Hold Onto the Sink, an Austin and Ally oneshot
I do not own Austin and Ally. Per request of Catania, Polkadotty, Blueberryminizzle, and ConverseinDecember. Thank you for the prompts and reviews!
(She's always on his mind.
He thinks about her all the time.
"I haven't heard that song in a while," she notes, cracking an egg against the counter.
"I was helping Dez with the tenth anniversary video."
The second egg rolls onto the ground, splattering onto the cupboards. She jumps back.
"Speaking of anniversaries, what are we doing for ours?" Seven years of mentally rewriting that song. From that moment at the altar to now.
Tomorrow's the day.
He grabs the white linen towel from the stove. "I'm not going to spoil the surprise."
Apparently he has no problem spoiling their new towels though. What had they been thinking, getting such a light color?
'Ally, look! They have music notes on them.'
"Where's all the chocolate?" she asks, shaking it empty.
He rubs the back of his neck. Tossing the towel on the counter, he comes clean.
"I may have gotten a bit hungry."
"How are we supposed to make chocolate chip cookies if we don't have any chocolate?"
"Sorry," he says sheepishly, hanging his head.
She runs a flour dusted hand through his hair. "It's okay. We can go get more."
Heading for the door, he calls after her.
"Aren't you going to take your apron off?" Her 'kiss the cook apron' that he is never letting her out of the house in. Not without removing that 'k' and 's.'
People can know that she 'is the cook.' They can not, however, kiss his wife.
That's his job.
Just like how it was his job to make sure they had all the ingredients for the cookies.
"Thanks for reminding me. That would have been embarrassing."
Yes, it would have been. He could see the headline now.
'Pop Sensation Arrested After Beating a Stranger for Kissing His Wife.'
Correction, 'His Gorgeous Wife.'
Have to be accurate about these things, you know.
(Oh Ally, I can tell there's something.
Even though you say it's nothing.
You can't look me in the eyes.
Must be a surprise.
Please tell, I am waiting.)
"What'cha humming?" he asks, stuffing a cookie in his mouth.
She sticks the last pink rose into the arrangement. Seven roses for seven years.
"Nothing," she says in that way that lets him know that it is indeed something.
"It definitely sounded like something." He slings an arm around her shoulder.
Alright. Then this tickling that he's doing to her side, that's nothing too. This melody being played along her abdomen, it's nothing. This hand stretching across her stomach, it's-
Wait. That was definitely not nothing. That was something.
His hand stops.
"Your stomach. There's something different about it."
Trust him. He's had plenty of time to memorize every curve of her body, and that was not one of them.
"I just ate lunch." Lifting the vase off the table, she carries it into the living room.
"You were humming a lullaby."
He flips her around so that she is looking him in the eye. "Is there something you want to tell me?"
"Your gift didn't come in the mail yet?"
It's true. She had ordered him a copper toned watch online, as the seventh anniversary is copper and wool.
She knew she should have gone with the wool scarf. Not that he'd need it in Miami.
They could have gone on vacation in the mountains. They could have gotten cuddly on a ski lift.
Why did she not think this through?
Maybe it's because she was busy thinking about something else.
"That's not what I meant." He looks pointedly at her stomach.
She sighs. "I made an appointment with the doctor. The baby doctor."
"We're having a baby?" He throws his arms around her, drawing her to him.
"Well, I don't know yet. I didn't want to tell you until I was sure."
"I'm going with you."
"Austin, you don't have to."
"I want to."
Best anniversary ever.
(If you feel like crying now
You can stay right in my arms
Not a word, just breathe in)
Minor keys, oh how he hates thee. The sound of sad, weary songs for sad, weary spirits.
"Why the sad song?" He takes a seat next to her at the piano.
Wiping her tears away with the back of her hand, she faces him.
Great, now he's crying.
And to make matters worse, he has no clue why.
She falls into his arms.
"The doctor," she begins, breaking into another fit of sobs.
"What about the doctor?" He knew he should have gone. She said it was fine, that he could go to his CD signing. He had kept his phone on, telling her to call.
He knew something was wrong when she didn't call.
"I," she starts, choking back her tears. "I lost the baby."
He grips her harder. The tears flow freely, now having a reason.
Where had they gone wrong? The future looked so bright. He had even bought a stuffed lion, one that he had named Roary, on his way home.
Had he known she was here, playing her sad songs, he would not have stood in that line.
Her tears will stain his shirt, as will his. That doesn't matter.
All that matters is that he holds her until their eyes run dry.
They'll get through this.
(Girl, how I love you
Don't know how I could be so blind
Cause this is a love song)
This anniversary, she doesn't have time to get him a gift.
No bronze, no pottery.
She's hoping that this will be enough.
"Hey, Austin?" she calls from the bathroom.
Out of curiosity, he wanders down the hall. Seeing the light under the bathroom door, he knocks.
"Ally? What's the matter?" She's crying.
He might want to hold onto the sink.
They had stopped trying for a child weeks ago. Thought that maybe it was a sign from the universe that they had lost her.
He takes the stick from her hand. "You're pregnant."
"It could be a false positive. I'll need to go to the doctor to confirm it."
"I'm going with you." He drops the stick in favor of her hand. "To every visit."
He's not going to miss out this time. He's not going to come home to sullen melodies and wet hugs and defeated dreams.
They're doing this together.
Capturing the tear rolling down her cheek, he kisses her forehead.
"You do realize this means you'll have to give up Roary the lion."
"I'm okay with that."
He's more than okay with that. He'd give up anything for their future child.
Well, there may be one thing he can't bear to part with.
Then again, Ally is no thing. She's a living, breathing human, holding yet another.
He couldn't be happier.