Work Text:
The rhythmic beeping of hospital machines was the first thing Aaron noticed as he slowly woke up. The second thing he noticed was how his entire body felt like it was aching, as though – well, as though he’d been thrown off a cliff.
The panic that rose in his throat was something Aaron couldn’t help, couldn’t quell, the memories coming back to him in a rush – the cottage, the drugs, John, all that he’d confessed to, the hurt, and the pain, the death he’d caused.
Aaron forced his eyes to open, looking around the blank expanse of the hospital room. He’d been here enough times to know it was Hotten General, the room familiar. His throat felt dry as he tried to speak, croaking out the name. “Robert?” he managed, terrified to know where the other man was – how the police had reacted when they had gotten to the gorge, Aaron and John lying at the base of the cliff, how it all must have looked for Robert.
“You’re alright, love, he’s in police custody.”
His mum.
That was his mum.
Aaron tried to turn his head, his mum’s blurry face close to his. “Mum,” he managed to croak the word out, giving her a confused look. Why would Robert be in police custody? Robert hadn’t done anything wrong.
He couldn’t manage to get those words out, though, which was the problem.
“You don’t need to be scared, Aaron.”
The voice sent chills down Aaron’s spine. John. John was here – and he was sitting by his bedside, playing the doting husband. He looked fine, the cut on his forehead that had been there before the drop off the cliff was just about the only thing that was wrong with him. He was fixing Aaron with an expectant look.
“Robert is back in prison – where he belongs,” John continued, stroking a hand down Aaron’s arm. Aaron wanted to throw up, John’s touch making him feel sick to his stomach. It was a stark contrast to a few days previously, when he was trying so hard to make the best of his relationship with John, grateful for how much the other man had loved him.
Loved him.
Everything had been a lie, a manipulation, a way to keep Aaron under control.
“I don’t – I don’t remember,” Aaron lied, and he really hoped John believed him. He needed to buy himself some time, get his mum alone, explain to her what had really happened – and he needed John to not be suspicious of him. “I – I was in bed,” he said, memories of his stumbling trek through the woods coming flooding back.
Mackenzie.
He needed to save Mackenzie.
“You’re alright now,” John said, and even his smile made Aaron want to be sick, never mind the way he leaned in, pressing a kiss to Aaron’s sweat-damp forehead. Aaron wanted to punch him.
Aaron felt sleep tugging at his consciousness, his body still aching. He needed to fight, he needed to stay awake – he needed to get John out of his hospital room, so he could tell his mum everything.
He needed –
He needed –
He –
“Yeah, me and you against the world.”
“Me and you against the world.”
Aaron felt groggy, as he looked at the nurse who was fiddling with his IV.
“How are you feeling, Aaron?” she asked, her expression kind. The hospital staff were treating him with kid gloves, and Aaron got it, really, he did – they all thought that his ex-husband had chucked him, and his current husband, into a gorge – but it was hard to feel at ease when the man responsible for so much hurt, and pain, and death, was sitting next to him, holding his hand.
“I’m okay,” Aaron croaked out, trying to catch her eye. “What – what’s wrong with me?”
“You’ve got a nasty concussion – probably explains why your head feels a bit funny, at the minute,” she explained, glancing at John, giving him a bright smile. “You’ve got a right doting husband on your hands here – he wouldn’t go home to sleep, wanted to stay with you.”
Yeah.
To make sure he kept his mouth shut.
John flashed the nurse one of his brilliant smiles, the kind Aaron had trusted so blindly for a year. How could he have been such a fool? Why didn't he see it? “How could I leave him, eh? I nearly lost him – need to make sure he’s okay.”
Make sure he stays quiet. Make sure that Aaron really didn’t remember what had happened.
“Give me a quick look here, Aaron,” the nurse encouraged, flashing a penlight into his eyes. “Nice and reactive – that’s what I want to see. You’re doing well, Aaron.”
Aaron gave her a pleading look, making sure John was distracted by something on his phone before he tried to get her to understand.
‘Help’ he mouthed at her, the nurse’s eyes going wide. ‘Help.’
“Good morning, Mr Dingle,” a new voice greeted, an unfamiliar doctor entering his room. Her hair was sandy blonde – the same as Robert’s, he noted – and she was giving him a reassuring smile. “How are you feeling this morning?”
“’m alright,” Aaron mumbled, his mouth still feeling like it didn’t quite belong to him. Surely the drugs were out of his system now – maybe it was purely psychological, how he was feeling, maybe it was John’s lingering presence that was making him feel that way.
