From Eden

by OverwhelmedAndTerrified

They'd only truly met 2 days ago and already her eyes were begging him to, please, show her how to live with such pain.

7. Chapter 7

Okay so I can't even really use writer's block as an excuse this time because the first half of this chapter nearly wrote itself but the second half….Jesus fucking Christ yall it has been painful. Not sure if it was the subject matter or what but even now as I'm posting it this shit is still not to my liking. But, honestly, it would've been another month before I got it up to par with the rest of the story so I figured I'd just take what I had and stop making yall wait so long. So I'm sorry, both for how long it took me to update and for this chapter (in my opinion) not really doing the importance of its subject matter justice. Anywho, to ArtistRenegade21, there are 2 tattoo ideas in this chapter inspired by your comment from chapter 5 so cheers to you for that. To the Guest who asked if Ally's health was okay, her physical health is fine if that's what you were referring to. Her mental health on the other hand is as good as it can be considering what she's been through. To Rainbow, first of all thank you so very very much for consistently leaving reviews. And also, no I don't have any personal experience with Ally's terrible situation. Everything I wrote is a combination of my imagination and of my research. But I'm incredibly touched that this story has resonated with you like it has. Also, I'm glad I could bring your thing for Austin's hair to life lol. To everyone else who claims this is one of the best fics they've ever read….yall….I've seriously been sitting here at my laptop for 6 and half minutes trying to think of the words that would adequately express just how crazy, amazingly, indescribably ecstatic that makes me. I often spend just as much time being insecure about my writing as I send actually creating it. And to have a work of fiction and some passionate readers make me doubt myself a little less is so much more than I bargained for. So thank you so so sooooo much. Now those of you who listened to the song 'From Eden' probably already know but this is the second to last chapter folks. Just one more after this. Please keep leaving your comments and letting me know what you think of the chapter, how it made you feel, what you think will/should happen next and blah blah blah. Enjoy!

"Innocence died screaming. Honey, ask me…I should know."

She continued to spin.

Austin's smiled faded.

"Do you have a picture of this Dallas guy?" he asked her.

She stopped twirling and staggered dizzily to her bed, "God no. But I can show you his Instagram. It's public."

She scrolled and tapped for what felt like forever before handing her cell to him with a loud sniffle. His eyes latched onto the line of red beginning to dry below her nose. But then she was off to the middle of the room again, turning in slower circles this time. He looked at the screen.

The Instagram handle was "a_city_in_texas".

Brown hair, brown eyes, cocky smile. His most recent post was a shirtless, 'look how much fun I'm having at the beach' picture because of course it was. Dallas grinned like a kid in a candy store as some wet bikini babe clung to his back and the sun bounced off of his black Aviators. Austin rolled his eyes hard because OF COURSE the guy was your garden variety douchebag. The blonde glanced at the coked up brunette. She was still turning, though even slower now, with her eyes closed and a small smile and a hand pressed over what he knew was an incredibly rapid heartbeat. And every few seconds she'd sniffle back the blood that threatened to escape.

It was all so fucked up. He was at least sober enough to realize that. But Ally had somehow found joy in reliving her unimaginable pain. She'd been stressed and sleepless for months, paranoid that her past would come hunting for her in the dead of night, yearning to release the burden of her blackest secret. Then, under the influence of Virginia Beach's finest blow, she'd done the second thing and discovered relief in that confession and victory in that mild nosebleed. It was a fucked up victory sure, but it was hers. Austin watched her ponytail swing and listened to her sniff blood back up into her nasal passages. He wanted to share in her freedom, to enjoy the release but how could he when she'd had to endure hell to get there? He'd only known her for 2 days and already he could see that Ally Dawson was exceptional in some inexplicable way. Yet someone, TWO fucking someones actually, had treated her so poorly that she recoiled from even the gentlest touch, that she erected walls of steel and concrete and denied the world her brilliance. He looked back at the iPhone in his hand. Dallas stared up at him with that big shit-eating grin.

"Austin is this normal? The nosebleed?" Ally asked as she stopped twirling and made her way to the bathroom again.

"Huh? Oh uh yeah sometimes the blow or the snorting can irritate the lining of your nostril." He tossed her cell back on the bed.

She emerged with a small wad of toilet paper pressed to her nose. His right eye began to twitch ever so slightly as the coke's more calming effects waned and his energy picked up. He was frustrated. He was growing jittery. And seeing the tissue bloom red beneath her fingertips only agitated him more. How many times had that Trent asshole made her bleed? How many times had that fucking cocksucker piece of shit Dallas made her bleed on paper? How many sorrowful lyrics and tragic melodies did she have to scribble to maintain her sanity? A wicked pain gripped his chest because he knew. He knew just how long she sat around strumming angrily at the guitar until her hands blistered and stiffened. He knew exactly how many hours she spent rubbing her bleary eyes and praying for sunrise because her dreams had stopped being dreams a long time ago. In the beginning, her guarded ways and lashing out only reminded him of when he was younger. But now he could truly see that she was the embodiment of his miserable youth. Austin realized he knew Ally's tragedy, the physical pain, the emotional agony, the inescapable helplessness, because he'd been there. He'd lived all of it so many years ago. And he realized even further that she was wrong about one thing. It wasn't just that girls were taught to detect a dangerous man. No. At the base of it all, beneath the capacity for emotion and the higher cognitive function, human beings were nothing but animals, with the ability to recognize a predator hardwired into their brains. And by the age of 16, Austin too had seen that look and felt that feeling: the look of someone who intends to take something vital from you and the feeling of unending emptiness once it's gone.

For years, drugs had always helped the 23 year old bury Mike, even before he was dead. But this time was different. Austin's father was gone for the rest of eternity and not even the snow or the trees could obscure that irrefutable fact. It dawned on him then, as brightly as Ally's sunshine yellow walls, that his rage hadn't departed with his father. Subconsciously, he'd expected all the hateful baggage would simply fall away with dear old dad's last breath. But no, Mike Moon had completely vacated the physical Earth and yet…. Austin Moon still carried this decade old anger on his shoulders.

He was harboring resentment for someone who was no longer among the living. And the blonde had no fucking clue what he was supposed to do about it.

"What's up buttercup?"

Her voice ripped him back to the present and Austin realized that his fists were clenched and he'd forgotten to breathe. Ally was grinning at him behind the bloody tissue. She was a ball of energy, a bubbly version of her true self. His was a darker kind of vitality, manifesting itself in quivering fingertips and a light sheen of forehead sweat. They were both experiencing the more lively side of the high. The only difference?

Ally wanted to play freeze tag.

Austin wanted to cave Dallas' skull in with a sledge hammer.

"Let's go to the boardwalk." He said, searching for his hat and spotting it in an empty corner of the room.

"The boardwalk?"

"Yeah."

"But.…what if Dallas is there?"

That's the point.

The thought was immediate like a sudden gust of wind rushing through his mind and beyond his control. But Austin just pulled the Mötley Crüe cap on over his unruly mane and kept his true intentions hidden.

"He's not gonna be there." The guitarist replied.

She gingerly removed the tissue from her nose and examined it, "But he might b-"

"Holy fucking hell!" he was suddenly dragging his hands down his face in frustration, "That was THURSDAY Ally! Today's SATURDAY! He won't be there okay!?"

She frowned, more out of concern than anything, "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing! Ugh nothing I just need some air alright I can't breathe in here."

Her frown remained, "But what about us playing together?"

"Ally-…" he released an annoyed sigh, "We'll play later."

Austin felt as though he was speaking to a child and struggled to keep his temper in check. There was a rage, hotter and larger than he was familiar with, building within him because his younger self had suffered, Ally had suffered, and neither had been vindicated. It was bullshit, plain and simple.

She rolled her eyes, "Ugh fine. You're lucky you're cute. Let me clean up."

Ignoring his sudden blush, and forgetting that the hat was there, Austin attempted to rake his hand through his hair but only met rough canvas as Ally returned to the bathroom for a 4th time. He sat in the desk chair again, his left leg immediately bouncing in place as he waited. It was entirely possible that Dallas would've returned to the boardwalk. Austin abruptly stood up and began to pace back and forth. He was well aware that the downtown Miami strip was always a hotbed of activity and that spring breakers were drawn in like moths to a goddamn flame. They'd rush to get as wasted as humanly possible and go stumbling in and out of clubs, all properly liquored up and glistening with sweat. But Austin also knew that some of the college kids, not many but some, chose to occupy the boardwalk instead. There were a couple of bars and a club or two there as well. There were bound to be some rowdy spring breakers clinging to the boardwalk past midnight.

"Okay I'm ready." She'd already emerged from the bathroom and stood before him with her little black crossbody purse slung over one shoulder and a smile on her face.

