Don't You Dare

"Lemme talk to her!” Jimmy demanded into the phone like a toddler.

With a soft chuckle, Brian quickly slipped out of Aubrey’s bedroom, as to not wake her, and moved into the hallway of her apartment before he whispered, “She’s sleeping, dude.”

“Ugh, that’s bullshit,” Jimmy pouted. “Wake her ass up.”

“No way,” Brian refused. “She hasn’t been sleeping well. I’m definitely not waking her up.”

The eighteen hours since Aubrey had been discharged from the hospital had been a rocky rollercoaster. Her entire schedule was off. She slept intermittently and got hungry at random times, instead of the routine breakfast, lunch, and dinner. She was wide awake in the middle of the night, cranky and moody from the pain medications, and bored from the doctor-prescribed low mobility.

“Is she feeling any better?” Jimmy wondered, relenting his demands.

“Physically, I think so,” Brian answered honestly. “But she’s pretty hopped up on pain killers so it’s hard to tell.”

“Oh god,” Jimmy laughed. “Is she saying a bunch of dumb shit?”

“Yeah, sometimes,” Brian admitted, smirking.

The story of a recent conversation with Aubrey lingered on his lips. She probably wouldn’t want anyone to know about it, buuut he wanted to share it with his best friend. Besides, it was just Jimmy...

“She’s been having really wild dreams since they weaned her off the IV and she started taking the pills instead. She dreamt we got arrested for having sex in public and she cried when she was telling me about it because they wouldn’t let her have a puppy in jail,” Brian quietly recalled into the phone.

“Sweet little baby Aubrey Cate,” Jimmy cooed at the adorableness.

“Well then she told me she practically came in her sleep because the dream about us having sex in public felt real,” Brian added. “She went into explicit detail about how hard I fucked her on a park bench.”

“Noo!” Jimmy shouted then cackled wildly. “Not sweet little baby Aubrey Cate!”

“Don’t worry, she cried about the puppy again after that,” Brian concluded.

“I’m so conflicted about how to feel,” Jimmy continued laughing.

“Do not tell her I told you about any of that,” Brian laughed.

“She’d probably be more embarrassed that she cried about the puppy than about the sex dream,” Jimmy deducted.

“Probably,” Brian chuckled again. “Either way, she’d kill me.”

“She definitely would.” Jimmy’s laughter died down.

There was a brief silence, but Brian knew what was coming by the immediate dip in Jimmy’s intonation.

“Look dude, not to get all fucking weird or anything, but I’m warning you right now - do not pull your bullshit on her when you leave this time,” Jimmy warned in a rare moment of solemnity. “Not when she’s trying to heal. And she’s probably confused as fuck about you jumping on a plane to be with her after how you left last time.”

A smile twitched on Brian’s lips as he rolled his eyes. He wanted to punch and hug Jimmy at the same time. The loyal little asshole.

“I know, man,” Brian agreed. “Things are way different this time.” And they were. He knew Aubrey had a lot on her plate and would be trying to heal, and he was also beyond grateful that she was alive. He didn’t care about anything else. Plus, he realized her brother was right - she would come around eventually. But until then, he had to let her be.

He didn’t dwell on it though, or think about it too much, because it still straight up sucked.

“They better be,” Jimmy said. “You guys have been through way too much for things to still be the same.”

"Yeah," Brian agreed, staring down the hallway at her bedroom door, mentally reliving that night. “What’s happening in the studio?”

“Ah, we put this sick riff on top of that drum demo I sent you last week,” Jimmy, who was easily redirected to a new topic, began to ramble.

Ø

Aubrey’s heart fluttered as she watched Brian move through her kitchen while she remained bundled up on the couch. The clock read 3:36 in the morning, but Brian didn’t hesitate to jump up and begin cooking an early (or late) breakfast for her when her stomach started growling in the middle of the night.

Brian had been adjusting to her strange schedule, adapting to her needs, without a single complaint. He yawned throughout the late-night movies and had to put music on while he cooked to keep him awake. He did whatever she needed, no matter how unreasonable the request was - a back scratch to help her fall asleep at noon, breakfast at 3:30 in the morning, endless amounts of fluffing pillows and refilling her water glass, and enduring her crabby remarks when she first woke up from a nap.

In a rare moment of lucidity, it hit her like a ton of bricks: she didn’t deserve him. She didn’t fucking deserve him.

She kept him at arm’s length, depriving him of a live-in girlfriend. He could have someone, anyone, at his house 24/7, waiting for him to come home from tour, ready to have sex whenever he wanted, taking care of him, adopting dogs with him, and whatever the hell else he wanted. But instead, he was there, taking care of her when she didn’t even deserve it.

