Part 4/4
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Requested by:
anonymous
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I'm in the caaaaaar
Next chapter is: "You Have Cancer"
Michael:
"Are you done yet?" You looked up from your phone and up where your brother was sifting through the back of the moving van.
"One more time," Michael stuck his head out from behind a stack of boxes for only a moment before crouching back and rummaging through.
"Ughhhhh," a loud thump was heard as Calum hit his head against the back of the trailer.
"This is your fifth time," Ashton groaned. He was perched on a stool that he had dragged out of the house on Michael's third time through the truck.
"Honestly, Y/N is only moving like forty-five minutes away, she can come back if she left anything," Luke stuck his head out of the passengers seat. You were a little surprised since you had assumed that he was taking a nap.
"I will personally drive it up to her," Calum corroborated, "let's just go NOW!"
"Please Michael, this is ridiculous, it's been two hours," you climbed up into the trailer, "what are you even doing back here?"
"Organizing, double-checking, I just- I just," he said frantically, moving through the narrow spaces between your boxes of stuff.
You see, you were finally getting ready to move out. You had a nice job, it didn't pay great, but it was enough for a modest apartment and your used car. You were just ready to grow up. You had been living with Michael all the way through high school and college, which was fine, but you needed to make your own way, and this was step one. Your brother on the other hand, was suffering empty-nest syndrome. You'd think a man in his twenties would be happy when his little sister finally got out of his hair, but not your brother. Michael had not at all been looking forward to you leaving. He was convinced that you'd be injured, starving, or otherwise negatively impacted by living alone. You almost wondered if those were his own fears he was projecting, but you didn't say that to him.
"Not double checking," Ashton began to correct him, "this is your fifth time through."
"What is that? Penta-checking?" You called out from still inside the trailer.
"That doesn't really sound right, but I also have no idea soooo," you could hear the shrug in Luke's voice.
"PLEASE?" Calum screeched, clearly fed up.
"Yeah, we can go," you grabbed Michael, who was rifling through your socks and mumbling about needing at least fifteen matching pairs.
"NO! I'M NOT DONE!" He cried, trying to grab a box but only succeeding in toppling it over.
"Yes you are, I'll be fine Michael," you jumped down and motioned for him to do the same.
"But-" he looked back longingly.
"PLEASE?!" Calum screamed again.
"Fine," he grumbled, climbing down so you could pull the handle, shutting and latching the back of the trailer securely.
"Oh thank God," Calum sighed in relief as he was tossed the keys to the moving van. The plan was for him and Luke to drive your stuff down in the trailer, while you, Michael, and Ashton would stop and get groceries on the way there. That way you'd have a fully-stocked apartment ready for you by the end of the day.
Ashton got up, just leaving his stool in the middle of the driveway, not that anyone cared at this point. You were mentally assembling a grocery list, Michael was wringing his hands and mumbling to himself, Calum was starting the moving van, and Luke was buckling himself in.
While the three of you were climbing into your own car, Calum backed the van out of the driveway. He waved to you on his way by, and when the van was on the road you heard Luke yell.
"SEE YOU SUCKERS LATER!" Then Calum sped off at a probably illegal speed.
"Oh great," you rolled your eyes, "all my stuff will be crushed by the time it gets there."
"No it won't," Michael walked over to stand beside you, "I wrapped everything remotely breakable in bubble wrap."
"Oh," you let some of the tension out of your shoulders.
"Do you have any extra?!" Ashton asked excitedly.
You snorted, but your brother nodded and stalked off. The two of you watched as he disappeared into the garage.
"You know he's only being a perfectionist because he's scared right?" Ashton asked once Michael was out of earshot.
"I know," you nodded. Even if he was kind of a pain, you knew that he had only the best intentions at heart, so you couldn't fault him.
"And that he's basically acting like a helicopter mother who's baby is all grown up," Ashton added, watching as Michael came out of the garage with a whole roll of bubble wrap.
"I can tell," you said dryly, "at least we aren't at the point where he's trying to wrap me in bubble wrap."
"Yeah, that'd be a waste of very entertaining bubble wrap," Ashton giggled, taking the roll from Michael as soon as he was in reach.
"Can I drive?" He asked, shifting on his feet.
"Yeah sure," you tossed him the keys and climbed in the back with Ashton.
Pop, pop, pop pop. He had already started to unroll and pop the bubble wrap. Every time one of the little plastic air pockets let out a satisfying pop he'd giggle for a minute and then move on to the next one.
"Scooch over," you climbed in, moving the piece of bubble wrap draped over your seat so that you could sit, you plopped yourself down and buckled in. Once you were secure, you picked the bubble wrap back up and started popping it with Ashton.
Michael moved slower, he rounded the front of the car to the drivers seat, and got in slowly. He sat down and buckled himself in, checking his mirrors carefully after he shut the door. You saw his eyes linger on you and Ashton giggling in the back.
He did it a lot throughout the drive, you didn't know whether it was creepy or endearing, but since he looked sad, you knew that it was the latter.
