Chapter Text
Aaron had always had his gift. At least, for as long as he could remember.
From the moment Jessica Campbell had fallen over on the playground in Year 1 and he’d put his hand on her leg to stop her crying and she’d gasped as the blood on her knee had stopped oozing and the cut had stitched itself together right before their eyes, he’d known.
No-one looked at him funny, or avoided him, or thought he was a freak, seeing as he wasn’t the only one with such a gift, but they did marvel at him. He was one of the lucky ones. One of the gifted children, part of a new generation that were inexplicably being born with superhuman skills and talents.
Some kids in his class had been able to fly. One girl could make fire with a click of her fingers. When he was a teenager, he met a boy who could make himself invisible which was an ideal talent to be abused by a fifteen year old boy.
And Aaron could heal people: he liked that. He didn’t want any of the fancy, show-off gifts (as much as it looked like good fun to be able to fly far above the teacher’s head when he started yelling at you): he was proud of his gift. Because he could help other people.
When he was growing up, he’d used it all the time for all sorts of things: if a member of his family cut themselves, Aaron was able to stop the bleeding and heal the wound; when his best mate broke his leg, Aaron put the bone back together with just his touch. He’d learnt about his gift and how to use it as he’d matured, finding out everything about it as he succeeded and failed, and ended up suffering himself.
The bigger, or more serious, the injury, the more strength it required to heal and it sapped his energy. After he’d fixed Adam’s leg, he’d fallen asleep for nearly a whole day and his mum had been beside herself with worry that he’d never wake up. She’d warned him about not overdoing it but how was he supposed to do nothing if he could heal someone? If he had to rest for a few days afterwards or felt completely drained for a few hours, that was a small price to pay for helping someone escape their pain.
He’d wondered if he could heal people’s minds too. He’d desperately wanted to when his mum had been suffering from PTSD but that hadn’t worked and had just left him with a blinding migraine and no desire to try again.
Official looking people had turned up in the village once when Aaron was a teenager and spoken at length with his mum about him and his gift. They’d wanted to take him away: they’d wanted him to work for them. They’d told her what a great opportunity it was and how he could help so many. But Chas Dingle hadn’t come down in the last rain shower and she wasn’t about to let her son be carted off to be experimented on and used as some sort of ‘solution’ in a war zone or something else equally awful. She’d sent them packing and spent the rest of the evening passionately telling Aaron that he needed to be careful, protect his gift and never let anyone take advantage of him. And he’d always remembered that: he used it when he wanted to; when he knew he could help someone; when it was the right thing to do.
***
The cry of terror had been awful and it had brought people rushing out of their houses and the cafe to see what what going on.
Belle was lying on the floor in a heap, the car that had knocked her down stopped a few feet away from her, the driver looking shocked and pale.
Aaron rushed forward and the gathered crowd parted to let him through. He could hear someone on the phone to the emergency services but they all knew that Aaron was the best chance of her being healed.
Lisa was screaming and crying and begging Aaron to help her daughter and Aaron felt the weight of so many people’s hopes press down on him. Sometimes he wondered what would happen if he couldn’t do it, if he wasn’t enough to heal someone, but he never had time to dwell on that fear.
Falling to his knees alongside Belle’s prone body, he drew in a deep breath. She was badly injured: he didn’t need to have any medical knowledge to know that. Again it flashed through his mind that he might not be able to help, but he forced it to the side.
Placing one hand on Belle’s face and grabbing her hand with his other, he poured his energy into healing her injuries and fixing everything that was damaged. There was so much to repair within her small body: broken bones and internal injuries and cuts and scratches. One by one, he healed each hurt.
He didn’t even understand how it worked. It was like something within him sought out each damaged part of her body and went about fixing it. He never questioned it, just allowed his instincts to take over.
He knew he was beginning to tire. He could feel his shoulders slumping and his eyelids growing heavier, but he couldn’t stop. Belle was still in pain, still not fully healed. It was probably the worst set of injuries he’d ever had to heal and he knew he’d end up suffering for it, but he couldn’t stop. If he could save her, he would.
