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.

*****

Luke woke up with a start, damps curls sticking to his face, sweaty shirt stuck to his chest in a similar manner.

His head pounded, and he suddenly couldn't sleep any longer. That stupid dream he had, on the plane ride back to LA...fuck, it all made sense now.

The unreal events in the dream, where Luke nearly got raped, when Ashton told Luke not to hurt him...had Luke really known all this was going to happen? The thought of Ashton being hurt and touched unwillingly caused Luke's heart to break, and suddenly he needed Ashton. He needed to hold Ashton, and protect him from the rest of the world.

Luke held back choked sobs, and dropped back onto the bed, empty and alone without Ashton's warmth. Luke couldn't stand the fact that he was here, laying in the comfort of his bed, surrounded by people he trusted, while poor Ashton was nowhere near as safe.

Luke lay like that a moment longer, before slowly moving out of his bed, eyes tired and drooping. He found his phone and fumbled with the flashlight, until it blinked on, the white light casting a beam across the room.

Luke used it to guide his way outside, before gently knocking on Michael's door. He heard hushed whispers, before Calum opened the door, smiling sadly at Luke.

Luke sniffled and let his eyes fall to the ground, before Calums comforting hand lead him to the bed.

Michael shifted and made space for Luke, and he crawled between them, letting his tears silently fall as Michael and Calum gently rubbed his back and lulled him to sleep.

*****

Ashton squinted as a beam of light cut through the darkness in the room. The door he'd seen his captors leave and enter from opened for the first time since yesterday, and Ashton bit back tears.

They'd long removed the cuffs, and he was too weak to move towards the door, so he could do nothing except lean back against the cold wall.

He had sort of figured out who his captors were, and how they looked, their image ingrained into Ashton's head.

Ashton whimpered as they approached closer, dropping a tray beside him. The glass of water shook and some splashed out, but they didn't care, instead slamming the door behind them as they left. Ashton moved his hands in the darkness, gripping the glass before he brought it up to his mouth.

He sipped a little from it, before he grabbed a torn piece of his shirt, soaking it in the liquid.

Ashton gently patted the cuts on his body, attempting to soothe the bleeding wounds, before he wrapped the bit of material around a particularly deep gash on his wrist.

Ashton sighed and drank a little more from the glass, before pouring the rest over his head, the cool water bringing some relief to his headache.

Had they not cared to keep him alive and feed him, Ashton would've been long dead, and a lot weaker than he was. He now shakily reached for the stale bread and stiff butter, attempting to tear the loaf.

It broke and fell into the tray with a loud clunk, as it was hard, and barley edible. It was food however, and Ashton was not to be picky. Ashton chewed off what he could, trying to moisten the bread with his own salvia, enough that he could swallow it.

It took a few moments, but he managed to do it, and within what felt like an hour, he had finished what he could, as usual, stashing the butter behind loose planks.

He knew they wouldn't melt in the temperature of the room, but if they did, they'd at least become edible. If they remained hard, he may use them to his advantage later on. It was wishful thinking and probably the most focused thoughts Ashton had thus far.

Considering how numb and tired Ashton was, he was surprised he even knew where he was.

More than once Ashton had passed out, and a few times had woken up to sharp pains in his lower region, from being repeatedly raped.

New wounds opened everyday, and more blood, more than Ashton knew was healthy left his body.

They hadn't touched him in over a day, which did scare him, because he didn't know what they planned on doing, but it gave him some form of hope.

Perhaps they'd grown tired of him?

Ashton knew he needed more time to formulate a plan of sorts, more time to gain strength, and if they weren't constantly hurting him, he'd be able to achieve it.

His ribs still felt like they were on fire, and every breathe brought tremendous pain, but now, he could at least shift himself without breaking down into tears.

Beyond all his pain, Ashton had way too much time to think.

It had all replayed very clearly in his mind, and he repeatedly found himself shook awake with nightmares. When he got sleep, which hadn't happened in what felt like days.

He'd stormed out after Luke, and fell on the sidewalk sobbing. He remembered how much it had hurt, seeing his own boyfriend call him gross.

He hadn't even noticed the men pull up, and had barely gotten a chance to scream, because they'd grabbed him and thrown him carelessly into their van.

Thinking back, Ashton wasn't even mad at Luke anymore. For fucks sake, Luke said he loved him, didn't he? And Luke wouldn't lie, especially when it came to Ashton. Luke had never lied to Ashton.

It must've been a drunk mistake.

After Ashton finally managed to convince himself, it made him crave Luke even more. Luke always respected Ashton. Luke never pushed Ashton too far, and right now, Ashton needed Luke's arms around him.

Ashton's mind felt clouded, so he shut his eyes, before they snapped open.

His phone.

His motherfucking phone.

Ashton had no clue where it was, because he certainly didn't have it on him.

Maybe he'd dropped it before he'd been taken. Maybe they'd taken it. Nonetheless, Ashton finally had a little glimmer of hope.

He prayed that his phone could somehow lead them too him, because Ashton needed to get away from here.

*****