You finally decided to address it, " Mikey, everything okay up there?"
"Yup," his eyes flickered back to the road automatically. His tone however was higher-pitched than normal, something you and Ashton both noticed.
The bubble wrap was, temporarily, abandoned. "Really? We have lots of time to talk in here," Ashton pressed.
"I'm fine really," Michael promised.
"Are you really really fine? You don't want a car support group?" You offered him.
"No," his voice cracked. You both looked at him knowingly until he gave in, "yes."
"Pull over," Ashton ordered. Michael pulled off to the side of the road as he was asked, you knew that he was close to tears and that the extra water in his eyes would cloud his vision. "Get out," Ashton said as he opened his own door. The two boys switched spots so that Ashton was now driving and Michael was sitting next to you.
"So, how are you really doing?" You took both of his hands in yours.
"Not fine!" He wailed. His hands pulled away from yours only to wrap back around your shoulders.
Your arms found their way around your brother's midsection to his back where they rubbed up and down soothingly.
"It's okay Michael, why don't you tell me how you feel," you said soothingly.
"I'm so sad you're leaving me!" He sobbed, "I know that you have to go but I just- I just- I DON'T WANNA BE ALOOOOONE!"
You chuckled a little, and Ashton harrumphed from the front seat. "What am I chopped liver?" He grumbled.
"No," Michael pulled back from you and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, "you're just not Y/N."
"I'll still be around, really close, you can come over Mikey," you promised.
"I know, I just need time to adjust," he sniffled, "thank you, I feel a bit better now."
"Well that's good because we're here," Ashton announced, turning into the store parking-lot.
In the time that you had been preoccupied with Michael, neither of you had noticed that you had arrived at the store.
"Alrighty boys," you got out of the car, "we need food, pots, pans, silverware, glasses, uh, yeah pretty much an entire kitchen," you sighed and rubbed your face as you realized that you were starting pretty much from scratch.
"Well I say we start with the fun stuff first, ya know, the items of the non-edible variety," Ashton said as he got out of the car. You watched as he grabbed the abandoned grocery cart from the parking space next to the one you occupied.
Michael asked the inevitable followup question, "what makes non-edible groceries more fun?"
The three of you were silent for a few moments while Ashton thought. The time was also used to start walking up to, and inside the busy store.
"Well I'd say that I buy food all the time, but I rarely buy plates, just seems like an adventure," he eventually said.
"I guess that I can see your point," you nodded as Ashton began to lead you toward the utensils aisle.
"I dunno," Michael smacked his lips, "just because you do it less often doesn't make it more fun, I have to go to the doctor yearly and it's, wow, unpleasant. Plus you can't eat plates."
"I see your point, I just think that it's fun I guess," Ashton defended himself just as the three of you entered the lovely section of kitchen items.
"What do you think Michael?" You and your brother were drawn over to the display of nonstick pans. You didn't pay attention as Ashton disappeared to somewhere else further down.
"Hmmmm," your brother picked up the one you had been looking at for a closer inspection. He held it by the handle and spun it around a few times, then he held it straight back from his eye to check and see if it was straight, and he examined the nonstick coating to make sure that it wasn't flaking or chipped anywhere. When he was finally done he began to address you with his conclusion, "well I'd say that-"
"I FOUND YOU THE PAN YOU'VE BEEN LOOKING FOR!" Ashton said excitedly. You both looked over to see the curly haired boy brandishing an old-fashioned cast iron pan.
"I dunno, you have to be careful with those," you frowned and looked back over to your dishwasher-safe alternative.
"No no no," Michael also didn't look happy, "this is the twenty-first century and Y/N doesn't cook over a fire."
"What? What's not to like about this thing?" He waltzed over and held up his choice proudly. "First of all its a timeless classic, you can't say that it doesn't work well when people have been using these babies for generations. Also, it's a statement piece, totally lets people know that you're in tune with your roots, PLUS it triples as a weapon," Ashton held up the pan like a baseball bat and pretended to swing it at Michael.
"It's too heavy to be a good weapon," Michael dismissed him, pushing the heavy thing away from his face.
"Really? Have you ever watched Tangled? I mean if Rapunzel can do it so can you, plus let's be real here, if you can use a pan as a weapon Y/N definitely can," Ashton said.
"Oooooh," you made burn noises as your brother's face turned red.
"Here, I'll demonstrate," Ashton cleared his throat and adjusted his gripping on the handle of the pan a few times.
Michael looked at him uneasily, "what do you me-"
But he didn't get to finish as Ashton made his move, "BAM! Straight in the pan!" He swung it around so that Michael's face was inside of, but hadn't been smashed by, the cast iron skillet.
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Needless to say, after the three of you were on your way to the apartment your trunk had been loaded. In your trunk there were plates, cups, utensils, pans, and a cast iron pan tucked safely inside.
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*for a full list of the upcoming requests please refer to my, Everything I'm Working On, book as it is too long to put here*