Work Text:
Aaron was exhausted. He couldn’t believe that after studying his ass off for eight years, he had finally reached his second year of residency, only to be dead on his feet. With something vaguely resembling vomit on his gown. Great.
Maybe he was getting old, but these thirty-hour shifts had been hitting him harder than usual.
Katelyn wouldn’t even be home with him today; she was in the middle of a 20-hour surgery and couldn’t get home for a few more hours. He knew how important this particular surgery was—Katelyn had spent the last few weeks preparing for it in great detail.
During his lunch break earlier, he had taken a detour to the operating room to get an update on how it was going. Of course, everything was going smoothly so far, not that he was surprised.
Aaron let his pride for Katelyn fill him with a soft warmth. His wife was a badass doctor.
So even though Katelyn would not be there with him, he couldn’t wait to get home. He just really wanted to crawl into bed and sleep for two days straight.
Now that his shift had officially ended, he could almost feel the bed underneath him, the soft sheets Katelyn had insisted on buying even though they were fucking expensive. Aaron had argued they were an unnecessary expense—no sheets should cost as much as a damn car—but now he had to grudgingly admit that he couldn’t sleep without them anymore.
The mocking look Andrew gave him for it the last time they all visited Nicky and Erik in Germany still made him bristle. The fucker really had no place to judge—if anyone had expensive taste, it was Andrew.
He fixed his eyes on the locker room ahead, avoiding eye contact with anyone nearby lest they get the idea to consult him on anything last minute.
He was barely standing in front of the door when a frantic-looking nurse approached him. “Dr. Minyard?”
Sighing, he took one last longing look at the door leading to his hard-earned rest before turning toward her with a scowl. So close.
She gave him an apologetic look, glancing at the locker room door and biting her lip. “I know you’re technically done for the day, but we have a patient in the ER who insists on being treated only by you,” she rushed out, clearly stressed. “He won’t let anyone else near him.”
Aaron gave her an incredulous look. What the hell?
It wasn’t that he had never been requested for special cases. In the four years he’d worked at this hospital, he’d built a reputation for handling patients with so-called attitude problems rather well. But these cases were usually referred to him by his colleagues—he’d never been explicitly requested by a patient before.
The strangeness of the whole incident was enough to pique his interest. There was also the beginning of a mild unease in the pit of his stomach that he didn’t want to examine further. Still, he kept his expression neutral, straightening slightly.
Resigned to the fact that a bed was no longer on the horizon, Aaron nodded once and gestured for the nurse to lead the way back to the ER.
She visibly sagged with relief when she realised she wouldn’t have to persuade him any further. Turning quickly, she filled him in as they walked. “I’m not exactly sure what happened. I was attending to a different patient when he was brought in, but he was causing quite a scene. I can’t tell you anything about his injuries because he refuses treatment. The other patients were starting to get anxious, so I’m just glad I got to you in time.” She shot him a guilty look at what was left unsaid. In time for the end of his shift.
Aaron wasn’t one to offer empty reassurances, and he wouldn’t start with it now. Before he could ask for more details about the patient, though, a loud argument could be heard from down the hall.
“Am I not being clear enough? If your name isn’t Aaron Richard Minyard, you won’t be coming anywhere near me.”
Aaron cursed under his breath when he recognised the voice. Fucking Josten. Having become quite acquainted with all of his moods over the years—despite his best efforts against it—Aaron could tell he was on the verge of losing it. He quickened his pace.
When he rounded the corner into the ER, his gaze zeroed in on the commotion. Neil was lying on a gurney, four nurses surrounding him. One of the nurses was holding medical supplies, frozen mid-motion; another had his hands raised placatingly, as if he was trying to calm a wild animal. All of them stared at the patient in front of them in various degrees of shock and fear.
Aaron took a deep breath, letting the irritation about this surprise visit show on his face. He was definitely not trying to hide the fact that he was worried. “That is not my middle name, Josten.”
Aaron’s arrival was enough to make some of the tension leave Neil’s body, not by much, but enough for the tightening of his shoulders to ease a bit. He took his death glare from the nurse who had dared to approach him and gave Aaron a confused look that was very clearly fake.
“Are you sure?” Neil said, feigning confusion, his head tilted to the side in consideration. “I could have sworn it was your middle name.”
“Yes, I’m sure,” Aaron bit back, annoyed. As if to prove his point, he gestured to the name badge clipped to his gown that very clearly read Aaron Michael Minyard.
Neil glanced down at the badge and smirked in the way he always did when someone reacted exactly how he wanted them to. Aaron narrowed his eyes; he had the sinking suspicion that he had walked right into some kind of trap.
“Aww, but you have the face of a Richard.”
One nurse whispered, “Did he just call him a dickface?”
Aaron’s eye twitched as he scowled at the pleased expression on Josten’s face. At least he didn’t have to fake his irritation anymore.
“I have the exact same face as Andrew,” he snapped. The fact that he was still sometimes asked for autographs by dumb Exy fans was testament to that.
