Trigger warning- self-harm, suicidal thoughts, depression, and panic disorder. Enjoy.

"Aus. Austin, you need to calm down. We haven't even left yet- you can't have a panic attack, bro. Please, try to calm your breathing down."

I wince, as Austin stares at us, pure terror in his hazel gaze. We're about to leave for the meeting with his parents, and saying he's scared would be a gross understatement. The poor guy is as white as a sheet, trembling and shaking his head slightly. He looks petrified, and my heart breaks for him.

"Guys, go wait in the car. I'll calm him down," I mutter to my siblings. Rocky nods, and leads Ratliff and Rydel out the door, while I turn back to the pale boy sitting on the staircase. "Austin…they will not say anything directly to you. We'll fend off every single statement of defense they utter. You have nothing to be scared of. I promise- we'll keep you safe. I love you- you're my little brother- I wouldn't let any type of harm come to you- you know that."

"Don't make me go, don't make me face them," Austin whimpers.

"Hey, it's okay. I promise." My heart is breaking for him. He's sick- his fever has only gone up- it's at 101.7 right now, and the thought of facing his parents when he's in a medicated, hallucinated state is more than daunting.

"Here, I'll carry you," I whisper gently. He nods and holds his arms up like a toddler, which elicits a laugh from me. I can't help it- he just looks so damn cute. "You're not a little kid, this isn't gonna be easy…"

Austin whines, and I sigh, lifting him onto my hip. "You're a moron, but I love you anyway. Now, let's go."

I grab my wallet from the side table, and carry him out of the house, closing and locking the door on my way out. Carrying Austin isn't easy, but I manage to get him to the car- where I'm greeted with weird looks from all three of my siblings. I sigh, pulling open the back door, and placing Austin next to Ratliff. I slide in next to him, wrapping my arm around his shoulders to keep him upright, and shift his body, so his head is resting on my shoulder. "Go to sleep- I'll wake you when we get there."

"He's lethargic and dizzy. He's terrified, guys. He's not in his right mind- under the influence of medication, so he may not say the most intelligible things, or be able to process what's going on- and he's afraid his parents will call him out. He's fucking traumatized, guys. It's horrid."

"They won't," Rocky says heavily. "I'm not going to let them. They've put that boy through fucking hell, and I feel so damn bad that no one noticed sooner. He's probably been screaming in silence for so fucking long- and no one has heard him. That's what brought on the mentality that no one cares about him- no one asked if he was okay, no one thought to ask him why he looked so depressed, nothing. They just left him to rot, and now we're left with the broken pieces of a once very happy-go-lucky, fun-loving Austin Moon…"

"I don't wanna do this! It's gonna hurt, and you don't know what they've done to me! Please!"

"Hey," Rocky murmurs. "We don't know, but all you have to do is tell the judge. All you have to do is tell him whatever fucking bullcrap they've given you, and the judge will grant us custody. It's going to be okay, Austin." He leans down to hug me gently, and I sigh.

"Promise you won't let them talk directly to me?" I ask, looking up at them fearfully. I sound pathetic- but my parents- specifically my father- can be fucking terrifying when he wants to be. When he yells, it sparks something inside me, and I know I'll have a panic attack not before too long.

"Promise you," Riker swears. He lays his palm on my forehead, sighing. "You're burning up, dammit."

"Rydel and I packed medicine and stuff for him," Ratliff says. "If he needs something, we can grab it from the car. We've got Tylenol, cough medicine, a heating pad, and cold water bottles with washcloths. We came prepared." He smirks at us, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"That's awesome- thank you guys," Rocky murmurs. "How do you feel, Austin?"

I don't know if I should be honest with him- in reality, everything hurts, and I feel like utter crap. I'm in no mood to see them again, and I would just fucking love to slit my wrist down the middle, so I could bleed out, and get away from all this bullshit. I fucking hate life, and the sickness is hurting me even more. "My head is pounding, I'm hot, and my muscles ache…"

"Your stomach doesn't hurt?" I shake my head. "No nausea?" Another shake of my head, and Rocky sighs.

