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Aaron can’t rest, despite the doctor’s insisting he must. He’s lying in a hospital bed—his head still throbs whenever he moves—but he’s desperate. Mack’s in a hospital bed and Robert, Robert of all people, is in prison while Aaron is lying there, resting. The worry gnaws at his stomach and makes it impossible to rest properly and the nurses fret and the doctors tell him to calm down but he can’t.
Worse than the worry is the guilt. How could he not see what John was? How could he be so naive, even when people were telling him something was wrong? He should’ve known, or noticed, and it keeps him awake in the dark hospital room until the drugs and the humming and whirring of machines lulls him into a sleep that gives him no rest.
His existence narrows down to moments of exhausted consciousness between fits of sleep; whenever he wakes up, there is a different person at his bed. It rotates between Chas, Paddy, and Vic who watch him, hand him water, tell him the news.
It sorts itself out, somehow, while time passes and stretches thin. The police visit him again, asking questions and writing down details. There’s so much damage to go through, so many things John admitted to and Aaron has to repeat himself, telling it all over again until his voice is hoarse and it’s all he can do. When Aaron asks about Robert, DS Jordan looks like he’s swallowed something sour but he gives in, tells Aaron that the court is processing the request for release as they speak. Some of the guilt lifts off him; at least one wrong can be corrected.
He doesn’t know how many days pass but after some time, he wakes up to see a familiar mop of hair and strong set of shoulders by the bed.
Robert’s hunched forward, one hand on his face, his hair messy as if he’s been running his hands through them.
“Robert?” Aaron croaks and Robert’s head shoots up, looking at Aaron. A weight lifts from Aaron’s chest but is quickly replaced by another. Robert’s been beaten, that much is obvious. He’s got a bruised cheek and a split lip, red and swollen. His eyes are sunken and dark bags underlie them.
“Aaron,” he says and the worry lines melt off his face. His chin wobbles and he looks down at Aaron’s hand as if he wants to grab it. “I thought I’d lost you, I—”
“It’s alright,” Aaron says. “I’m alright… When did you get out?”
Robert looks up at the clock on the wall. “Two hours ago. Came straight here,” he says with a small smile. “Had to know you were okay.”
Aaron’s heart swells a little and his eyes blur with unshed tears. “Are you alright?” he asks Robert, and he watches as Robert puts up a front.
“Fine,” he says and Aaron sees the wall that has come up around him, the pain he’s trying to hide. Aaron lets him; it’s not his place to break down Robert’s walls, not any more. “I’m out of prison, at least. How are you?”
Aaron lays his head back on the pillow and feels the tears trickle down his cheek. There’s too much; John, Mack, Robert… Everything’s such a mess and it’s all Aaron’s fault. He sucks in a deep breath and wipes his face with his hand. “I don’t know how I didn’t see it, what he was…”
“It’s not on you, Aaron. You weren’t to know. He manipulated everyone,” Robert says kindly.
“Not you, or Mackenzie.”
Robert watches Aaron with concern in his eyes. “Nothing he did is your fault.”
Aaron can’t stop the tears that fall, so he lets them. They sit in silence until Aaron can breathe easily again. “How’s Mackenzie, do you know?”
“He’s out of surgery—they needed to fix his ankle, it was broken pretty badly.”
“God, it’s all such a mess,” Aaron says.
Robert lowers his head again, unable to look Aaron in the eye. “I’m so sorry, Aaron.”
“No—”
“I ruined it all, I should never have shown up—”
“None of that,” he says, cutting in. “There was no way John would have let met go, not after he told me all that stuff he’s done…” It makes him furious with the world, with himself. That he could let himself fall in love with someone like John.
“I was just trying to look out for you,” Robert admits. “I heard that he found out about us and I was worried about what he would do to you.”
It makes Aaron go quiet; it’s so specific that there must be something behind it. “Why?”
Robert runs a hand through his hair and looks around the room. “He… he pushed me, that day with the wrench. I—I’m not saying what I did was right, but he got me in a headlock, he frightened me, did exactly what he had to to make me snap.” Robert looks down at his feet. “It’s like he knew exactly how bad it got in there and he used it against me.”
Aaron’s fists clench on the sheets. “You looked like you’d seen a ghost, like you weren’t there…”
Robert meets his gaze and he looks pained. “I was lost in memories of being inside and I did the only thing that worked when I was in there. I hurt him.”
“Robert, I am so sorry—”
“Don’t,” Robert says, cutting him off. “Of course you believed your husband, what else were you going to do?” He takes in a deep breath and winces slightly, putting a hand to his side. He sighs and meets Aaron’s gaze. “Got a cracked rib, that’s all.”
