all mine | ft. michael clifford

thirty;

Dedicated to @o2laugh for hella rad support.

Special POV: Olivia Ackley

I know paramedics aren't allowed to tell patients and patients' families that things are going to be okay. I know they're not allowed to make promises or act as though everything is going to be fine once everyone gets to hospital. I know that they can't do that. But when someone who means the world to you is laying on a stretcher having a fit after overdosing on drugs, the rules don't seem so important and it's hard not to want a medical professional's reassurance that they're going to be alright. Ashton had turned a sick colour mixed between grey and white.

Honestly?

I thought he was going to die in the back of that ambulance.

And so when they'd asked Michael to ride with them and not me, I'd lost it. I screamed. And screamed. And screamed. And cried. And kicked at Luke when he'd held me away from the closing doors. I cried. And cried. And cried. And wanted more than anything to go all Romeo and Juliet on Ash and just off myself - all so that I wouldn't have to deal with the pain of showing up to the hospital and have them tell me that he hadn't made it.

Because if he didn't make it then I was sure that I would die as well. My bones would disintegrate, my heart burst into flames and my blood freeze up. Nothing would mean anything if he were to vanish from my life.

Not to mention that it was my entire fault. All of it was my fault. Ashton had told me numerous times when we were together that he'd never touched a drug in his life and that when fans told him they had drug problems he was devastated. He listened to their stories about dealing with addiction and overcoming it through escapism tactics, like music. He'd listened to their stories and he'd sworn to me that he'd never become like that and that I shouldn't either.

He wouldn't have done any of this while we were together. I had no idea how long he'd been using substances to make himself feel better but I was smart enough to know that it had only been happening since our break-up. It had only been happening since I tore his heart out and refused to give it back. I had been selfish. I had seen only my pain and forgotten about his.

I was caught up in myself and now he was a mess. And potentially dead.

"Hurry up!" I shouted at the cab driver, voice pitchy and tear-clouded.

Luke's hand patted my arm and I jerked away from him. I didn't want comfort, from him or anyone. I wanted to see Ashton and tell him that I was sorry and that I still loved him more than anything.

"Liv, he's going as fast as he can," Melissa told me from where she sat in the front seat, her eyes as wet as mine.

But 'as fast as he can' wasn't enough. I needed us to be flying; I needed the tyres to be screeching and for this guy's foot to be placed on the accelerator so hard that his toes touched the floor. This wasn't fast enough, not at all.

I couldn't breathe, my sobs hitching in my throat and coming out as quiet gasps.

He could be dead right now. He could be dead right now. He could be dead right now.

Special POV: Ashton Irwin

She is the first thing I see when my eyes pry themselves open and I swear that I am in heaven. The only thing that seems out of place is the fact that her eyes are red and puffy and her mascara is all over her cheeks.

How is it possible for someone to look so deranged and beautiful all at once?

She is the dream. She is this pink haired goddess that is now staring at me like she used to stare at me. Like she loves me again.