"That's good- for now, at least. If you feel nauseous at all, let one of us know," Riker warns. "We don't want you getting sick, okay? That'll just make you feel even crappier, and it's just not fun."

"I will," I whisper. Riker nods, helping me out of the car. Ratliff glances at his watch, sighing.

"We still have five minutes," He mutters, unlocking his phone, and tapping through a few screens, before sighing and sliding his phone back in his pocket. He glances at me with no emotion in his eyes, which seems to confuse me. Ratliff always wears his emotions/feelings on his sleeve. "Come here, Austin."

I walk into his arms, and Ratliff hugs me tightly, kissing the top of my head. "We won't let them hurt you."

"I know," I sigh. "But this is gonna bring back so many old memories that I'm not ready for…but guys, if I get emotional, please…calm me down? Because otherwise, my mind goes straight to the blade…and I'll probably cut when we get home."

We're lead into a room at the back of the courthouse, and told to sit on one side. Ratliff and Rydel sit first, then Austin, me, and then Rocky. We want to surround Austin- forming protective sides, so he doesn't get freaked out. He can't panic- it'll turn everything bad.

The doors swing open, and my attention is drawn to them. Mike and Mimi Moon stride into the room, shooting glares at their son, who whimpers in fear, and presses himself as close to me as possible. I sigh, murmuring comfort in his ear. Leaning over to kiss his forehead, another breath escapes me, as the judge follows them in.

They take their seats, and the judge seats himself at the table in front of us. I can feel Austin's breathing get heavier, and I wince. "You can't hyperventilate, bro. It's okay- you need to calm down. They are not going to hurt you."

"Alright. This meeting is to discuss the reasons you- Rocky Lynch- would like to take custody of Austin Monica Moon- from his parents- Mimi Moon and Mike Moon." The judge's words are crisp with authority, and he first looks at us- then at Austin's parents- his eyes showing no emotion.

"We will begin with a statement from Rocky Lynch. Why do you want to take custody of Austin?"

Rocky takes a deep breath, and rises to his feet. "Your honor- I would like to be granted custody of Austin Moon- because his parents have been emotionally abusing him for years now- I've seen it in action, and it truly disgusts me. Austin is not nearly mentally stable- and it is a consequence of his parents' words and actions- over the years."

"Explicate."

"Gladly," Rocky says smoothly. "Austin has been self-harming- cutting his wrists- for quite some time now- as a result of the incessant pressure his parents have put on him. They are relentless with his studies- he has tried to explain to them that he is teetering on the edge of committing suicide- but they refuse to listen. His voice is never heard in their household- they only aspect of his life his parents care about- are his grades. He's struggling in school- and his parents have blatantly refused to get him a tutor, or any kind of help that could significantly increase his performance. Child neglect is a very serious issue- and he has been the victim of it for most of his life."

"I will need proof of his self-harm."

Rocky nods, and turns to us. "Austin, can you come out here? He just needs to see your arms, okay?"

Austin looks quite terrified- but he complies, sliding past me, and out to where Rocky is. Rocky smiles at him, and leads him up to the judge's table.

Austin pulls his sleeves up- revealing his scarred, mangled arms to the judge. The older man's eyes widen slightly at the sight- and I hold back a wince- Austin's arms are not the prettiest sight- he's gotten so bad recently.

"Austin- would you say these cuts are from your parents? Is it their fault that you have resorted to such extremes- for reprieve?"

Austin nods shakily. "Y-Yeah. They keep yelling at me, and I just can't take it. I have panic attacks a lot- yelling is the biggest trigger of them- I've tried to tell my parents, but they don't care. They yell at me, then leave me to have a panic attack and attempt not to pass out- it's terrifying, and so painful. My singing career is something I love- it's something I've worked hard for, and something I'm good at- but they have no respect for that. I love to sing- it used to take all the pain away, but because of all the pressure, I haven't had the time- and I've had to resort to self-harm, instead."

"Alright- that's fine- you can go sit down, Austin."

Austin stumbles back over to us, and I catch him gently, sitting him down, and kissing his forehead.

"Rocky, you may sit. Mike and Mimi Moon, your statement."