“Aaron! Aaron, love, stop!” He could hear his mum crying out to him, but she sounded so far away. His head hurt and then his chest felt like something had slammed into him and stolen his breath, and then he felt warmth dribbling from his nose, and he knew without seeing it that it was blood. But he wouldn’t stop.
He felt Belle moving beneath his hands. He saw her blinking up at him in shock and confusion and then concern. He heard his mum calling his name again and then he was falling.
He knew what was coming; he’d been here before. He knew he’d given too much, pushed himself too far, and he knew that he was going to be out for the count for a while. He knew he’d exhausted himself, drained his own energy to save someone else (again) and he’d completely weakened himself. The realisation flashed through his mind and he braced himself to crash to the ground or into someone’s waiting arms, but instead of the darkness of unconsciousness, he saw a glowing light moving towards him. He fought through his complete exhaustion to stay awake: he wanted to know what the light was. Not only could he see it, but he could feel it. Its presence warmed him somehow. It moved closer and then he felt it: pure, golden energy surrounding him and flowing into him.
A hand squeezed his own and he wondered how he was still awake.
“It’s okay,” a voice said right beside his ear. “Take what you need.”
And somehow Aaron knew what to do. Instinct took over again and he felt energy flooding through him, like he’d opened a gate and allowed whatever this feeling was to flow into him. It could have only lasted mere seconds but Aaron suddenly felt rejuvenated. He opened his eyes and blinked up at where the glowing energy had been. A man with blond hair and blue-green eyes stared down at him.
They gazed at one another for a long moment and then Aaron became aware of other people, other voices, his mum pushing her way forwards and crouching by his side.
The blond man shuffled back, stood up and stepped away, as Chas glared at him suspiciously, and Aaron wanted to reach out for him. He didn’t want him to go.
“Sweetheart, are you alright?” Chas asked as she patted his face and fussed. “How many times have I told you not to go so far? You’d done enough - you could’ve waited for the ambulance to come to do the rest.”
“Belle?” he asked, tearing his eyes away from the stranger and looking at his mum.
“She’s fine, love. Thanks to you. Hardly a scratch on her. But you shouldn’t risk yourself like that. I thought you were going to be in a right state for a minute there,” she trailed off, casting a quick glance up at the man who was still standing nearby watching. “What happened anyway?”
“I dunno,” Aaron replied honestly. He managed to shrug slightly before he started pushing himself upright off the floor. “I’m fine, Mum,” he batted her hands away as she tried to fuss around him. He was about to speak, to ask the stranger who he was or how he’d done what he had, but he was beaten to it.
“Robert?” Vic’s voice called through the crowd. “Oh my god, it is you!”
And then Victoria was practically flying into the man’s arms and squeezing him with all her might.
Aaron pushed himself up from the ground and only wobbled slightly as he did so. After what he’d done to help Belle, he should’ve been practically comatose but somehow he was upright and able to function. He stepped closer to Victoria and the man she was babbling at in excitement.
“What did you do to me?” he asked and then realised that was probably pretty rude seeing as the bloke had seemingly helped him out.
Vic was looking between them anxiously. “Rob? What’s going on?”
Robert shook his head quickly, defensively. “He’s a healer and he was running out of power. He was going to make himself ill,” he said like it was obvious.
“‘He would like to know what that’s got to do with you,” Aaron interrupted abruptly, not liking being spoken about as though he weren’t there, but not quite understanding why he was being quite so frosty towards the man who had appeared from nowhere and helped him. Maybe he just didn’t know if this Robert bloke was trustworthy. Why would he just step in to help a complete stranger like that? And he’d never liked anyone seeing his weaknesses.
Robert held his hands up and shrugged. “Just thought I was doing you a favour,” he said. “Didn’t realise it’d be such a problem.”
“What exactly did you do? And how?” Aaron asked. Despite his misgivings, he was curious.
Robert shrugged again. “I have a lot of...energy,” he said as he waved his hand around in front of himself. “Comes in handy when someone needs a boost.” Beside him, Aaron saw Victoria frown a little, but then Robert stepped away and she quickly moved with him. “I’ll keep my nose out of your business next time,” Robert added before he turned his back and started walking away, Vic following him and speaking rapidly to him as they went.
Aaron watched them go. He didn’t know what to make of Robert, but he had to admit he wanted to know more.