Austin chewed his lip thoughtfully as he led her through the pitch black house this time. He rammed his toes and his shins into countless things in his urgency to get out of there. Ally giggled at every thud and every profane whisper that followed it. By the time he swung the Dawson's navy blue door open and crossed the threshold with her in tow, Austin was thoroughly pissed. He strode around to Roxy's driver side, yanked the door open, and flopped down in the seat. He didn't waste any time popping the glove compartment open and pulling out the Rolling Stone magazine. Ally waited until he'd clicked it back close before climbing into the passenger seat.

"Are you doing another one?" she asked incredulously after watching him turn the little baggy upside down, emptying its last powdery contents over the glossy magazine cover.

"Yeah." Was all he said before clamping his lips shut, closing off one nostril and snorting a crooked line from Rihanna's caramel skin.

And holy fucking fuuuuuck….

He'd never done 3 lines so close to each other. And they were all pretty substantial in size. He craned his head back and stared at the ceiling. There wasn't static this time but lava, thick and scalding hot, gushing up and filling every hole in his head. He squeezed his eyes shut as his brain shuddered under a sudden immense pressure. And then in an explosion of sensations, Austin felt the fireworks Ally had mentioned. And at the same time it was her earthquakes too, and avalanches and tornadoes and there had to be a blizzard because suddenly his flesh went completely cold and the lava solidified all hard and heavy in his skull. Then he was hot and opening his eyes and staring at the brunette across from him. And in that same instant he could feel that it wasn't working. The rage was still there when his mind quieted.

He sniffled again and again, shooting every last potent particle down into his lower respiratory system.

"Austin are you okay?" Ally asked him as he basically looked right through her, "Do you want me to drive?"

"Oh nononono madam Ally." He felt a grin stretch across his face, "I don't know you well enough to let you drive Roxy."

"Roxy? You named your car?"

"Roxanne T. Honda is her full title." He replied, cranking up the car in question and instantly hitting a U-turn.

"What does the T stand for?"

"The."

She laughed, "Roxanne The Honda?!"

Austin was quiet. He wasn't sure what to say because he was higher than his mind was accustomed to. He could feel things…happening to him but not himself doing things. He wasn't gripping the steering wheel, his hands were. He wasn't watching the street signs whizz by, his gigantic pupils were. His heart fluttered so rapidly he felt dizzy.

"Hey Ally?"

"Yeah?" she lifted her head off of the window and regarded him with half lidded eyes.

Austin wanted to say something. He wanted his lips and tongue and voice box to ask the brunette beside him if she really did have every STD in the book and a bun in the oven even though he already knew she hadn't been serious when she said it. He wanted his mouth to speak those words but when it opened all that came out was…

"Look."

…as they stopped at a red light. His right hand's numbed fingers reached up, grasping his bottom lip and pulling it down. Her eyes followed his movements lazily then widened in excited surprise.

"Oh my gosh." She whispered leaning in closer.

It was the middle of the night but, in the red glow of a traffic light, his most recent tattoo was still visible: "Pancakes" scrawled into his spongy flesh in plain black letters. Ally giggled, her gaze darting from his confident brown eyes to his moist inner lip.

"Why in the world do you have pancakes tattooed there?"

He released his lip and pulled off with a grin as the light turned green.

"The night my mom um called and told me my dad died," Austin mumbled, his speech just slightly slowed, "I went out to celebrate with the guys and got so…fucking…wasted. And the next morning….well I guess the next afternoon, I woke up with this. Hurt like hell."

"But why pancakes?"

He shrugged, "I fucking love pancakes."

"I love pickles but you don't see me getting one tattooed on my face!"

His eyes rolled sarcastically, "Yeah like madam Ally would ever get a tattoo anywhere."

She grew quiet for who knows how long. But by the time Austin had made a left onto 82nd avenue and glanced over, she had her back to him.

He nearly crashed.

The brunette had pulled the neck of her sweater down, completely exposing her left shoulder. Austin took in that swath of porcelain skin with rapid glances. It looked as if someone had drawn a tiny acoustic guitar and a little #2 pencil in black ink just over her shoulder blade. Both stood only about an inch tall beside each other on her milky white skin. It was a good thing they were pulling into the beach parking lot because she had her head turned to the side, her chin pressed to the convex curve of her shoulder and her hooded gaze glued to him and he was finding it impossible to focus on anything else. There was a boldness in those brown irises, something he hadn't seen before. Roxy came to a careful and crooked stop. Austin's foot remained on the brake as he stared at the pretty songwriter. There was a bragging smile on her lips and a look in her eye that innocently asked 'you were saying?'. The tattoo was delicate and simple and so unexpected that Austin found himself clapping a hand over his heart because it was already racing and the sight of those solid black lines staining her alabaster flesh sent it into clumsy gymnastics. It was just a tiny little tattoo, a pencil and a guitar, but the blonde was far too high to take this new discovery lightly.

"Are you shitting me?" he grinned as his hands put Roxanne in park.

"Madam Ally would never get a tattoo ANYWHERE." She mocked him in a nasally voice. Then she stuck her tongue out at him. And, before he could finish laughing, Ally's shoulder was covered and she was climbing out of the car. He killed the engine and followed.

"When did you get that?" Austin asked.

She came around to his side as he closed Roxy's door.

"My 19th birthday."

The brunette stood before him, smiling cutely. But his grin faded, just as it had back in her room. She'd forgotten her scarf and that bruise peeked out, all purple and maroon, from under her sweatshirt.

"Come on." Austin took her hand as gently as he could.

The boardwalk was about as crowded as he'd expected, not completely empty but nowhere near packed. He pulled her through the scant groups of people. The boardwalk was a long strip of activity situated across Miami's long coastline. Entering from the parking lot they were met with clothing stores and bistros to the left, white sand and ocean water to the right, and a wooden walkway under their feet.

Austin was pissed again.

Outwardly, a light sheen of sweat formed beneath the band of his hat and along his armpits. Clenching his back molars gave his jaw this impossible angularity and tightened his lips into a thin line. Even the blonde's brown eyes had hardened, becoming even more incredibly intense with their dilated pupils darting franticly about. He was almost speed-walking, hoping to reach the other end of the boardwalk as quickly as possible and practically dragging Ally in the process. Their footsteps, especially his, thumped and thudded ominously against the weathered wood beneath them. And that was just on the outside.

Inside, Austin's rage soared to temperatures that could melt steel. His blood was frothy with the heat. His muscles twitched in rigid tension. Another spike in Fahrenheit and surely his viscera would bubble with 3rd degree burns. And that was just his physical body.

Austin's mind was where the real danger lived. Within his skull a tornado spun at devastating speeds, greying his clarity and blaring like a train horn. There were really only 3 major things whirling around in that mental twister: 1) Ally's bruise, 2) Dallas, and 3) Mike Moon. Everything else, the debris and the dust, were just facets of that consuming trio. When Austin told Ally that he didn't need Mimi or Diane anymore because he had her, the blonde wasn't kidding. He had her….or rather she seemed to have him in the palm of her hand, minty green nails and all. So as far as he was concerned that bruise on her collarbone and that massive pain in her past were both utterly unacceptable. DALLAS was fucking unacceptable. And all Austin could think about was finding that fucking fucker and making sure he'd never be able to stick his dick in anyone or anything ever again. That's what was flying around his white and grey matter, hurtling against the flat bones of his head.

And at the base of it all…was Mike. It had always been Mike.

It wasn't even just about the past anymore. Yes, Austin resented his father for being so violent, for being so verbally abusive. But even more than that, he hated that the middle-aged son of Gerald and Tess had abandoned life so suddenly and left Austin to teeter insanely between relief and grief. Before Mike went racing partially to the grave and partially to the afterlife, the blonde contained his rage with music and narcotics. But he had a hard time believing they'd be enough anymore, not when there was sorrow layered into the fury and all of it caked in thick and bitter heartache. His dead father still had a grip on him.

Austin was a volatile body of emotions and those 3 white lines made him severely unstable. He tried to remember the names of the boardwalk's most popular bars but his mind could scarcely think straight. As he stomped down the wooden walkway with Ally in tow, his bottomless black pupils searched the crowd with a murderous intent.

"Austin!" her voice pierced his inner turmoil.

"Huh?" he answered without stopping and barely turning his head to glance at her.

"I said where are we going?"

He didn't answer. He was far too distracted, his gaze lingering on nearly every guy they passed. They were nearing the pier on the right, where the boardwalk itself extended far out across the sand and over the water, providing the masses with some pretty decent fishing opportunities, a ferris wheel, and even a couple of food trucks. On any given day it was littered with middle-aged men in khaki shorts casting their reels or small children stuffed with ice cream, racing towards the carnival games and leaving their weary mothers behind. It was too late at night for all that now. Still, Austin craned his neck and attempted to look down the entire length of the pier as they passed. Everything was dormant. The ferris wheel, usually brightly lit and constantly circling, sat motionless and dark like a metaphor for broken childhoods. They continued on until the vacant pier gave way to sand and sea yet again and the casual bistros on the left transitioned to more formal restaurants. His heart was still thundering against his ribs. His eyes were still darting around like a crazy person's. God he just wanted to find the motherfucker that had the nerve to go on posting douchey Instagram pictures while Ally could barely leave her house. Austin had to seriously concentrate on not crushing the brunette's hand in his own as rage continue to roil and thrash and sear his insides. The fancy eateries on the left finally began a gradual transition to bars and nightclubs. The blonde guitarist slowed his pace a little and scrutinized the passing faces with an even more intense concentration. He just wanted to find that Dallas guy and rip the eyelids right off of his goddamn face and let him fucking TRY to wink-

Suddenly, with a lung-filling gasp of utter shock, Ally's hand wrenched violently from his grasp. Austin whirled around and was met with eyes so burning angry and furiously bronze that, for a second, he thought he might've called her 'Ally-cat' without thinking. But no, this was a different kind of fury.

