Broken Boy (Lashton/Malum) *DISCONTINUED*

chapter 7

A/N- Well... I am back. This story is taking it's own turns. I don't even know anymore, like I'm just going along with whatever I type out, check the spelling, and publish it. SO UNPROFESSIONAL!!! Anyway... Enjoy :)

Ashton's POV:

Michael and I walked into my house and I was instantly filled with embarrassment.

There were dirty dishes piled high in the sink, (I washed yesterday morning why would he need so many?) Beer cans were thrown across the floor of the living room, and there lay my "father" passed out, probably drunk, on the couch.

I quickly turned around and buried my face in Michael's chest. Why does it have to be this way?

"Please don't hate me. I'm so sorry you had to see this," I sobbed.

Michael sighed and rubbed his hands us and down my back, trying to comfort me. It wasn't working. "It's okay, Ashy. It's not your fault, okay," he tried to reassure me. "Let's just go to your room and get your clothes so we get out of here, alright."

As I nodded, I heard movement from the living room. My dad must be awake.

"Ashton! Get your worthless ass in here! Where the hell were you, faggot!" he yelled at me, his words slurred together. (A/N- I feel bad about that word every time i have to use it... but it's only for the story. I hate it so much)

I kept my face hidden in Mikey's chest, hoping if we made no noise he just leave it alone. But then I heard footsteps, and they kept getting closer. Michael's arms tightened around me.

"Oh did you think that if brought someone back with you I wouldn't still beat the living hell out of you? No, I'll just show them how worthless you are too," he said. "Let him go. I'll teach him a lesson," he slurred out trying to grab me away from Michael.

"Oh fuck you!" Michael screamed right back at him. "Your drunk out of your mind. Do you seriously think I'm gonna let you lay a finger on your son," Michael said through gritted teeth. He backed us away from him some.

"That little worthless fag ain't my son! And I don't who you think you are talking to me like that in my house, but I suggest you leave now. And take that thing with you!" He yelled walking over to the fridge and grabbing another beer.

Michael dragged us both upstairs and took a guess at what room was mine. He walked into my closet, grabbed out a bag, and began shoving most of my clothes into it. Once he was finished, he looked at me with a red face. He was furious.

"Come on, Ashton. You can stay with me for as long as you like, and if I get my parents permission, you might never have to come back here again," he said, grabbing my wrist, causing me to jerk back instinctively.

Michael looked at me apologetically."I'm so sorry, babe. I forgot about those. I'm just... really pissed right now," he said sadly. I held back tears and nodded my head. I know he didn't mean it.

Michael and I walked back down the stairs. I was holding Mikey's left hand tightly while Michael was holding my bag filled with most all of my clothes and other necessities in the other. When we reached the bottom of the stairs, I got extremely nervous. What if my dad was waiting in the other room for us to come back? If he hurts Michael I won't be able to forgive myself. He could easily be waiting for us to get back and hurt us both.

Michael must have noticed something was wrong with me because he stopped and hugged me. "I won't let him hurt you, Ashton. I promise," he whispered in my ear. It was actually very reassuring. I took a deep breath and we continued walking out of the house.