5SOS one shots (boys x Reader)


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15. Argument pt 2

The minutes that tick by feel like hours, and the boy with unruly hair sticking up in different directions and bags under his eyes – he’s still there. He hasn’t moved from his spot on the floor, slumped against the wall with one legs stretched out in front of him and the other bent at the knee, an arm resting on the bent knee as he buries his face in his large hands.   

 

“It’s my fault," he says to himself, "It’s all my fucking fault. I brought this on her, I brought this on her parents, I brought this on her best friend. I brought this on myself. My fault.”

 

And he’s not talking out loud, so no one knows what he’s thinking. No one knows how much he hates himself for saying what he’d said. No one knows how much he’s wishing and wishing he could turn back time, to stop her from leaving, to stop himself from acting like a right dick. Ashton was having a bad day, that day, and he took it out on her. Y/N didn’t do jack shit to him and yet, he took his anger out on her and now look at what’s happened.   

 

Ashton lifts his head from his hands, eyes darting over to everyone else. His mum’s hugging Y/N’s mother, comforting her. Y/N’s father is sitting in the plastic chair, elbows propped up on his knees with fingers interlocked with each other, resting on his forehead as his mouth moves in silent prayer. Y/N’s best friend is on the floor, too, next to him and she’s got silent tears trickling down her face. The boys – they’re on the other side of Ashton, all three of them sitting the same way he is and all either rubbing at their temples or doing what Y/N’s father is doing, silently praying that Y/N will be okay.   

 

The door to the room that Y/N’s in open and Ashton’s the first to get to his feet, walk over to him, eyes wide as he looks at the doctor. Y/N's parents are hot on his heels.   

 

“She’s fine,” the doctor says and it’s like a collective sigh escapes each of their mouths. “She was waking up – before she flat-lined, – ”   

 

“Don’t fucking say that,” Ashton interrupts, his voice laced with venom as he practically spits the words in the doctor’s face. And Luke’s worried that Ashton’s about to attack the doctor for just saying that she’d flat-lined, that he wraps his hand around the elder’s bicep, pulling him back.    

 

“Right, sorry,” the doctor nods apologetically. “She was waking up,earlier,”he says instead, eyes darting to Ashton only to go back to Y/N’s parents as he continues talking, “But something happened and she went into cardiac arrest. We managed to restart her heart, and she woke up for a few seconds before falling back in, I’m sorry.”   

 

“But is she going to be okay?” Y/N’s father asks, and his voice is shaky – like he’s terrified of the answer. He probably is. Ashton is beyond terrified.   

 

“Yes, she’ll be okay,” the doctor nods and again, they all seem to sigh and let out ‘thank God’s’ at the same time. “Can I talk to you in private?” He asks Y/N's parents, and they nod before starting to follow him, Y/N’s mother wrapping an arm around Ashton’s waist to bring him along.   

 

The doctor turns, blinking with furrowed brows as he notices that Ashton’s walking with them. “Is he family?”   

 

“I’m her boyfriend,” Ashton says easily, eyes narrowing in challenge towards the doctor.   

 

“I’m sorry, son, but it's family – ”   

 

“He is family,” Y/N’s mother interrupts, shaking her head at the doctor. “Just tell us what it is you have to say.”   

 

The doctor nods, “Very well,” he says. “As I was saying, she will be okay. She will, eventually, wake up from the coma but we aren’t sure how long it’ll take. The longest we’re expecting is one month, and the earliest could even be tomorrow – ” and Ashton would smile at the idea of Y/N waking up tomorrow but he doesn’t. "But there might be some complications – "   

 

And the doctor continues talking, and Ashton should be listening but he can’t concentrate, because he’s so happy. He should be listening to what these complications are but he can’t because he’s concentrating so hard on trying to concentrate that he’s not absorbing a single word that the doctor’s saying. Ashton's happy – for the first time since their fight – because she’s going to be okay. His mind’s so preoccupied with that thought that he can’t focus on anything else. So when Y/N’s mother just pulls him into a hug, he assumes it’s because she’s happy, too, so he hugs her back, whispering in her ear, “She’s going to be okay,” because she is. God dammit, Y/N is going to be okay. She has to be okay. 

 

 —   

 

“Mate,” Michael starts and his voice is nervous, making Ashton look up from where he’d just been gazing at Y/N like she’s the most beautiful human being he’s ever seen. She is the most beautiful human being he’s ever seen.    

 

Ashton hums, raising an eyebrow at the green-haired younger.    

 

“I know you don’t want to think about this right now but we have a tour –”   

 

“I’m not leaving,” Ashton interrupts, turning back to look at Y/N. “I’m not leaving her.”   

 

“We know, Ash,” Luke speaks next and Ashton looks up again to see that the other two are standing in the doorway, flanking either side of Michael. “We’re not going to make you leave, we get it,” he says earnestly and Ashton’s lips are curling up into the tiniest of smiles as he diverts his gaze back to Y/N. 

