Ashley Price, Dealing With a Lot Right Now

As has been established a dozen times over at this point, Magic is very real. And it's not all pots of gold and learning to fly and DTF unicorns. There are things out there so far beyond the human ken that 'terrifying' doesn't cut it, things that are capable of dragging you back to being nothing more than the cowering primate that you ultimately are.

Still. Is there anything worse than an awkward car ride?

Though honestly, a bit of low-grade existential dread suits your mood perfectly at the moment. If anyone is truly twisting in the uncomfortable silence of your long trek down the highway, it's Asher and not you. At least you think. It's hard to ignore someone and be sure that you're making them uncomfortable at the same time. Maybe it's like a Schrödinger's cat situation; as long as you don't check, the man exists in both possible states all at once.

For some reason, the idea is deeply pleasing. Let's crank the screws a bit further.

You open your mouth, catching a glimpse of Asher perking up in the corner of your eye. Oh, he thinks it's conversation time, does he? Let's dash those hopes. "Play Brooding Playlist."

Your inner voice cackles maniacally as Asher slumps slightly, a reversed sound sample warbling out of Isabelle's speakers before giving way to heavy drums. That's right, old man. Taste the darkness. You're dangerously close to declaring your mood lifted, but then the pulsing bass riff kicks in and your ersatz father straightens back up. "Is this 'New Dawn Fades'?"

Goddamn it. "Turn off Brooding Playlist."

It's too late. You fucked up, and Asher's found a topic to cling to. "Wow, does that take me back. I can't tell you how many times I listened to this album when I was your age. My fosters hated it so much."

Fucking Philistines. Ian Curtis was a melancholy poet messiah, and Unknown Pleasures is the goddamn Bible. Not that you're going to engage Asher on that. "Uh-huh."

Now that you've mistakenly broken the ice, though, the man isn't giving up. "I wonder where all my records wound up? God, I'd love to just curl up and start working my way through--"

You cut in. "I have them."

"Oh." A bit of a look slips across Asher's features, as if he's surprised at how hearing that makes him feel. "Well that's great; I'm really glad you were--"

"You can take them back."

"What? No, Ash; you don't have to--"

"I don't want them anymore."

That finally succeeds in un-breaking the ice, Asher slipping back into silence again. But you aren't even enjoying it anymore; angry tears are threatening to well up and you can't decide if it makes you more furious or miserable.

Why the fuck do you feel this way? He isn't your father, and even if he was he doesn't want to be your father. Why did he have to come back? You were fine. Your mom was fine.

But now all you can think about is the feeling of the purple and pale peach sunset that shielded you from the Ardor, how you never realized it was missing from your life and now it's going to be gone forever.

"Ash..."

And you're well past the point of being able to just shrug all of this stuff off as not 'being real', as being some shadow play shoved into your brain by the New Reality. That was a useful crutch and it's gone now, replaced by the grim understanding that your mother's wish for a perfect life didn't give either of you a painless one. And on top of the entirely deserved telling off Quinn gave you?

It's too much, all at once. Goddamn Magic can just take a flying fuck at a--

"Ashley!"

It's the blaring lights as much as Asher's panicked warning that snaps you out of your funk, your brain struggling to catch up with your eyes and ears as you stare at the truck that's veered out of the oncoming lane and directly into your path. It's all you can manage to crank the steering wheel in unthinking desperation, Isabelle's car screaming in protest as you attempt to swerve out of the way.

Everything happens so fast, it all blurs into a cacophony of feelings and images: the momentum of the car trying to rip you out of your seat, the screeching brakes of a second car in the oncoming lane that you miss by a hair's breadth, the horrible thought that the car is about to flip over.

And through it all, the momentary glance you got of BTK behind the wheel of the oncoming car.

Someone is shaking your shoulder. Oh. You didn't crash? You dazedly lift your head, blinking at Asher as he urgently says something to you. You fumble off your seat belt and crack open the driver's side door, stumbling out into the cold night air over what you imagine are the man's protests. What the fuck was that? Was Beatrix always this unsubtle? Also, you think you're going to fall down.

Yep, that's happening.

Thankfully, Asher has rushed around from his side of the car by this point and is able to brace you as you begin to wobble. The driver of the car that BTK pulled out from behind, the one you almost veered into, has slipped worriedly out of her vehicle as well. She's maybe your mom's age with rich bronze skin and long, gorgeous curls, and she just looks absolutely furious. "Oh my God, are you two alright?! That maniac! How can anyone be so reckless?!

You're not entirely clear on how to get your mouth to work just yet, so Asher takes the lead. "We're shaken up, but I don't think we're hurt. What about you? I have no idea how we didn't slam into you."

"I know. What a nightmare. Well, I guess if nobody's hurt, we have to be..." She trails off, squinting at the man holding you up. "...huh. I'm sorry, I know this is a trying moment, but...do people tell you that you look--"

"Um, like that dead actor? Yes. All the time. I'm not, though."

