"Life has many ways of testing a person's will, either by having nothing happen at all or by having everything happen at once,"

~Paulo Coelho

"M-mum? What, what are you doing here?" Michael stuttered.

"I've been coming by the past few days, but nobody's been home," Michael's mum mused.

"What are you doing here?" Michael repeated.

"I'm here to get you, Michael. Now come on, your fathers waiting in the car," it was as if she could tell he was going to call for help, "He has this lovely gun on him, you should really see it,"

"I'm good," Michael said.

His mum smiled. "Come on, Michael. Hurry up,"

"I'm not going,"

"Excuse me?" she asked stunned by his denial.

"I'm, I'm not going,"

"What does eradication mean, Michael?" she changed the subject suddenly.

"Death,"

"Yes, it does. So now I'll ask you have you planned your eradication? Have you decided how you're going to kill yourself? Because we all know it will happen, and in reality, none of us really care. Your boyfriend, Luke? No. Ashton? Calum? Nil. Nobody wants you here, Michael,"

Michael shook his head and backed himself into the wall. "Y-you're wrong," he said, but he wasn't sure if he believed himself.

"Am I?" his mum walked closer and he sunk to the ground by her feet. She clicked her tongue, "It's a shame really. If you weren't such a waste of space and time..." she trailed off. "Let's go, before your dad comes to see what's taking so long. Or worse, one of those boys,"

Michael stood shakily and held himself up with the wall. He was struggling with himself. The voice in his head was raging agreeing with everything his mum was saying. But there was another voice, one that denied it.

"I'm not going with you,"

"Michael Gordon Clifford. If I have to call your dad in here I can assure you that gun will be fired," his mum said.

"He can shoot me," Michael said.

"It won't be you. I was thinking tall, blonde, blue eyed...do you see where I'm going with this?"

Michael nodded.

"So, are you coming with me?"

Michael hesitated and looked back in the general direction of the guys. "They'll know it's you,"

"That's really sweet, Michael. Now let's go," she took his arm and pulled him out of the house.

Michael knocked over shoes by the front as they left and his mum closed the door quietly behind them, dragging Michael roughly to the car. He pretended to trip so he could grab a stone and his mum sighed closing her eyes. When she did this Michael threw the rock at the window.

He didn't have a chance to see if any of the boys looked over as him mum took that moment to yank him up by his hair. She tossed him carelessly into the backseat and he winced when he full his stitches being pulled slightly.

"Michael!"

He heard the desperate scream as his mum shut the door and climbed into the passenger seat. But then his dad was driving and it didn't matter that they heard the rock and looked out the window. It didn't matter that Luke was standing on the porch screaming his name with Ashton holding him back and Calum calling Liz. It didn't matter because they wouldn't catch up with the car and Michael had no way to tell them where they were taking him.

"I got a call from the hospital about you fag," his dad grumbled. "It's a real shame that drunk driver didn't kill you,"

His dad was drunk driving right now and Michael was almost praying that a police officer would pull them over, but the wicked voice in his head told him that he deserved whatever his parents were going to do.

"I know," he muttered in response to both his dad and the voice in his head.

"I bet you wish it killed you eh?"

Michael nodded. He did wish that it had, but he still wanted more time with Luke. He wanted it just a little bit more than he wanted to die, but in that moment he gave himself a limit. Not a time limit, he was already out of time. But he told himself there were three things he wanted before he died. He wanted all of Luke he could get. He wanted to be happy and be truly alive. And he wanted to minimize the amount of people that got hurt.

Once he did all three of those things, Michael told himself he was allowed to die. He rejoiced at the thought. Three things to do. Just three, and then he could die happily.

They pulled up in front of Michael's house and a bit of hope sparked. Maybe Luke would recognize his mum from when he came here nearly a month ago. But then again, it was a month ago. Michael doubted that would ever happen.

"Get the f*ck out fag," Michael's dad growled.

