Airplanes

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The rest of the exam goes much like this, Ashton's reactions unnerving Michael when he insists he's fine and seems wholly unbothered.

Michael sits the chair up and Ashton goes to slide off, but Michael stops him with a hand on his arm. "Hang on a sec, okay? I sat you up because I wanted to show you something."

And Michael, realizing there's no slow–and–easy way to do this, brings the handpiece into Ashton's line of sight. The immediately tense expression on his face tells Michael more than he wants to know about the abuse he suffered.

"Ash, take it easy, all right? It's not the drill," Michael almost winces at the combined effect of the crude term and Ashton's jaw-clenched eyes-closed hard-swallow reaction to the word "drill".

Michael presses on. "There's no burr in. Just a soft rubber tip, yeah?"

Ashton doesn't respond. Desperate to get him to understand, Michael reaches out and takes Ashton's hand, meaning to touch his fingertip to the prophy cup attachment. Ashton jerks his hand away, fingers curled into a fist, and clutches it to his chest.

There's a moment of silence where Michael sets down the handpiece and glances to Luke before starting to sing. (Here's the bit where you play the handy-dandy video up top)

Most of my life

I sat on my hands, I don't make a sound

Getting it right

I made all my plans, lost, never found

Your eyes, your smile can light up the night, night

Embers and neon signs paint up our sky, sky

Airplanes cut through the clouds

Like angels can fly, we'll never die

Sirens cut through the night

Like screams that are fire, rising up high

Like I've something to prove, nothing to lose

In this city, in this city, oh

Woah

Oh! Oh!

All of this time

I questioned myself, I never could wait

Looking for signs

Not asking for help, I know it's too late

A love lost and buried here, it comes to life, life

Make believe worlds make us all feel alive, live

Airplanes cut through the clouds

Like angels can fly, we'll never die

Sirens cut through the night

Like screams that are fire, rising up high

Like I've something to prove, nothing to lose

In this city, in this city oh

I never wanna wait for this

Harder that I was made for this

I won't fade into dark

I'm not gonna say that I'm sorry

Gonna see the end of this story

I won't fade into darkness

Airplanes cut through the clouds

Like angels can fly, we'll never die

Sirens cut through the night

Like screams that are fire, rising up high

Like I've something to prove, nothing to lose

In this city, in this city oh

Woah

Oh! Oh!

Woah

Oh! Oh!

By the time Michael's done, Ashton's eyes are open. He's still white-knuckling the armrest and Grace's hand, but his eyes are open.

"Can I have your hand, Ash?"

Without a word, Ashton offers his hand. Michael takes his finger and the handpiece, pressing his fingertip to the prophy cup with only minimal resistance from Ashton.

"Feel that? It's soft and rubbery. But yeah, if I turn it on, it does sound a lot like it. So here's what we're going to do: you're going to hold Grace's hand and focus on the music and taking deep breaths. Raise your hand if you want me to stop,"

Ashton is trying to look like he's not scared out of his mind as Michael lays the chair back for what feels like the hundredth time.

Before he starts, Michael lays a hand on his shoulder. "Breathe, man. Just breathe."

Ashton nods and blinks a few times before opening his mouth. He flinches when Michael turns on the handpiece, starting to close.

"Easy, Ash, just stay open for me. I know it's scary,"

Ashton's face twists when Michael starts cleaning his teeth. Grace rubs her thumb along his knuckles, trying to soothe him. When that doesn't work, she tries to meet Michael's eyes, but he's focused entirely on Ashton.

"Michael?"

"Hmm?" he doesn't look up.

"Can I have a second to talk to Ash?"

This time he does look up. "Grace, I really gotta get this done—" he stops when Grace makes puppy dog eyes at him. "Dang, that runs in the family, doesn't it? Fine, all right." he sets down the handpiece and pushes away, allowing Grace to move closer.

She strokes up the sides of Ashton's neck, fingers trailing lazily around his ears. "You can do this, sweetie. I know you can. Michael isn't going to hurt you, I swear on my life. I'll be right here the whole time, I'm gonna hold your hand and help you keep calm, okay?"

The corners of Ashton's mouth twist down, but he nods. He flinches again when he hears the familiar noise of the handpiece, but holds steady. His head is pressed into the headrest hard enough that his neck is aching and his muscles are so tensed he's shaking.

Michael doesn't say anything for a few minutes, focusing on Ashton's teeth, until he sets down the handpiece. "All done, Ash. Great job."

Ashton wastes no time getting up and sitting down next to Calum, who's fallen asleep.

Grace lays down in the chair, which is still warm from Ashton's body heat.

Michael changes his gloves. "Open wide for me, sis."

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