XLII
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Crystal's POV ***

[flashback] *

I woke up the heaviest I'd ever felt in my life. My head was pounding so hard that it felt like it was going to burst, and my lungs barely had the strength to move enough to bring in air. It felt like a 1000 pound weight had been placed directly on top of me. My eyelids finally lifted open, and after a few moments of blinking to clear my vision, I saw that I was in the back of my car in my driveway.

Everything in my body was aching beyond belief, and the palm of my hand was burning. I finally mustered the strength to sit up and look at it, remembering that I had cut my hand when I was drunk in my bathroom. I swore as I took in how infected the blood-covered wound already was.

And then I took in all of the bruises that lined my body, remembering where I got them, and why I felt so mortifyingly violated. I couldn't stop coughing, my throat painfully soar and scraped up as a few tears slipped out of my eyes.

'You're so drunk you won't even remember this,' he had told me.

He was wrong.

I remembered all of it. Even after I blacked out, I for some reason remembered the sensations of everything he did to me. Everything. There weren't quite any words to describe how gross and just dead I felt. The memories flashed into my mind aggressively, and I sobbed.

He was mad that he hadn't succeeded a year ago. That was probably why he had used me for so long tonight. And then he must have driven here and put me in my car after he was done.

The sun was just rising, and it took all of the remaining strength I had in me to carry my shell of a body out of my car and into my house. No one was awake yet. I finally made it to my bathroom, and immediately started throwing up.

It must have been a few hours later that I stopped shaking enough to pick myself up from the floor and slug over to my closet, tears streaming down my face. I grabbed the three-quarters-full bottle of vodka and clambered into my shower fully clothed, turning on the shower and sinking down onto the floor, my tears mixing with the warm water.

As I laid there sobbing, I chugged the burning liquid for as long as I could with each swig, intending on finishing the entirety of the large bottle... and not particularly caring if I ended up dying from it. I was out cold again in no time.

[end of flashback] *

It was my breathing I felt first, a shaky rising and falling of my chest. And then it was the beeping of monitors. Then, I felt a few things that were attached to my arms, and then the bed that I was in. After a few minutes, I finally cracked open my eyes, squinting as much as could at the insanely bright lights above me.

I could only move my eyes as I finally regained my full vision and looked around the hospital room, the subtle ringing in my ears finally subsiding. My already swollen eyes teared up as I looked over and saw Ashton and my mom asleep on two chairs. She was resting against him as though he had been comforting her as she fell asleep. My heart squeezed at her disheveled appearance.

My body seized up as a painful cough sounded from my throat, and I winced at the burning sensation it caused. Ashton flinched awake at this, and his eyes widened when he saw that I was awake. He quickly shifted my mom off of him so that she was resting on the back of her chair before standing up and coming over to me. I was still pretty out of it, but I looked back up at him with sad eyes. I guess a part of me had hoped I died so that this moment wouldn't have to happen.

I could tell he didn't know what to say as he sat down on the side of the bed. Another tear fell down my face and he gently wiped it off. I used all the energy I could gather into raising my heavily bandaged hand to hold him, but he took my hand and brought it back down to my side.

"Just get some rest," his voice was soft and deep as he spoke quietly. I almost started crying just at how soothing it was for my soul to hear it again. He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on my forehead, his lips soft and warm against my cold skin.

"I'm sorry," I tried to say, but it came out as barely more than a brisk whisper. He shook his head and cupped my cheek carefully with his hand, wiping off another tear with his thumb.

"Just rest," he repeated himself again softly, and I listened. I stared up into his eyes and only stopped looking at them when I eventually fell back asleep.

• • •

When I woke up again, I felt slightly less heavy and groggy than I had the first time. My voice was still hoarse and painful as I spoke.

"M-mom?" She turned to look at me, her eyes instantly watering.

"Baby," she rushed to me and gave me a soft hug, careful of all my bruises. I tried to hug her back, able to move my arms more now. She cried into my hair.

When she finally pulled away, she told me everything. About how I had alcohol poisoning, and how Ashton found me unconscious in the shower. About how they weren't sure where the bruises or the cut on my hand came from, but that they were planning on asking me what I remembered when I woke up.

Ashton told me once about how much he hated hospitals with all of his being. After all the time he spent in one with his dad, he never planned on spending another night in one again. But last night he had. It was the next day already, and my mom told me he had gone home to check on Jake and Layla real quick.

She didn't have to speak the question that I read all over her expression. 'Why?'

"I'm broken, momma," my voice strained as I spoke, and some tears spilled down my cheeks, "and I was scared to tell you, because you're not broken anymore."

"Sweetie," she looked over my face, pushing back some hair from my forehead. "Don't ever think like that. Ever." I could tell she meant it with her whole heart, and it brought more tears to my eyes.

"I'm sorry," I cried, and she hugged me again. "How did you do it?" She pulled back to look at me, "how did you stop drinking?" I breathed out, and her brows lowered in sadness.