"Oh my God you're looking for him aren't you!?" she shouted, pointing a finger in his face.

And he didn't even have the patience or presence of mind left to lie.

"Yeah so what if I am?" The blonde craned his neck, unable to stop searching and completely not in the mood for this side of her.

"SERIOUSLY Austin!? Are you out of your fucking mind!?"

"Ally we don't have time for this shit!" he finally looked at her, barely containing his rage because Dallas was in Miami for fuck's sake and maybe, just maybe, he was strolling around the boardwalk with that arrogant grin of his.

"Why are you looking for him!?"

"What the fuck do you mean why!?" Austin frowned, already severely impatient as he kept looking around for his target, "What kind of fucking question is that!? Take a wild guess."

She pressed both palms to the sides of her head as an ache of sheer panic filled the sinuses there. Ally squeezed her eyes shut tight, whispering under her labored breathing, "OhmyGodohmyGodohmyGod. How could you do this Austin?"

Her terrified gaze pierced him. They were starting to attract attention. And then, abruptly, Ally began to laugh these tremulous and sporadic giggles that made absolutely no sense. "How could you bring me here!? How could you do this!?"

"How could I do this!?" Austin was dangerously high, swallowing her with his lightless pupils, "How about how could he do this!? For fuck's sake!"

She was still laughing like a lunatic despite the absolute horror of her facial expression, "Nononononono I can't be here. I can't be here!"

"But he can!? You can't be here but you're gonna let him go wherever he wants?!"

"That's not up to me!"

"IT IS UP TO YOU!" he was screaming.

"It's not!"

"IT IS UP TO YOU THOUGH RIGHT!?" and there were veins bulging at his temples, "You didn't tell anybody so now he gets to do whatever he wants! It's bullshit Ally!"

"I didn't tell anyone!?" her face twisted at the complete insensitivity of those words, "Fuck you!" she cried, "How dare you!"

"It's bullshit and you know it!"

"FUCK YOU!"

"Well if you're not gonna handle it then I will!" he turned to continue down the boardwalk.

Ally threw herself at him, latching onto his arm with a vice-like grip. "Austin no please PLEASE!" she gasped, her voice scraping her throat raw, "I don't want you to find him PLEASE AUSTIN PLEASE!"

"I don't wanna fucking hear it Ally!"

Groups of people, drunk and sober, stopped to stare.

Austin turned and tried to pull away from her trembling hands, one perfect and one gauze-wrapped around the palm. There were tears brimming in her wide, panicked eyes but he was way too far gone to register the ache in that old soft spot of his.

"AUSTIN PLEASEPLEASEPLEASE PLEASE I'M BEGGING YOU PLEASE DON'T!"

"It's bullshit Ally! Let go of me!"

Austin backed away from her, trying to shake her petrified grasp.

"What the fuck watch where you're going!" a voice cried out as the blonde ran directly into someone.

His anger, his pure unabashed rage was already exploding in slow motion with Ally's resistance. And in that moment it flared into full detonation.

Austin was instantly the most dangerous he'd ever been.

"HEY FUCK YOU YOU ASSHOLE!" he whirled around to face the guy, yanking forcefully from Ally's clutches.

"Fuck you!" it was some black-haired, super tan, Jersey-shore wannabe with the stench of tequila coming off of him in potent waves.

Somewhere in the distance, beyond comprehension even, he could hear Ally Dawson's voice crying out to him. But how was he supposed to hear anything when his fist was already connecting with the guy's jaw? How was he supposed to understand whatever she was shouting when his knuckles were delivering that first blow, bruising artificially tan skin and sending a surge of adrenaline roaring throughout his entire body? He couldn't really register much of anything after that. He knew he was in a fight, he'd been in plenty of those before. He knew where he should aim and he knew what it meant when he threw a punch and pain exploded in his hand and rattled all the way up to his shoulder. And he knew what it meant when agony popped then crackled on the left side of his mouth. He knew the taste of blood and the sound of an angel's voice screaming from what must've been the heavens above because he couldn't even begin to make out the words.

What Austin wasn't familiar with was this level of wrath overwhelming every sense he had. He was used to being angry sure, but never had he combined it with grief and vengeance. Never had he dusted such a dangerous combination with 3 ample bumps of cocaine then tossed it all into a fist fight. No this new kind of vehemence evolved into something inhuman as he pushed against the hulking hunk of muscles and hair gel and tackled him to the ground. And all at once he was on top of the guy and his arms were moving with robotic strikes again and again and again and again and again….he rained his fists down on him, only ignoring the scream of his knuckles because a beautiful and potent white horse had numbed his fingertips. And when he saw the red it was just as vivid and just as inviting but he knew that, this time, Ally wasn't waiting for him on the other side of it. This time it was dynamic, splattering and pooling beneath him. And it was coating his fist with each throw, enticing him to continue, to keep going until the red was done flowing. And he could feel every powerful connection. And he could hear every wet crunch.

And he couldn't stop…

He could not stop…

He didn't want to stop.

Blood. It finally registered in his brain. The red was blood.

And then he was being pulled up by his arms and the pain, delayed before, began to seep into his hands. Whoever had a grip on Austin shoved him hard and he felt himself go down. Somewhere far off that lovely voice called his name. He laid there face up, warm sand scratching the nape of his neck and the small of his back where his shirt had ridden up. His hat had come off. Up above there were just stars, dusted against a never-ending sheet of indigo.

"Austin!" the voice called him again, more frantic and less lovely.

Suddenly the stars were gone, replaced by a pair of the biggest brown eyes he'd ever seen with pupils that were slowly but surely returning to their normal size.

"Austin come on you have to get up those other guys are pissed!" the voice spoke rapidly.

He came mostly back to himself, enough to scramble to his feet and grimace at the warm sand and sheer agony climbing his knuckles.

"Come on." Ally was there, one small hand wrapped around his arm and the other clutching his hat. They walked as Austin tried to comprehend what was happening. His hands hurt. His face hurt. His arms felt limp and fatigued, especially the right. He pressed his fingertips to his mouth and they came away red. Warmth dripped down his chin.

"Fucking asshole." He could barely speak as his heart hammered wildly, trying to compensate for the drugs and the adrenaline.

"Austin just shut up okay!" Her grip tightened on his arm as she led him back up the boardwalk.

Everyone they passed was staring, most through the lens of a smart phone. But he swallowed the urge to shout 'What the fuck are you looking at?!' as he slowly regained his inhibitions.

"I can't believe you." Ally mumbled under her breath as she practically dragged him past the restaurants this time.

"Me?! That motherfucker was-!"

"Shut up Austin!" and that was when he could hear the change in her voice. He looked at her as they rushed across the wooden flooring. Beneath her tightly furrowed brow, the whites of Ally's eyes glistened pale red. A tear was barely able to escape before she swiped it furiously away.

"Ally-"

"Just SHUT! UP!"

The furious brunette pulled Austin up to a bench sitting just outside of a small 24 hour diner. Using his utter exhaustion against him, she pushed the blonde down on his ass, his back to the diner's large front window, his front facing the beach.

"Ally what-"

"Stay here."

And with that she flung his snapback at him with angry force, turned, and entered the diner. He twisted in his seat, his brown eyes following her as she walked up to the counter with a sweet smile pasted on. The middle-aged blonde lady behind the register regarded her with a skeptical eyebrow, even letting her gaze wander down below Ally's neckline. The brunette immediately pulled the collar of her sweater up and added a little more sugar to her smile, trying hard to distract Miss Diner Waitress from her marooning skin.

Austin turned back around, looking out over the sand and its distant water. Ally was pissed at him. He slid his hat on backwards, careful not to bend his sore hands too much. And when the black canvas, with its Mötley Crüe logo slightly sandy, was sitting comfortably over his blond locks, the 23 year old sighed.

His high was coming down.

He leaned a little to the side and spat. The left side of his face had begun to throb incessantly. The blonde examined his knuckles in the yellow glow of the diner's fluorescent lighting. His right hand was covered in quickly drying blood that obscured whatever damage was there. The left faired a bit better, only sporting a smear or two of darkening red over his inflamed skin.