 

“We’ve told the 1D boys that we’ve got some personal stuff we have to take care of. Said we’ll be gone for at least two weeks, and they’re okay with that,” Calum chimes in.   

 

“But we still need to tell the fans,” Luke speaks again.   

 

Ashton lifts a hand to brush a lock of her away from her face, “I’m not telling them about what’s happened to her. As much as I love the fans, this is my fucking personal life and they don’t need to know this.”   

 

Michael shuffles forward, taking a seat in the other plastic chair, on the other side of Y/N’s bed. He picks up her hand, also gazing at her. She’d always been good friends with them. She’d been there for their shows with twelve people, and she’d been there for their shows with thousands of people. Y/N meant almost as much to the other three boys as she did to Ashton.    

 

“We’re not telling them,” he assures the elder. “We just thought we’d do a video or something. Tell them that we’re not going to be opening for 1D for two weeks, maybe more, and that we’re sorry. They deserve that much.”   

 

“Yeah,” Ashton eventually sighs, “Yeah, they do,” he says, slowly getting to his feet and leaning over her so that he can press his lips to her forehead in the most tender kiss possible, before he's – very reluctantly – letting go of their hands. “Come on. Let’s get this over and done with. I don’t want to leave her for long.”   

 

—   

 

“– And we're really sorry about this,” Luke says, smiling apologetically at the iPhone that Ashton’s mum is holding, pointing towards them.   

 

“Yeah, we wish we could play all of the shows but we’ve got some shit going on in our lives and yeah,” Michael adds in.   

 

“We’ll be back before you know it!” Calum grins, or at least tries to. It’s painfully fake, his grin.    

 

They all turn to look at Ashton then. He’s been quiet the entire minute long video and he’s normally the one who’s always talking. His face is void of emotion and he’s just fiddling with his hands that are clasped together, in front of him. “Um, yeah, we love you,” he manages to say after he’s cleared his throat and sure that his voice isn’t too thick and sounding like he’s about to start bawling, because he’s pretty sure that he’s about to start bawling.   

 

And when Ashton’s mum lowers the iPhone, having ended the video, Ashton is practically sprinting back into the hospital, straight back into her room because if he misses her waking up, even if it’s just for a second, he’ll never know what to do with himself because he’d give anything just to see her eyes looking back at him one more time.   

 

—   

 

It’s twelve days later and Ashton has practically made a home in the hospital room that Y/N’s staying in. The nurses took pity on him, and they probably admired him for being so determined to always be by her side, and they got him one of those comfortable, large, leather chairs that doesn’t give him back pains when he wakes up from the occasional nap that he unintentionally takes.    

 

His mum and Y/N’s parents have had to practically force him to get a shower, to eat something, to drink something, to get some proper sleep. He usually refuses, until one of them bring up the excuse 'Y/N wouldn’t want to see you like this. She’d want you to eat’ and Ashton would cave in because they’re right. She’d probably yell at him if she knew that he wasn’t eating or sleeping or showering. 

 

Ashton’s alone in her room now, and it’s about five in the evening. Her parents have gone to the cafeteria to get something to eat, with promises of bringing him back something. He’d refuse but he knows better than to argue with them about this anymore. His hand is holding hers, fingers slid in between hers, and his legs are propped up on her bed though his bum’s still in his chair.    

 

“They say that you might be able to hear me if I talk to you while you’re… like this. But, I mean, my main concern’s, like, can you smell me? Because I didn’t shower for three days, I think, and I must’ve smelled awful. Way worse than after I play a show, probably. And when I play a show, I’m sweating like a pig. Honestly. You know what I look like after a show. Like… I didn’t even know people sweated that much? Why do I even sweat so much? It’s gross,” he pulls a face at her, and he waits. 

 

Still no reaction.    

 

Ashton sighs, “Please wake up,” he whispers, leaning forward a bit. “Please move your hand, or just, do something. Let me know that you’re still in there. That I’ll always have you, because I am so sorry. I don’t know why I said those things, Y/N. Well, I do know. I just… I’m a terrible person. That’s why. And I take advantage of the fact that you’ve been here for over three and a half years that – wait,” he pauses, pressing on the home button of his iPhone on the bedside table and he lets out a single, breathy laugh.   

 

“You’ve been here with me for four years and I just took that for granted, thinking that you wouldn’t leave,” he sighs. “Happy anniversary, by the way. Don’t know how you’ve put up with me for four years. Don’t know how I've put up with you for four years,” Ashton jokes, hoping that maybe he’ll get a reaction. 

 

There’s still nothing.   

