I'm okay (5sos ot4)

10

~(still Michael's POV)~

When me and Ash walk in Luke is staring at something in his hands.

A pill bottle.

"What is it?" I ask, cause what is the medication for, allergies, erectile dysfunction, it could be for anything.

"It's medication, it doesn't say what for, but," Luke pulls the dresser open, looking down and reaching, and I can hear the sound of pills in bottles like soft maracas, "there is plenty of different ones."

Ashton whimpers, giving me chest pains and I pull him close rubbing his side because I want to protect my kumquat from any trouble. None of my sweet cakes deserve to feel anything but happy. Unless it's lust.

"We'll have to ask him." Ashton's shaking voice says.

"Or look for the prescriptions," I say "Normally when you get a prescription it says why you need it." I explain.

"Okay" Luke blinks, dumbfounded. Or maybe it's awe.

If it's awe he's not seeing how he deserves so much more.

We start shuffling through papers and yanking open drawers. Venting our emotions of rage and fear on inanimate objects, distracting ourselves from thinking about him even though we're looking for him.

It feels like morning but he's still fucking alive. Still breathing. Still thinking.

Shit. He still thinking.

I slide down the dresser I just searched through.

He's still thinking.

He might think we're judging him, or hate him. He's not okay. He's not okay. I need to get that in my head, but he still seems like the happy guy I became best friends with. That I put all my hope in.

The guy I was falling for since I met him at Pizza Hut. The guy who smiles blind me and whose winks send my heart on a roller coaster. The guy that can't describe me as anything but myself. The guy that poked Luke's eye with a straw.

I want my tin foil astronaut. But he's still thinking.

I get up an wipe my face and shake everything, jumping up and down, because everything is just so tense.

I pull myself together, because the police is looking for him better than we could and there's nothing else we can do but wait.

But we're impatient and worrying about white vans and angry about not telling us and sad that might not want to come back and afraid about how far he'll go tonight.

Why are we looking for something he didn't want us to know, that would make him angry at us? I guess we're trying to understand, to not be sad because we know how sick he is or to be afraid because we do.

Or maybe just to waste time. Or maybe we want him to be angry at us, because we should've known. We aren't okay, we should know what it looks like.

I sit on the bed next to Luke and see his tear stained face I pull him into my lap and hold him tight kissing his neck softly.

"Penguin, he's 19, he's been outside of the house by himself before. This time he's just not telling us where." I mutter against his neck.

Luke shakes his head, and in a quiet voice replied "But this time we know he's not okay."

I rub his sides, knowing false hope isn't going to do any good.

Ash joins us soon after and divides a stack of papers and Manila folders between us.

Luke shimees off my lap and awkwardly plops down between us. He wraps his arm around me and Ash pouts.

"Ah is kumquat jealous?" I ask mockingly.

"Yes" Ash says matter-of-factly. They than lay themselves across both of mine and Luke's lap.

Then we set upon the challenge of finding out what the medication does and how long he's lied about not having them.