"Ugh." He turned his head to spit again as his mouth gradually filled with the taste of old pennies. A glob of bloody saliva splattered to the wooden planks. Very gingerly, the blonde explored the left side of his mouth with the tip of his tongue, hissing when he probed a flap of skin that definitely wasn't supposed to be there. Austin suspected his tooth had cut into it when that Pauly D knockoff socked him in the face. He experimentally pushed the shredded piece of his cheek back into place, but only managed to create another warm gush of blood and an excruciating jab of pain. He spit again then leaned back into the bench.

"Hey!"

Austin was immediately at full attention. He sat up straight and rigid, his head snapping in the direction of the sudden call and, to his own surprise, his hands instantly balling into tight fists despite the pain. But it wasn't the overly tanned fucktard back for round 2 like he expected. Down the boardwalk a couple of random guys greeted each other loudly and with fist bumps. It took a few seconds but Austin eventually relaxed again.

Paranoia, hiding in the deceptively calm decline of his high, was rapidly snaking about the base of his brain. And, suddenly, Ally had been gone for way too long.

He turned to peer inside the diner. The blonde cashier was still there but no sign of Ally. Austin stood.

"Shit." the word slipped out under his breath as panic consumed him just as quickly as the paranoia. His eyes scanned the entire space, as if he'd spot her sitting having an impossibly late dinner or something other ridiculous thing. But she was nowhere in sight. No turquoise sweater, no grey leggings. He whirled around, the panic mushrooming within him because what if Dallas had been in there when Ally walked in? What if he'd shot her a wink and turned her blood to ice just before he grabbing her wrist and dragging her out the back? Austin's wide eyes traced the beach and boardwalk before him. Then he began to pace.

What if Dallas didn't have her? What if Ally ditched him? Sweat didn't quite break across his forehead but threatened to as heat built beneath his skin. What if she'd finally opened up to someone, to him, and then regretted it as she watched him behave like some kind of drug-crazed animal? What if she snuck out the rear of the diner without another thought, without even giving the back of his blonde head a second glance?

"Fuck!" he attempted to run a hand through his hair but only met the rough fabric of his hat. She was gone. She'd never want to speak to him again after what happened. Their last moments together and he'd spent them pounding some jackass into a bloody pulp and making her cry. His heart grew so heavy with the weight of this undeniable revelation that he bent just slightly at the waist. His stomach turned, fear, panic, and regret suddenly an extremely toxic combination souring his gut. He tried to rake both hands through his hair this time, to pull it until his scalp screamed and his anxiety fell away. But the Mötley Crüe cap brushed his palms again. Ally had told him her darkest, most agonizing secret and he'd immediately brought her to the boardwalk to come face to face with it. He was an asshole. He was a fucking asshole. And, finally realizing that, the brunette had abandoned him.

Austin flopped back down on the bench and held his head in his hands. Another sigh escaped him. This time it was one of those 'Mimi' sighs. The kind that took more than just air out of him.

"Okay I got some ice and-"

"Ally!?" he was up on his feet again as the brown-eyed songwriter came out of the diner with her arms full.

She narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously, her pace slowing as she approached, "Yeeaaahhh. Who else would it be?"

"Uh no one." He sat back down as heat flooded his face. But beneath the fabric of his shirt, the thin skin and the flat bones of his chest, Austin's heart leapt repeatedly in massive relief.

"Okaaaay." She sat beside him.

"Where were you?" he asked it as casually as he could without revealing the full magnitude of his paranoia.

"Ummm inside….?" She sat up straight after placing 2 large paper cups and a wad of paper towels on the ground. And then she sighed, her shoulders sagging disappointedly, "Are you still high?"

"Me? Uh no I'm um I'm coming down now so…" he wasn't completely sober but switching from sheer anxiety to overwhelming relief in the span of a second had him kind of flustered.

Ally rolled her eyes and reached into her purse "Okay well…" she pulled out a bottle of Tylenol, quickly unscrewed the cap, and shook out 2 little white pills, "…here take these for the pain. Your hand must be hurting pretty bad. I don't think they'll have any adverse effects since you're coming down."

He held his hand out and watched her drop the duo of oblong tablets into it. Her eyes were no longer red. She was speaking to him with the clinical, uncaring tone of someone who no longer gave a shit. His panic flared.

"Ally I'm-"

"Here." She thrust one of the cups at him. It was full of water. He tossed the pills in his mouth and took a quick swig before handing it back to her. The coolness stung his cut mouth at first then immediately soothed it.

"Thanks."

Ally wasn't even looking at him. Instead she focused on dunking a few of the paper towels in the cup of water before setting it back on the ground.

"Give me your hand." She demanded.

And when he presented her with his right, all caked with dried blood and beach sand, Austin watched her take in a deep breath and whisper, "Oh my gosh."

For a moment she just sat there staring and his leg began to bounce lightly up and down with the passing seconds. He thought she might run. But the brunette grasped his hand, unsurely yet gently, and started to wipe away the grit.

"You're pissed at me."

He spoke softly but with the certainty of someone stating a fact. His gaze followed the nimble movements her hands made before flashing up to her face, hoping the beautiful musician would look at him.

She just sighed, her eyes glued to his filthy knuckles, "Austin-"

"I shouldn't have dragged you down here like this especially after what you told me." He watched her stiffen just slightly, "This was the fucking dumbest shit I've ever done if you can believe that." He chuckled nervously but she didn't even crack a smile, didn't even look up. Austin licked his lips as she unearthed his inflamed knuckles from the sand and blood, "I know it may not seem like it but you can trust me with that kind of stuff. You don't ever have to hate wanting to."

She was silent. His anxiety returned, like insects creeping and crawling around underneath his skin.

"Ally come on say something." He stared at her dark eyelashes, spreading like fans across her cheeks as she kept her head down.

"Give me your other hand." She replied in that same detached tone.

He held it out with no hesitation. They were both quiet as she cleaned what little blood was marring his left hand. And the silence was immediately too much too bear.

"Come on madam Ally." he was on the verge of begging, "…I'm sorry."

She put the red stained paper towels off to the side and wordlessly picked up a couple of clean ones. He watched and waited and grew more anxious as she dunked them in the water. And when Ally reached up to start wiping the blood from around his mouth, a crackling of electricity climbed his spine.

"Don't call me that." She said almost robotically.

And it was strange to have her speak to him with that coldness while still touching him so tenderly. The tip of her finger brushed the very corner of his lips and Austin knew then that she wasn't done with him. And he definitely wasn't done with her. Not when he could stare at her brown eyes and have her finally look back. They sat like that, gazes locked, for a few tense but glorious seconds, before she returned to the task at hand. The cool paper towels ran across his chin.

"I told the cashier inside that you were hurt and asked her if you could use the bathroom and she said no. Can you believe that?" Ally said, her voice normal again, caring again.

"No I can't." he answered even though he knew it was a rhetorical question. The blonde didn't want to risk stopping their sudden conversation.

"I don't hate wanting to trust you." She said after another pause, "Well…not fully anyway. When you're you….like normal you and you look at me and say things that make me feel like I'm not falling apart. That's when trusting you doesn't seem so bad." She finished cleaning his face and dropped her hands to her lap. Their eyes met again, "But when you're….this Austin," she gestured vaguely towards him, "high as a kite and nearly stomping strangers into nothing-"

"It was-"

"It was scary Austin." She spoke over him, "And it just reminds me that I really don't know you very well."

He thought about that as she reached for the other paper cup. He was far more forthcoming than she'd ever been and yet she didn't truly know him, not really. Austin was giving her drugs and encouraging her to relinquish herself to their mind-numbing powers and yet, she didn't even know why he was snorting shit into his airways and sparking up owl-shaped bowls. His high was diminishing, his heart rate was regulating.

Ally reached into her shirt and pulled a clear plastic trash bag from her bra. His eyebrow rose in surprise and amusement.

"Umm…what was that?" he smirked.

"Ugh. That rude woman wouldn't even give me a to-go bag to put this ice in." she shook the bag open and poured the contents of the 2nd large cup into it, "I had to steal this one from the trash can in the bathroom."

"Ew." Austin recoiled from her.

"Oh no it was a replacement bag from under the sink. It's clean." Her face tinged pink.

"Oh."

She was about to tie the bag into a knot but reached inside and grabbed an ice cube first, "Here." She held it out to him, "For the inside of your cheek. You cut it right?"

"Yeah." He popped it in his mouth, "How'd you know?"

"You were bleeding profusely."

He pressed the ice to his sagging flap of flesh. Blood oozed out from behind it, coating his back molars. And the frigid temperature stung briefly before a deep numbness spread through his cheek. He turned his head to spit once more.

Ally scrunched up her nose in disgust, "Better?"

"Walk with me?"

"Um what?" Ally finally smiled, albeit more out of the absurdity of the question than anything else.

He took the bag from her as she finished tying a knot into it and placed it over his aching right hand. The cold was searing and soothing at the same time.

