#bullemla

[5sosxqueen]

Poor Health and Self Destruction

(Ashton Rewritten):

~Part 1~ , Part 2 >

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Warnings: This story contains graphic depictions of physical and mental illness, suicidal ideations/actions, self-induced vomiting/bulimia, anorexia, mentions of sex, and Asparagus. Please proceed with caution.

This storyline takes place in 2017. Enjoy!

Word Count: 10645

Also Availible on Wattpad and AO3!!!

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Luke's POV:

     "Ashton, you're burning it!" Michael yelled as he rushed to the pan on the burner, scaring Ashton of his stupor. He lifted the ban off the burner, holding it up. "Well, it appears these hash browns are out of the question," he laughed, unknowingly making Ashton feel bad.

      Ashton was making breakfast for everyone on the last day we were on the bus until our next show. "Oh… My bad, I completely spaced out there. Breakfast is ready," He let out a nervous chuckle and started to put food onto plates. He served everyone, saving himself for last and he went to hand me a plate, but I only waved him off. "Come on, Luke, you need to eat something," he sighed, his shoulders dropping.

     "That burnt smell is making me sick. I'm not hungry, anyway," I explained. He shoved the plate closer towards me, like a parent trying to nudge me to eat as if I were a child not wanting to eat his vegetables. I looked at it grossed out. I glanced up at him. "No thanks," I protested with a little attitude, pushing it back to its original position. 

      "I'm sorry about the smell, Luke. Try to ignore it. Please, just eat Luke," he insisted. When the only response he got was a glare, he grabbed the fork, trying to force-feed me. I smacked his hand away, grabbed the plate in anger, and flung it across the room. The plate shattered once it came in contact with the wall. My outburst caused Michael and Calum to jump out of their skins. 

      "I said no! Fuck off," I slapped my hands against the counter and stormed off, laying down on my bunk. I curled into a fetal position with a small sigh. Large parts of me felt bad for my actions and outbursts, but I couldn't help it. I was just so angry all the time.

      A while later, Ashton walked back in. Keeping his distance, he asked, "Could you please eat something? I'm worried about you," He was speaking calmly, to likely avoid another outburst from me. I huffed and sat up, figuring I'd had enough time to cool off. I agreed reluctantly and followed him back into the kitchenette. Michael and Calum got up from their spots as I walked back into the room. They were avoiding me, avoiding my gaze.

      Ashton set another smaller plate in front of me, and out of instinct, I pushed it away again. I wasn't interested in the food in the slightest.

      "Luke, you haven't been eating! You are severely underweight! Eat, please…" he begged, sounding close to tears. I could see the utter disappointment and worry on his face. He pinched the bridge of his nose and brought his hand to rub the back of his neck, clearly getting more than impatient with me. I wanted to cry. I hated making people feel that way. Begrudgingly, I reached for the plate to eat the grease-ridden food in front of me. I thanked him shyly and started eating. I dreaded each bite. When I was done, I pushed my plate away and got up, heading straight to the bathroom. 

      I stared long and hard at the man staring back at me in the mirror. He was not me. He was skin and bones and despite Ashton's words, I knew I was way heavier than that man looking back at me. I looked down at my bulging stomach in disgust. 

      I let a tear slip, my mind being invaded by tons of dysphoric thoughts. I always hated my appearance. I wasn't eating in hopes to lose the colossal amount of fat I was drowning in. It did not matter what I did, it just didn't seem to be enough. 

      The food was sitting heavily in my stomach, despite only having eaten one-third of what was on my plate. I got onto my knees in front of the toilet, stopping for a moment to turn on the shower in hopes to block out the ensuing noise. I lifted the lid of the toilet and stared at the clear water below. I brought my hand to my mouth, sliding my fingers back to my uvula. I couldn't help but pull away when I initially gagged. I did this a couple of times, this time only letting myself remove my hand when I had something forcing its way up. I coughed up my breakfast and sniffled after. 

      I didn't feel much better. I blew out a sour breath, watching the now murky water ripple. I coughed hard enough to elicit another gag. I spit the residue of vomit left in my mouth and flushed the toilet, sending the evidence down the drain. I cringed at the sticky slime-like saliva that was coating my right hand and pushed the curtain aside to rinse it off. 

       I showered with my mind racing. I knew I needed to at least pretend while around the lads. I had to be okay for their sake.

Ashton's POV:

    Luke was worrying me, Michael, and Calum. We had been watching helplessly as he went from a healthy weight and happy to severely malnourished and depressed. He had been fighting all of us, mainly me, when it came to eating. It had been a daily struggle since a month into the start of the tour. I was getting tired of it, tired of the worry and looming fear that he wasn't going to be around for much longer, as grim as that sounded. 

     I wasn't about to tell him, but he wasn't exactly quiet in the bus bathroom. I could tell Luke was making himself vomit up what I had given him. It wasn't like it was the first time. I sighed resignedly to myself. He was rapidly depriving himself of his precious life.

     I was relieved when we were finally able to deboard the bus after a full ten days of travel. Getting to the hotel, Matt had told us that management decided to treat us to our own rooms. It was a rarity. We all were ecstatic to hear the news, especially since I had a migraine brewing for the past few days and medicine hadn't done much to elevate it. Luke's outburst earlier in the day hadn't exactly helped either. I wasn't sure if it was the stress from that whole fiasco or if I was actually getting sick. 

     I was given my key card and I half-assedly dragged my luggage up to my room. I was so drained by the time I reached the door. I slid the key in and opened it, letting myself in. I didn't even bother looking around before I toed off my shoes beside the door. All I wanted was to get to bed. I got settled in the room as quickly as I could and threw myself atop the bed, barely having the energy to crawl under the covers before my eyes closed of their own accord.

     I groaned as I slowly woke from my uneasy slumber. My head felt like it was stuffed with cotton and my neck was sore to high heaven. Even in the darkness of my hotel room, the casted light of the moon was blinding. I grimaced as I rose to a sitting position. I wanted to know what time it was, but I was too terrified to look. I already felt like I had daggers being pressed into my eyeballs.

      I made the decision to just do it. I tried to turn my neck over my shoulder and was met with a shockwave of pain radiating down from the base of my skull. I yelped, reaching my hand back to attempt to massage the pain away. I let out small whimpers as I turned my body to squint at the illuminated clock on the nightstand. It was only three-twenty in the morning.

