Here to Stay || Ashton Irwin (completed)

Chapter 9

Two days after the trip to Washington, we ended up in the ICU and by we I meant, Ashton, his parents and I, of course. After the exchange in the coffee shop, I had quickly changed the subject out of complete fear. I would not allow myself to feel that way, how could I be that selfish? Despite the relief flooding my heart, I desperately tried to push down any mutual emotions and just focus on spending time with him. Between that and the hurt look on Ashton's face when I rapidly began talking about what we'd do next after lunch, I couldn't decide which hurt me more. After a significantly awkward cup of coffee and snacks, we had gathered ourselves and decided to hit all the major landmarks and monuments of DC. We stopped at the Lincoln Memorial, the Washington Monument and by the time we made it to the Capitol building, the tension had thinned to it's core and it was almost as normal as we had always been. After having dinner in a less history oriented part of town, we headed back to the train station. The train ride was long, yes, and I eventually fell asleep after much difficulty, however, as soon as Ashton's hand slipped into my own and I was able to fall into a peaceful slumber. 

After that, everything had gone well. Ashton and I returned to our normal selves without mentioning the confession from the coffee shop again. I had put it behind me while my true feelings danced in front of my face, refusing to leave me alone, but I knew that telling him my honest thoughts would destroy us both. I had to suppress and move on and just accept what could physically never be. However, Ashton seemed to be doing exactly what I had in mind because within the past few days we continued to sleep on his bed together and watch movies and joke around and hold hands and everything was the least bit awkward it could possibly be. Sure I had a few moments where I found myself staring at him, imagining what his lips would feel like pressed against mine or how it would feel to be physically close to him, but more times than none, I realized my train of thought and cleared the thoughts from my mind. 

What landed us in the intensive care unit was terrifying. We had been watch a movie together, as we always had when Ashton cut school, which was becoming so frequent, his teachers emailed work daily just incase. Anyway, we had been sitting on his bed, watching Anchorman for the hundredth thousandth time and he suddenly brought his hand up to his head. Worriedly, I had asked him if he was okay to which he nodded and returned to watching the film, but no more than a minute later his head fell. At first, I had believed that he was just resting his head in his hands but after I nudged his hand and he fell forward onto the ground is when I knew something was wrong. Panicked I had rushed down to the kitchen where I knew his mom was cooking dinner and tried to get her attention. I yelled and willed myself to get heard, hoping something could break through the barrier and notify her that her son had collapsed. With no luck using my voice, I decided to use something else to grab her attention. I rushed back up the stairs and into the library, grabbing a stack of books and bringing them out to Ashton's room's door frame. 

Raising one of the books high above my head, I threw it down onto the ground. The food processor in the kitchen abruptly stopped and I heard his mom approach the foyer below, "Ashton? Sweetie are you okay?" She asked worriedly. When no response came, she began to turn away, so to stop her, I brought down another. "Ashton?" She tried again. Instead of letting the silence sink in I started dropping all the books at once. From somewhere below, I heard a gasp followed by heavy footsteps climbing the stairs followed by gasps for air, "Ashton?" She called again, speeding up. She ran nearly right through me, leaving my body all weird and disoriented. 

I heard her scream before I even stepped into the room. By the time I was there, she had already scooped him up and pulled out her cellphone. 911 was on the receiver in seconds. She cried into the phone, desperately trying to keep her composure under control but miserably failing nonetheless. I watched on in horror as Ashton's eyes rolled back into his head, disappearing under his lids. His mom carried him to his bed and laid him down carefully as if one wrong move would cause him to shatter into tiny pieces. As she ran out of the room the answer the door for the medics relentlessly knocking on it, I ran to his bedside. I carefully reached my hand out over his shoulder, terrified that if I didn't pass through, it would only mean he was getting worse. I held my breath as my hand moved closer. Beneath his eyelids I could see his eyes moving. Occasionally they would randomly stop and remain in a still state until they'd spring into action once again. After tearing my gaze from what would be his green eyes, my hand continued to crawl towards his upper shoulder. With one final breath I brought my hand down. What I was greeted with was weird, I couldn't touch his body but I could feel his heartbeat beating rapidly around my fingers. Immediately, I pulled my hand back into my chest trying to make sense of what had just happened.