“Eh,” Neil shrugged, giving a dismissive wave with his hand. “Debatable.”
“Ugh,” Aaron had to take a deep breath to stave off the building irritation he knew would make his face all red. Unattractively, he was—by now—self-aware enough to acknowledge. By the way Neil smirked mischievously, he probably knew it, too, and that was exactly why he was trying to rile him up in the first place. “What did I do to deserve this?”
“Well,” Neil was outright grinning now. “For one, you talked Andrew into breaking off your deal, which was practically you welcoming me into the family if you think about it.”
Aaron didn’t deign that with a response, hoping the scowl on his face was enough to convey just how much he disagreed with that line of thinking.
And if he secretly acknowledged that he did consider Josten a part of his family, he would never admit that out loud.
The thought was enough to get him back on track, though; there were more important things to do right now than bicker. “What the fuck happened to you, Josten?”
Neil winced. “There was an accident on Main.” Aaron tried to tamp down his worry at that but wasn’t sure he succeeded because Neil deemed it necessary to quickly follow that statement up with, “I’m fine.”
Not that that particular line was able to reassure anyone when coming from Neil ‘I’m fine’ Josten.
At Aaron’s severely unimpressed look at his injuries, he amended, “It’s not as bad as it looks.” Neil gave the paramedics around them another dirty look. “I tried to tell as much to the medics, but they wouldn’t listen and forced me to the hospital.”
One of them scoffed, adding in a dry voice, “Your leg was lodged in between the floor and the dashboard, you were bleeding from a head wound, showing signs of a concussion and may have further injuries that couldn’t be determined yet because you refused to let anyone near you.” Aaron could recognise that tone—the particular strain of someone who'd been subjected to Neil Josten's special brand of insufferable for more than five minutes. Aaron was very much familiar with the feeling.
Before Neil could argue the—in Aaron's professional and personal opinion—very valid point, he turned to the nurses still lingering around them and gave them a dismissive look. “Thank you. I’ve got it from here.”
They scattered almost immediately, clearly more than happy to clear their hands off this nightmare of a patient and let him handle it instead.
Aaron put on gloves and examined Neil’s injuries. “I don’t know how you’re still alive, Josten. You are a mess.”
Neil rolled his eyes, wincing when the action obviously hurt. At Aaron's accusing look, Neil huffed in annoyance. “It’s really not that bad, I could have taken care of it myself had I been able to get home.”
Now it was Aaron’s turn to roll his eyes. “Had you been able, being the keywords here, Josten, and clearly you weren’t.” His first assessment confirmed most of Neil’s injuries to be surface wounds, so Aaron went on to check his pupils. “As to how bad your injuries are, let me be the judge of that; between the two of us I am actually a trained medical professional and spent the last 10 years of my life learning this shit.”
Neil, clearly not impressed by Aaron’s expertise, raised an eyebrow. “Well, between the two of us, I actually spent as good as my whole life identifying and treating injuries, and as someone who’s had plenty of concussions, I can assure you that I don’t have one right now.”
***
Neil did, in fact, have a concussion.
Neil was glowering as if this betrayal of his own body was the worst to have ever happened to him.
Aaron didn’t want to think about how bad his other concussions must’ve been for Neil to not register his current one as something noteworthy.
“Did you tell Andrew what happened?”
“My phone is dead,” Neil grumbled, slumping back like the device had betrayed him, too. “And besides, Andrew is on a plane right now, so he wouldn’t get to see my message for the next few hours anyway.”
Aaron regarded him with an unimpressed look, taking out his phone and sending his twin a quick message.
ur idiot boyfriend had an accident. patched him up at hospital. no need to worry. mild concussion + minor injuries. monitoring his concussion at ur place until u r back.
Deeming this update sufficient, Aaron put his phone back in his pocket. “We’re going.”
Neil frowned, looking confused. “Going where?”
“Your appartement, dumbass,” Aaron let out a sigh. “Since Andrew won’t be back for the next few hours, I’ll have to make sure you won’t do anything stupid while concussed.”
“Aww, I didn’t know you cared so much about my well-being, Aaron.”
“I don’t.” Aaron was aware that his actions over the last hour very much betrayed his words, but ignorance is bliss or whatever. “I just don’t want you doing something stupid unsupervised. Chances are, you would be back in the hospital by the end of the day and considering you won’t let anyone else treat you, I’d have to come back here when I’m off the clock.” Aaron sent Neil a dark look. “Again.”
“Sure,” Neil said, smug. “Keep telling yourself that.”
Aaron was about to retort just how much he didn’t care what happened to Josten's stupid ass when he noticed a nurse passing by them. He started to smirk when an idea hit him. “Excuse me,” he called. The nurse stopped next to them, raising her eyebrows in question. “Do you still need that?”
***
Neil was glowering again. “I can’t believe you forced me into this thing.”