“Glad to hear it – I’m Dr Palmer, I’ve been leading on your care since you arrived to us. We’re just going to take you down for another MRI, make sure everything is as it should be after your fall.”
John practically leapt to attention. “Why would you need to do that? He already had one, when he got here.”
Dr Palmer fixed John with a stern look. She was young – probably only Aaron’s age – but she had a commanding presence in the room that Aaron had to admire. “Mr Sugden,” she addressed calmly. “While I appreciate you are concerned for your husband, and you have told my staff – repeatedly – that you are a medic, I did attend university to get a medical degree, and I tend to know best how to treat my own patients.”
Aaron swallowed a giggle. It was nice to see someone put John in his place, knowing what he knew now.
John looked nervous. “Can I – can I come too?”
“Obviously not, no,” Dr Palmer offered John a sweet smile. “He won’t be long,” she reassured. “How about you get yourself a cup of coffee, and we’ll have Aaron back to you in no time.”
John had clearly run out of arguments, deciding instead to press a kiss to Aaron’s forehead, the action making Aaron’s stomach churn. “See you soon, love.”
Aaron didn’t trust himself to do anything except nod, the hospital staff wheeling him out of the room. There was a tense silence in the hallway as they moved, Dr Palmer’s heels clicking against the linoleum floor as they passed through swinging doors, the hospital staff taking a sharp left, rather than a right to where he knew the MRI machine was, pushing Aaron into a private room, windows covered by tightly drawn curtains, giving him his first moment of privacy in days.
“Aaron,” Dr Palmer fixed him with a serious look. “You told Claire that you needed help. Please – talk to us, tell us what we can do.”
Aaron felt so relieved he could cry. The nurse had listened – she’d understood. “I – John, he’s the one who pulled us both off the cliff,” he managed to splutter out. “He’s framing Robert. You need – you need to call the police. He’s killed people – he’s kidnapped Mackenzie Boyd, I know where he is. You need to get me the police - now.”
Dr Palmer looked over her shoulder, giving a nod to one of the hospital staff. “We’ll get them now,” she reassured. “I’m going to stay right here with you, Aaron, okay?”
“He’s going to get suspicious – he’ll try and find me,” Aaron couldn’t help the tears, now, terror clawing at his throat.
“He won’t – I’m going to get hospital security up by your room, to keep an eye on him. Okay?” Dr Palmer tried to give him a reassuring smile. “Aaron – you’re safe now, I promise. I'm not going anywhere - you're safe.”
Safe.
Maybe he was, for now – but John was still free to roam the hospital as he pleased, and Mackenzie was stuck in a fucking war bunker, and Robert was in prison. They weren’t safe – none of them were, and it was all Aaron’s fault.
Dr Palmer peaked through the curtains before she opened the door to Aaron’s new room, ushering the police in quickly.
“Mackenzie – Mackenzie Boyd, I know where he is,” Aaron blurted out. “There’s an old bunker, from the war, close to John’s cottage, in the forest – he’s been keeping him down there. You need to get to him. He’s hurt, I don’t know how badly, but he needs help. Please. You need to find him.”
PC Swirling, to his credit, got straight on his radio, relaying the information to his colleagues. “They’ll start searching for him,” he reassured, edging a bit closer. “Aaron – the hospital staff said that you’re accusing John of throwing you off the cliff.”
“I’m not accusing him – I know he did it,” Aaron snapped back. He wasn’t lying, he knew what had happened to him. “I know he did it – I remember it all. He was drugging me. He’d found out – he’d found out that I slept with Robert, behind his back, and he started drugging me, to keep me – to keep me quiet. You’ve got the wrong man in custody.”
PC Swirling didn’t look convinced. “Mr Sugden – the one we’ve got in custody – he said the same, that it was John who pulled you off the cliff,” he paused, for a second. “The evidence was pretty damning, however. Given Robert's criminal history, we couldn't ignore it - not when we have that phonecall on record, and John provided us with a video of Robert hitting him over the head with a wrench.”
Aaron sighed. Of course did - of course John had managed to plan this out too, just like he had everything else. “He – okay, that happened,” he shook his head. Robert should have hit him harder, frankly. “But he’s not lying about John throwing me off the cliff with him. He said – he said if he couldn’t have me, no one could, and he threw us both off. John, he – he confessed everything. He told me that he’s the one who killed Nate – he’s been deliberately hurting people. You have to believe me, please. You have to find Mack – that’s proof, right? That’ll prove I’m not lying.”
A quick knock on the door drew all of their attention, Dr Palmer heading for the curtains. Satisfied by whoever she saw out there, she opened the door a crack.