      I squeezed my eyes shut, quickly shielding them from the offending light. The pain instantly ebbed; I let out a long sigh, feeling my body relax some. I knew I needed to try the medicine again. I had some with me, but it was across the room in my travel bag. I threw the blanket aside, abandoning the warmth, in favor of feeling better.

     As I moved, I felt like a foreigner in my own body. I was shaking harshly by the time my feet touched the floor. I held my trembling hands in front of my face for a moment, rapidly concluding that it wasn't just my neck that was achy, everything was. Just the simple act of lifting my arms hurt immensely. 

     I buried my face in the palms of my sweaty hands, contemplating calling Matt; something about this was all wrong. I knew that, yet ultimately decided against it, seeing as how the sun wasn't even dawning yet. I dropped my hands into my lap, trying to get my body to move. 

     I straightened as much as I could, a couple of cracks emanating from the top of my back. I bit back another groan when my stomach swirled under my fingers. I sat there for a while, once again tossing the idea of calling Matt or one of the guys, but I didn't want to burden them with a simple flu.

     I sighed and stood to shuffle across the room. My surroundings tilted and spun around me, eliciting me to stumble and I was forced to gulp down the warmth rising in my chest. I prayed I wasn't about to hurl all over the carpet under my feet. I ceased all movement, taking a deep breath.

     When I finally felt okay enough to move, I continued. It took longer than I would have cared to admit to get to the table my bag was set upon. By the time I was there, I was panting from exertion. I fell limply into the chair beside it as I rummaged through to find the medicine. 

     It wasn't much. All I had brought was a bottle of ibuprofen and Pepto Bismol. I uncapped both bottles and took a swing of the foul pink liquid, almost dropping the practically full bottle at the taste. I gagged, trying to swallow it. The taste was awful, sure, but the consistency of the medicine was what nearly made me lose my stomach. My throat worked in overdrive to rid itself of the slime that coated it. It took a moment, but I managed to regain my composure enough to close the bottle and take the pills.

     I looked over at the bed. There was no way I'd be getting back over there, dejectedly laying my head in the crook of one of my arms, utterly exhausted. 

Calum's POV:

     "Where in the actual fuck is he?" Luke cursed, checking his phone for the hundredth time in ten minutes. I shrugged, not knowing what to say. I was getting worried. Ashton was never late. It was totally unlike him.

     Michael sighed, pushing himself away from the wall. "I'm going to try to give him a ring again. I think he may have fallen back to sleep," I agreed with him. 

     "I say, if he doesn't answer, we should head up and check on him," I suggested. Luke glared at me, causing me to shrink a little. I was only concerned for Ash's wellbeing… Nothing big…

       "Well, I'm not going. It's not up to me to make sure he's up and ready on time," Luke griped. Michael growled.

       "God, Luke, shut the fuck up already! He would do the same for you," Michael snapped, waiting for his phone to ring. The hotel had terrible reception. He ducked his head down once his phone started to ring. Nothing. Michael sighed. "Could we all check on him? I'm getting worried," I nodded and both of us looked to Luke for an answer. "Are you coming?" He finally asked.

       "No. Like I said before, I'm staying down here," I nodded slowly. 

       "Right, don't go complaining if we don't come down right away. I know he hasn't been feeling the greatest the past couple of days," Michael warned. Luke shrugged, nodding his head with his eyebrows raised, making me flashback to our teen years when our parents or teachers were being stern with us and we didn’t want to hear it. Seems like he hadn’t grown out of doing that. 

       We went up to Ashton's room. I knocked as a small warning for him but received no answer. I took the spare key card and swiped it. I slowly opened the door and peered into his room. Ashton was slumped over on the table. My heartbeat quickened. I walked briskly over to where he was sitting and shook him on the shoulder.

      "Stop," he mumbled. I breathed out a sigh of relief. At least he was okay. He surveyed the room, eyeing Michael and me. "Can you find the bin and hand it to me, please?" He asked, closing his eyes with a shudder. He placed his hand on his stomach. I searched for a whole two seconds.

      I bent down and snatched it. "Here. It was actually right behind you," I said, passing it to him. He placed it in his lap causing Michael and I to frown. He gagged and coughed almost instantly. He spit a tiny trickle of orangey-pink-tinted saliva into the bin. He spit once more before placing the bin back onto the ground at his feet. 

       He grunted harshly in an attempt to clear his throat and bore the palm of his hands into his eyes. "Can one of you guys p-please close those?" Ashton pointed over to the window. Michael went over assuming he meant the curtains and slid them closed. Ashton exhaled loudly once the darkness enveloped the room.

       "So," Michael started, walking back to the table. He pulled up the other chair to sit in front of Ashton, being mindful of the bin. "Did you sleep here last night or something?" He asked Ashton.

      Ashton lowered his hands and looked at him, still squinting at the minimal light still cascading in. "Something like that… I woke up in a massive amount of pain and came here to take meds. I guess I did fall asleep sometime after that," Ashton rolled his head, wincing slightly. "I'm paying for it though. My neck kills worse now," he whispered. He squeezed his eyes shut, his mouth forming a straight line. He shot forward with a sudden dry heave. One hand went to his knee for support, the other going to his head. Michael was quick to bring the bin up under his chin. 

      The next heave brought up more medicine and last night's dinner, which was barely recognizable at this point. I carefully massaged his neck. He seemed to lose a bit of tension compared to when I first started. He didn't bring up a whole lot so he finished vomiting relatively quickly.

      "I don't know about you, Calum, but I feel like we should see if we could take him to the doctor. I'm not liking the amount of pain he's in," I nodded and went to make an appointment with the closest doctor's office. As luck would have it, the place I called had times available for the same day. I set up a time and briefed the other two. Ashton blearily nodded. It was just enough for me to notice.

      Ashton wiped the sweat from his forehead and cleared his throat. "Um, what about the- the photoshoot? I can't miss," Ashton asked, reminding us of why we were awake at six in the morning in the first place. "Do you guys want me to call Matt to let him know what's going on?" 

       Michael shook his head. "You don't need to do anything. One of us can do it," Michael said. Holding onto Ashton's shoulder, seeing that he looked like he was about to fall forward.

