"What, can't be worse then what I've done"

"We think Ashton's been kidnapped"

*****

Ashton's body flew into darkness, constant bumps and jerks causing him to bounce around. It hurt him, and he didn't even know where he was.

His eyes were open, yet covered in darkness, his mouth was gagged and hands bound. Ashton figured he must've been in the back of a vehicle, as he heard the faint engine. His head was hurting from repeatedly being slammed against the walls, and his whole body hurt, but for a different reason.

The memories from the party filtered back, and Ashton realized what was happening. After the party, they'd shoved him into a van, and the worst part was, he couldn't remember who.

The only thing he remembered was the pain...they'd hit him so hard, and now that he focused his attention, he felt the sharp pains shooting up his ribs.

Yet it was incomparable to the pain in his hips...he was sore and hurt, and knew he'd find his own blood dried on his body. He would find handprints and scratches, hickeys he didn't want.

They had raped Ashton.

Ashton distinctly remembered how roughly they'd done it, and he'd felt as if he were being torn apart. Ashton remembered feeling the blood that ran down his legs, tears seeping through the blindfold.

He didn't want anyone to touch him ever again.

He felt more tears struggle to escape under the tight blindfold, not noticing the van halt and his body being picked up and thrown.

Ashton landed roughly on the gravel, feeling it dig into the side of his face. His body was roughly pulled across the ground, muffled screams leaving him.

The pain was nearly intolerable, but Ashton was trying his best to stay calm. It was when he felt his clothes roughly being ripped off and two fingers inside of him that he screamed again.

Tears were streaming down his face, and muffled sobs left him, every part of him aching. His vision began to blur, and it was far too much for him, and as everything faded, Ashton's body fell limp against the ground.

*****

Ashton woke up again, it far more pain than before. Every part of him was achy, and everything below his hips felt as if it were on fire.

He wanted to cry, and his mind was fuzzy, vision clouded. Ashton felt weak, his limbs numb and liquid. He found himself able to breathe better, and noticed that despite the ache, he could move his mouth, and it bought him some sense of calm. He let out a few ragged breaths, before deciding that he wasn't blindfolded either, and was just in a dark space.

One wrist was free, the other however, was cuffed to what felt like a pole. Ashton jerked it a few times, the metal digging into his wrist, and fuck it hurt.

Partially because he'd broken that same wrist weeks ago, and partially because the rough metal triggered sudden memories he hadn't thought back to for years now.

He started crying again, remembering those late nights trapped in his bedroom, when he sliced his arms and marked them up.

Ashton had moved on from that, and had learned to love himself. But now, he was triggered, suddenly feeling his throat tighten, and lungs unable to function.

He couldn't breathe.

Ashton couldn't fucking breathe and right now, he needed Luke. He didn't care what Luke had done, he needed comforting arms, and didn't need any of this.

His body racked with sobs, until he'd cried every tear he had. Ashton's head pounded and his body lay weakly on the hard ground, unable to function.

Ashton couldn't control his breathing however, and it came out uneven and ragged. He called out for help, throat parched and words barley coherent.

"H-help me p-please"

*****

"H-he was wearing a black and white checkered button up. Black jeans, black boots. His hair is honey but is dyed black. H-he has the most beautiful smile, a-"

"Alright, hold on. Did he have any form of defence on him? Swiss Army knife, anything?"

"N-no...he might've had car keys?"

"Car keys? Ok, so someone could've used his car to take him...which car and what licence plate?"

Luke let Michael answer this question, letting his own head drop into his hands. He was still hungover, and was currently sitting in a police station. He wasn't complaining, because fuck, Ashton was far more important than Luke's hangover, but his pounding head didn't help the situation.

Calum was back at Andrews, because he had also seen Ashton leave, and was helping the field team collect evidence. Luke and Michael were taken for questioning, which wasn't going over too well. Luke could tell they weren't being very helpful, as they'd been impaired, and was so disappointed in himself. He'd really let down Ashton.

"Mr. Hemmings?"

"Y-yea?"

"Could Ashton Irwin have had a reason to run away? Was there any domestic violence, or any chance of an-"

"No! We were doing ok, I went and fucked everything up, I went and kissed someone else because I was drunk and thought it was him! I-"

"Alright, calm down, don't worry. We're working on it, and will do everything in our power to find Ashton"

Luke doesn't remember after that. He remembers crying, so much, that Michael had carried him inside. First he'd went and hurt Ashton, and then he'd let Ashton get kidnapped. He hadn't even cared and in that moment, he felt like the worst boyfriend in existence.

Maybe he was.

*****

No means no.

Consent is key.

Point being, Ashton was currently screaming in pain, and begging for them to stop fucking him, but they refused to listen.

They'd been going at it for at least an hour, and Ashton was so sensitive, and in so much pain. The overstimulation was bad enough without them repeatedly hitting him and forcing him to orgasm, even when he'd run dry.

Ashton had never once moaned in pleasure, or asked for more, and the way they roughly fucked him before tossing him aside practically broke him.

In a matter of an hour, Ashton had gone from being weak to no longer being able to move, and even breathing felt like an effort.

Everything hurt.

So fucking bad.