 

“I'm sorry, Y/N, I’m so sorry,” Ashton’s voice is no higher than a whisper and as he speaks, traitorous tears drip out of the corners of his eyes and they race down his cheek, landing on his jeans. He ducks his head down, bringing her hand to his mouth, lips fixing themselves to the back of her hand, “I’m so sorry. Please come back to me. I can’t live without you, don’t you see? You're it for me, I don’t want anyone else. I don’t need anyone else. Wake up, Y/N. Please.”   

 

And this time, it’s not just a little twitch. She legitimately pulls 

her hand away from him (or at least, tries to), tugging at it because he’s probably squeezing her hand so hard that it’s hurting her. He’ll feel bad about hurting her hand in a minute but for now, he’s more preoccupied with the fact that she’s awake, and she’s moving, and she’s okay. 

 

A little groan leaves her throat and Ashton’s squeezing at her hand again, though not at tightly as before. More tears stream down his face, his lips curling up at the corners into a smile.   

 

“Oh my God, you’re okay, you’re okay," Ashton manages to splutter out, the hand that’s not tightly entwined with her previously limp one going to cup her face tenderly. "I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he repeats over and over, caressing her face so gently – like if he’d applied the slightest bit of pressure to her skin, she'd shatter in his hands.   

 

“Ashton?” Y/N croaks out, her voice hoarse, tinged with confusion and her eyes flutter open ever-so-softly with some difficulty, due to the dried skin that's accumulated over the days.   

 

“It’s me, baby, it’s me,” he nods, sniffling as more tears leak out of the corner of his eyes and for the first time in over a week, they’re happy tears. “I’m sorry, baby, fucking hell I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean anything I said, you know that, right? You know that, right?” He repeats, the hand that’s brushing her hair out of her face cupping her cheek as he leans down to kiss her as gently as possible on the forehead. The hand that’s intertwined with her own is brought up to his heart, hers against his chest so that she can feel the beat of his heart.    

 

“You feel that?” He asks, not waiting for an answer before he’s talking again, “That’s yours. And it'll always be yours. Nothing is going change that. I know what I said that night and I need you to know that I didn’t mean any of that shit. I was having a bad day and I took it out on you and I am so fucking sorry,” Ashton sobs, his tears landing on her hospital gown now because he’s leaning over her body and if he loses his balance, he’s going to end up landing on her and he doesn’t want that to happen. But he also doesn’t want to move away because he knows what it feels like to lose her and he’d rather die than have to go through that pain again.   

 

“Ashton…” she trails off and her voice is still croaky before she starts coughing.   

 

Ashton pulls back then, reaching for the bottled water on the bedside table. There’s an unused straw in a paper wrapping next to it so he tore it open with his teeth, dunking the straw into the bottle and then offering it to her whilst manoeuvring himself so that half of his bum is seated on the hospital bed, by her hip. He knows he should be calling the doctors but he doesn’t want to just yet. He needs her to know how sorry he is, he needs to see for himself that she’s (kind of) okay.   

 

“Here, baby, drink,” he coaxes gently. Y/N does as he’s asked (also probably because he’s practically shoving the straw into her mouth) and then she’s swallowing the liquid and Ashton’s just watching her, eyes dancing across her face like he hasn’t seen her in years.   

 

Seeing Y/N awake is different as opposed to seeing her unconscious. Whilst unconscious, she’s motionless. Ashton can’t see her eyes, can’t see her lips quirk up into tiny smiles that he adores, can’t see her biting down on her bottom lip. Whilst awake, finally awake, Ashton can see her eyes and they’re more beautiful than he remembers them to be, he can see her eyelashes flutter like butterflies as she blinks, he can see her – and she’s awake and she is so beautiful.    

 

“Are you okay?” He asks quietly once he takes the bottle away, setting it on the bedside table and then cupping her cheek once more, rubbing small circles on her skin.    

 

She nods, blinking repeatedly, and it’s rather adorable.    

 

“I’m sorry,” Ashton says again. “I’m so, so, so, so sorry. And I know that my apology means nothing because they’re just words but I will spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you. I’ll be here for you, supporting you with any decision you made. I swear to God. I won’t overreact like I did that night, I won’t let you walk away from me again. I can’t lose you. I love you, so fucking much, and I can’t lose you." 

 

"Ashton…” Y/N starts again and her voice is shaky and her eyes are starting to tear up.   

 

“Baby, no, don’t cry,” he tries to pull her into a hug, but she pulls back, shaking her head. And it shouldn’t hurt this much that she’s pushed him away, but it does. Tugs at his heart a little, another tear threatening to fall. “Y/N, baby, what’s wrong?” Ashton asks and his voice is just a whisper, the hand that’s holding hers tightening.   

 

“Ashton…” she starts once more and her breathing has sped up, heart monitor’s going crazy as her heart is sped up. Ashton’s worried now. Something’s wrong, but he doesn’t fucking know what. Then Y/N finally speaks, and it tears at his heart and shatters his soul, “Ashton, why can’t I see?”

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