Michael stumbled out of the car and his dad pushed him roughly to the ground just feet away from the stairs. "P-please," Michael tried. "I just got stitches," his dad lashed out and his foot connected with the stiches in Michael's side. Michael cried out in pain and his dad laughed lowly.

"I hope I ripped them all out on you," his dad sneered.

Michael coughed and crawled towards the stairs. His dad kicked him again and Michael coughed up blood this time. His neighbors were watching, drawn out of their homes by the sound of Michael crying out in pain. Not a single one did anything to help. Michael's dad had given himself a reputation and nobody dared mess with the way Mr. Clifford lived his life.

Michael could see pity laced into the stares of the small group of people watching and he looked away shamefully as his dad left him halfway up the steps. His mum stepped over him and made sure her foot connected with Michael's face as she did.

Not minutes later his dad was back and yelling at him to get up the stairs. Michael tried picking himself up, but his side was screaming in agony and he was still coughing blood. That wasn't mentioning the voice screaming that he couldn't do it. And he couldn't. So Michael's dad was kicking him again.

On the stairs of his own house being watched by a handful of neighbors that used to treat him so kindly as a young kid and his dad was not going to stop.

Luke's shoes pounded the asphalt as he ran after Michael's dad's car. Ashton and Calum were a few yards behind him. None of the boys were that fit, but Luke's long legs gave him an advantage. They ran for minutes until all three boys swore they could hear someone shouting something in the distance.

Next came the other noises. The ones they wished they didn't ever have to hear. It sounded like a wounded animal being tortured. Yelps of pain and cries of misery. But what made it worse was that they knew, they knew it wasn't an animal. They knew it was Michael making those sounds. And as they turned the corner they could just barely see how.

Michael couldn't see Luke, Ashton and Calum running towards him from his position on the ground. He could only see the blood spotted stairs, black spots that danced along his vision and the small crowd watching his dad kicking him senseless. In that moment, Michael wished he was senseless.

"Hey!" the shout was heartbreakingly familiar to Michael. He could hear Luke, but he could not see him. But then the crowd parted like the red sea and Michael could just barely see Luke, Ashton and Calum gasping for breath and all he could think was no.

No, no, no. Because his dad had a gun in his jean waistband. And now the gun was in his hand and it was aimed right at his boyfriend and best friends.

"N-not, th-them," Michael wheezed.

"Shut up," his dad sneered giving him another sharp kick that had Michael grasping the stairs and pulling his body away from his dad.

"Hey! Stop it! Don't touch him!" Luke shouted.

Michael could see the three of them advancing slowly and he prayed that they would stop.

"I'll shoot all three of you dead, boy," Michael's dad warned.

Luke raised his arms and smiled cockily. "Fire away,"

Luke wasn't sure where the confidence was coming from. Perhaps a stroke of bravado in the face of death. But Michael was only wishing it would disappear.

"Selfless are we?" Michael's dad could play that game. He took a fistful of Michael's hair and yanked the boy to his knees just a few inches in front of him. Michael was in too much pain and was too weak to do anything but grasp at his dad's hand and pull at it uselessly. His nails weren't quite long enough to hurt his dad, but he tried his best. "What about now?" and the cold, metal barrel of the gun was pressed against Michael's temple and the boy in black laughed almost taunting his dad.

"Do it. Go ahead dad. No wait when I was three you liked it when I called you papa right? Or was it pops? I can't remember anymore..." Michael shook his head as best as he could and his dad yanked his head up again.

"Shut up,"

"Why? I want you to be angry. I want you to pull the trigger. Come on dad. Just a little pressure from your finger," Michael mused.

"I swear to God you f*cking faggot,"

Michael tried not to show how much the words hurt. "Shoot me dad. Kill me,"

"Mr. Clifford? I know you're drunk, so please put the gun down. Would you do this if you were sober?" Luke asked gently.

Michael's dad laughed and Michael knew very well what the answer was. "Kid I've only had two beers today, I wish I was drunk,"

This time Ashton spoke as he moved forwards.

Michael knew he was moving to hide Calum who was clutching a phone to his ear and muttering into it.