"You heard me." He spoke softly with a giant hunk of ice pushed into his cheek, "Walk with me Ally."

"How else are we supposed to get back to the car?" she deadpanned.

"You know what I mean." He searched her brown eyes, "Let's go down to the water. We'll walk and we'll talk like we usually do. None of this 'speaking to me like you don't give a shit anymore' crap, but real, actual conversation. You can really get to know me." He pointed at her, hastily adding, "AND I get to call you madam Ally. Non-negotiable."

She looked down, something chipping away at her obvious hesitation. Over the past frantic moments, a few more strands of her hair had pulled out of the pink rubber band holding all those weathered curls together. They hung in her face as she collected the cups and paper towels. The blonde ends of Ally's ponytail swung forward, brushing against her jawbone just like they'd done in his car, sweeping over Rihanna's lustful magazine cover as the 20 year old inhaled potent white dust. His eyes trailed a little lower to the bruise reaching out from underneath her sweater with pale yellow edges and big patches of maroon.

She sighed, letting her eyes creep up to his.

"Fine."

It was a pity walk. It had to be. But beneath the thick muck of his own self-doubt, Austin's heart did it again, that breath-stealing tremor.

He offered to carry her shoes but she declined. The floral Birkenstocks dangled from her fingers as she strode out into ankle deep water.

"It's cold!" she called to him as he stayed in the more 'toe-high' side of things.

"Yeah no shit." he grinned.

He hadn't gotten a word from her on the bench as she tied the bag of ice to his hand with some extra gauze from her purse. There had been complete silence as they walked off the boardwalk and trekked across the sand, noiseless except for the low crunch of microscopic granules beneath their bare soles. Then her feet hit ocean water and all of a sudden they were on speaking terms again.

"You're not going to come out here?!" Ally asked over the roar of the waves, her leggings rolled up to mid-shin.

He was going to say no but he didn't want to ruin the progress he was making with whatever it was he and the brunette had. And his sneakers were already hanging on his fingers and his joggers were already pushed up to his knees. So he waded out to where she stood swirling her toes in the water and smiling like it was the most serene thing she'd ever felt. He reached her and they began to walk in the direction of the parking lot. Austin munched on the remnants of his ice cube, relishing the pacifying numbness in his cheek. He explored the wound with his tongue and discovered that the bleeding had stopped. He carefully shifted the ice bag strapped to his hand. Even when she was pissed off and disappointed, Ally had still tended to his injuries.

"Hey I…" he paused to clear his throat, "I really am sorry about all of this…bringing you here, yelling at you like I did. I was being a dick and the blow's no excuse." He was hardly the apologizing type, but he could tell when something needed to be said, needed to be emphasized.

"In my defense though that Jersey Shore looking guy was a fucking asshole AND he hit me in my face what else was I supposed to do?"

Ally looked at him like he was crazy, "But you hit him first."

"Well yeah but-…..touché Dawson."

She laughed then, only a little, and just under her breath, but a laugh all the same. Austin stuffed his left hand in his pocket casually.

"Ally, I uh know it probably doesn't seem like it but I do appreciate you telling me what happened to you." He looked at her but she stared down at the dark grey water. "I know you were high as hell when you said it but I hope you know you can trust me with that kind of stuff, coke or no coke."

Her gaze didn't let up. It remained submerged in the Atlantic Ocean. Austin waited. He was not a patient guy in the least, but for her he waited. And when she spoke it was with a voice so tiny, the crashing waves nearly swallowed it whole.

"There's one part of that story that I didn't tell you."

Again he waited as 2 pairs of feet sloshed through the water and mud. This time her voice shook.

"When he uh...When he…f-f-finished," the word flung from her lips like something to be disposed of. Ally closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, "Uh when he finished….he didn't just say 'That wasn't so bad huh Ally-cat?'."

"What'd he say?"

She chewed on her bottom lip. Another quick closing of her eyes. Another slow, lung filling breath. It struck him then how truly difficult this was for her sober.

"Um well he did say that but that wasn't the first thing he said." She swiped the stray strands of hair from her face, "Right before he r-…rolled off of me the first thing he said was…'Sorry'. Like he just accidentally bumped my shoulder in the hallway or something."

She stopped. He stopped. Ally pressed a hand to her forehead, eyebrows knitting together in painful worry as the final details came kicking and screaming out of her.

"Oh God Austin. He apologized to me! And then do you know what I said? Do you know what I, Ally Dawson, said to the guy who just raped me and apologized for it?"

"Wh-"

"I said 'Oh uh it's okay.'." She looked at him, devastation all over her face, "I'm such a people-pleasing pushover that my automatic response to EVERYTHING is 'it's okay'! You cut in front of me in line? It's okay. You make me do all the work in our group project? It's okay. You want to hold me down and force me to have sex with you? It's OKAY!"

She flung her arms out and raised her eyebrows as if she was surprised at herself, "What the hell is wrong with me Austin?!"

"Noth-"

"There MUST be something wrong with me because I told him that it was OKAY to RAPE me! There must be something wrong with me because not only did I cheat on the perfect guy, but a few months later I'm throwing lemonade in his face and breaking up with him in front of a room full of people!" she shook her head, "Jesus Christ. No wonder I got raped."

"Ally what the fuck? Don't say shit like that."

"But it's true!"

"No it's not fucking true!" he was more hurt than angry, a very unfamiliar ratio for the blonde.

"Think about it!" she began to count on her fingers, "I turn Trent into a monster then he starts hitting me. I dump him in public then I get raped. I don't go to the police about Dallas and I randomly run into him FOURTEEN HUNDRED MILES from where I thought I left him! I'm being punished! I deserve all of this!"

"Ally are you fucking kidding me right now?" he gently took her shoulders, attempting to hold her together as she systematically destroyed herself.

"It's just like you said Austin. It's up to me." Her brown eyes were nearly black with sorrow, "It's up to ME! I'm letting Dallas have his freedom by not saying anything!"

Pain, bone deep and merciless, pierced his core. And all at once he didn't know which was more heartbreaking: her tragic way of thinking or the tears that trickled across her face and sparkled in the moonlight. Austin took her wrist gently in his hand, careful not to make her drop her sandals, and led her up onto the dry sand. Ally was tethering him to reality with just that slender wrist in his palm. He couldn't afford to suffocate under his enormous guilt because her limbs were trembling and she needed him. And he was supporting her too, with a tender grasp, assuring her that at least one person was there to offer something as precious as understanding. He picked a spot on the vacant beach and sat down, prompting her to sit beside him. They crossed their legs Indian-style, turned slightly to face each other. And he made sure he had her full attention before he ignored the throbbing in his hand and spoke.

"Ally listen to me." He captured her wide gaze, "Fuck whatever I said back there okay. I didn't know what I was talking about. I was being a fucking idiot and I had no idea what I was even saying alright. I was high out of my mind."

"But-"

"No buts Ally." He kept his voice somewhat firm because he really needed her to hear this, he needed to end this ultra-destructive thought process that she had, "This is normal Austin talking, you know the one you said you felt like you could trust? The one that's not a complete shithead?"

She hesitated then nodded before wiping her face.

"This is that Austin right now. You're not being punished for anything Ally." He paused to wander her brown eyes for a second, "No one deserves that kind of pain, especially not you okay? Sometimes shitty things happen to awesome people. But none of it was your fault and you didn't deserve any of it."

The brunette bit her lip but didn't respond. Austin's mouth went dry.

"You're…remarkable." He rasped, tracing every outline of her face, around her lips, curving about her nose, defining each expressive eye.

And suddenly all of those lines seemed to be curving upwards as she ducked her head to hide a shy smile.

He grinned, "Okay?"

She wiped her face again and took a deep breath, "Okay."

And Austin knew that she wasn't just magically done blaming herself for all the pain. He knew from experience that those deep, hemorrhaging kind of wounds took forever to heal, and that's if they ever did at all. No, Ally wasn't fine, she wasn't fixed, but he didn't expect his little pep talk to cure her emotional sickness. But if it helped to dry her burning tears and liberate her sunshine smile and brighten her bronze irises then that was victory….warm, metallic, and wonderfully painful.

"You want to head to the car?" he moved to stand.

"Can we just sit here for a little while?"

Austin obliged, sitting back on his bottom. He planted his feet flat on the ground and folded his arms over the tops of his knees. It took him by surprise when Ally, sober Ally, scooted close and laid her head on his shoulder. Their shoes, flowery Birkenstocks and black Vans, sat patiently on the golden grains. The pair stared out at the dark ocean as it churned in perpetual motion.

"He just seemed so nice in the beginning." She sighed. "It's crazy how people can act a certain way then do something so completely unexpected."

Austin scoffed, "Tell me about it."

"Do you know someone like that?"

"Correction. I knew someone like that."

"What do you mean?"

"Well he's taking a dirt nap now."

Her head shot up off of his shoulder, "Your dad?"

"Ding ding ding ding." Austin sounded the imaginary bell.

"Is that why you two didn't get along?"