       "I need to do it. I doubt it would be as believable if I didn't do it," we both just looked at Ashton, unamused.

       "Dude, it's not like you are trying to fake your way out of this one. You are really sick," I responded. He hummed and shrugged, mumbling an okay under his breath. "I'll go ahead and make the call. Can you stay with him? I'm going to head back down to Luke to let him know what's going on. Hopefully, we can get this shoot rescheduled," Mike nodded, eyeing Ashton intensely. He reached his hand out and placed it on top of Ashton's. Ashton's head was bobbing forward.

Michael's POV: 

      "Would you like to lie down?" I asked, causing him to lift his head and startle out of his dosing state. Ashton just stared ahead for a while. "Ashton?" I frowned, squeezing his hand slightly as worry grew. He turned to me slowly with a hum, staring straight through me. "Do you want to lie down?" I repeated. He nodded jerkily, his eyes darting around. He seemed so out of it. I felt bad for him. 

I helped him up, thankful that I had a decent grip on him. His knees began to give out as soon as he was upright. "Have’ta piss," he admitted. 

      "Okay, let's turn and head to the bathroom, then," not a word more was exchanged between the two of us. I stayed with him while he did his business and led him back to bed once he was done. He fell onto the bed and halfway on top of the blanket, having to pull it out from under him in order to get it on him. His face was contorted. He looked like he was in absolute agony. There wasn’t anything, in my mind, that I could do to make him feel better. I just tucked him in even though it wasn’t going to solve a thing. His face softened and he was letting out congested snores before I had even gotten the covers over him. Maybe it solved something, at least temporarily.

      I placed the bin beside him and sat across the room from him at the table. It wasn't long until Calum reentered, Luke tailing him. I shushed them, not wanting Ashton to wake. 

      "How is he? It reeks of barf in here," Luke commented, wrinkling his nose at the smell. I was just glad he kept it quiet.

       "Well, yeah. He was in a lot of pain so he got sick," Luke looked down at his feet shyly, kicking an imaginary pebble around. "What did management say about the shoot, Cal?" I asked.

      "They surprisingly didn't argue. They are allowing all of us to skip this one as it isn't a completely necessary one," I raised my eyebrows. That wasn't like them at all.

      "Wow," I mused, earning a chuckle from the two. "What time did you say his appointment was?" I asked, glancing over at Ashton again when I heard a whimper come from his general direction. He was still asleep.

     Calum took a seat on the edge of Ashton's bed, trying not to jostle him too much. Luke decided to sit in Ashton's old spot. "The appointment is at one so we've got around five hours to kill. What do you guys want to do?" I tried to think of something, but couldn't come up with anything. "Well, this hotel does have a small buffet downstairs. Maybe two of us could go," 

"That does sound like a good idea," I responded. Luke's stomach growled almost on cue at the mention of food, making Calum and I gaped over at him. Luke's eyes widened with embarrassment.

      "Uh, yeah, great idea, Cal," Luke reiterated. He shot up and nudged my shoulder. "You and Cal can get food for me and Ashton," he damn near pushed the both of us out of the room.

      When we were outside, we both sighed in synchronization. "He is not going to eat, is he?" I asked. Calum shook his head. 

      He started walking away. I rushed to catch up to him. "I'm fed up with how Luke has been acting," Calum said.

       "Same here, but I don't think there is anything we can do, unfortunately," We made small talk the rest of the way, discussing what we would do about Ashton and Luke. Neither one of us had any clue. It was something we would just have to play by ear. 

       We ate and grabbed plates for the others. The plates consisted of small salads and scrambled eggs. It wasn't much, but it was light and we hoped that Luke would try to eat it too with no backlash. Due to the day before, we were still a little afraid of what he would do.

       When we got back to the room, we heard sobbing. Luke was cuddling with Ash, brushing his hair with his fingers, trying to get him to calm down.

Luke's POV:

       After the other two had left, I climbed into Ashton's bed. I had zoned out listening to the sound of Ashton's light snoring. He grumbled and suddenly whispered my name. "Yes, Ash?" I asked. He was staring at me with eyes half closed. 

     "Mhm… I m-" my eyebrows furrowed as I tried to make out what he was saying.

     "What?" I moved closer to his face to hear him better.

     "I miss you," I was thoroughly confused. I backed away from him slightly.

     "I'm right here. What do you mean, 'you miss me'?" 

     "I miss the real you. You've been different for months. I just miss you," it seemed like he was rambling, but I couldn't help but feel guilty nonetheless. He hummed, his face contorted into a grimace as he tried to adjust himself. His body relaxed, but he tossed his head.

      "You okay?" I was watching his skin turn a translucent shade of gray. When I received no answer, I pressed the back of my hand to his forehead to get a proper feel. I yanked my hand away in shock. "God, Ashton, you are boiling," I shot up. I was growing extremely worried.

      "My stomach," he cried. 

     "What about your stomach? Does it hurt? What's wrong?" I questioned.

     "Nauseous," he opened and closed his mouth multiple times, huffing.

     "The bins right beside you," he groaned and opened his eyes. I wasn't sure what he was going to do next. He laid there for a couple more minutes, seemingly trying to ride out the nausea. We were both startled when he unexpectedly let out a loud gurgling dry heave. Well, it was almost dry. His back arched and he began to choke. He scrambled to get his face over the side of the bed and over the bin. Another retch assaulted his body, leaving him a trembling mess.

     I sat there not entirely sure what to do. I never was the one taking care of someone who was sick. I decided to pat his back in hopes of comforting the sick man. He belched up a small stream of whatever was in his stomach. Even behind him, I could hear the crinkle of the bag. I felt disgusted and felt bad for feeling that way. 

     After a handful of dry heaves he laid back down bawling his hazel eyes out. Almost out of instinct, I reached down and started rubbing his chest and stomach. 

      That was when Calum and Michael came back into the room. They held not one, but two plates of food. I internally groaned, not wanting to eat whatever monstrosities the buffet had to offer. Upon seeing what the lads had put onto the plate, however, I sat up and actually decided it wasn't so bad. At least salad is healthy and I wouldn't feel the need to purge after the fact. 