Aaron was pushing the wheelchair towards the exit. “I told you, it’s hospital policy.” Aaron tried to stay serious but couldn’t stop his mouth from twitching.
Neil immediately zeroed in on the action and narrowed his eyes. “Hospital policy my ass,” he muttered, turning back around, and crossing his arms in front of him.
***
By the time they made it into the apartment, Neil was breathing hard. Aaron wasn’t faring much better—he’d had to half-carry Neil up the stairs after the idiot almost bashed his head open on the steps when he tried going up alone.
It may also have had to do with the fact that it’s been a while since he last saw a gym from the inside. He definitely lost some of his stamina since college. Maybe he should ask Neil about his workout regimen.
Or maybe not. It would probably involve going on a run at 5 in the morning. Ew.
“Don’t tell Andrew,” Neil muttered, “but those stairs are the worst.”
Aaron raised an eyebrow. Clearly, there was a story here.
Neil let out a defeated sigh. “When we were looking for apartments, Andrew said the stairs would be a bitch to get up when I inevitably ended up getting myself injured.”
Aaron couldn’t help but snort. “Oh, I don’t know, you clearly mastered those stairs just now,” he insisted. “10/10 performance.”
Neil groaned. Either in pain or at the prospect of Andrew being right, Aaron wasn’t sure. “I know he is just waiting to say I-told-you-so.” Probably both.
“Couch or bed?” Aaron asked.
“Bed, definitely bed.”
Aaron led Neil to the bedroom—and immediately froze at the sight of the sheets. “That motherfucker.”
Neil looked at Aaron in confusion, then followed his gaze to the bed. When he realised what Aaron was staring at in disbelief, he let out a laugh. “Oh, yeah.”
Aaron still couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “Since when do you have these?”
“When Katelyn mentioned those amazing sheets she wanted to buy and that they were currently used in a clinical trial for patients with scars and burns. Andrew bought them the next day.”
“I can’t believe he made fun of me for them even though he had them before us.” Actually, this was exactly the kind of thing Andrew would do.
Neil collapsed into the bed, releasing an exhausted sigh when he was snuggled into the sheets. “Now that you know, tell Katelyn they’re amazing.”
Aaron huffed. Unbelievable. “I’ll be on the couch and checking up on your concussion occasionally. Try not to die while I’m gone.”
Neil had his eyes closed and brought his hand to his forehead in a salute. “Aye aye, captain,” he mumbled.
Aaron was almost out the door when he turned back around. “I’m glad you’re okay, Josten.”
“Yeah,” Neil said softly, a small smile on his face. “Me too.”
***
Aaron was startled awake by a noise from down the hall. He rubbed his eyes before glancing at the clock. Half past four. He must have dozed off sometime after his last check on Neil.
The source of the noise appeared at the door to the living room. Andrew stared blankly at him, but Aaron could tell by the shadows beneath his eyes that he was tired.
“We have a perfectly fine guest room,” Andrew said flatly, making it sound like an accusation, but Aaron had learned by now not to take it as such. It was just Andrew's backhanded way of showing that he cared.
Aaron yawned. “Didn’t trust myself not to pass out in a bed.” He rolled his stiff shoulders, wincing as his neck gave an audible crack.
Andrew raised a mocking eyebrow. “Seems to have worked well for you.”
“Neil’s asleep,” Aaron said, going for the most reliable method of redirecting Andrew’s attention. “I’ve been checking up on him. He’s fine.” He wrinkled his nose in disgust at having accidentally used Neil’s catchphrase. He’s glad Neil wasn’t here to use this against him. “He’s due for another check-up in 20 minutes. There are painkillers and some cream in the kitchen,” he added.
When Andrew nodded once in response, Aaron stood. “I’m sleeping for 20 hours. Don’t wake me unless someone is dying.” He pointed an accusing finger at his twin. “And don’t think I’ll forget that you made fun of me for those sheets for months while being so whipped that you bought them for Neil at just the possibility of giving him comfort.”
Aaron could swear he saw Andrew’s lips twitch for a second. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You’re so full of shit.”
***
When he was finally in bed, ready to fall asleep, Aaron let out a contented sigh. It wasn’t his bed—wasn’t Katelyn’s warmth curled against him or her fingers combing through his hair—but it was close enough. Tomorrow, she’d be home, buzzing with adrenaline from a well-executed surgery, replaying every suture and incision in that animated way of hers. He could picture it so clearly: her voice soft and bright, her hands repeating every move as she spoke.
There was a time Aaron had wished, with every frayed nerve, for his family to disappear—or perhaps (and this was the quieter, sharper truth, the one that still caught in his throat when he thought about it for too long) for himself to dissolve into nothingness. He’d tried hard enough to make it happen.
Now, he found himself glad that they were here. That he was here with them.
He had long since accepted that family wasn’t something you could choose. Or rather, you couldn’t force it into shapes it couldn’t hold. But sometimes—when you least expected it, when you’d stopped believing it possible at all—it chose you anyway, ragged edges and all.