He didn't say anything for a moment. They both sat there listening to the ever-present rush of the sea. Austin tried to focus on all the surrounding sensations as his heart began to pick up speed: the sand beneath him, the dark sky, the darker ocean, the pain pulsating across his bruised knuckles, the feel of Ally being so close. And then he made himself speak, before he lost his nerve.

"Let me show you something." He leaned away from her a little and lifted the left side of his shirt, exposing his ribs. Tattooed there, almost in the exact same spot as the shredded mattress on his right, was one word: 'invictus'. It was written as if typed in a large, neat font and with each lowercase 'i' sporting an oversized dot.

"Invictus." she read it then looked at him with those big eyes, "What does that mean?"

"It's Latin for unconquerable." He let his shirt fall back into place. "It's the title of a poem I had to read in 10th grade."

"Wow. I barely remember anything from 10th grade."

He cracked a smile, "I remember it because it changed everything."

"How so?"

"I mean…" he probed the cut in his mouth again, garnering a few small bolts of pain, "I mean I read that poem and then like 5 days later….I was gone."

Brown eyes met brown eyes.

"You ran away."

It was more a statement than a question. She still remembered Austin telling her that he saved every cent he made at Moon's Mattress Kingdom because he wanted to leave. She remembered asking him why then watching his fingers run through his hair and his brown eyes darken before he simply replied 'Because I was miserable'.

"My dad and I had a pretty good relationship when I was little." He began carefully. She watched him and he watched the water, "He'd play Legos with me and he taught me how to ride a bike, you know all of that typical dad shit. Overall he was….an okay guy. Even I can admit that."

"I only met him once or twice when I came back for Christmas break but he seemed nice." Ally carefully offered, "And my Dad went on and on about what a great deal he gave him on a couple of new mattresses."

"Yeah he was always a good businessman. Good businessman….okay dad…kind of crappy husband."

"Crappy how?"

"He kind of had this 'way' about him. He was strict sometimes. I wouldn't say he was like a tyrant or anything but if he got something into his head then that was that. He was the epitome of 'my way or the highway' you know what I mean? With me AND Mom."

She nodded.

"He would boss her around and do things out of spite, just to show her that he was in control. Like little passive aggressive bullshit. Like sometimes when he got mad at her over something, he'd stop and grab takeout on his way home from work when he knew that she was already cooking." Austin shook his head, remembering all too well, "He'd come in the house with a pizza box or a McDonald's bag in his hand and this big grin on his face. And of course I'm 6 years old going ape shit over a burger and fries. I could care less that Mimi just spent the whole day looking after me and the past few HOURS preparing dinner. No, I was too busy jumping up and down at Mike's feet, begging for my Happy Meal." Austin chewed his bottom lip, picturing the familiar scenario in his mind, "And when he bent down to hand me the burger or the greasy carton or whatever he'd brought, he would always shoot my mom this glance. It was just a quick little flash of his brown eyes and I never thought anything of it at the time but…..He was sending her message with that glance. She'd stand there in the kitchen doorway with her apron strings tied, just completely exhausted, and get this devastated look on her face because all that hard work over the stove, that entire labor of love, was unappreciated and undermined by the man she'd married. And, as if that petty bullshit wasn't enough, he always gave her a glance because he knew she was standing there. He asserted himself with those eyes. He told her, with just his irises and pupils alone, that he was in charge and she should think twice before pissing him off again. He didn't do shit like that all the time but I think something inside of Mimi faded every time he did." Austin suddenly chuckled, "And I was too young and stupid to understand how she could possibly look so sad when we were having pizza for dinner, like that was just the coolest thing ever. I'd always go up to her while she stood crumbling just inside the kitchen and I'd hold up the junk food to and try to get her as excited as me. I mean Dad had just rescued us from broccoli and meatloaf how could she NOT be excited about that? And she'd smile down at me but it was always weak because Mike had just given her that glance and put her in her place."

He stopped to prod the inside of his cheek again, hoping the pain would somehow depress his sudden desire for a cigarette.

"She never got excited enough about my Happy Meals so eventually I stopped trying to make her and I stopped noticing the way her shoulders sagged and her face fell in the doorway of the kitchen. It wasn't until I was 8 or 9 that I realized she'd stopped standing there altogether. When my Dad walked in with some more food that wasn't hers she just turned off all the appliances she'd have going and go upstairs to pout or sulk or who knows what." Austin started to untie the gauze on his hand carefully, "Then the 'who knows what' turned out to be crying. I think the first time I caught her it was because I was bragging to my friends that I had found an arrow head in my backyard. So I ran back into the house to grab it but I stopped because I had to pass her bedroom to get to my bedroom and I heard her. I knew what crying sounded like but I had no idea what my mom's crying sounded like. And I remember a little sliver of fear crept down my spine at just the sound alone. I had never heard her cry before but I'd seen enough movies to know that a mom crying either meant divorce or a grandparent died and I wanted so badly to unhear that noise, go grab my arrow head, and enjoy the jealous looks on my friends' faces. But I didn't. I couldn't. She was my mom and she was sad so I had to do something. So I pushed her door open carefully. She was sitting on the bed with her legs crossed and her hands folded in her lap and her head bowed. I remember thinking how, in her casual dress and proper position, she looked like she belonged in the pew of a church, not the cramped bedroom of some cheap one story. I also remember how still she was, even after I opened the door all the way and stood there staring at the top of her head. She was almost completely motionless except for the tears dripping from her face and splashing against her arms….and then her shoulders would shudder a little as she struggled to breathe. When I called out to her she tried to hurry and clean herself up and slap on a smile but I knew even then that unseeing was even more impossible than unhearing."

He unwound the gaze and removed the bag of ice from his right hand. A gentle attempt at flexing it made him cringe. His digits were stiff with this deeply painful numbness. He set the plastic bag beside him in the sand.

"I asked her what was wrong but she just kept saying it was nothing. She wanted to pretend it had never happened and so did I. Like you have no idea how badly I did. But at the same time there was this kind of ache in the back of my brain that wouldn't let me leave her while she was so obviously upset. I forgot all about the arrow head. I stayed with her instead, asking if she needed any help with dinner. She smiled a real smile then. I spent the rest of the afternoon in the kitchen chopping and stirring things and making her laugh as much as I could."

"Awwww that's so cute." Ally smiled.

He rolled his eyes playfully, "Relax Dawson."

"I think it's sweet."

"Yeah yeah yeah." He ran a hand down his suddenly blushing face, "So anyway, after that I pay closer attention and I start to see the way my dad treats her. And, instead of trying to unhear the sound of her crying, I actively listen for it and hope that I can make her smile again. I mean, I don't want you to think Mike was just an asshole all the time." He glanced over at the brunette, "I'm pretty sure he loved her at least to some extent. Most of the time he was sweet to her. You know, sneaking kisses when she wasn't paying attention or bringing her 'Just because it's Tuesday' flowers and all kinds of lovey dovey shit like that. It's just when she defied him even in the slightest or if her actions somehow stopped things from going his way, he was cruel," the blonde's brown eyes hardened, "…and he was merciless. So the relationship between me and my mom became one of this sort of reverse reliance. I was a kid comforting his mother when she was sad and picking up the pieces when a bully pushed her to tears. I was there for her whenever she needed me, even when I wanted to go out and play with my friends, even when the sight and sound of her being so miserable made my heart hurt more than I thought I could bear sometimes." Austin paused as a familiar darkness began to seep into his chest cavity, "I was there for her whenever she needed me Ally. So when Mike starts hitting me…I can't even begin to understand why Mimi doesn't do shit about it."

"He hit you?" Ally gasped in disturbed surprise.

He grinned as he opened the bag of ice and took a cube out, "Didn't expect that from the mattress king huh?"

She just looked at him, concern flickering in her brown eyes like flames, "Keep going."

He stuffed the hunk of ice into his mouth and pressed it to his cheek as pain reawakened in it. And when a cold tingle began to close over his wound, Austin watched the waves lap at the shore.

"It all started on my 11th birthday really. I wanted a guitar more than anything, more than a party or even a cake. I had already been in love with music for as long as my brain could physically remember, but it wasn't until my 5th grade music appreciation class that I just became hopelessly obsessed with it. I begged my parents for a two-toned sunburst Fender Strat because I fucking worshipped Eric Clapton back then. I begged them for months and I did all my fucking chores and I was the most well-behaved 10 year old in Miami. But when my birthday rolled around I didn't get a guitar. And when I asked my dad why he said because I needed to focus on learning business so I could run the store after he retired and learning to play the guitar would just be a distraction. I was 11 and he wanted me to learn business." Austin spat the word out, "It was fucking bullshit. And even back then I knew it was fucking bullshit. I mean I was in the 5th grade for Christ's sake gimme a fucking break. And it was at that exact moment that I truly began to resent him. I remember it like it was just yesterday like it's seared into my brain. I remember feeling something click inside of me and I suddenly saw Mike for the controlling, overbearing man that he really was. I'd been drying Mimi's tears for the past 2 years so I already wasn't his biggest fan. But when he looked me in my eyes and told me that guitars, MUSIC, things that were already rooted in my heart even before it was done growing, were nothing but distractions I just….I mean he'd already made up my life for me and I had only JUST turned 11 and in that moment, even surrounded by balloons and ripped wrapping paper, I truly disliked him. I didn't hate him. But I really didn't fucking like him."

