Salvation

Alan's eyelids felt like lead and he didn't know where he was. After a few attempts he groggily opened his eyes, letting his gaze drift around the room. He took in his surroundings: he was on the bus, he was cocooned in his favorite fleece blanket from his bunk, and Austin was at the end of the couch he was laying on with Alan's feet in his lap, cheek pressed against his fist as he boredly stared at the television.

Alan inhaled fully, making the I'm-waking-up-this-sucks noise in the process. He lifted his hand to his face and rubbed his eye. Austin perked up at the movement and looked over to Alan, exhaling in relief. But when Alan curled up into a tight ball, pulling his legs away from Austin, his sigh of relief turned into that of exasperation. But he let it go. For now.

"Alan, how do you feel?" Austin whispered, standing from the couch and walking over to where Alan's head was, crouching beside him. He brushed a few strands of ginger hair from his forehead, frowning softly.

"Heavy," Alan mumbled, staring blankly at the ceiling. He always felt heavy, but this was different. Not fat heavy, tired heavy. "What happened?"

"You had a panic attack on the roof and passed out. Scared the shit out of me," Austin chuckled humorlessly, biting his lip. "Alan, it's 3 in the morning.. I need to talk to you later, but you need to go back to sleep, okay? Get some rest. I know you haven't been able to lately," Austin sighed, rising to his feet and slipping his arms underneath Alan's thin, frail figure.

Alan's eyes blew wide and he immediately wiggled free from Austin's grip, falling back onto the couch. He was agile and alert now, despite the perpetual fog in his mind from lack of nourishment. "I-I can get to bed," he said quickly, standing shakily. He refused to let anyone so much as touch him, much less carry him. He was too fat for that.

Austin nodded slightly, unsure why he thought Alan would let him take care of him when conscious. Alan was jumpy and treated him like fire these days. It hurt him, but Alan was going through something that he wouldn't let the elder understand.

"Fine. Go get in bed and I'll bring you a glass of water," Austin mumbled, turning and walking to the tiny bus kitchenette.

Alan swallowed dryly, silently grateful for Austin's help. He drug his blanket over to his bunk and pushed it into the small space, crawling onto the thin mattress and curling up into a tight ball of Alan, as he did every night. It made him feel safe.

After a few moments of staring at the bunk wall he frowned. There wasn't a firm pressing against his lower stomach from his hoodie pocket. He flicked his gaze down and slipped his hand into the pocket, eyes widening when he realized the small box wasn't there.

Austin set the glass of water on the shelf in Alan's bunk and sighed softly, pulling the fleece blanket up around Alan's taut shoulders. "I have the box. I'll keep it safe for you, I know it's important. Please just try to sleep well for me, just for tonight," Austin whispered, leaning down and pressing his lips to the shell of Alan's ear.

Tears welled in Alan's eyes and he stayed deathly still, almost letting out a whimper when Austin kissed him. He flinched when he heard the bunk curtain slide shut and creaking from Austin's bunk, meaning he must've gone to bed. Alan began trembling and he buried his face in the pillow that had once belonged to Austin, but Alan had somehow procured along the way.

He missed his metallic friends already.

---

Austin had made sure that the rest of the band hadn't woken Alan, and denied their invitation to go out for lunch(On off days the group generally woke around that time). Austin had barely slept, staring at the small box practically the entire night. He knew Alan used to self-harm, but he was convinced that his addiction had since been knocked. It all made sense now. Alan always layered long sleeve shirts and hoodies and hadn't worn his holey jeans in months. Austin just wished he'd have noticed sooner, because now he was scared shitless.

Alan didn't sleep at all, guilty that he couldn't meet Austin's expectations of a soothing sleep but also terrified of what his nightmares would do to him. But instead of leaving his bunk when everyone else did, he laid there until 1 in the afternoon. Eventually, though, he groggily rose and kept his blanket draped around himself, burying his nose in the soft fleece. His ginger hair was sticking up in all directions and the bags under his eyes were dark as ever.

