"As Infinite As The Universe We Hold Inside"

by: singyourmelody

Disclaimer: Title is from "Sun" and heading below is from "Pacific Blues" both by Sleeping at Last, both amazing songs that I listened to a lot while I was writing this. I highly recommend. Don't own Austin & Ally or any of the characters. This is after the season three finale. Special thanks to Sir Mix-a-Lot. You'll see why.

|| i guess the truth is that the truth is of complex design||

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By her fourteenth show, he's moved past denial and anger and bargaining and has dived headfirst into depression.

But he's Austin Moon, the constant bundle of energy and excitement and pure joy, so his depression is really only a dull muting of what he always is.

It's almost hidden really, but she can see it. It's the light in his eyes. It's fading.

Her fourteenth show is at a small club near Phoenix and it's wrong, all wrong. The lighting too dim, the smoky air makes it hard to breathe, the set list feels off, and she can barely handle the sadness she sees when he watches her. It's just wrong.

The people in the club barely pay attention to her and don't even notice when she finishes.

"Thank you," she mumbles quietly into the microphone, before hurrying off stage and grabbing his hand. They are on the bus and pulling out of there in record time.

She shakes her head in frustration.

"I'm sorry, Ally," he says.

"That show was just awful, right?"

"Not your best one," he agrees, "but it wasn't your fault. I don't know why the label booked you there. They didn't seem to be your target audience at all."

"I hate that they just ignored me. And I hate that I couldn't get them interested at all," she says.

"True. You did try though."

She closes her eyes. "Did I really start singing Party in the USA?"

He laughs, although it's not his full normal one, the one she has come to know so well. "Yeah, you really did."

She opens her eyes. "I thought they needed some energizing!"

"And Miley Cyrus was the way to do that?" he asks.

"Hey!" she says, punching his shoulder lightly, laughing.

He stops laughing then and sits down and stares at his hands for a moment. She can't stand to see what is happening to him, can't stand that he isn't bouncing off the walls. He's always bouncing off the walls, always so full of life.

So she does the first thing she can think of and picks up her iPod and plugs in her speakers, selecting a song from her workout mix.

As the bass starts pumping through the bus, he looks up, "Wha-?"

But he's interrupted as she starts singing.

"I like big butts and I cannot lie
You other brothers can't deny
When a girl walks in with an itty bitty waist
And a round thing in your face
You get sprung!"

She's singing loudly, well, rapping almost, and dancing around like an idiot and he is laughing so hard, but then he stops and stands next to her with a serious look on his face and she momentarily worries that she's somehow made everything worse. Until he opens his mouth and starts singing with her. . .

"Deep in the jeans she's wearing
I'm hooked and I can't stop staring
Oh baby, I wanna get with you
And take your picture
My homeboys tried to warn me
But that butt you got makes me so-
Ooh, Rump-o'-smooth-skin
You say you wanna get in my Benz?
Well, use me, use me
'Cause you ain't that average groupie."

She's the one who can't control her laughter now. She stands on the couch and starts jumping up and down, taking over lead vocals.

"I've seen them dancin'
To heck with romancin'
She's sweat, wet,
Got it goin' like a turbo 'Vette
I'm tired of magazines
Sayin' flat butts are the thing
Take the average man and ask him that
She gotta pack much back"

He joins her and they are jumping and flailing and singing as loudly as they possibly can.

"So, fellas!" he sings

"Yeah!" she responds.

"Fellas!"

"Yeah!"

"Has your girlfriend got the butt?" he sings.

"Hell yeah!" she shouts, before blushing profusely. She's not usually one to curse. Or sing about her butt, but here they are.

"Tell 'em to shake it!"

"Shake it!" she repeats.

"Shake it!" he sings.

"Shake it!"

"Shake that healthy butt!"

"Baby got back!" they sing together before repeating "LA face with Oakland booty," several times.

"What is an Oakland booty anyway?" she shouts over the music.

"I have no idea," he says, shrugging. He keeps jumping and together they shake their way through the whole song.