“He’s getting annoyed,” a muffled voice explained. “I told him there’s a queue for imaging, but he’s getting antsy.”
“Please – please, you have to believe me,” Aaron practically sobbed, the idea of John ever coming near him again too much to bear. He’d die, if John was allowed to be near him again. “You can’t let him find me.”
PC Swirling exchanged a look with his colleague, looking convinced by Aaron’s genuine terror. “We could – we could say we had a few more questions to ask, about Mr Sugden’s – Robert’s – involvement,” he tried, his colleague nodding. “If they find Mr Boyd – we’d have enough to arrest him, on the spot.”
“Please – please, you have to keep him away,” Aaron begged, his heart racing. He was having a panic attack – he’d had enough of them in his life to know the signs, to know what was happening.
“Aaron, Aaron – look at me,” Dr Palmer’s voice was a calm contrast to the panic Aaron was feeling. “It’s okay – we’ll keep him away. If I have to barricade this door, with the two of us inside, I will. Alright?”
Aaron managed to splutter out a panicked laugh. “Won’t that get you in trouble?”
Dr Palmer shrugged. “Not if it’s all in the name of patient care,” she grinned, glancing at the police officers. “Well? Are you going to go and speak to this man, and stop panicking my patient, please?”
That was PC Swirling told, then.
Dr Palmer ushered them out of the door, careful as she locked the door behind them. “Now,” she huffed out a breath. “How are you doing? Really?”
Aaron wasn’t sure how to answer that question, if he was being honest. He’d been in survival mode ever since he woke up, desperate to get away from John and tell someone, anyone, the truth – he’d not had any time to think about how he feels, not really.
“I feel – I feel like an idiot, for having not seen him for who he really is,” Aaron admitted. “He’s my husband – how did I miss all the signs?”
Dr Palmer fixed him with a serious look, perching on the edge of the hospital bed. “I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you that a man like that is a good manipulator, Aaron,” she offered, crossing her legs at the knee. “It isn’t your fault.”
It isn’t your fault.
It isn’t your fault.
Aaron was supposed to know that, now – he’d been through the counselling, he’d had the family liaison officer from the police tell him over, and over again that everything that had happened wasn’t his fault. He knew what a manipulative man was, and still – he’d missed every red flag that John had been laden down by.
“It feels like it is,” Aaron sighed, blinking away fresh tears. “My best friend might be – he’s locked in a bunker, somewhere, thinking no one is coming to save him. I couldn’t save him – I couldn’t save myself.”
“But you did save yourself – you managed to ask one of the nurses for help,” Dr Palmer countered, tucking her bright blonde hair behind her ears. Her mannerisms, the way she spoke – it reminded Aaron so much of Vic. His heart ached at the thought of what she was going through – one brother in prison, accused of trying to kill the other. This was all going to break her heart, especially when she found out the truth about John, how blindly she'd trusted a man who'd caused nothing but pain. “The police are out looking for your friend. They’re doing their best.”
Aaron was quiet, for a second. “He knew all the right buttons to press,” he said. “John – he knew about all the bad things that had happened to me, in my life, and he knew how to use it all against me. He said – he said…” he paused, not sure if he had the right words to explain himself, or if he wanted to explain what had happened.
Dr Palmer gave him an encouraging look. “Take your time. It’s okay.”
“My dad – he uh, he raped me, when I was a child,” Aaron said, and it had been nearly ten years since the court case, ten years since Gordon was sent down, and still, it never got easier to say, never got easier to admit to anyone what had happened to him. “John – he was saying this thing, that my dad used to say – that it was me and him against the world – and it’s making me want to tear my own skin off, if I’m honest.”
He wasn’t sure how else to describe it. The words had come out of John’s mouth, and suddenly Aaron was eight years old again, terrified and begging for his dad to stop, to leave him alone. John knew – Aaron had sat and told him the whole sorry story – and yet he’d still used the words against him.
“I’m really sorry that you had to go through that, and relive those memories, Aaron,” Dr Palmer offered him a warm smile. “I can have someone from the mental health unit come and speak to you later, if you’d like.”
Aaron shook his head. He didn’t want to have to tell the story to someone else – not again. “I have a therapist – she’s based in Leeds,” he explained, thinking of the kindly woman who he’d been seeing ever since Robert had found for him, Emily specialising in dealing with people who’d been sexually abused as children. “I’ll make an appointment with her, when I’m out of here. I swear.”
Dr Palmer nodded, seemingly satisfied by his promise. “How’s your head?” she asked, giving him the change of subject he’d been so desperate for, there and then.
“Sore,” Aaron admitted. “But I’ve had worse.”