He looks over at Robert and the distance between them is almost tangible; the last time they were like this, one of them in hospital, they were all gentle kisses and comforting touches. His hand itches to read over and at the same time, the six years have wedged between them. There’s still too much to talk about, too many wounds that need to heal.
Robert must notice because smiles sadly. “I hate what he’s done to you, seeing you go off that cliff…”
Aaron knows what it feels like; seeing Robert battered and bruised always makes his chest ache. “I’m alright,” he says again, and at least that brings a genuine smile to Robert’s face.
“I know,” he says. “I’ll leave you to get some rest, yeah?”
“Thank you, for coming there to help me,” Aaron says when Robert reaches the door.
Robert turns around and smiles, though it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Get some rest, okay? We can talk when you’re out.” With that, Robert leaves and Aaron’s left alone with his guilt. It has lessened, a little, and he falls asleep with ease.
He is released a week later; he can’t go home, not after everything. The flat is covered in John, in his things, his memory, and Aaron can’t stomach it. Liam kindly offers to get some of his clothes and Aaron hands over the key, happy to be rid of it. Instead, he gets a room at the pub which puts him in close quarters with everyone in his family that he has just hurt.
With everything that has happened, Chas starts looking at Aaron like he’s a wounded puppy, tip-toeing around him and being careful with what she says. At least she has stopped looking so angry when Aaron mentions Robert. The glances and rolling eyes have become grudging respect as the Dingles have realised that Robert was right; that Robert came to check on Aaron and wasn’t responsible for Aaron’s fall off a cliff has helped everyone’s opinion of him.
It means that Robert is a welcome sight in the pub where before he was tolerated, at best. It’s nice to see but it makes it difficult to be in the pub because the chance that Robert’s there is higher.
The bruises are fading slowly and he no longer clutches at his side when he gets up. He’s sitting with Moira and Vic, talking in hushed voices over lunch when Aaron walks through from the back. They eyes meet and Aaron feels that distance, ever-present and wrong. Robert looks at him like he loves him. It makes it impossible to ignore but it’s impossible for Aaron to heal, to move on from his failed marriage to a man he thought he could trust.
He sits at the bar, gets an orange juice because he’s on a strict no-alcohol diet while he’s on painkillers and recovering and he can hear Robert’s voice behind him. It’s like a homing device, the way his body seems overly aware of Robert’s presence. They’re talking about farming but while Aaron drinks, Vic leaves for work and Moira leaves for the farm, leaving Robert alone.
Aaron takes a deep breath and turns around, finding Robert’s eyes distant, as if he’s somewhere completely different.
“Hi,” Aaron says, putting a hand on a chair next to Robert’s. “Can I—?”
“Sure,” Robert says with a small smile. He’s got a hand around a pint but he’s been nursing it for a while.
“You look better,” Aaron says, wincing internally at the way it sounds. In another life, it would be flirty. In this one, it’s concern after a beating.
“Thanks,” Robert says with an odd look on his face. “You too.”
It’s awkward, this gulf between them. Aaron’s mouth goes dry. He isn’t sure what he wants and now that they’re sitting next to each other, all easy and comfortable, he feels an odd ache in his chest. He opens his mouth to speak but he doesn’t know what to say. The reasons they were apart have evaporated but he can’t bring himself to move closer, to put his hand on Robert’s.
“I know I said all sorts before you left with—” the name is left unspoken and Aaron feel another rush of guilt.
“I was an idiot.”
“No, Aaron… You told me you didn’t want to be with me and I should have listened.” Another sad smile accompanies this and Aaron misses when Robert smiles enough to bring out the lines around his eyes, when his eyes sparkle. “You know I’ll always love you.” Robert’s voice is low, now, as if there’s no one in the pub but them.
Aaron holds Robert’s gaze, watches the blue-green eyes shine in the light of the Woolpack and in that moment he realises that they’ve got time, now. Time to figure this out.
“I just think we should try being friends,” Robert says. “I know I could use one.”
“Friends,” Aaron says, testing out the word in his mouth. It’s a far cry from ex-husband, boyfriend, and all the other titles they have had for each other. “I like that,” he says with a small smile.
Robert’s right about one thing; they are both a mess right now. Aaron’s not sleeping and the guilt keeps him from eating, and he can barely look Cain in the eye after everything that’s happened.
Maybe friends is a good place to start, a way to move forward without getting lost in the past.