"Sir I think you should think this through. Killing your only son? Is that really what you want?"

Wrong thing to say, Ash. Michael thought. He was surprisingly calm. He knew he wanted more time, but if his dad were to kill him now it wouldn't be so bad. It was bound to happen eventually.

Michael saw Calum hang up and nod at Luke and Michael's heart sunk he didn't want the cops involved in this. Not one bit.

"Someone called the cops," Michael said. His dad stiffened. "I don't want the cops involved. If you let me go right now I swear I won't say anything ever,"

Michael's dad deliberated before he let go of Michael dropping him roughly to the ground and Michael scrambled away instantly, overwhelmed by coughs immediately. His dad kicked him towards Luke before storming up the stairs and into the house.

Luke ran forward to meet Michael and reached him just as Michael's waterworks started. He sobbed as he clutched Luke's shirt and Luke hugged him tightly.

"I want to leave," Michael sobbed.

"The police are coming babe, just hang on," Luke rubbed Michael's back.

"I don't want to talk to the police. Please Luke, let's just go,"

Luke hesitated, but he couldn't say no to Michael, not in this state at least. He nodded, "Alright. Come on," Luke stood, taking Michael with him and he carried the boy over to Ashton and Calum. "Let's go. He doesn't want to talk to the police and I'm not going to force him,"

Calum agreed, but Ashton looked like he wanted to say something against it until he met Michael's eye. When Ashton agreed they all walked off briskly and Ashton called Liz telling her it was alright and that Michael was safe now.

They stopped after fifteen minutes and Luke carefully set Michael down to the smaller boy's wishes. Michael could feel his chest constricting on him. It was an all too familiar feeling at this point. Michael was coughing blood and his body was aching and now as if that was not bad enough, he was having a panic attack.

Michael pressed his back against the wall of the building behind him his chest heaving rapidly and brokenly. He sunk down to the ground and pulled his knees into his chest tightly. His head bowed and he tucked it in between his knees fighting for every breath.

"Mikey?" Calum asked hesitantly.

"Cal hang on. Give him space," Ashton told the Kiwi boy.

"What's going on? Ash is he alright?"

"He's having a panic attack," the older boy mused calmly. Ashton's calm approached helped Michael in his attempt to calm himself and Michael drew in jagged breaths more evenly than before. "Michael? What do you want? What do you need?" Ashton asked him quietly.

Michael gestured wildly in Luke's direction, but none of the boys caught on. "Lu, I want, need," Michael gasped wildly and threaded his fingers through his hair.

"Michael?"

Michael reached blindly towards Luke and felt hands meet his and fingers entwine with his own. Luke's hands and Luke's fingers. Michael wanted him closer though. In the midst of his panic attack all Michael could register was that he wanted Luke's words in his ear and Luke's arms around his body.

"I'm right here, baby," Luke assured Michael as he pulled the smaller boy onto his lap. Luke was criss-cross on the sidewalk and Michael was curled into him. Calum was pacing and Ashton had his eyes closed.

Michael sniffled and tucked his nose into Luke's neck. It felt like home. Luke felt like home. And Michael's breaths came evenly and fully as he breathed in Luke's scent. The scent of home. And Michael knew he'd never had a home before, but he'd be damned if Luke wasn't home to him.

"You alright now, Mikey?" Luke asked gently.

Michael nodded into Luke's necked and the blonde let out a sigh of relief clutching the boy impossibly closer to him.

"We should start walking again," Ashton said with a glance at Calum, "You know, before Calum wears a trench in the sidewalk,"

Luke laughed and nodded helping Michael up and pulling the boy into him.

"Don't let go of me," Michael pleaded clinging to Luke.

Luke smiled and pressed a kiss to Michael's temple his arm wrapped around Michael's waist squeezed him gently, "Never dreamed of it,"

It had been a brief battle of wills. Michael against the voice in his head Luke against Michael's parents. And in that scenario Michael and Luke came out on top. And in that scenario everything was okay, but life had a million more scenarios to throw at them.