Before their conversation could continue, Dr Palmer’s phone rang. “Hello?” she greeted, eyes wide as she listened to whoever was speaking on the other side. “Okay – thank you for telling me.”
She tucked her phone in her pocket, giving Aaron an encouraging smile. “They’ve found your friend, Mackenzie,” she explained. “He’s alive, Aaron – he’s not very well, but he’s alive, and he’s in an ambulance on the way here.”
Aaron couldn’t help but burst into tears at the news. Mack was alive – he was alive. Aaron had been so scared, that they would be too late, or that John had lied, that Mack had been dead this whole time, but they’d found him, they’d found him.
“Mr Sugden - the other Mr Sugden - is being arrested as we speak,” Dr Palmer reassured. “Can I call someone for you? Your mum, maybe?”
Maybe it was – well, maybe it was bad, but Aaron didn’t much fancy seeing his mum, or anyone else, just now, didn’t want to sit as they cried and wondered how John had pulled the wool over their eyes. He couldn’t handle it – couldn’t handle everyone else’s grief while he was still trying to deal with his own.
There was only one person he really wanted to see.
“Can you – can you ask PC Swirling to ask Robert to come see me, when they release him? Robert Sugden – my ex-husband,” Aaron found himself asking, appreciating the fact Dr Palmer didn’t question the oddity of the request. She was nice. If you could leave a review for hospital professional of the year, Aaron would.
Dr Palmer nodded, tucking her phone under her chin as she called someone to make the request.
“Now,” she huffed out, sitting on the edge of Aaron’s bed, once the phone call had been made. “Tell me something good about yourself, Aaron.”
“You don’t have to wait with me.”
Dr Palmer raised an eyebrow. “I don’t have to do anything – but I’d like to,” she said. “You’ve had an objectively terrible day. I’d rather you didn’t have to sit and wait alone.”
“If you’re sure,” Aaron didn’t want to put the stranger out, but he couldn’t deny that it felt nice to have the company, given all that had gone on. John might be in police custody now, but Aaron wasn’t sure if he’d shake the fear that the other man was waiting outside the door for a long time yet.
“I’m sure,” Dr Palmer confirmed. “Now – something good. Or I can start, if you’d like.”
Aaron wasn’t sure how much time had passed, when there was a knock on the door.
“That’ll be for you,” Dr Palmer grinned, clapping her hands together, and moving to stand up.
“Uh – thanks,” Aaron interjected quickly, before she could go too far. “For keeping me company, Dr Palmer.”
“Oh please,” she shook her head, blonde hair flying everywhere. “Call me Sarah. We’re friends now.”
Aaron couldn’t help but smile to himself. Sarah. Of course her name was Sarah – that was something Robert, and Vic would get a kick out of in a few weeks’ time, when all of this felt less raw.
His attention was drawn to the argument happening at the door.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Dingle, but I’m your son’s doctor, and my duty of care is to him – he told me he didn’t want to see anyone except Robert Sugden, so I won’t be letting anyone except Robert into the room. You are very welcome to go and get a coffee and wait, however.”
There was a bit more arguing, some shuffling, and then –
“Robert,” Aaron breathed his name as though it was a prayer – and maybe it was, in some ways. Aaron had never been a religious man but the way he’d felt about Robert had always been nothing short of devout.
Robert looked terrible. He was wearing the same clothes he had been on Monday, when it had all kicked off, that new blue jumper that brought out the green in his eyes, and he was shaking. The dark circles under his eyes looked as though they needed planning permission, and he was hovering at the end of Aaron’s bed, as though he was afraid to come any closer.
“Robert,” he repeated, a bit more forcefully this time. “Are you going to stand down there all day like a lemon?”
Robert folded his hands under his armpits; a tell-tale sign he was trying to hide how badly he was shaking. “Why did you want to see me?”
Aaron couldn’t help but frown. “I wanted to make sure you were alright,” he paused, for a second. “They told me you’d been in police custody. I knew you wouldn’t be alright after that.”
It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Robert would struggle, even if it had just been a night or two in police custody – there was so much about Robert’s time in prison Aaron didn’t know about, but he knew enough to know that it had been bad, beyond bad, and if Robert just went back to the village and didn’t see anyone, he’d spiral, he’d have a breakdown like he’d had a few weeks ago, and Aaron wouldn’t be there to help him.
And if he was being entirely honest -
Aaron wanted to see Robert. He’d had ten years to reflect, ten years to understand why it had been Robert who he’d first told about Gordon, why Robert had felt like a safe place to land, despite all the ways they’d hurt each other.