He slumped into the booth across from Austin in the kitchenette, curling his knees against his chest and wrapping the blanket tighter around himself. He avoided eye contact with the elder, instead letting his gaze focus on the faux marble pattern of the tabletop separating them. He didn't acknowledge the tin box situated symmetrically on the table, or how tired Austin looked.

"Morning," Austin practically exhaled the word when Alan sat silently for at least a minute. He craned his neck to try to be in Alan's line of sight, giving up when Alan turned his head to look out the window. "Alan, you have to talk to me."

Alan turned his head to Austin. His face was blank. Not angry, not sad. Just blank. And he looked so [i*]exhausted[/i*] that pained Austin just to look at him. He wanted to fold the boy into his arms and whisper that it'd be okay a million times, even if it wasn't true. "Alan, when did you start cutting again?" Austin asked in the softest tone he could manage.

"Four months."

If Austin was drinking something, he would've choked. Alan had started being distant three months ago, so this was going on undetected for an entire month.

"Why?" was all Austin could ask, his eyes big and scared. He desperately wanted his friend to be okay, he'd do anything for it, but he didn't know if he was even allowed to call Alan that anymore.

Alan laughed bitterly and shook his head, looking down. "Stop acting like you care. It's getting ridiculous."

And Alan said it with such conviction that it ripped Austin's heart in two.

"Is that really what you think..?"

"It's true, Austin. You don't give a shit about me. No one does. I'm so tired of this, I'm so fucking tired."

"Tired of what?"

"Living."

Tears welled in Austin's eyes and he shoved his face into his hands, his elbows digging into his knees. A sob tore through him and he sputtered, attempting and failing to form words. He loved Alan so fucking much that it almost killed him to see him in this state, to know that the boy thought he hated him.

But before Austin could voice how much the ginger meant to him, Alan was on his feet and snatching the tin box. He slipped his feet into his Toms and bolted from the bus.

Alan heard Austin's calls grow quieter and quieter as he ran, he didn't expect the elder to come after him. He knew he wouldn't.

[i*]Of course he won't, stupid! He doesn't give a flying fuck about you, why the hell would he chase your fat ass?![/i*]

But for once, the voices were wrong.

The wind was knocked out of Alan when Austin tackled him to the ground. And then the voices were quiet.

[b*]Eight Months Before Alan Knew:[/b*]

The band were in a hotel room that night, a luxury that they didn't often get. They decided to hang around in L.A. a few days after the concert because Alan loved it so much, which was why the entire band was so confused and nervous as to why the ginger hadn't even dipped a toe into the ocean today and had opted to stay in the hotel room all night. Phil, Tino, and Jon had all decided to go out but Austin had declined the invitiation that was extended to him, determined to get to the root of his bestfriend's reluctance to participate.

Alan and Austin shared a room, as always, with the rest of the band in their own room. It was just how things always were, and no one questioned it. Austin opened the heavy hotel room door and poked his head around the tiny entrance hall. A frown played across his lips when he saw his ginger princess curled up in the tiny chair at the table in the corner of the room, staring out the bay window into the twinkling city.

"Allycat? You alright tonight?" Austin called softly, stepping fully into the room and walking over to Alan, ever the concerned friend.

Alan looked over to Austin and smiled sadly, looking down at the nondescript carpet. "Yeah, I'm fine," he replied softly, threading his finger absentmindedly through the strings of the holes in his light skinny jeans. He wore a loose T-shirt, as all of his shirts were. Nothing out of the ordinary. But he refused to change into swim trunks and join his friends in the ocean, partly because he didn't even pack any and partly because of his own reasons.

"How come you didn't wanna swim today?" Austin asked, sitting down on the window sill just beside Alan's chair, his knee brushing against Alan's toes that were curled over the edge of the seat. Alan moved his arm to wrap around his knees. He rested his chin in the pit of his elbow, his nose nestled at the top of it.