Austin took a moment to shift the ice cube around a bit and give his cheek a break from the relentless numbing. Ally was silent beside him.

"I started working in the mattress store a few months later. They had me 'shadowing' some of the salesmen and helping with inventory you know simple stuff. And I hated- Ally I hated being there so much I wanted to scream. It was so boring and tedious and all I could think was that if I spent those hours taking guitar lessons instead of learning about mattresses I could've been up on stage with Bob Dylan before my 13th birthday." He chuckled as Ally giggled, "I'm serious. I was losing my sanity bit by bit every day after school from 4 to 8. And that little seed of resentment that Mike planted on my birthday sprouted. So one day, instead of taking the bus straight to the store after school, I went to the music store in the mall. I was there for HOURS messing around with the guitars and talking to the guy working there. He let me play for a while and even gave me like a little impromptu lesson on one of the Strats. It was fucking awesome." Austin licked his lips, suddenly wondering if the high he felt that afternoon at the mall was the one he constantly chased with blow and weed. He bit into the ice cube and munched carefully.

"By the time I got back home it was like 6 or 7 and both my parents were waiting for me. Mom rushed over and hugged me hard enough to squeeze all the air from my lungs. I told her that I was only at the mall and she just cried and held me in her arms. But dad….he watched us for a second with this expressionless face, then went to call the police and tell them that I was back. They sent an officer over anyway just to make sure everything was truly okay. And the entire time the cop was there talking to me, I could see my dad standing behind him with that same flat look. Something told me to speak, to tell the cop that Mike's face hadn't moved at all in the past hour and that there were knots forming in my stomach but I didn't really know why. But I didn't say any of that and the officer left me with a smile and a warning. Mike waited until we heard the patrol car drive away before he started screaming at me. It was the angriest I had seen him so far. His face turned blood red and the veins at his temples and branching down his forehead were like pythons underneath his skin. It scared the shit out of me but I knew that if I backed down then I'd be headed right back to the mattress store and, after playing the guitar for a few hours, I knew I could never stop. So I stood up to him even with fearful tears in my eyes and my heart in my throat. I told him how much I hated the store. I yelled it at him and I shouted how much I loved the feel of that Fender Strat in my hand. I shouted until my throat hurt because he was right there in my face and shouting even louder about how he forbid me from ever experiencing that ever again. And I panicked…..I panicked because I was obsessed with music and I was so deeply in love with the guitar that it hurt in a way that I needed to feel always. So I stood up on my tiptoes and wiped the tears from my face and I screamed that I wasn't going to set another fucking foot back in that store again."

"You said that to your dad."

"I said those EXACT words madam Ally." Austin popped another small chunk of ice in his mouth, "Except I didn't quite get the whole sentence out because 'fucking' left my lips then a quarter of a second later they were both split open and bleeding." He cradled the prickling cold against his fleshy flap of skin, shaking his head, "God, he punched me so fucking hard. I hear my mom yell his name and feel her hands on my shoulders as I go staggering backwards. There's a second where I'm standing there holding my mouth and it just feels warm and cold and numb all at the same time. Then heat starts dripping into my palms and this horrible pain fills the whole bottom half of my face. I look down into my hands and they're splattered with blood and I press them back to my lips and I look up at him but he's already storming out the front door. And then the shock of it wears off and the pain is full force in my mouth but I don't want Mimi to see me crying so I run to my bedroom….and fuck if that wasn't the worst mistake I ever made."

"Why?"

"Because running is weak." He replied, "If I was smart I would've followed him outside with blood in my teeth and blood dripping down my chin and called him a fucking pussy but I didn't. I ran away and he won. I gave him permission to hit me whenever he needed to get his point across." Austin searched for the nearly invisible horizon where midnight sky met black ocean, "And that's exactly what he did."

They were silent for a second that lingered on into a moment. But it was the comfortable kind of silence that they'd somehow mastered in just a few days. It was the sort of noiselessness where Austin knew that he could remain there next to her, not saying anything, and Ally would simply grasp his hand or touch his shoulder just to let him know that she'd stay, quiet and waiting, for as long as he needed. He soaked in that reassurance like sunrays before shifting the ice around in his mouth and clearing his throat.

"He hit me almost every day after that. My own father. Even when I tried my best to please him and especially when I got sick of his shit and mouthed off. He'd slap me in the back of the head for not smiling genuinely enough at the customers. He'd punch me in the stomach for watching guitar tutorials on YouTube when I was supposed to be studying the Mattress Kingdom business model. He'd beat the shit out of me when I told him how much I hated him. For years it went on like that Ally. Years."

"What about your mom?" she asked softly.

"Mimi tried to stop him at first but he'd always push her out of the way or give her that glance that she hated so much. Eventually she stopped trying. She'd just go in her room and close the door and try to unhear the sound of me crying. I always tried to make her feel better when Dad treated her like shit. And when he abused me just for being me, she turned her back. I couldn't fucking believe it."

Ally's hand was suddenly on his shoulder, soothing the anger that had started to bubble up inside of him again, "Why didn't you tell anyone?"

"Same reason as you I guess." He shrugged, "The telling makes it real."

And the way she sighed then, giving him eyes full of sympathy before nodding her head just slightly, allowed him to truly breathe for what felt like the first time in 7 years.

"I-I-…." The blonde faltered for a second then soldiered on, "…when you talked about that look Dallas gave you….the one where you knew he was going to take something from you…..I know that look Ally."

"You do?"

"I saw it in my dad's face one day when I was 13. I had just bought the Gibson at a yard sale and he was about to give me the worse beating yet. At the time I thought he just wanted to break me, wanted to take away my love for music or my defiance or something. But then when I was 16 I just couldn't take it anymore-…"

Austin stopped without even telling himself to. It was like every part of his airway dried up all at once. The words crumbled and died in his throat. He was frightened, terrified even, at just the memory alone. And when he spoke, it was with the desire for a cigarette burning his throat.

"It was almost too convenient," he began, his voice barely there and wavering, "They have so many box cutters at the store that they didn't even notice when 2 of them went missing in 3 weeks. With the first one I lost my nerve and threw it away the same day that I stole it. Then a couple of miserable weeks later I stole another one because I was too lifeless inside to lose my nerve again. I closed my bedroom door but I left my bathroom door open so I could see the Gibson propped up next to my bed when I stared into the mirror. It was the first guitar I'd ever bought and the one I'd taught myself how to play on. It represented my love for music and looking at it made me feel…..good. I imagined it'd be waiting for me…afterwards…..And I could play to my heart's content up above the Earth for all of eternity. That's all I was thinking about when I rolled up my sleeves."

A large lump formed in Austin's throat as he relived the most pivotal moment in his entire existence. Ally, removing her hand from his shoulder, reached over to grab his hand instead. Their fingers laced.

"It's weird. Your wrists aren't really a part of the body you think about or even really look at often. When I stared down at mine that afternoon it was like seeing them for the first time. The skin there was paler than the rest of me. And when I bent my hands back and twisted my arms I could see tendons, small and large, go taught. It took me a while to find the artery. I kept feeling for the pulse but couldn't get it. I eventually had to Google it and it said I was probably pressing too hard. I tried to be gentler and even then I sucked at it. After a few minutes I decided to just wing it. I knew the general area and I knew which direction to run the blade and I figured that had to be enough…I prayed that that was enough…..I went back into the bathroom." He heard Ally sniffle beside him, "I remember just holding the tip of the box cutter to my skin and it feeling like ice. I don't know if it was really that cold or if my mind was just playing tricks on me. I was breathing heavy and my heart was hammering. I glanced up at the mirror and saw my Gibson staring back at me. I thought there'd be a…I don't know some kind of calming feeling you know, relief that it'd be over soon but I just felt more fear. It was different than the constant fear I'd lived with for years but it was still fear. I was afraid. Fuuuck I was so fucking afraid Ally. The blade was pressing into my left wrist hard enough for it to dent the skin but not break it. And I knew that I was going to lose my nerve soon. I knew because my hands were shaking like crazy, like I just could not hold them still. Tears….they were the hottest ones I'd ever experienced, rushed down my face. I felt trapped in that bathroom because there was death looming inside of it and pain waiting outside of it. I was trapped. I looked up into the mirror again and my heart stopped. He was there." Austin gasped and shuddered, unexpected tears suddenly falling from his eyes and shining under the dim moonlight, "My dad was standing there. I didn't hear him come in the room but he was right there just outside the bathroom door and blocking my view of the Gibson. And he could SEE what I was doing because I was frozen with the blade still gently at my wrist and tears still streaming down my face. He SAW what I was doing Ally. HE SAW IT. And he just stood there staring at me through the mirror. His face was expressionless. It felt like an eternity." Austin wiped his face, "I couldn't move. I couldn't think or speak or anything. It was the loudest, longest silence of my life. And then, without saying anything, Mike turned and walked out. He closed my door and didn't say anything. My knees buckled. My hands lost all feeling and dropped the box cutter. It skittered across the floor as I collapsed against the sink. God, I hadn't even cut my fucking wrists and for a second I thought I was going to die anyway. Somewhere in the middle of it, while I tried to breathe again, I finally realized what that look in Mike's eyes had been that day when I was 13. He did want to take something from me but it wasn't a goddamn guitar or even my defiance. It-…"

He went quiet, wiping his face and biting his lip harder than he meant to.

