DISCLAIMER: I own nothing. These characters are solely those of the original producers, 'Kevin and Heath Productions' and 'Disney'. I do not take credit for characters or relationships between characters. Do not sue. Copyright infringement not intended.

I want to thank everyone for their continued patience. I've been seriously distracted with school right now (I'm failing my first period class) as well as my other Auslly story. I haven't published that one, yet, but I might publish publish it instead of only posting it here. I don't know. Anyway, thank you guys, again, and I'll try to have another one up by Wednesday if I can. Also, I thought I published this chapter a few days ago, but realized that I only uploaded in to the Doc Manager and forgot to actually post the chapter. Sorry!

P.S. Keep giving me suggestions on good Auslly fics to read. :) I love them. Preferably not one-shots, unless they're realllly good. I like angst, crime, suspense, hurt/comfort and romance, so pour 'em in. Even if you want me to read yours, let me know.

If you haven't read it, yet, check out Looking For One Tonight. It's the only Austin & Ally fic titled that. I forget the author, but it's really good. I love it.

Thanks, guys! You're the best! :) #FearsandFatalities on Twitter or Instagram! I'll follow whoever does! amyleepower

When Trish wakes up, she looks around, dazed, and realizes who she's laying on. She jerks away, startled. "Uh, ew," I hear her whisper, more to herself than anyone else.

I choke back laughter. Dez was sleeping. Austin had fallen asleep on my shoulder and I didn't want to wake him. I was sitting there, mindlessly watching the title menu for Zaliens over and over again. It didn't bother me, the repetitiveness. It was almost relaxing, be able to focus on one thing.

I didn't want to fall asleep. Last night I dreamt about that little room Trent kept me locked in. All I could remember was feeling so alone and afraid. I remember being in so much pain from Trent's consistent beatings. He explained it to me as 'doing my makeup' for a 'photo shoot' exclusively for Austin. I had to look bad in order to get saved. I remember crying every day. The only source of hope I had was the little caterpillar. I had woken up, chills running up and down my spine.

But I never told anyone that. Not even Austin. I didn't want him to worry. I was fine, really. I just had a couple bad dreams. That's it.

Trish moving around the bed snaps me back to reality. "You okay?" I whisper.

She looks at me, still looking dazed and confused. "Uh," she murmurs. "Yeah, I think so."

She pulls the blanket from Dez and cuddles up with it on the other side of the bed, almost immediately falling to sleep. I sit there, staring at the wall. Austin's shoulder is oddly comfortable and all I want to do is sleep for a good 12 hours, yet at the same time, I want to avoid sleep at all costs.

But I can't help it.

AUSTIN'S POINT OF VIEW

I wake to Ally shaking in her sleep, clutching my shirt with her life. Initially, I'm confused. But I soon get over that when I realize she's having a nightmare. I jump up, careful not to let her fall, and grab a blanket. I scoop her up in it, noticing the remarkable soft fabric, and run outside with her on the patio. I set her down on the porch swing, kneeling beside her and stroking her hair.

"Ally," I coo. "It's okay, I'm here."

She wakes suddenly, looking at me with wide and frightened eyes. "Austin?" she asks, terror dripping from her voice.

I just nod and continue to stroke her hair, her breaths becoming calmer and slower.

"I had a bad dream," she exclaims. "About Trent. He blew up the mall while we were all in the basement." Tears start to fall from her eyes. "But before he did he shot us. Both you and I. Then before the police could find him, he blew himself up. We all died. That's when I woke up. God, I hate these dreams," she cries.

I sit her up and lean her against me. "It's okay, now, everything is okay." I have to wonder, though. Is everything really okay?

"I don't think I'll ever be over these dreams."

"We'll get through them, Ally. I promise." And I meant it.

"I know. But I just wish they stopped now."

"How long have you been having these dreams?"

I feel her body go rigid. "Uh," she stammers. "Um, I don't know. Only a couple times."

"Als, you've always been the worst liar. How long," I ask sternly.

She sighs. "Every night since..." she trails off. She knows I know what she means.

I don't know what to say in response. I really don't. A part of me wants to get mad that she'd keep this from me. That she doesn't trust me enough to talk to me about things when she's upset. But another part of me – luckily, the smarter part – just wants to hold her for the rest of forever and tell her everything will be okay, and at the same time know that it will. I want to be able to know beyond a reasonable doubt that she will not be harmed anymore. But I can't know that. And it scares me.

The truth is, I've had a bad dream, very similar to Ally's, every night, too. The shooting part. Trent pulls a gun and shoots Ally, square in the stomach, before shooting me just below the heart. She falls in to me and I fall in to the wall, the two of us slowly crumpling to the floor like tin foil. There are no words in my vocabulary to explain how painful the whole situation was, seeing Ally get shot then actually being shot. I wake up every time we hit the floor as one. Every. Time. But I know that Ally would know what to say to me if I told her. Unlike me.

So I just squeeze her shoulders and kiss her head. I don't say anything, in fear of saying the wrong thing. And we sit there for who knows how long. She falls asleep on my arm, but doesn't have a bad dream again as far as I can tell.

Trish comes to the door and just looks at me, concern filling her eyes. I simply nod, indicating that everything was okay. She nods and turns back to the room.

I sit there for a little while and wonder why my life is the way it is; so blessed and so cursed at the exact same time.

ALLY'S POINT OF VIEW

"Say goodbye, Ally," Trent says, shooting me in the stomach. I close my eyes and writh in pain. But nothing can describe the feeling I get when he shoots Austin, too, and we both go down.