"It doesn't matter.. I'm fine, Aust. Really," Alan mumbled into his arm, eyes downcast.

"It does matter. I missed you. It would've been fun, I wanted to splash your dumb face," Austin laughed softly, shoving Alan's knee playfully.

Alan smiled softly and lifted his chin to rest on his folded forearms. "I don't like swimming."

Austin frowned slightly and leaned forward on his knees. "Do you not know how to swim?" he asked, concerned. "That's nothing to be emba-"

"No, it's not that," Alan sighed, pressing his cheek into his arm. "I don't like wearing swim trunks. And a wet shirt looks dumb."

"Why can't you take your shirt off?" Austin's eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

Alan huffed and hid his face in his hands, sinking back into the chair. "Because... Because I'm fat and I have a bunch of scars and it looks so bad and I hate taking my shirt off ever and just..." Alan shook his head quickly and in that moment he wanted to disappear.

Realization sparked in Austin's eyes and he exhaled slowly, shaking his head. "Oh, princess," he mumbled, standing and sliding his arms around Alan. "C'mere," he cooed, lifting Alan easily into his arms. At this point in Alan's life he was a healthy weight, but he ate like a bird. Not abnormally enough for anyone to notice, but still.

Alan whimpered when Austin picked him up, worried that he was too fat, but not worried enough to wriggle away. He loved when Austin held him, or was affectionate in general. They were bestfriends, after all.

"Here, look," Austin spoke softly and tenderly, carfully setting Alan on the edge of the queen sized bed that was across the room from a full length mirror. He stood in front of Alan and took the edge of his shirt into his hands, lifting it over the ginger's head carefully. Alan was hesitant, but didn't stop Austin.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Alan mumbled, looking away as his cheeks burned furiously. Austin gazed at the boy below him, practically smitten.

"Because you're beautiful," Austin whispered honestly, crouching in front of Alan so he could see over his head into the mirror. Austin smiled softly and rested his cheek on Alan's knee. "Look in the mirror, Alan."

Alan swallowed nervously as he let his tentative gaze drift over to the mirror, tears welling in his eyes at what he saw. His stomach was littered in white slashes of varying lengths and widths, all reminders of his tumultuous and unsafe childhood. "Not beautiful. Disgusting," Alan whispered brokenly, bringing a hand up to his face as he whimpered.

Austin frowned deeply and shook his head, lifting his hand and pulling Alan's hand down. "No, listen, princess. It's beautiful that there's no fresh ones. It's beautiful because it's a symbol that you overcame it. It's shitty that it happened, it really is. It's awful and no one should ever go through it. But you beat it, Allycat. You're here. And it's beautiful because it's you," Austin whispered, tangling his fingers with Alan's. He lifted his free hand and brushed a tear away from his cheek with his thumb, smiling lopsidedly.

Alan watched Austin with big doe eyes and parted lips, listening closely to every word. It was like the floodgates broke and he flung himself towards Austin, looping his arms around the elder's neck and pressing his nose into the hollow of his shoulder.

Neither man said anything as Austin lifted them both up, hands firmly holding underneath Alan's thighs. Alan nuzzled deeper into Austin's neck, sighing microscopically. Austin walked over to the light and turned it off, laying Alan down in the bed. He chuckled when Alan didn't release his hold on his neck and kicked his shoes off, climbing onto the bed next to Alan. Austin reached over and grabbed the remote, turning on the television for background noise(that was how Alan always fell asleep) and tossed the remote aside. He tugged the covers over them both and slid his arms back around Alan, holding the small of his back. He couldn't see Alan's face, but he knew his eyes were closed. His nose rested on Alan's shoulder and he smiled against his skin when Alan tangled his legs with Austin's.

"Goodnight, my beautiful princess," Austin whispered to his bestfriend.