"Right." The woman stares at Asher for a moment longer, then shakes her head clear. "Right. Of course. Well I'm going to report that psycho; I think I got most of his plate number. Are you sure your daughter's alright, though?"

You start to mumble a protest, but Asher speaks over you. "We'll just take a moment before getting back on the road. We'll be okay. Thanks, though."

The woman makes a concerned noise, nodding at you in farewell with sympathetic eyes. By the time she's made it back to her car and begun to pull away, you manage to will yourself together enough to shake off Asher's arm. As you march back towards Isabelle's car, the man objects. "Ashley, you can't seriously think you should--"

"Quiet. Gotta do something."

You throw open the backseat door and pull out your bag, rummaging around for your thermos. The top clatters to the ground as you throw back the full container of freshly squeezed Ringlets, unable to fully appreciate the lovely undertones of caramel and almond at the moment but requiring the boost in power nevertheless. You pause only long enough to let out a gasp, tossing the now empty thermos into the backseat before teetering over to the side of the road. Asher is hovering at your side like some nervous mother hen, but you aren't listening as you kneel down, spread your hands across the asphalt, and start to pump every last bit of power you've got into the highway.

A wild fancy strikes that you can actually hear the fizzling pops of the things inside the BTKs as your magics flood the road, and then you realize that you actually can. Images flood your mind as the power courses down its path, scene after scene of squat mustached drones idling in cars by the side of the road dissolving as your magic washes over them. Fuck, that's...six of them? All just waiting for the chance to kamikaze you?

Consider this a lesson learned, and be glad you didn't have to pay the ultimate price for it: Just because you got rid of one threat, it doesn't mean you're safe yet.

Though you do know for sure that if anywhere is safe, it's this road, right now. You've filled it with so much purifying magic that it would probably be fine to eat off of it. You lift yourself back to your feet with a grunt, glancing up towards the worried man at your side. "Alright. We're good now. Let's go."

You turn towards the car, frowning when you feel Asher's hand on your shoulder. "Ash. You aren't seriously about to try driving right now, are you?"

"Yes? It's fine now."

"You aren't fine."

"Yes, I am."

"Ash, your arms are shaking."

No they...you glance down and, sure. Fine. You suppose your arms are shaking a little. You grit your teeth in annoyance, folding your hands under your armpits as you do your best to **** yourself still. "Whatever. Just...give me a minute, and then we'll go."

Something about how concerned Asher looks right now makes you completely and utterly enraged. "Ash, that isn't a good idea. If we're going to get back on the road, at least let me drive."

That pushes you over the edge. "Oh, really? We're going to let you drive? Because you've got such a great record of road safety?" Asher balks at your hissed retort, but now that you've started you can't stop. You've whirled around on the man, jabbing a finger into his chest as your unedited emotions spill out all over him. "Maybe there'll be a ramp you can jump! Or you can try to get the car up on two wheels! Why not, right? There's no reason not to risk it! Just like last time! You only had a fucking wife waiting for you, and a fucking baby waiting for you! Who cares, right?! You're Asher Fucking Isaacs, and why should any of that matter when you've got photographers to show off for?!"

You're not certain when the tears began streaming down your cheeks, but you're past caring. You pause only long enough to let out one body-wracking sob, furiously rubbing your forearm across your eyes before looking back up to glare tearful accusation directly into the face of the man who should have been your father. "Why did you do it? Just...why?"

"Ash, I...I wouldn't. I didn't."

You sniff, fighting down the confusion that threatens to bubble up through your anger. "What?"

"I--" Asher's eyes widen as he nearly swoons, and this time you're the one propping him up. He can barely stand; you have to lead him over to the car and let him lean up against the trunk before he's able to speak again. "I didn't. I mean, I did; I had been drinking and I got on my bike to show off or something like an idiot, but..." The man presses his fingers into his temples, brow furrowed. "But I also didn't. I actually didn't."

Maybe it's the lingering effects of shock, but it takes you a while to understand what he's getting at. "Wait. You mean in the current timeline? In my timeline?"

"In our timeline now, I think. I...I didn't think it would be like this. I thought it would be like getting handed a big folder with 'NEW MEMORIES' written on it or something, but it must have started to drip in without me ever noticing. I wasn't drinking that night; I wasn't even in the same place." He runs his hands up into his hair, eyes wide as he attempts to relive his own past for the first time. "I think I was meeting my manager? Or someone? I know I'd been called in for something important, but I just can't remember what it was..."

You chew on your lower lip for a moment, trying to work through this particular development. "That can't be true. Your accident happened in the new timeline exactly the way it did in the original."

Asher frowns down at you. "I was there, Ashley. Both times. And I'm telling you that it did happen the first time, but it did not happen the second time. There was no fucking way I'd even get near a motorcycle, not with the..."

He trails off, the same expression that flitted across his features upon hearing you had his records blooming once again.

"...Not with the baby at home."