They handed Ashton and I the plates and I dug in. I was ravenous. I froze around mid way through. Ashton wasn't eating anything, which wasn't too surprising all considering. He was just pushing his food around on his plate. I continued to eat until the plate was gone and handed it over to Calum with thanks.

     "I'm sorry, I can't eat this," Ashton sighed, placing the plate onto the nightstand beside him. Mike frowned but reached for it and handed it over to Calum. We all sat there praying for the hours to tick on by.

Ashton's POV: 

      When it finally came time to go to the doctor, I was dizzy and couldn't stand on my own. I was having trouble before, but it was impossible by that point. Getting to the car was a chore. It made me realize that I had always taken my ability to move for granted.

        I came incredibly close to passing out right outside the office. As we were walking up, I grew weaker and my knees shook drastically. Someone swung the door open for us. The lads got me seated and Luke sat by me as the others checked me in. I leaned on his shoulder, feeling too dizzy and weak to keep myself upright. I ended up falling asleep to Mike, Cal, and Luke all conversing about me. They were fretting over the paperwork, filling out all the information that they knew. I was in a state where I could hear everything that was going on around me. I was aware of my insides churning, every ache in my body. I was so uncomfortable.

        Now and then, I would let out a pitiful whimper as my symptoms worsened. That went on until I was gently shaken awake. I groaned, glancing around to see who had done it. It was Michael. He was in front of me holding the clipboard. "Sorry to wake you. I know you are tired, but we need your social," my eyes were closed again by the time he finished speaking. I felt his fingers rub up against my cheek. "Ash?" I didn't have the energy to answer. I heard Michael sigh as he stood. 

      The next thing I knew, I was in someone's arms as they carried me back into a room. The swaying made me feel like puking again. I heard them talking amongst themselves for a while after being laid on a hard cushioned exam table. I curled up, hugging my knees to my chest. I let out a sob.

       All of the lads did what they could to keep me comfortable. Michael even gave me his hoodie to use as a pillow. Even though I was on steady ground I felt like I was rocking back and forth. It felt like I was on a ship that was caught in a storm while out at sea. "Oh, he's drooling," I heard one of them say, feeling something remarkably similar to a sweater paw, wipe the nausea-induced spit off my cheek soon after.

      A knock sounded throughout the ten-by-ten-foot room, causing me to wince from the pain that the reverb caused. The doctor came in and tried 'waking me,' but I wasn't budging. I whined and grumbled something under my breath that not even I couldn't decipher. My fever driven mind was making my thoughts all muddled as delirium set in. The doctor resorted to talking to the lads as she examined me. 

       She turned me every which way. She prodded my stomach. My eyes finally shot open as I gagged, my mouth filling with the contents of my stomach. I pulled myself to lean over the side of the exam table with a strong heave. My stomach was overwrought, apparently deciding that it needed to rid itself of everything… I had to let everything spew out of me. It all hit the floor with a sickening splatter. It came in large gushes, the definition of projectile. The movement caused a shocking pain to radiate down the base of my neck into my back. I had to rest my chin on the edge of the table, being in way too much pain to properly hold my own head up. The doctor pulled open a drawer and grabbed a sickness bag. She brought it over to me and held it under my chin as the productivity was reduced to a string of non-stop dry heaves. My stomach got its wish. It was definitely empty, yet it didn't seem to get the memo. I was in tears again by the time I was finally done, the reason split three ways: over exertion, exhaustion, and pain. 

        I mumbled a quiet apology, wiping my mouth on my sleeve. I was left panting heavily. I leaned back again, the dizziness getting worse. "He needs to go to the hospital. I'm going to call an ambulance," I shook my head, but whether I wanted to or not, I was going. I had no say in the matter. I watched the blurred shape of the doctor leave the room, hot on her heels.

        I felt a hand come to rest on mine and I held it as tight as I could muster. My eyes hovered toward the blonde tuft of hair beside me. I knew it was either Michael or Luke, but I couldn't distinguish between the two for the life of me. I coughed up some spittle and felt them wipe it away with a tissue. They held my hand again, this time holding my hand up pressed against their lips. I felt so tired. My eyes fell shut and my hand fell slack in the others' hold as I fully lost consciousness. My body had finally had enough.

      When I woke up again, there was a shrill and annoying beeping coming from the right of me. Once again, I could somewhat make out bits and pieces of conversation.

      "I thought he might have meningitis, but that doesn't seem to be the case. If he hasn't been complaining of a stiff neck, he hasn't gotten a rash anywhere, or any other symptom then that's not what he's got. I'm sorry. He's most likely just fainted due to being dehydrated from all the persistent vomiting," Someone said.

      "But he's been passed out the entire time he's been here. How would you know that he doesn't have a stiff neck? You've also barely even checked him over for the rash that you so overtantly claim he does not have," Calum retorted. I felt a hand in mine and squeezed it slightly to let whoever it was know I was awake.

     "Guys! He's awake," it was Michael. I cracked my eyes open, being blinded by the lights and white of the room. Once again, my eyes felt as if someone was taking a knife to them, and to make matters worse, the doctor Calum was arguing with came over and shined a minuscule flashlight into them. I yelped and swatted his hand away. The flashlight flew from his hand, clattering and effortlessly glided across the slick tile floor. I gripped the sheet of the hospital bed tightly, full-on crying. The overwhelming pain had escalated to unbearable. 

        There was frantic yelling, which did me no favors. I was writhing in the bed. I found myself choking on my own stomach acid again out of nowhere. I only had time to turn my head to the side before I was sick again. 

Calum's POV:

      After Ashton stopped vomiting, the doctor administered strong pain medicine and an antiemetic into Ashton's IV, but I made sure it was the last thing that doctor did to him. I no longer trusted him. I wanted a second opinion. I let the doctor know and he said he would tell someone to take the case over. 

      A new doctor came in an hour later. Poor Ash was still in tears. Michael and I were holding both his hands, squeezing the life out of ours, while Luke paced around the room, unable to stay still. The new doctor's name was Dr. Mukherjee, a beautiful Indian woman. 

      After greeting herself, she came to assess Ashton. She thoroughly looked him over, being as careful as she could as to not do any more harm to him. Still, Ashton whimpered and cried as she asked him to roll onto his side or move a certain way. Though, I had to admit, I was impressed with how gentle she was. 

