The Dead and The Blind [Lashton]

Day 980

It's been a month since their conversation, and Luke's never been more proud. He stands in the yard and watches Ashton throw punch after punch to Calum's hands. He loos exhausted and bored, but at least he's trying. As soon as Calum tells him he can stop, Ashton falls forward and faceplants in the grass, groaning softly in pain.

“I don't like this,” Ashton complains.

Luke rolls his eyes as he crosses over to them, water bottle in hand. “You don't like anything. Get up, I got you some water.”

“A saint,” Ashton says sarcastically, but he sits up, anyway, and snatches the bottle away. When he finishes drinking half of it, Luke pulls him back into a standing position and brushes dirt off his chest and face.

“Look at you,” Luke raises his eyebrows as he squishes Ashton's biceps, earning a groan of pain out of him. Luke should tell him to shut up if his muscles didn't feel half as sore as Ashton's do. “Look at these arms, Ash! You'll be beating me up in no time.”

“Good,” Ashton replies under his breath.

Luke smiles at him fondly, while Calum pulls off his gloves. “Tomorrow you and Luke can go for a ten mile run instead of a five, and I'll go easier on you with the rest of your workout.”

Ashton groans miserably and collapses onto the ground in a heap again. “Please, no.”

“Come on, Ash, you've got to be able to defend yourself,” Luke grabs his arms and attempts to pull him up, but Ashton falls completely limp and refuses to move.

“No I don't,” he whines. “You can just protect me the rest of my life.” Luke shares a look with Calum, before they both look back down at Ashton, who frowns. “What? Why can't you?”

“I have to pass on,” Luke explains. “Let's- come on, we can talk about it inside.” Ashton scowls, but allows them to drag him upstairs and into his room, where Michael's already laying in his bed, flickering his molecules like Luke had taught him. He disappears completely for a second before coming back, halfway transparent. When he notices them, he makes himself solid and completely visible, and then beams at them.

“Look, look,” he enthuses. He holds up his hands and focuses on the corner of the room. His own body appears, dangling from a thick rope tied to the ceiling, chair knocked over beneath him. The image flickers and eventually burns out, leaving Michael shaking his hands. Luke flinches and ducks down to sit next to him on the bed.

“Cool,” Calum flops happily onto the edge of the bed, then tugs Ashton down next to him. “You just leveled up to a level three ghost.”

“Yay,” Michael smiles and claps his hands happily for a second, before looking over at Ashton. “How was working out?”

“I hope Calum dies,” Ashton mutters. He pauses, scowls even more, and grinds out, “Again. Now, come on, why can't Luke protect me forever?”

“Because I'm dead, Ashton,” Luke stresses, like that should explain it to someone who knows nothing about ghosts. Ashton stares at him boredly, with a duh look on his face before Luke sighs. “I'm dead and I don't want to spend an eternity here. I can't.”

“You can stay with me,” Ashton reasons softly and, for the first time, Luke finds cracks of vulnerability in his rough, angry exterior. He sees Ashton's eyes get wide with something like pain, but doesn't feel any emotions rising in his own chest to match. “You- you can stay here with me forever.” Ashton says softly.

Luke shakes his head. “I can't. You're going to get older and move out, and I don't want to go with you. If I have to forever somewhere- which I don't- I want it to be here with my best friends in my home, not out with you. I can't follow you forever, Ash, it's- it'll be unhealthy and you won't have any friends and you'll be held back by me.”