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The first words out of Aaron Sugden-Dingle's mouth (or was it Dingle-Sugden? God, he didn't want to know) when storming into Vic's living room was a bit predictable, yet always a welcome surprise for Robert.
“What's your angle here?”
He had just gotten out of the shower, too. Shame. Robert cocked his head with eyebrows raised, practiced and deliberate in their suggestion.
“I haven't the slightest clue what you're getting at,” He said easily. It really was like stepping into old shoes.
“The,” Aaron gestured his hands wildly, “The flipping farm, Robert. How the hell did you get the cash? Why the hell did you buy it in the first place? You hate farming.”
“A lot can change in six years, Aaron.”
“Oh, fuck off with that,” Aaron's eyes narrowed. It wasn't like Robert was trying to convince him, anyway. “You want something. More than your halfbaked excuse being for,” he air quoted, “'The Sugden name,' or whatever. You got this insane amount of money out of nowhere,“ Aaron stepped closer, “And don't bother telling me it's from an investment firm; I had all of our accounts, you idiot. You did something really stupid and shady, and now you can wind up in prison. Again.” His face was ablaze, teeming with righteous fury and the set jaw relayed an undercurrent of worry.
Robert shrugged, narrowing his eyes in annoyance.
“Yeah, cause you had nothing to do with last time,” He took another step closer. “Might as well save your number to the police database, if you're gonna be my keeper.” Robert's teeth bared with real, unfiltered anger seeping into his words. He couldn't seem to help it. That betrayal cost another two weeks of drowning in a concrete cell. Even if Aaron didn't know the extent of damage, it didn't stop the water sloshing in his ears.
“You know why I called them.”
“Cause you couldn't trust yourself not to shag me first chance you got, yeah,” Robert sneered. “Really showing your faith in your sham of a marriage.” They were only centimeters apart. He wanted to swallow the distance.
”You are such a nightmare,” Aaron glanced, then gazed, stared at his lips. Robert pushed his tongue out and swept across cracked skin.
”You love it.” A fact. The sky is blue, water is wet, and Aaron Dingle loved Robert Sugden when he was off his head, when he was a nightmare.
That's how the kissing started, anyway.
Aaron had grabbed his shirt collar and pulled them close, their lips crashing together with a ferocity Robert had missed like air in his lungs. Teeth clicked together, tongues pressing into mouths, it was like a firestorm had erupted in the living room.
Robert, moaning and panting into his mouth like a pent up teenager, was grabbing the back of Aaron's shirt when a hand was placed on his chest. Then he was shoved, slamming into the wall behind him. Hard.
Dazed and caught off guard, it took Robert a moment to focus back on Aaron stalking towards him like a cat that caught its prey. Before, this was basically foreplay to them. Robert loved to be manhandled, loved to be pushed and pulled and placed wherever Aaron had wanted, even (especially) if it left marks on his skin afterwards.
The issue was that these sorts of thrills were before.
Now, being shoved against a wall was seen less as a gesture of desire and passion, and more of a gesture of “I want to beat the everloving shit out of you.” Which would explain why Robert suddenly felt himself slip away, floating into space, his body completely detached.
Hands were placed on the wall either side of his head, bracketing him in and forcing a cage he couldn't get out of.
He was trapped.
Aaron's voice, distorted and muffled, was cooing to him softly. “You are such a windup, you know that?”
He could only nod. Hope that the agreement would be enough to let him off the hook this once.
“Say it, then,” Teeth and heat grazed his ear. Aaron was pressing closer. He couldn't speak. He couldn't do what Aaron wanted. At least, who he thought was Aaron. He couldn't move, he couldn't breathe, he was completely frozen in place. Panic had begun to sink in. His heart was beating out of his chest.
“I'm waiting, Robert.” The voice had only gotten closer, and the ringing had only gotten louder. Water filled his lungs.
He needed to run. It always hurt more when they knew his name. He needed to-he needed to-he needed to-
“Robert?”
he needed to-he needed to-heneededto-
“Robert, hey, look at me,” a hand was placed on his jaw.
the scream that emitted from his throat was something inhuman and only somewhat resembled “NO!"
his hands lashed out, clawing into fabric and skin, tearing apart whatever ribbons he could find with his nails. he was vaguely aware that he was still screaming.