An ache settled near her heart as he began softly singing along to Aretha Franklin. She couldn’t take her eyes off of him. His hair was ruffled and his feet were bare, sweatpants low on his hips below his faded black t-shirt, contrasted by the colorful ink decorating his arms. With a spatula, he shuffled the eggs around in the pan, scrambling them just the way she liked. The scene was so domestic, so perfectly placed. Her love for him so strong that she physically felt it filling her entire chest, practically to the point of pain.

“Are you singing Aretha Franklin in my kitchen at 3:30 in the morning?” She asked him with a smirk.

He whipped his head over to her in response, bringing the spatula up in front of his mouth. “Oooh, your kisses,” he sang to her, with a sassy head tilt. “Sweeter than honey! And guess what? So is my money.”

Despite the pain it caused in her ribcage, Aubrey let out a loud cackle. She needed to find her phone to record this ASAP.

“All I want you to do for me,” he continued. “is give it to me when ya get home!” He bounced his shoulders along to the beat, smiling at the fact that she was giggling wildly at him.

Maybe he could blame it on delirium, but he’d lose so much metal street cred if anyone saw him karaoke-ing the fuck out of Aretha Franklin to make his girlfriend feel better, to make her laugh, while he cooked her breakfast before the sun was even up.

Had anyone seen his balls? Did anyone check in Aubrey’s pockets? Because that’s probably where they were hiding.

When her food was ready, he plated it and brought it to her. She graciously accepted it, but first, she placed it on the table then pursed her lips at him. His mouth curved as he leaned down to kiss her. It came out as a quick peck, but she wanted more. She cupped his face to hold him closer as she kissed him once more, a little deeper than before.

“I love you,” she muttered against his mouth.

He exhaled softly, touching his forehead to hers, his eyes shut, reveling in the affection he craved from her. “I love you, too.”

An hour later, after the food had been consumed, giggles echoed throughout Aubrey’s living room at nearly five o’clock in the morning. The house was dark except for the fluttering light from the television, flickering bouts of light toward the couch where a bright-eyed Aubrey sat cross-legged beside Brian, who was sleepily slouching on the couch.

“What the fuck is this movie?” Brian wondered, chuckling at the stupidity of what he was seeing.

“It’s the Goonies,” Aubrey replied, stunned.

“It doesn’t make any sense,” Brian stated as he gestured toward the TV. “They made that poor fat kid shake his gut like an idiot before they let him inside? What’s the point of that?”

“It made you laugh, didn’t it?” Aubrey argued, glancing over at him.

Brian shrugged, looking up at her. “I guess.”

“If you didn’t grow up watching this movie, you’re not going to appreciate it,” she groaned. “But what I don’t understand is: How did you not grow up watching this movie?”

“Too busy trying to master the art of guitar so I could get chicks,” he explained.

“Loser,” Aubrey teased.

“Hey, who’s the rockstar and who’s the cripple laughing at the fat kid on TV?” Brian jabbed back, smirking up at her.

“Ooh,” Aubrey leaned away from him, clutching her chest, insulted. “That hurt worse than the drunk driver who almost kill me.”

“Still milking that, huh?” He retorted, raising his eyebrows at her joke.

Aubrey threw on a fake pout. “No mercy for me, huh?”

“Not even a little, babe,” he smirked as he gave her a quick peck on the cheek.

“Be quiet and watch the movie,” Aubrey replied with a small smile on her face.

Ø

Brian moved quietly through Aubrey’s room, packing his clothes in the dark while Aubrey slept when his phone vibrated somewhat loudly on the nightstand. He quickly moved to pick it up. Aubrey didn’t seem to stir. Thankfully.

How’s our patient doing? Lauren wondered via text message.

She’s a little out of it today. Sleeping a lot again. Brian responded.

That’s good, I guess. She needs her rest.

Yeah. Don’t forget I have to leave in an hour. He sent back with hesitation. Maybe, if Lauren forgot, she wouldn’t show up and he wouldn’t be able to leave.

I won’t forget. I’ll be there by 6 to take over doctor duties :)

Thanks, Lauren. He replied, thankful that she was keeping the tone light. And thankful that he wouldn’t have to leave Aubrey alone to fend for herself.

His arms felt heavier and heavier with each article of clothing that he shoved into his bag. He knew he couldn’t stay. He knew she couldn’t go. But it just never got easier.

“Are you leaving?” Aubrey’s soft, sad voice wondered suddenly from behind him.

Brian looked over his shoulder at her. The surprise and sadness that translated in her voice also made an appearance in her expression as she watched him. “Yeah, baby. I told you yesterday that I’d have to leave tonight. You don’t remember?”

She shook her head softly, huge tears lining the rims of her eyes. She had been overly emotional the last few days, due to all of her medications Brian assumed, and though he hated to see her cry for any reason, he had taken it all in stride. But now that he was the cause of her tears - again - it felt like pieces of his heart were flaking off.

“I gotta get back to the studio,” he said apologetically, feeling guilt and anguish creep up his esophagus when the words left his lips. How ridiculous that he was a world-famous rockstar, sold out giant arenas, his bank account loaded, yet he was still at the mercy of a record label and studio time. Hell, he was lucky that he was even able to get away for a full week.