They collapse next to each other when the song is over and they are breathing heavily and she's sweaty and exhausted but also feels a million times better.

"Phoenix who?" she says as she leans over to kiss him.

"Jimmy who?" he says softly before her lips touch his.

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Trish joins them in San Diego and she realizes how much she's missed her best friend. She's happy for her success but she wishes it didn't mean so much time apart.

They talk for hours at the small diner outside of the arena where she'll play that night and Austin pretends to be interested but she's pretty sure he's watching the game on his phone and texting Dez.

They eat and chat about Trish's latest escapades and how she's barely managing to actually manage all of her clients and somehow all of this feels so very grown up. How long ago was it that they were all at Sonic Boom anyway?

She reaches over and grabs a couple of his fries and it's not until she's on the last one that she realizes that she didn't even ask. She's Ally. She always asks permission first.

He doesn't notice, though, instead helping himself to one of her onion rings and looking back down at the game and is this who they are now?

She thinks about this later that night when she's trying to fall asleep. Can't stop thinking about it really.

So with Trish's soft inhales and exhales coming from the bunk above her, she tiptoes across the small aisle and crawls in next to him.

He turns when he feels the bed dip next to him and says, "Hey. Are you okay?"

She nods and wraps her arm around his mid-section.

"Sometimes I think about the fact that you already know all my stories," she whispers.

He pulls back so that he can see her. "Okay. . ."

"And you know all my songs. And if you've already heard all of my stories and you helped write a bunch of my songs, then what do we have left to say to each other?"

His brow furrows a bit. "I'm not sure I understand, Ally."

She brushes a bit of his hair out of his eyes. "Don't you ever worry that we know each other inside out and we're only seventeen?"

He nods and she thinks he might be getting it.

"But that's a good thing, isn't it?" he asks. "I know you. And you know me. And we are still choosing to do this. To be this to each other."

"Right, but what happens when it stops being a good thing?" she responds.

"If."

"If?" she repeats.

"Not when."

She looks away, but he lifts his hand to bring her eye line back to his.

"If, not when," he repeats.

"If, not when," she agrees.

They lie there for a moment, before he breathes out and says, "Are you worried that I will get tired of you or that you will get tired of me?"

"Neither. Both. I don't know," she says, quietly.

He lays his head back down. "Huh."

"Huh?"

"Yeah. I'm not really sure what to say here. I've never thought about this before," he says, and suddenly it feels very final.

"What brought this on?" he asks after a moment's pause.

She hesitates because this is really important to her and she doesn't want him to tell her to stop worrying, that it will all be fine, that it's not a big deal. But when she looks at him, he looks so concerned that she knows she can trust him. She's already given him her heart. And he's always taken such good care of it. . .

"I ate your fries without asking."

"What?"

"Today at the diner, I took your fries without asking," she says again.

"So? I eat your food without asking all the time."

"I know, but that's because you're you. I always ask. But I didn't. And it made me think that maybe we are too comfortable with each other," she says.

He nods. "We are pretty much living together."

"Right."

He thinks for a moment. "If my music career ever gets back on track-"

"When," she interrupts.

"Huh?"

"When, not if."

He stares at her, as if he's not quite willing to believe her, but he continues on anyway. "When my music career gets back on track, we are both going to be so crazy. Between recording and tours and everything . . . it's never going to be like this again. Me and you. Only me and you."

She bites back a smile. "So we need to enjoy this time now?"

"Exactly."

"And what if you get tired of my stories?" she asks again.

"Of course we'll get tired of each others' stories at some point, right? But won't we always have new stories too?" he asks.

She thinks for a moment. He's right. "Yes, we will. Every day is a new story."

"And some of them we'll share and some we won't."

She snuggles up next to him. "I like that. And I'm glad we get to share this one."

"Me too."

"Can I stay here tonight?" she asks.

"Um, what about the boundaries?"

She holds up her pinky. "I won't try anything if you don't."

He smiles then and links his pinky with hers. "Deal."

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They reunite with Dez in LA and it's almost like old times.