'robert!'
knees gave out, leaving him a crumpled pile on the floor. the figure staggered back, dazed and swearing, giving him the opportunity to make a run for it. or at least a crawl. he turned his head for a better look at an exit, the sudden movement making him hurl into his mouth. saliva dribbled out of his lips as he threw himself to the side, scrambling away from the looming presence.
'fuck-robert, wait-'
there was the sound of a door slamming open. he was completely trapped. he was going to die. they'll collect his body in the morning.
'aaron? what the hell are you-' a pause, '-robert?'
'i-i-i don't know, he just-'
'oh my god, he's having a fit again-'
'what do you mean, again?'
inandoutinandoutinandout
they're watching him
they're studying him
they're gonna beat his face in
'aaron, go upstairs'
'what? no! vic-'
'upstairs, and i won't ask you again.' the voice sounded so much like vic.
Vic. Vic, who would hold him close as he cried in the early hours of the morning, who would show him how to use the new showerhead, who introduced him to whatever the hell 'coco melon' music Harry was listening to.
Vic was here.
the other pair of footsteps slowly trudged upstairs, and he could only hope Vic's was the one stepping closer.
'rob?' he peered an eye open. she was crouched across from him, her curious eyes now wide with worry. 'hey, do you know where you are?' he looked around. there was the couch that he napped on when the heaviness of his eyelids got to be too much. there was the tele that Vic had turned off for him in the late hours when she was saying goodnight. he was at his sister's house.
'your place?' his voice sounded worn, like rusting metal.
'yeah, bud. and it sounds like you know who i am, so bonus points for that.' her smile didn't reach her eyes. that made him sad. there was a creak upstairs, but before he could turn his head, Vic caught his eye again. 'hey, let's just focus on you and me, alright? do you wanna stand?'
'don't know if i can,' he admitted. his legs felt like jelly.
'that's okay, we can just hang out down here, then.' that was one thing about Vic he really liked. she didn't try to help him. she never tried to force him to do anything that would require someone else's touch. he wondered if that was communicated to her, or if she just knew intrinsically not to do it.
or if it was the memory of a black eye that kept her distance.
'i'm really scared, Vic.' her frown deepened.
'i know, rob, i am too.' she nodded to herself. 'hey, i just have to let someone out, and then i'll be right back, okay?'
'is Harry here? shouldn't he be in school?' another creak at the top of the stairs.
'no, no, not Harry. don't worry about it, okay? you're safe. just close your eyes and breathe for me.'
he did as he was asked.
the creaking got louder, and louder, and it became clear that someone was standing next to him. someone who wasn't Vic. he kept his eyes closed, burying his face in his knees. there was a footstep away, then another. a voice, quiet, rumbly, soft. familiar.
'Vic, i-'
'we'll talk about it later, okay? i just need to make sure he's safe.' there was a moment of silence. Vic's voice became a murmur, but he strained his ears to listen. 'please don't hold the lashing out against him, he's just-'
'scared.'
'yeah,' she confirmed. 'make sure john looks at the cuts, but-'
'i'm not gonna tell him,' there was something else in the voice suddenly. something like resolution. 'fuck, Vic. i didn't know it was this bad.'
'no one did. no one really does. i don't even-' she sighed. 'i don't even think this is the worst of it, aaron,' a lump formed in his throat. 'i'll talk to you later, okay?' the front door was opened, then shut.
'Vic?' he called out tentatively.
'here, robert,' he lifted his head again to see her plopping down across from him again. 'how's your breathing?'
'was aaron here?' there was something in her face that didn't register. she sighed again.
'yeah, lord knows why, but...' she looked away, then back at him. 'hey, you're you, okay? you're allowed to be you here. do whatever you need to.'
he nodded, and looked down at his shaking hands.
'i want to stop feeling scared.” he felt his eyes well up with tears.
Vic didn't say anything for a while, and they let the silence coat the air.
'i was scared for a long time after, you know,' an intake of breath. 'i still am. i still have nightmares and moments of terror. i still walk around this house like it's a crime scene sometimes.'
he absorbed the information slowly. then, 'how do you deal with it?'
'looking at the people i love, looking at the life i still have, looking at the joy i've made despite it all,' she smiled. it reached her eyes. 'it reminds me that i'm me, not some...'
'shell of a person?'
'yeah, exactly.' Vic sounded surprised, but regained control over her voice. 'i was never a shell of who i was, i'm just different. still Vic, just, with more things to sort out.' her hand landed on his shoulder, warm. 'and you, my good brother, have got a lot to sort out.'
Robert laughed, his tears momentarily forgotten.