     "Well, I don't see anything that would indicate anything serious. I think Dr. Falton was correct on the presumption of it just being a bad case of the flu. You can get severe migraines and pass out from dehydration," Ashton mumbled something and we all looked at him.

       "Mh- It's- My head was hurting before I started throwing up," he explained when he realized no one heard him. Dr. Mukherjee nodded.

      "Yes, well, have you been drinking enough water?" Ashton shrugged. His eyes were beginning to fall shut again. "I know it's been getting rather chilly out lately. It may mean you aren't feeling the need to drink as much water, but that doesn't mean your body doesn't need it," Ashton watched her with eyes half-lidded as she listened to his lungs, heart, and even stomach. "Yeah, I don't see anything that's a cause for concern. You just need more fluids and anti-nausea medication and rest. Im going to order a x-ray just to be sure and I would like to keep you here overnight to monitor you," she said, throwing her stethoscope back around her neck. Ashton gave the weakest of nods and cozied himself against the pillow, closing his eyes again, falling asleep almost instantly.

     While Ashton slept, Michael, Luke, and I headed down to the cafeteria. It was just about to close, but they let us in, thankfully. Everyone was hungry and even Luke had decided to eat something. They were serving tacos, one of Luke's childhood favorites. It was something he couldn't pass up. We sat at a table, talking about Ashton, and just general chit-chat. Luke had opted out of the conversation sometime in, picking listlessly at his food, and neither of us paid him any mind. It wasn't unusual for him to do that, lately. 

     What had honed our attention back on the man, was the sudden movement of him leaving the table and running off. We watched as he crossed the hall into the bathroom. Michael just scoffed and shook his head, returning to his meal as if nothing happened, but I stood up. "You aren't serious, right? Are you really going to check on him? Knowing him, he's making himself vomit again," I scowled at him, but nodded, walking off without a word. Michael hadn't seen what I had seen due to the angle he was at, but I knew for a fact that Michael's presumption was wrong. It wasn't by force. Not this time. Luke gagged before he even made it to the door. 

     I retraced Luke's steps, nearly slipping right outside the bathroom door. I looked down with a pang of sadness and sympathy when I realized that he hadn't even made it to the bathroom before he was sick, albeit not a lot. I swung the door open, ready to call him, only to stop when I laid eyes on him. He was right in front of the door, panting over the rubbish bin. "Hey, what's going on?" I reached out to him and he instantly leaned into my touch.

     "'M sorry. I just felt so nauseous all of a sudden. I don't think the food's agreeing with my stomach," I nodded. My worry deepened as he pitched forward bringing up another trickle of bile. I brushed his hair out of his face the best I could.

     "Luke, answer me this, and please be honest with me. Did you make yourself vomit?" I was hesitant to ask him, but I needed to know for sure that this wasn't intentional.

     Luke looked offended. "What? No, how could I? I barfed before I even made it in here. Why would you even ask that?," He raked his eyes over me as it dawned on him. "Dammit, you know… How long have you known?" I gave him a dejected look, my silence served as my answer. "Ah… I see," He turned his face back to the bin, his face pinching right before he was hit with another heave. He coughed and straightened back up some. "Do the others know?" I said nothing again, casting my gaze downward. Again, he got his answer.

       "Would you mind if I went to talk to Mike about something?" He shook his head, nausea induced spit dripping from his lips. "Is there anything I can do for you before I go?" 

      "Yeah, could you bring me something to wipe off my hand and mouth with?" I nodded, walking over to the sinks to grab and wet some paper towels for him, grabbing extra to clean the small mess outside the bathroom. No one else needed to fall, or nearly fall, because of it. "Cal," I stopped when he grabbed onto my wrist. "As an answer to your question, you two can put your worries to rest. I wouldn't do something like that in public eye,"

      Walking out of the bathroom, I took a moment to clean the spots in the hall, tossing the paper towels into a bin. "Mike, I seriously don't think he's doing it on purpose, this time," I explained, walking up to the table.

     I froze, mildly freaking out. Michael was on a video call with Matt, which of course he overheard what I said. "Doing what on purpose?" He asked. Michael and I looked at each other briefly.

     "Uh, Luke's been-" I stopped, biting my lip.

     "What are you boys not telling me? What has he been doing?" He questioned again, wanting an immediate and truthful answer from one of us. 

     "He's been making himself… vomit," I spat, my shoulders dropping as guilt had just fallen on them now that I outed Luke to him

      "What? You are telling me Luke's bulimic? Why am I just getting told this?" He berated us. He was absolutely fuming.

     "Sorry, Matt. To be honest, I don't know why we didn't say, but there's more. He isn't just bulimic… he's also anorexic," Michael butted in, only serving to further agitate our manager. I felt absolutely terrible that we did this.

      "I can't believe Luke's had, not one, but two eating disorders and you boys kept it from me… I need to know these things. How long has this been going on, exactly?" Matt inquired further.

     "Since the beginning of the tour," Michael told him. I scratched the back of my head nervously, seeing Matt roll his eyes at our 'carelessness'. He hung up and I knew right then we would all be getting an earful later on. All, including Ashton. Michael and I winced hearing a grating retch sound from the bathroom again. "You sure this wasn't his intent?" I nodded and he sighed, taking our trays over to the bin by the exit. "I suppose we should go check on him, then?" I agreed. 

     Just as we were walking over, Luke emerged, looking outright uncomfortable and peaky. "We've only got another hour to see Ashton. Do you guys want to head back up?" He grated, his voice completely shredded from the stomach acid.

     "Are you sure that's a good idea, Luke?" Michael inquired, raising an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest.

     "The food's not agreeing with me. That's all this is. I'm fine to go see him, Michael," Michael nodded, still not entirely convinced, but let it slide, nonetheless. Luke's movements were slower than usual and as soon as we entered the room again, he stopped with a hand over his mouth. "I'm just gonna-" he pointed to the bathroom, unable to even finish his sentence. He booked it toward the toilet, retching loudly before he could get above it. 

     The loud sound caused Ashton to jolt awake. "Is that Luke?" We nodded and he frowned. "Lu, you alright?" He called out, causing Luke to laugh dryly.

     "You are the one in the hospital, yet you're asking me if I'm alright?" For someone who was throwing up, he sounded very amused.

      "Well, I'm not the one that's currently spewing, am I?"