"Fuck." Austin took a deep breath, "It was my will to live Ally. " he heard a small sob leave the petite brunette but his brown eyes only watched the waves, "All those years he wanted to take my will to live from me. And, for a few minutes, he did."

"Oh my God Austin." Ally choked, "That's terrible."

"A few days later while I was at school, we read that poem. Invictus. And it was all about rising up despite the harshest adversity. It was all about controlling your own fate and overcoming the pain and the darkness. And it resonated with me so much that I started to believe in myself again as corny as it sounds. It took me 5 days to build up enough courage to run away. I had what I thought was plenty of money. It was a Wednesday. I left that morning like I did every morning, but instead of stopping at the bus stop I just kept walking. I wanted to get as far away from Miami as I could with the cheapest bus ticket I could afford. Turns out that was some nowhere city in South Carolina." Austin paused to lick his lips as he thought about Nina and the mahogany table, "I shoplifted from grocery stores and slept wherever I thought I wouldn't get robbed. I practically perfected the dine-and-dash and made money playing guitar on the street. And if I got sick of being somewhere, I just packed up and hitchhiked or bought a bus ticket. It was rough I'm not gonna lie. But there was a freedom in it that I loved. Some days I'd strum the strings for hours and hours and only make 50 cents but the looks people would give me as they walked by…the winks from pretty girls, the approving head nods….they liked my playing. But by the time I sort of migrated up the coast and hit Virginia Beach, I was 17 and I'd gotten even better but I was just barely scraping by. So one day I go to get a 5-finger discount on some candy bars or whatever and as I'm leaving with my pockets stuffed, this girl runs out and stops me. It's Didi and it's probably the meanest I'll ever see her." He laughed suddenly, "And even then she's still nicer than like 90% of the people I've ever met. She kind of gestures to the guitar case strapped to my back and asks me if I'm any good. And already I'm on the defensive because I know she can hear the candy wrappers crinkling in my pocket. So I'm all like "Who's fucking asking?" because I'm an asshole teenager with a thick skin. But she still smiles at me and in a firm voice she says that she won't tell her boss about me stealing if I promise to come by her house later to audition for her brother's band. And that night I go to her place even though I'm insanely paranoid that she'll have the cops there waiting for me or something ridiculous like that. But instead of the police, it's 3 guys around my age named Gavin, Dez, and Jace standing there with their instruments and wondering who the hell I am. I'm nervous as shit because I've never auditioned for anything ever, but the thought of being in a band is so exciting that I take the Gibson in my shaking hands and I glance over at Didi, the smiling older girl who was nice enough not to turn in a candy bar thief. And as I'm playing, they all start to smile….they liked it. I'd spent years practicing on a guitar made of cardboard and rubberbands for fuck's sake. And after that I taught myself on a garage sale Gibson by YouTubing and winging it across states. But it had all payed off because they liked it and they liked me. And when I finished they were so excited, telling me how awesome they thought I was and then they asked me if I could sing. Up until then I hadn't sung any more than the average person but when I bust out some 'Don't Stop Believing', they go fucking nuts and just like that I'm Copper Top's new lead guitarist and lead vocalist."

Here Ally frowned in confusion, "Copper Top?"

He grinned, "That was the band's original name because Dez started it and he has red hair. God that was a stupid fucking name but we all thought it was pretty cool for a while. Then we grew up and changed it to Flesh & Bone not too long after. And things are going so good for the next 2 years that one day I randomly decide to come back to Miami for a visit." He shook his head, "Fucking stupid idea."

"How come?" Ally asked.

"Because I fly down here thinking that, because I'm older and smarter, things'll be different. In my naïve little 19 year old imagination I picture myself telling my parents that Flesh & Bone has won 5 Battle of the Bands competitions and has a massive YouTube following and having them embrace me like the long lost son that I am. I think that if I can just show them how successful I've been with just my guitar and my passion alone that they'll both finally understand the choices I've made, they'll finally understand me. I was a fucking idiot. I get there and nothing's changed. My Dad ignores me until he can't stand listening to me talk about my music anymore and screams that I'm his biggest disappointment, that he's spent his whole life in his sister Diane's shadow, that he's always been his parents' least favorite kid and now he can't even produce a son to take over the family business. And Mom keeps her mouth shut. She always keeps her mouth shut. And it's just me and Dad screaming at each other just like we used to and he cocks his fist back and tries to swing at me just like he used to but I didn't spend a year and half stealing food and sleeping on park benches for that motherfucker to treat me like some weak ass 11 year old again. No fucking way. So I dodge it and I punch him in his face because I'm stronger than I used to be and the rage and the resentment I've had for that piece of shit has just been festering and growing inside of me." Austin focuses on something far away, "And this time it's his turn to stand there shocked and bleeding while I storm out. I hadn't even taken my bag out of the rental car yet Ally. And already I was running away again. Nothing had changed. So I got an earlier flight and the night I got back to Virginia the guys kept asking me how it went. I told them it sucked so they took me to this party and got me drunk out of my mind. That's the same night that got us all banned from CVS."

He chuckled but she didn't. The brunette just sat there quietly, legs crossed, fingers trailing in the sand.

"But that didn't matter because I was back where I belonged, taking shots and laughing my ass off with people who accepted me. I grew with those guys Ally. Didi helped me get a job at a local music store and the manager let me rent a room in a small apartment above it. Gavin helped me polish my guitar skills. It was perfect. Every shitty thing I endured led me to the coast of Virginia where I was meant to be. It was fucking perfect. And yea my past was still the same horrible thing it had always been. The scar on my leg that I got from Mike when I was 12 didn't magically fade away. The painful memories didn't disappear. But it was still okay."

Austin turned his brown eyes to the beautiful girl beside him.

"It's okay to be broken Dawson." He watched her as she stared out over the black ocean, "That's what glue is for."

A smile shattered her pensive expression. She looked down at her bare feet, breathing giggles and shaking her head, "You know glue doesn't make things perfect though right?"

"Well yea but that's the beauty of it isn't it?" he turned slightly, propping himself up on his good hand and folding his left leg down flat against the sand. His right knee stayed up, supporting his right arm. "It puts you back in one piece but you still have all these visible cracks and chips and sometimes people can even see a little bit of it drying. But the ones who aren't complete shitheads know that every chip is a sign of resilience, not weakness. Every crooked line is just part of your story and what's a human being without a story?"

His eyes slid across her jaw line and smoothed over her elegant neck down to the bruise she'd started trying to hide again.

"And someone's gonna come along, perhaps a blonde who plays guitar," he shot her a grin before gently biting his lip and letting his voice dropped to a gravelly whisper of an octave, "and he'll run his hands over you slowly…. He'll feel how perfectly un-smooth you are and he's going to appreciate that beautiful texture of yours."

She looked at him, her gaze abandoning the moonlit sea for a 23 year old who was just as vast and just as indescribable. It was a soulful meeting of brown eyes and so much electricity that blonde hairs stood up on muscled arms and brunette hairs rose on a slender neck.

"When are you leaving for OHA?" she murmured quietly as her breathing grew shallow.

He stared at her mouth as it parted, and swallowed the spontaneous 'I'm not' that threatened to escape him. Instead, Austin fought through the euphoric haze that was Ally Dawson and thought with his more rational mind.

"9am." He replied, his voice still on the rough side of a whisper.

Then, with her heart pounding in fear, Ally leaned in, moving slowly toward him as her eyes fluttered close. Austin let her. And when they connected with a soft kiss he knew that he would never hate the smell of ocean water again. Not when he could inhale that scent and have his brain instantly rush back to her and the first time she really kissed him.

She pulled away gently but kept herself close, the tips of their noses nearly touching.

"Will you come see me before you leave?" she whispered.

And he didn't even have the proper words to express how not seeing her before he left wasn't even a physical possibility. So Austin simply nodded with a teasing smirk.

"You're fucking needy madam Ally. You know that?"

She smiled. Then she grinned and pressed her forehead against his for a brief but supremely intimate moment. He kissed her again, deeper this time. And when she reached up to rest her hand over his heart, Austin grasped it and held it there.