Robert had listened - and he’d understood. He’d done his best to do right by Aaron, to make sure Gordon was sent down - but the part that had meant the most, back then, and in the years that followed, was the way Robert dealt with the Gordon of it all. Robert had been gentle, and kind, willing to go at Aaron’s - often glacial - pace. He’d sat up all night with Aaron on the nights he couldn’t sleep, had coaxed him out of nightmares and flashbacks - had found Claire, his therapist. Robert had never held it against him, used it against him, not after they got together properly, all those years ago. Aaron had forgiven him for the ways he’d used Aaron’s self harm against him during the affair - how could he not, when Robert’s touch had been reverent, in all the years that followed?
Aaron knew this, all of this - the way John had claimed it was the two of them against the world - was going to trigger him massively. He’d call Claire, he would - but for now, stuck in this hospital room, he needed the one person who’d never made him feel like a victim.
Robert.
“Robert, I’m in pain, and my head is fucking spinning - can you just come here, please?” Aaron demanded tiredly, Robert shuffling closer, the squeak of his trainers against the hospital floor the only sound in the room.
Squinting, slightly, Aaron examined the other man carefully. He was shaking, full body shakes now, not something he could hide with crossed arms and a brave face. Aaron wasn’t sure he’d ever seen Robert look quite this bad.
“I watched you go over that cliff,” Robert managed to get the words out, tears rolling down his cheeks. Aaron thinks he’d seen Robert cry more times in the past two months than he had in all the years they were together.
“I’m here, I’m okay,” Aaron tried to reassure him, reaching out for one of Robert’s hands. He was cold - Robert was always cold anyway, prone to wearing two jackets and a jumper as soon as the winter chill began to hit, always the one to crank the temperature of the electric blanket, when they were married. Aaron knew his days spent in custody probably hadn’t been particularly cosy, or warm.
With shaking hands of his own, Aaron took Robert’s hands in his, trying his best to warm his cold, aching fingers.
“It’s my fault,” Robert looked as though he wanted to rip his hands out of Aaron’s grasp, which only made Aaron hold on tighter.
“How on earth is this your fault?”
“I just - I couldn’t leave well enough alone. I came storming in, shouting and screaming, and I made it all worse.”
Aaron sighed. “Look - you didn’t help, there, I won’t lie to you,” he said, and it was something he’d file away to think about later: the way Robert had reacted in such a panicked, frenzied way, all sense out the window as he shouted Aaron’s name over, and over. “But - even if what I was doing worked, I’m not sure John would have called the police, Robert. Maybe he’d have dragged me away, even further, this time - we’ll never know. Right? But what I do know - is that I’m okay. Mack is okay. You’re okay.”
“I’m not - I’m really not,” Robert practically choked out the words.
“You will be,” Aaron’s mouth quirked up in the beginnings of a grin. “Funny, this - I’m the one in a hospital bed, and you’re making it all about you.”
Robert rolled his eyes, wiping roughly at his tearstained face. “I’m traumatised, leave me be.”
“Join the club, mate,” Aaron grinned, shuffling slightly so there was room for Robert to sit down on the edge of his hospital bed. He should tell him. He needed to tell him. “I - there was another reason, I wanted to see you.”
Robert sat down, giving Aaron an expectant look. He rarely listened, did Robert, but he always managed to be a good listener when it counted.
“John said some things, out on the cliff - he said that it was me and him against the world,” Aaron said, and Robert’s wince was telling. It was a phrase that Robert had valiantly avoided, in the years they were together, even if it had so often felt like it was the two of them against the world. He’d found other ways to say it. “I feel like I’m crawling out of my skin, Robert, and I needed to see you - because you’re the only person who’s ever been able to make my brain quiet when this happens.”
Robert pressed a gentle finger to Aaron’s wrist, the steady thrum of Aaron’s heartbeat a reassurance to him. Aaron knew it was, because Robert had done it enough times, after the crash, after prison, in the years they were married.
“Will you stay?” Aaron asked, and nothing was fixed, not really - he’d not even really begun to process the John of it all, and he knew that Robert had his own trolley-load of demons to fight, and Aaron desperately, desperately wanted to stand under the hottest shower he could find and scald his body until it felt like his own again, but he couldn’t, he wouldn’t, he wasn’t going to fall back into tried and true patterns of hurt.
This was enough, for now.
Robert nodded, finger still pressed to Aaron’s pulse point. “As long as you want me.”
Forever, if he had a say in the matter - but Aaron knew the beginnings of their forever redux were a few hundred miles and a couple of fights down the road.
But he was tired.
Really tired.
Tired -
But safe.
(Finally).