      "Touche," Luke recanted, further proving Ashton's point by barking out harsh dry heaves over the course of several minutes. 

      Michael had enough. He walked to the door, tapping against the frame harshly. "Alright, Luke, time to head back to the hotel. Come on," the toilet wasn't flushed, but I could hear Luke's knees pop as he rose from his crouch. "Did you even actually manage to get anything up?" They both came into view without a verbal response from Luke. I assumed the answer to Michael's question had been a no.

     "Sorry, Ash. I really was going to try to stay," Ashton shook his head.

     "It's almost time for you guys to leave,  anyway. Though, I think one person can stay with me…" he turned to me. "Please?" I smiled gently at him.

      It was settled. I stayed behind as the others went back. Ashton dozed off again soon after and when he woke again, he said if he needed to come back he wanted the same doctor, Dr. Mukherjee. I didn't think it was a good idea, but I didn't try to talk him out of it. He liked her. If he wanted her, then we would have to try to get her back on his file as his doctor, need be. 

       I tried to sleep while Ashton did. I was curled up on the recliner in the room beside him, listening to his soft snores. I placed a hand on my forehead, staring at the ceiling panels. A part of me couldn't shake the feeling that both doctors were wrong about his diagnosis. I sighed and curled onto my side. There wasn't anything I could do besides trust his doctor in the present moment and pray that she was right.

       I had barely slept a wink. Dr. Mukherjee came in just as I had gotten to sleep, waking me from my light slumber with a knock. I groaned and rubbed my eyes. She walked in and woke Ashton up to check on him. "How are you feeling? Any better?" Ashton pulled the covers to his chin, shivering. He licked his chapped lips.

      "Not good, but better, I guess," he answered eventually. His voice was shot from being so violently sick.

      "Okay, well let's get you something to eat. If you can keep it down, you will get discharged," she explained. Ashton agreed and he was handed a menu. "Just use the phone there to call down to the cafeteria once you find something you'd like," she pointed over to the phone on his nightstand. He nodded, taking a look at the menu in his hands. "Go ahead and ring when you are done eating and I'll come back in to check on you and discharge you,"

       "Thank you," Ashton said quietly. She left the room and Ashton turned to me. "I'm not hungry, honestly, not in the slightest," I frowned and sat forward, putting my elbows on my knees.

      "You know you need to eat, Ash," he sighed.

      "Yeah, I do," he picked up the menu again and eyed it wearily. "I guess I'll get a salad,"

      "For breakfast?" I asked, raising an eyebrow at him. He glanced my way.

      "Right… maybe just pancakes then. I need something light on my stomach," I nodded. He grabbed the phone and rang the cafeteria to let them know his order. 

      When the food came he didn't even want to open it. He finally did and instantly had a disgusted look on his face. He pushed it towards me. "Ashton… No, bud," his eyes watered. 

      "You have it, please. I'm not hungry. At all," I sighed. 

      "You need to eat. That was the one condition, Ash," Ashton just shook his head in response.

     "I can't. I'm still feeling sick. I just want to leave. I need to do the concert tonight," I sighed again. I didn't want to take his food and trick his doctor, but in truth I was really hungry, and if he didn't want it- 

      "Fine, I'll have two and a half. You need to at least try eating half," he nodded with a watery smirk. 

     "Deal," he chuckled, pushing the plate closer to me. I grabbed one of them and tore it in half, handing him the other piece. 

     "Oh, Matt knows by the way,"

     "About?" I mentally smacked myself. I had been having the whole conversation in my head instead of speaking aloud.

     "Sorry. About Luke. He knows about his poor eating habits and what he's been doing after the fact. Though, this time surprisingly had nothing to do with that," Ashton nodded, finishing off his pancake. I wanted him to try some of the applesauce the cafeteria provided, but he shook his head, insisting he couldn't eat more, and I didn't try to force him. 

     Thankfully, Ashton managed to keep down the single half of a pancake and was discharged soon after.

Ashton's POV:

       I kept blacking out from the moment I was discharged from the hospital. Most of the day sped by, missing from my memory. The worst episode was when I found myself on stage absolutely drenched in sweat under the heat of the stage lights. How I managed to get as far into the concert as I had in the state I was in, I'd never know.  We were already a little over twelve songs in. I had no recollection of the entire concert and I was a fuckin' terrified. That must have been what being on autopilot felt like…

       My vision doubled, but I persevered, just trying my damndest to finish the show. We only had two more songs left to play. I didn't want to disappoint the fans. Muscle memory was what powered me through the chorus of What I Like About You. It was a cover and I wasn't doing it any justice; my usual chaotic grace was gone. At some point in the song, I had just started to sporadically beat on the drums. My drumming was erratic and nonrhythmic. I barely made out my name being called by surrounding fans, sounding more than concerned. 

      Slowly, I heard the other instruments stop playing and the other's voices fizzled out. I leaned over to the mic and whispered that I was sorry and held a hand over my face. I let the drumsticks fall to the stage floor and gulped, feeling the nausea return despite the Zofran. I rested my head against one of the drums and stared down at the floor below. A hand came to rest on my shoulder, but I suddenly felt too ill to move. I swallowed compulsively, trying to down the excess saliva that was pooling under and around my tongue. I gagged shallowly. 

       The lights were being died down and some light music started to play. I wasn't sure if it was boys trying to distract the crowd or if someone in the sound booth was playing something over the speakers.

        Calum murmured to me that my mic was muted to which I was thankful. Things went from bad to worse in a moment. Without thinking, I attempted to push myself away from the thousand dollar drum kit. The stool tipped and I landed flat on my back, knocking the wind out of me, Calum was hovering above me. I gasped for breath before rolling to the side to dry heave, letting spit fall to the ground. Footsteps ran over and Calum explained to them the situation. I was mortified. I knew that the fans were still eyeing me, seeing me at my lowest, some probably attempting to record me in the darkness.

      There was a loud thud as the man fell to his knees beside me. He was talking to me but I could barely make anything out. I blinked, or so I thought. What I heard made my heart beat harder in my chest. "On-" One voice, then another, "He's having absence seizures,"

     It happened again. In what felt like a blink, fifteen seconds came and went. I was so disoriented that I didn't even register the need to vomit. I was rolled onto my side.

