible pain. "The ass." He whispered, stepping closer to Layla, planting a small kiss upon her slightly sweaty forehead. "I'll have his head." He growled, taking her in his arms and holding her tight. Her purse landed on the floor with a thud, and she burst into silent tears. "I'll have his head and cut him into little pieces - feed him to the dogs." His voice was shaking, his voice was harsh and terrifying. But Layla could only hold on to him tighter, digging her face into his chest even deeper.

"He didn't mean it. He might have gotten out of order, Lash, but he didn't real-"

"Yes, he did. Layla." Lash slowly took steps back so that they landed on the bottom bunk. "Yes...he did." Her hands creeped over his head, crunching the strands loose on the pillow as she weeped. He was left to stroke her hair, shushing her quiet. In a way to her, it was like old times. 'Cept for all the clanging and banging of the other prisoners. His eyes closed as he inhaled her wondrous scent, and felt her shift in his arms. Her head rested against his chest this time, a hand coming up to hold itself beneath her chin, and Lash rubbed her back.

And she wanted to say something so badly. But she feared it would end up sounding like a load of crap. A load of babble. Yet she was gunna try, anyway. "I..." She began, her head tilting up so that she could look at his face. With a wrap around her waist, Lash lifted her so that her eyes were equal to his, and she tried again. "I..."

"Layla, you don't have to say anything." He stroked her face softly, going over the bruise lightly, almost skipping over it entirely. "I already know." He nuzzled his face into her hair, and curled his body so that he could scoop her up once more into his arms. And with a burst of energy, Layla yearned to feel his lips on her skin, to let her know that he was there and always. She wanted to cry. She wanted to fall asleep here and just lay with him.

"Mu... uh...I-m...sorry." She felt like a handicapped child. She felt like he was going to not understand her. And so the tears began once again, and the feel of his fingertips on her face made her gasp, closing her eyes to the feeling. Lash shook his head, letting his lips fall upon her cheek and stay there, his eyes closing.

"You aren't the one to be, Lahlah. When he comes here, he will. He'll be the one to be sorry." Silently, Lash rolled on top of her, dipping his head into her neck as she wrapped her arms around his waist. His words made her think deeply. When Will comes to jail? "I'll get him back. I swear."

Layla could only sob. Hushing her quiet, Lash traced her face gently, lifting his own to kiss the bruise softly. It would heal. It would heal soon, but the world would have to see what he's done to her. It made her frown. Will was supposed to be the hero. As he's said so many times before. But instead, he's going against his own yells. His own calls. Lash was the hero this time. Lash was protecting her this time.

----

He already had a plan. With Layla beneath him, his mind was already racing to his next plan. Closing his eyes, he kissed her good cheek, stroking down her neck and collarbone, dipping down to her right arm, hooking his fingers with hers. "Stay." Lash heard her whisper, and he merely gave her a smile.

"I am forever yours, Layla Williams." Her head bobbed with a nod, and he found it rather urgent. "Always. Nothing will ever change." Slowly, he reached down to cover them with the rough blanket, and she dipped her face into his neck.

"I know." She whispered, holding tightly. Lash closed his eyes, wishing that this never ended. Layla was here with him. She snuck inside to see him. And they needed each other. Would she stay the night? Would Tipler let her stay with him? Her fingers stroked his face softly, and he breathed in deep. He had to let her stay. He just had to. They had to stay together. She needed him, and he needed her. He loved her.

--

"Lash, your tutor is here, it's best that you wake u- shit." Tipler's voice hit their ears, and his cell door opened quickly. "Layla Williams, you weren't supposed to stay the night – shit, shit," he whispered, shaking Lash's arm to wake them both, taking careful fingers to Layla's shoulder, her eyes still closed, her arms still tight around Lash's neck. "I'll get fired for this, I know it." Lash groggily swatted at the hand on his arm, dipping his face deeper into Layla's hair. He planted a soft kiss upon her neck, and Tipler saw a small blush crawl upon her cheek, and heard a tiny moan as Layla awoke. He took this chance to grasp her arm in his hand, and duck low, peering at his watch before speaking once again. 9:48 A.M. "Layla Williams, you have to leave before the jail notices you here." He was near the point where he would start to growl. "Layla."

She jumped in Lash's arms, her face turning towards Tipler, who had pumped the air in success. "Uhhng?" She muttered, her eyes still closed, but her arms moving slowly up and down Lash's neck, her fingers prickling his skin. It made his insides turn over with jittery sensations, but Lash tried to ignore the voice floating about the cell. His arms were around Layla, and he didn't ever want to move. He was content, and whatever was trying to wake them, was aggravating the shit out of him. He wanted whatever it was, to leave them alone. "Wha ei et?"

Even in his mild-awake-ness, Lash knew what she said. What is it. And with a roll of his shut eyes, he gripped her tighter, letting his lips take over her neck and collarbone. He wished they were alone once again. With the sounds of rain against her window, the sounds of birds singing the next morning over. The wind against the trees and flying through the leaves. "You need to leave. Now."

This made him growl loudly, finally opening his eyes to become blinded by the hall light, the lone ceiling light above Tipler. He shook his head many times, squishing Layla even tighter against his chest. One hand was stiff and gripping to his strong arm, one hand resting against his waist. And Lash didn't want her to move, but Tipler was there, and everything instantly went cold. "Why, though." He whispered raspily, seeing Layla's eyes finally squint open. She said no words, but quickly planted a kiss upon his jawbone. A good morning kiss. A kiss he's always missed there at the jailhouse.

"She's spent the night. And your tutor is here - dude, if I don't get her outta here soon, I'll get fired. And you'll be here for an extended amount of time." Layla yelped, jumping back in the bed to fall halfway off the mattress. Lash caught her just in time by her middle, and brought her close.

"Oh, no you don't." He whispered, stroking a strand of her hair away from her eyes to look at her deeply.

"I want you to come home!" She cried, getting to her feet and brushing a hand through her hair lazily, quickly. "I don't want you to be here any longer than you already plan to, Lash. Please, just come home soon. Come home when you said you were gunna come home." She turned to Tipler, adjusting her clothes. "Okay, lead me away."

"I'm gunna sneak you out the back, but you gotta be careful." She nodded quickly, and turned to Lash, who got out of the bed and wiped his eyes of sleep crust.

"Layla, will I see you soon?" She nodded again.

"More so often than usual, Livingston." Giving him a smile she went on, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I keep missing nights with you." Dipping her head down, she stood upon her toes and looked up to him. "I'll see you soon." Kissing his jawbone, she let him wrap his arms around her waist to pick her up and spin her once, placing her back to her feet and watching her walk out the door, close behind Tipler.

--

Yay, Lash the hero!

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