"It didn't just go away, you know. I still work every single day to stay sober. Every day," she started, and I looked at her a little confused. I realized just then that I never talked with her enough about this gigantic part of her life. She wasn't just my mother.. she was Paige Summers- a real person who deserved real support from me, the person who knew her most.

"Do you know what one of the things they told me to do at rehab was? To see your face every time I picked up a glass of something. To imagine your eyes looking right at mine, because they knew that you were the one thing I valued over that shit," she told me, and I listened. She wasn't at all upset with me?

"I don't care if one day you think all your friends hate you, or if any boyfriend or girlfriend you might have in life hurts you, I want you to look at that glass and see my face. See me begging you to not make my same mistakes. Don't turn into what I became. If you do, then I might as well have failed with my life completely," she begged, yet somehow was still really comforting me.

"We made it out the other side, baby. And we can stay out here. Together." She finished, and I drew in another shaky breath as more tears slipped from both of our eyes. "It's what your father would have wanted."

"I love you, mom," my voice shook as I spoke.

"I love you more," she replied and leaned to hug me again. "Don't ever leave me. Please." She whispered. We stayed together for a few moments.

"Okay," I whispered back, and actually meant it.

When the door to the room opened, we pulled away and looked over to see a wide-eyed Ashton. My heart dropped a little.

"I'll let you two talk. I should probably eat something," my mom wiped her face and stood up, walking over to the door. Once it was just me and him, he finally came over to the bed.

"Don't I look pretty," I batted my eyelashes, and he laughed as he sat down on the side.

"Beautiful," he corrected, and I felt the tears start to build up, even though I was willing them away.

"What did they tell you?" I asked him, wondering if he knew about what had happened to me.

"Alcohol poisoning. They said they thought that your bruises were accidentally self-inflicted, and same with the cut on your hand," he told me, but then his hesitant, deep eyes met mine, "but that's not really what happened, is it?"

I couldn't help it as my face scrunched a little and tears started streaming down my face, the internally violated feeling returning at full force when I so much as thought about what had happened to me. Everything he had done. I remembered it all so vividly.

"What happened, Crystal?" He shifted closer to me, his hand on my arm to try and comfort me.

"H-he found me, Ash," I finally was able to choke out, and he looked like he was trying really hard to put the pieces together himself so that I didn't have to say everything myself.

"Who?"

"George," saying his name out loud caused another ping of pain in my chest, "I-Iwas drunk a-and walking outside and he f-found me and he..." I trailed off, not able to say the rest just yet. It hurt too much to even fully think about or comprehend everything that happened. I had the physical wounds to remind me of it all, though.

"No," he whispered under his breath, reacting in disbelief. A tear fell down his cheek. "Did, did he...?"

I nodded, and he shook his head before he put his face in his hand, rubbing his eyes and then turning his expression back to me. I let out a little sob and he looked like he didn't know what to do. He looked scared to touch me, as if it would hurt me.

I brought up my hand and wrapped it around his, bringing his hand it to my heart and him with it. I completely disregarded any pain I had as I then threw my arms around him and just sobbed.

I was probably hurting him with how tightly I was squeezing and how hard my fingers were pressing into him. My grip was so strong and restricting that he was barely able to hug me back, but he tried anyway despite the strange angle we were at.

I could speak as my breathes wheezed out of me in between sobs and my face was buried in his neck. He let me practically squeeze the life out of him, doing more for me in that moment than any life support could.

When my crying finally died down I pulled away, and he barely pulled away- not wanting to go too far from me. His hands held onto my arms protectively, and I saw when I looked into his eyes that he had been crying, too.

"T-the things h-he d-did," I still couldn't talk, getting myself worked up again. He continued to try and comfort me, rubbing back and forth on my skin with his thumbs.

"I've got you, I've got you, you're safe now," he assured me softly, and I calmed down a little bit. We sat like that for a little while.

"I'd get you some ice cream but the nurses said you shouldn't have any yet," he told me, and I chuckled to myself.

"You are my ice cream," I replied cheesily, trying to somewhat lighten the mood. He gave me a small smile, his eyes still deeply saddened.

He no doubt felt guilty about what happened, even though it wasn't even remotely his fault at all. Knowing him, though, he was still probably blaming himself for letting it happen. We were too alike in that sense for him not to be thinking like that.

"Whatever you need, I'm here," he told me after a little while, and I nodded with appreciative eyes. "I love you"

"I love you," I replied, and he held my hand again.

"I was so scared," he admitted. "You looked dead.."

"I'm sorry," I apologized with all my heart, "I let myself slip without telling anyone, and I'm sorry."

"Don't be," he cut me off, "you slipped but you didn't fall."

He was right. I didn't fall, because he caught me right before it would have been to late for me to rise back up.

We tended to do that for each other a lot.

"Thank you," I said, for everything. For comforting my mom, for finding me in the shower, for loving me.

"Of course," he replied.

And like I'd done so often in the past, I focused on one breath at a time, and calmed myself down in the blue of his eyes.

• • •

Hey guys <3

QOTD: What little things make you feel comfortable and safe?

>>> Acoustic music and hot coffee :) and books.

Stay safe, I love you all.

And stay gorgeous,
Briella<3