     My ears were ringing and my vision went. "C'n se-" I slurred. My body felt heavy as I fell into unconsciousness.

       Once again, I was rushed to the hospital in an emergency vehicle. I bawled my eyes out the entire time. I sincerely felt that I let the world down. All those fans… they came to have a good time and I ruined it. I was violently sick for a couple of minutes, vomiting straight into a sickness bag that seemed to materialize in front of my face. 

      A twitch here and there escalated to a numb limb, a numb cheek. My head felt fuzzy. I was being pushed back onto the stretcher just as my eyes rolled into my skull. For a few more seconds, I could feel every muscle in my body constrict, my back arched and just like that, I was in the thralls of a full-fledged grand mal seizure. 

Michael's POV: 

     "Ashton Irwin, he was brought in by ambulance. Where is he?" I asked immediately upon entering the emergency room doors, Calum, Luke, and Matt right behind me. I was running. I tried to skid to a stop but ended up slamming my midsection straight into the countertop of the reception desk. I gasped for breath, the wind knocked out of me from the impact. 

      "Mike!"

      "Jesus! Sir, are you alright?" The receptionist jumped up and gripped my shoulder. I nodded and coughed with a tight grip around the impact site.

      "Just- fine… please, just tell-tell me about my- brother," I repeated, my voice thick from pain. She nodded and sat back down. 

     "What was the name again?" I repeated his name and she typed it into the computer. "It says he only arrived ten minutes ago. There wouldn't be any information available right now,"

      "There's got to be something," I protested, not wanting to believe the woman before me.

      "I'm sorry, sir. Nothing has been put into the system. It's too soon for the doctor to have input anything. You said he came by ambulance, correct?" I nodded.

     "Yeah, that's right,"

     "Then I apologize, but they are more than likely still evaluating him. You guys would need to wait," I sighed and thanked her. I turned around and hung my head. 

     We all walked to the chairs in the waiting room and sat down. I was rubbing the spot just below my rib cage. "Mike, are you sure you are alright? You hit that counter pretty fuckin' hard," Luke questioned, leaning forward in his seat beside me to look me in the eyes. I glanced his way.

      "Yeah," I mumbled, letting out an airy chuckle. "Just a bit sore is all," he hummed.

     There was a long silence before he spoke up again. "Mmm- I hate hospitals," Luke swallowed hard. It was just then that I noticed that his clasped hands were shaking. 

      "Are-Are you alright?" He nodded, inhaling sharply, wrapping his arms around his stomach. It was almost as if he was trying to cower away from something. His stomach growled suddenly, loud enough to be heard over the telly we were under.

     "Are you hungry?" Matt asked him, his tone mildly accusational. Luke's face turned cherry-tomato-red. 

      "Uh- n-no. I'm feeling a bit sick actually. Hospitals just make me nervous," he explained. I huffed, not knowing whether or not to buy into it. It's not like he was doing a very great job at hiding the fact that he hadn't been eating- or purging when he does... To anyone else who hadn't witnessed it over the course of time, it may have really seemed like it was well and truly just nerves.

      "You should probably have some soup or something. We could take you to the cafeteria. We should all eat something to be fair. It's been several hours since any of us have had anything," Calum offered. I watched this whole thing go down and saw Luke's skin visibly pale at the mere mention of food.

      "That settles it then. Let's go," Matt said, standing up. He held out his hand for Luke to take. Reluctantly, Luke did so, allowing Matt to lead him to the hospital cafeteria. 

      Just as we were about to enter the doors, Luke stopped. He let go of Matt's hand to grip his stomach, his other hand going to his head. His skin grew the color of curdled milk and he staggered. 

Luke's POV:

      I was trying to mask how bad I felt, putting up a facade. It was just nerves. And, yeah, It was a bold-faced lie because I didn't want anyone to know the truth. The hunger pains were excruciating. It was causing a tremor in my voice and hands. I was getting weaker. It was getting bad enough I could feel my body giving way.

      The thought of putting anything into my stomach repulsed me, but the lads all insisted. By the time we made it to the cafeteria, I was worse off than I ever was. I groaned as I swayed. I heard my name being called and felt myself being pulled inside the cafeteria. I stumbled dizzyingly behind whoever it was that was pulling me. I looked around, the bright lights assaulting my eyes. My vision blurred and black dots shrouded my vision. My knees gave out and the hand gripping my bicep tightened as I fell limp. 

      I was only truly unconscious for a few seconds, but I felt too weak to even open my eyes. Despite still being semi-conscious, I had no control over my body. I could hear everything happening around me, even envision it. I tried to move, but was too weak. My breathing picked up as panic coursed through my veins. 'Fuck! This isn't fun anymore…' I internally screamed. I just wanted to lose weight, but it was at a cost to my health. 

     Footsteps rushed towards me. "I'm a doctor. What happened?" The mystery person questioned. The boys frantically explained what happened, their words jumbling together as they spoke over each other. I felt the man's presence just above me before he checked my pulse, heart rate, and all that shit that doctors do. 

      I squeezed my eyelids tighter together, having still not yet opened them. "G-Go 'way," I mumbled, weakly bringing a hand up to bat the man away.

      "Jesus, Luke! You scared the shit out of us!" Calum yelled. My eyes opened a sliver, just enough to let me see blurred shapes of my bandmates and band manager standing above me, along with the doctor that ran over when I collapsed.

      "I'm fine. I don't need your help," I spat. The doctor backed off. Matt and Calum helped me sit up while Michael went to grab something from the line. My body was trembling harshly. I held my head in my hands, trying to take deep breaths to rid myself of the hunger pains and the ghost of nausea creeping up on me. I groaned lowly. 

       "Here," I looked up and Michael stood before me holding out a water bottle and a banana. I grabbed the bottle and lowered it to my lap. I wanted to thank him, but my throat was tightening at the threat of a gag. I swallowed compulsively. I held my other hand over my lips and turned my head to the side so that it was no longer over my legs. "Luke?" I shut my eyes again. "Hey, are you going to throw up?" Michael's hand landed on my back. I shrugged.

       "I'll grab something, just in case," I heard Matt say. Calum walked behind me and sat down.