She can barely contain her excitement and enthusiasm because this is Los Angeles and she is playing here and people know her and have come to hear her sing. It's amazing really.

The show is easily the best of her tour and she's not sure if that's because the crowd is so receptive or because her family is all back together again. She has to think it's the latter.

They argue about where to eat afterwards. Dez wants to take them to some performance art restaurant where the art is your food and Trish is pushing for them to make an appearance at the new club that just opened, but she instead manages to convince them to get takeout delivered to the bus.

Time moves too fast as they sit there cross legged, passing around Chinese takeout containers, sharing stories from their new lives, and laughing. So much laughter. He almost looks like his old self again. She is glad.

And then just as soon as it started, it's over. Trish has to go back into the city to meet with her boy band client to prep for a show the next day and Dez tells them that Carrie is waiting for him at her home.

She hugs them both a little too tightly and so does he and then they're gone.

A deep silence settles over the bus after their departure.

"I miss them," he says.

"Me too."

They turn in for an early night because really what else is there to do? She feels like she's conquered the world tonight and also like she's lost something important. She's not sure how she could feel both of those things simultaneously, but she wonders if this is what it means to grow. To be grown.

"I'm proud of you, Ally," he says softly from his bunk after the lights are turned down.

"Thank you," she says, and it's not just for the compliment. It's for everything he does for her and is for her every single day.

With his words humming in her ears, she falls fast asleep.

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Tom calls again the next day.

Jimmy has agreed to meet with him in person.

He has to go. She knows this. She wants him to be able to work things out.

Still, sitting at the airport waiting for him to leave feels every shade of awful.

"I'm sorry I'll miss the end of your tour," he says.

"I'm almost done. I will be back to Miami before you know it," she says, trying to sound brave. She's surprised to find that she actually does.

"I don't know what to say to him."

"Apologize? Again?" she offers.

"I'm not sure I want to work with him anymore," he states.

"What do you mean?"

"Tom said that there might be a way to get me out of my contract altogether," he says.

"And then you'd be free to sign with someone else?" she asks.

He nods. "But then. . . Jimmy gave me my start. I hate how he's handled this whole thing, but I'm not blameless either and he was the first one to believe in me."

She shakes her head. "Not the first one."

He kisses her forehead. "What do you think I should do?"

"Read the room when you get there? There is something to be said for history," she says, a small smile tugging the corners of her lips.

"True," he says, lacing his fingers through hers.

"Maybe you guys just really need to have a sit-down, drag-it-all-out-into-the-open kind of conversation. In person. Maybe then you can come to some sort of understanding?" she suggests.

He nods and checks the time. "Better head through security."

She reaches up and hugs him. "I don't want to say goodbye, so how about 'Catch you later'?"

He laughs because she is so awkward when she says things like that, she knows this but she says them anyway.

"Catch you later, Ally."

He kisses her quickly and then turns to get in line.

He looks back once and gives a small wave and it's enough.

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She plays her last show at an open stage amphitheater and the sun is setting in the distance and it seems like the perfect ending in so many ways.

As she belts out her last song, "Finally Me," she thinks of Dez and Trish and him and wishes they could be with her but in some ways, she's glad they aren't. She needed to finish this on her own. She has finished this on her own.

She sings,

"I'm finally me
Got everything I need
What you get is what you see,
I'm finally me
And I've never felt so free
There's no one else that I'm trying to be
I'm finally me"

And she means it.

She climbs back on the bus and breathes out. She's completed her tour. She fulfilled one of her dreams and she can't stop smiling.

Her phone buzzes. It's a text from him.

In talks with Jimmy. He's still mad that I didn't trust him. But he's starting to understand.

She writes back.

What did you say to start to convince him?

He answers.

That you know every word to 'Baby Got Back' and that I had to get you before some other guy figured that out.

She responds quickly.

You did not!

He writes back.

Just kidding. I told him the truth. That you make me better. In every way.

She replies.

You make me better too. I'll be home soon.

He responds.

Counting the days.

And she is too.

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|| End ||