Rocky nods, and walks back over, sliding in next to Austin. "You did so well," he praises, kissing Austin's cheek.

"So did you," Austin whispers hoarsely.

"Our son- Austin Moon- has always shown his rebel personality. His decisions to go against our wishes and become a popstar rank number one on the list. He has always been defiant- refusing to listen to our decrees- having a mind of his own. Those scars on his arms have never once been brought up- we had no idea. Given the circumstances- that was probably done so he would have a stronger argument- we don't believe they are genuine- he is not depressed- he has everything he could ever want- including fame- so what is there to be depressed about? In our eyes, this is a lie."

Austin tenses. "They don't believe me! They're gonna get custody!"

"Shhh," Rocky murmurs. "I've got you- I still have a lot more arguments to use against them- to prove that you are in fact, depressed. And I have witnesses. This is not over."

"Rocky, your defense?"

Rocky stands, and walks closer to the table. "You say he is lying- I want you to take a good, long, hard look at him. Notice his pale complexion, the incessant trembling- how close he's pressed to my younger brother. Another point I would like to make- Austin is sick. He has a fever of around 101 at the moment- and it is due to exhaustion. The exhaustion was brought on by his parents' refusal to allow him rest- because his schoolwork wasn't completed."

"Do you have anything that can prove this?"

"We have a thermometer- we can take his temperature right now, if it is permitted."

The judge nods. "You may."

Rocky turns and comes back over, pulling the desired device from his pocket. He slides it into Austin's mouth and gives him a reassuring smile, waiting for the beep. When the medical instrument does beep- it breaks the monotone silence that as fallen over the room.

"102.1," Rocky reads. "As you can see- he is obviously quite ill- lack of sleep or proper nutrition have brought this on- both a result of his parents' neglect. The lack of rest has weakened his immune system- allowing for harmful bacteria to enter- causing havoc in his body."

"And how long has he been sick for?"

"Over a week- he was struck by this about a day- probably less- after we found him."

"You say you found him- explain that."

Rocky steals a glance at me, and I nod slightly, giving him permission to tell the story. "My brother- Riker- found him in a park, a little less than two weeks ago. He was sitting under a tree- with a razor blade to his wrist. At first- he didn't respond to anything Riker said- but when my brother showed Austin his own arms- Riker is a recovering self-harmer as well- Austin opened up slightly. Later- we learned that Austin would have killed himself that day- if it weren't for Riker's interference. The daunting factor of his parents yelling at him for failing a test- one that he did his best on and studied for- was too much for him to handle."

"Proof of this. Riker Lynch, come on up."

I squeeze Austin's hand gently, before rising to my feet, and joining Rocky at the table.

"Is what your brother has said- completely true?"

"Down to the last word," I say firmly. "When I found Austin- he looked like he would fall apart- if I hugged him. He looked thin, pale, and emotionally wrecked. I brought him back to our house, and we took care of him for that night- he had a panic attack, which we calmed him down from."

"Defense."

Austin's father rises to his feet. "We only want the best for our son- and we are willing to do anything for him to get that. He failed because he didn't try, because he was lazy. If he had tried harder- he would have done better- how is he going to get into a good college, with the grades he has now?"

The judge stares at him. "And you mean to tell me you care more about your son's college career- which is over two years away- when Rocky has just informed us that he would've committed suicide less than two weeks ago- in fear of your wrath and anger?"

Mike shrugs. "We can always have another child. Austin has grown up to be a disappointment- his death would have no impact on our family."

The judge looks purely shocked and disgusted. "There is no need for me to even consider this. Rocky Lynch, I am granting you full custody rights of Austin Monica Moon- until he turns eighteen. You will be responsible for feeding, clothing, and sheltering him- until he graduates from high school. Mike and Mimi Moon- your rights as parents to Austin have been revoked- he is under no obligation to listen to anything you have to say- and you have lost the right to tell him what he can and cannot do."

Thoughts? As you can blatantly tell- I have absolutely no knowledge of how a situation like this would go. I'd love to know what you thought- how well I did, etc. Reviews would make me happy, and they'd get you the new chapter faster :)

-Neha