      "Let's get him to a secluded area with no prying eyes," Michael said, glancing around. Apparently, a lot of people were staring at me. They got me to a table in the corner of the cafeteria. Matt must have seen it because he appeared with a bin a moment later. "Can you try to eat this banana? I'm sure you'll feel better once you've got something in your system," Michael placed it in front of me. I shielded my eyes from the sight of it. My mouth was rapidly filling with saliva just thinking about food. I want to eat, but I just can’t.

       I shot over the bin with a sudden dry heave. My cheeks flushed. I knew people were staring at me with disgust. I, more than likely, just ruined everyone's meal. I heaved, bringing up almost nothing. My stomach wrung itself dry in two violently painful heaves. I panted and looked up, confirming the glares I knew were there. 

      "Fucking hell… that's embarrassing," I sighed, my voice raspy. I wrapped an arm around my stomach. It hurt even worse after vomiting. I dropped my head onto the table with a thud.

     "I know the last thing you want to do right now is eat, but you've got to try, Luke," Michael said again. I growled, lifting my head, rubbing my forehead with my sweaty palm.

     "I do not want it," I was growing frustrated again. I wasn't sure why.

      "No, Luke, you need to eat something," fuck frustration, I was pissed. 

      "God, Michael, just shut the fuck up already!" I screamed over him, standing up and slamming my hand against the tabletop. Calum and Matt gawked at me whilst Michael's face showed pure rage. They just didn’t get it.

      "Don't you fucking dare talk over me like that!" Michael yelled, his voice sounding more demonic than that of a man. He grabbed me by my collar, causing me to flinch. "We are all tired of this bullshit, Luke! You are an adult. Act like it. Grow the fuck up and quit acting like a fucking dick!" He shook me. I pushed him away, my jaw clenched tight. It was then that I noticed people staring wide eyed at us.

     "I'm leaving," I sighed. I could tell that I was not wanted there.

     "No, Luke, don't go," Calum sighed, trying to lightly hold onto my wrist. I just shook my head and high-tailed it out of there. I needed a moment to breathe.

Matt's POV:

     "Was all that really necessary, Mike?" I asked him, placing a hand on his shoulder. He shrugged it off, clearly still angered by Luke's actions. "Look I understand this has been going on for a while, but that doesn't mean you should treat him like this," Michael rolled his eyes and plopped back down in his seat.

      "He hasn't been eating, Matt. It's been going on for several months now. Basically since the start of the tour. And you expect us to sit idly by and watch him wither away? I don't know what to do… none of us do," Michael explained. I sighed, picking up the chair that Luke had so carelessly tipped in his outburst. I sat down in it, trying to take everything in. The situation as a whole was overwhelming to me. I couldn't imagine how the boys were taking everything.

     "I'm just upset that I wasn’t told at the start. If I had been, I could've encouraged Luke to go to therapy or talked to him myself," They both shrugged. I was at a loss. I huffed, "Well, let's eat. I'm sure you guys are hungry. I'll pay," I offered. 

     "Sure, I guess," Calum murmured. Michael ran his hands through his hair.

     "Mike?" He looked up at me through his eyelashes.

     "I'm not hungry, thanks though," I cocked my head at him.

     "I'm not taking 'no' for an answer. I don't need another one of you lads passing out on my watch," I expressed. 

    "Fine," Michael caved.

     We ate rather quickly, not wanting to miss the doctor's call. I grabbed the banana in hopes I could get Luke to eat it at some point. I thought there was a chance he would have listened to me.

      Since we had been gone for around an hour, I went up to the counter and asked about Ashton. There wasn't much change, just that he was admitted and his doctor would hopefully be out in a bit. I nodded and turned, nearly bumping into Calum. He walked around me and walked back over to where I previously stood.

     "Ashton requests that he have the same doctor as before. I believe her name was Dr. Mukherjee," the charge nurse typed something into her computer.

      "I apologize, but she isn't in at the moment. I did put it in the notes though. Once she is in, she will take over," He nodded and thanked her.

     We walked back over to the waiting area. "We should text Luke, try to get him to come back," Calum suggested as he sat next to a sulking Michael. 

     "Yep, I got it,"I agreed and pulled out my phone. 

____________________________________

To Luke:

Hey mate, where you at?

—

From Luke:

Out.

—

To Luke:

I'm gonna need a little more than that, bud.

—

From Luke:

Right outside the hospital. I needed a fuckin breather.

—

To Luke:

Could ypu come back?

You*

—

From Luke:

Not of I've got to talk to him.

—

To Luke:

Luke…

—

From Luke:

Please don't "Luke…" me I'm not a kid despite what he says and rhinks.

—

To Luke:

Youre right. You're not. I apologize if it cMe across as if i was implementing that.

—

From Luke:

Why do you want me to come back?

I really don't want to.

—

To Luke:

The doctor should be coming down soon with news on ashtons condition. 

That and honestly, I want you and Michael to talk.

—

From Luke:

The ONLY reason I'll come back is to see Ashton. Let ne know when we can go up. I'm NOT talking to Michael right now or anytime soon.

—

To Luke:

Come on… mate.

—

From Luke:

No.

I'll say this again. I'm not coming up until we can go see Ashton.

I'm not going to talk to Michael. There won't be will only be conflict between us right now and quite frankly I don't want to deal with that shit right now.

WTF did I just type??? Whatever you get it.

—

To Luke:

Ya i do. 

Ok fine. Ill tell you when we can go up there.

____________________________________

     "I'm going to have to talk to both of you later, but he's not coming until we can go see Ashton. When we do, I do not want you to start something. I know he's being an ass, but we just need to be here for Ashton, not down each other's throats," Michael stayed silent and nodded again. I glanced at Calum, who shrugged.

     When the doctor finally came down, I asked if I could call Luke and have him come down before he told us anything. He said it was fine so I did that. Luke walked in a few moments later, his eyes red-rimmed and puffy. He had clearly been crying. 

     That was when I gave Ashton's mum a call. She answered at the first ring. 

     It wasn't good news. Ashton had to be rushed to the ICU and put into a medically induced coma. I felt myself grow shaky and the boys all sobbed. The sounds of Anne's cries came in through the speaker. Of all the years I had known these boys, that had been the first time I'd ever heard her break.

     The staff allowed all of us temporary access to Ashton room. For two hours, all of us were able to be in there at once.