✔︎Baby | OT4

006

"Help! Please, stop." Ashton's broken, sobbing voice echoed softly through a bedroom door. Michael had never heard the boy sound so pained, to the pout where he nearly didn't recognize him. But, he did, and his eyes blazed.

The pale boy, who tended to stick to eating pizza instead of lifting, slammed the locked door open with a violent kick. He was met with a sight that made his vision blur with a fierce anger. Ashton was pinned to the bed, face red with tears, while a slimy, dark haired brunette pounded cruelly into him. Michael grabbed the guy by his neck, and threw him across the room. He texted Calum and Luke, while wrapping Ashton in a hug, all in one fluid motion.

The tawny blonde was completely bare, his skin marked with rapidly forming bruises and harsh marks from the guy crumpled in the corner. Mikey held the curly haired teenager tightly, soon joined by Calum and Luke, who immediately dragged Remi from the room. The boys never beat up people in Ashton's presence.

Michael hugged the small boy wiping tears from his face with one hand, the other helping him slip back into his clothes. Ash sobbed, the clothes felt lime they were infected, his skin felt infected, it was like Remi had left a thick layer of dirt on his skin. "Get it off me, please," Ashton sobbed, clawing at his skin, his clothes, his face. "There's dirt, it's all over me!" He wailed. Michael wanted to cry, or punch something. Unlike he'd thought that day in the greenhouse, the seventeen-year-old was destroyed because of his beauty.

A raven haired girl knocked on the door suddenly, sticking her head in slightly. "You can use the shower, if you'd like. I'm Ashley, I live here," she offered, a single strand of long, ebony hair slipping over her dark green, nearly black eyes.

   "Are you sure?" Michael asked carefully, holding Ashton close to him.

   "Of course. I'm really sorry about that guy, by the way." Ashley's voice was genuine, and she gestured to the en suite bathroom, and to one in another room. "I can get you some of my brothers clothes too, or wash those ones," she offered, with a surprisingly sober tone, considering she'd thrown the party.

   "Thanks," Michael nodded, gently leading a weak Ashton out into the hall, and the washroom. Ashley grabbed a few towels from a closet against the wall, and ducked into a room. She reappeared quickly, armed with black sweatpants and a loose blue t-shirt. 

"Here. There's soap and whatever in there, and if you want to throw those clothes out to me I'll throw them in the wash." Michael nodded gratefully, leading Ash—who was crying softly into his shoulder—into the bathroom, and lifted him to sit next to the sink. He shut the door, helping the miserable seventeen-year-old out of his Remi-dirtied clothes. Mikey cracked open the door just enough to hand the attire to Ashley, before turning back to Ash.

"Come on, baby, let's get that dirt off your skin, okay?" Ashton stumbled into the shower, closing the glass door behind him.

"I can- I can do it myself," he stammered, and the eighteen-year-old nodded, exiting the bathroom with a reassuring, loving glance at Ash. Ashley was there when he exited, though in the dark hall, her attire blended into the background. All Michael could see was a pale outline of her face and hands, and bright red lipstick.

"Is he-?" Michael nodded in response to the unfinished question. Luke was soon by his side, knuckles cut and bleeding.

"Calum's got the fucker outside, and the cops are on their way," the blonde informed, leaning against Michael tiredly. The blue haired lad wrapped an arm around his slim waist; Luke had a habit of forgetting to breathe while fighting, which resulted in harsh headaches.

   "Ash's in the shower," Michael responded. Luke glanced up at Ashley, nodding distractedly. They stood there in silence for nearly forty minutes, before Luke and Michael were both heading towards the bathroom door, their internal clocks synced.

Luke knocked gently, before he and Michael let themselves in, closing the door behind them. Though it could seem invasive, the boys were all in a sort of polyamorous relationship. Let's just say that though Ash wasn't involved in the game they'd created and was far more innocent than the other three, little Ashton still got attention.

The two boys were met with a heart wrenching sight. Ashton was sobbing, leaned heavily against the tile shower wall, and his short fingernails were clawing desperately across his tan, smooth skin. Luke immediately stepped in beside him, delicately pulling the boys hands from his stomach. Ashton choked out a deep, wailing sob. "There's dirt all over me, it's all over me," he whimpered, collapsing into Luke's strong grip.

"You're okay, baby, you're clean, okay? See, the water's washing it away," Luke soothed, petting Ashton's curls and holding his skin—that was perfectly clean, though marred with small cuts and bruises—under the burning hot water. The eighteen-year-old immediately lessened the heat, wincing at how red it'd turned Ashton's small form. Michael stood outside the small space, watching Ashton concernedly. He nodded in agreement with Luke's statement.

Though the small boy had been ripping at his skin for twenty minutes, he watched, as the phantom dirt drizzled away. With a relieved, yet still broken sob, the seventeen-year-old collapsed into Luke's arms. The blonde carefully lead him out from under the water, turning it off as Ashton stepped out of the shower, Michael wrapping him in a fluffy black towel.

   "It'll be okay, baby. You'll be okay." The blue haired lad had no idea just how wrong that statement would be.