She nodded as she sat upright, feigning understanding.

He shoved the last of his belongings into his bag then moved over to the bed, sitting in front of her. His fingers raked through her hair; his expression turned sympathetic.

“Do you want to come with me?” He asked in a whisper.

He knew, logistically, that she couldn’t. She needed to rest and recover. And he knew that she hadn’t suddenly changed her mind about running away with him either. But he couldn’t stop the words from being uttered. He couldn’t help but wonder, what if she says yes this time? Or what if she would’ve said yes and I didn’t ask? So he asked. He would always ask.

Not wanting to answer, she broke eye contact with him, looking down at a piece of lint on his sleeve, the tears finally falling down her cheeks. Did she want to? Of course. Could she? No.

The hand in her hair moved to cup her cheek while he rested his forehead on hers. He smiled gently to take the pressure off of his question. “It’s okay. You know I’m always gonna ask.”

She moved quickly to wrap her arms around his neck, sucking in a sharp breath as the sudden swift movement sent flares of pain to her torso.

“Shit, be careful, Aubrey,” Brian warned as he held her tenderly.

“Don’t leave,” she whispered desperately into his neck as she cried. Each sob elicited a jerk from her shoulders, which hurt every broken rib and bruise throughout Aubrey’s body. “I need you.”

His eyes shut and his brow furrowed in response to the pain he felt in his chest. He kissed the side of her head that he could reach and just held her to him, unable to respond. He tried to remember that the medications were making her weepy, making her feel off and different, but it wasn’t making him feel any better.

He was afraid that she would puncture a damn lung or hurt herself further, so he didn’t say another word. Not a word of admonishment, not a word of comfort, nothing. He just held her, rubbing her back until she stopped crying. He held her that way until Lauren appeared in the bedroom after letting herself in with her key.

Brian noticed when she walked in and glanced from her to the clock. It was time. He had to leave. He kissed Aubrey’s head then slowly moved back from her hold, separating their bodies. His t-shirt clung to his chest from the damp heat that had formed between their bodies.

“I have to go,” Brian said quietly as he stood.

“Brian, no,” Aubrey pleaded with a slur. Silent tears trailed down her cheeks once again. Her eyes were heavy and hooded, obvious evidence that she was half-asleep and dazed.

Lauren could see the conflict in Brian eyes. He needed to leave, but he couldn’t and wouldn’t leave her like this.

“It’s okay,” Lauren reassured him quietly as she moved over to the bed where he was standing. “She’ll be fine.”

“Don’t leave her side,” Brian instructed firmly.

Aubrey wanted to protest that she wasn’t a child. She was right there and she could hear them talking about her as if she weren’t. But she couldn’t spit out the words, only sobs.

“I won’t,” Lauren promised, looking directly into his eyes to reassure him that she took this seriously too.

Aubrey reached for him, the only thing she felt that she could do, but Lauren moved to where Brian had been sitting on the bed moments earlier and hugged her, essentially holding her back from getting to Brian.

“Just go,” Lauren muttered over her shoulder. “We’ll be okay.”

Having lost complete control over the situation, he exhaled and picked up his bag then turned for the door. He didn’t have the balls to look back at Aubrey before he walked out of the bedroom.

Her cries got louder when he disappeared from sight. His feet took him down the hallway on autopilot, only slowing once he shut the apartment door behind him. He took a deep breath in attempt to shake off the anguish, but it did nothing. With another exhale, he walked to his rented car and drove himself to the airport.

It blew his mind that every time they separated, shit hit the fucking fan. Every. Goddamn. Time. When did his life turn from relaxed and easygoing to so fucking melodramatic? When did Aubrey shift from a confident firecracker into a sobbing mess of tears? When did he turn from a womanizer into a whipped little bitch?

Walking away from her that time hurt so much worse than any other time he had to leave before. He can’t do that again. He fought the lump in his throat the entire drive to the airport.

As she promised, Valary was waiting for him outside the airport after his plane landed. He was so thankful it was her and not one of the guys.

“Hey,” she greeted as he slid into the passenger seat.

He didn’t say a word. Which said everything.

She exhaled, understanding. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He shook his head, pulling out his phone to send a text to Lauren.

She ok? He typed.

She’s okay. She calmed down and fell asleep about 30 min after you left. Been asleep ever since. What about you - are you okay?Lauren replied.

Not really. He texted honestly. Leaving her like that was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.

Don’t hold it against her. She’s not herself right now.

Keep me updated, okay?

Will do. Hang in there.

Notes

Mooore drama! But I hope you guys enjoyed! Sorry for the delays between chapters! And if you haven't found the amazingness of AvengedRomance's story: Restraint is Useless Here then you need to check it out - NOW! It puts my story to shame, so go read it! You can thank me later ;)

Xoxoxo &*