Chapter Text
The day passes slowly.
He’s no longer in a single room, but the bed next to his has been empty since yesterday. It’s just as well, he imagines. The only thing worse than being stuck all alone in the hospital had to be being stuck in there with a talkative stranger. Aaron keeps the telly on, even though everything that’s on is meant for old geezers. Around noon they bring him lunch and soon after a young nurse comes by to show him how to inject himself with blood thinners.
“You’re not scared of needles, are you?” she asks, smiling brightly.
“Not really, no,” Aaron mutters, tugging up his gown and trying not to notice how her smile dims as she catches sight of his old scars. She collects herself quick enough, guiding his hand with a light touch as he pinches a bit of fat above his hip and digs in the needle. The tiny prick doesn’t even register and the smile’s back on her face as she straightens up again.
“Well done,” she says. “Now, how about that shower, Mr. Dingle?”
An auxiliary nurse, a grey-haired woman who reminds him of Lisa, helps him tape a plastic bag over the cast. Then she brings him his crutches and keeps an eagle eye on him as he swings his legs over the edge of the bed. His ribs hurt more than his leg and he’s wheezing before he’s even standing. The woman keeps close, but lets him do most of the work. As he staggers forward Aaron wonders if she’s meant to catch him if he falls. He sorta hopes not. If he falls on top of her, well, then she'll probably end up in a hospital bed of her own with a broken hip. He’d rather not have that on his conscience.
There’s a chair waiting for him in the shower. With sweat beads trailing down his spine and his legs shaking underneath him, Aaron decides that he’s never been so bloody happy to see a piece of furniture before in his life. He sinks down on it, wincing as he bangs his cast against the sink. The crutches clutter to the ground and he winces again, this time at the sound.
“Sorry,” he says, even though he’s not quite sure why he’s apologizing.
“Nothing to be sorry about,” she assures him. “Now, I can either wait outside or-“
“Outside,” he interrupts her. The bathroom’s already started to feel too small for the two of them.
Every part that follows is a struggle. From getting his clothes off, to turning on the tap and lifting his arms high enough to wash his hair. The hospital towels feel coarse, like sandpaper against bruised and swollen skin. The air stinks of hospital and his thoughts, they keep going to Jackson. Even after all these years, the unfairness of it makes him want to scream.
When Aaron’s finally collapses back into his bed, he’s asleep within seconds.
xxx
He wakes to find that he has a visitor.
The telly’s still on, although someone has muted the sound. Someone’s refilled the water glass on his bedside table too and the most likely suspect’s lounging in the visitor’s chair, working away on his laptop. Aaron studies his boyfriend, memorizing every perfect detail. The shadows cast by Robert’s eyelashes. The freckles scattered over his cheekbones. The crow’s feet in the corner of his eyes. All that could have been lost in the accident. Swallowed by that damned lake.
Aaron shudders and gives up the pretense of sleeping.
“How come you’re not at work?” he asks, wishing he could sit up or at least turn to his side.
“Says the bloke who hasn’t shown up to work for the past week,” Robert easily counters, looking up from his screen with a crooked grin. “Besides, I'll have you know that I'm working right now.”
“Says you. For all I know, you’re looking at porn again.”
The blush spreads from Robert’s ears down his neck, disappearing underneath his collar.
“That was Lachlan!” he hisses, twisting in his chair in an obvious attempt to make sure that no one's eavesdropping on them. The scandalized look on his face has Aaron first laughing, then grimacing as his ribs send sparks of pain up his spine. Squeezing his eyes shut he keeps his breathing shallow, barely letting his chest rise with each inhalation.
“Serves you right for trying to rile me up,” he hears Robert mutter, even as a warm hand brushes against Aaron’s arm in the lightest of touches. Opening his eyes, he finds that Robert’s squatted down next to the bed, his eyebrows knitted together in a frown and his mouth turning down in the corners.
“I’m alright,” Aaron assures him. “I just forgot about my ribs.”
Robert doesn’t look convinced, but he sits back on his heels and gives Aaron a considering look.
“Bet you forgot about your breathing exercises too,” he says.
Aaron doesn’t bother denying it. He even lets Robert bully him into sitting up straight and doing them, taking deep stabbing breaths and exhaling slowly through pursed lips. Robert, the giant sap, stays by the side of the bed and breathes with him. It’s not the first time that Aaron has matched his breathing with Robert’s, letting his chest expand and fall with each breath as he allows himself to be anchored in a familiar pair of eyes. After they’re done, Robert struggles to get to his feet. His knees creak, the sound loud even over the constant whirr of the air conditioning, and he gives Aaron a warning look. Aaron doesn’t smirk though. Doesn’t call him old man or anything like it. Just allows himself a stupid flood of warmth at the thought of the two of them growing old together.
“Love you,” Aaron says.
It still sounds strange. New, for all that it feels like he’s already loved the man a lifetime. At the words, Robert’s face softens.
“Yeah,” he says. "Same here."