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Aaron ran. Sweat beaded across his body, pooled around his neckline, under his armpits, leaving him damp and itchy. Every muscle in his body ached with exhaustion as the adrenaline that had fuelled him throughout the siege waned. Each breath burned his lungs, and his legs became increasingly shaky with each step. But there was something far more important than the protestations of his own body. There was something as essential to him as the very air in his lungs. He ran, even when his feet stumbled over the uneven ground, he ran.
The tree stood tall in the field, its branches stretching out in a wide circumference, the canopy covering the ground below it in shade. It was a marker, a beacon, a destination that Aaron ran towards, fuelled by sheer desperation. There was movement, a swaying body that staggered and swayed with each slow, unbalanced step. Aaron felt the air leave his lungs and he couldn’t suck in another breath. He couldn’t do anything at all for a moment but stare at the back of Eric’s head and feel his throat constrict and his chest burn. The world around him went still for a moment, frozen as if stopped in time, before everything seemed to crash around him, his entire existence splintered and fractured. He lurched forward, his husband’s name on his lips, his broken voice carried on the humid air.
“No.” The word was whispered with horror, with denial. He reached out, his fingers shaking, until he could grip Eric’s shoulder. The body before him came to a halt and Aaron’s heart hammered an erratic and violent pattern inside his chest. Heat filled his face and settled behind his eyes as Eric slowly turned. Aaron choked on a breath as he took in Eric’s clammy skin, his face entirely drained of colour, seemingly drained of life itself. Eric’s eyes – his beautiful eyes, eyes that Aaron had woken to every morning, had fallen asleep gazing into more nights than not – were now hazy and glazed over, staring but unfocused, unseeing.
“No,” he said again, trembling hands reaching up to cup Eric’s face, his own eyes searching the unresponsive eyes before him. His vision blurred and his cheeks felt wet. “Eric.”
A wet, rattling sound fell from Eric’s lips and Aaron squeezed his eyes closed, unable to bite back a wretched sob. And then, a soft, rasping, “Aaron.”
Another sob wrenched itself from Aaron’s chest, but this one was filled with relief. He tugged Eric to him, arms wrapping around his husband and he breathed his first full breath of air in too long. Taking another steading breath, Aaron dropped his hands to Eric’s abdomen. The jacket was still tied there, keeping pressure on the wound, but it was soaked with Eric’s blood.
“C’mon,” Aaron said, putting Eric’s arm over his shoulders. “Just one foot in front of the other. I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”
Eric’s body was heavy against his own, but it was a weight Aaron was always willing to bear. He had one arm around Eric’s waist, his other hand putting pressure on the wound. They staggered back towards the group, Aaron’s legs shaking and Eric’s feet dragging and stumbling. Aaron breathed, ragged but determined, his eyes fixed on the milling people and vehicles ahead. They got closer, close enough to hear the sounds of conversation, if not close enough to discern individual words, and then heads were turning towards them. Theo reached them first, putting Eric’s other arm over his shoulders and helping bear the weight. By the time they reached the vehicles, a gurney was cleared in the back of the van and Eric was taken from Aaron’s arms. Aaron reached for him, unthinking, but then Rick was sidestepping him.
“Let them get him settled,” Rick said, one hand to Aaron’s chest, holding him back. “They’ll stabilise him, get him back to the Kingdom.”
“I have to be with him,” Aaron said. His voice was tinged with panic, but no less resolute for that fact. He wrenched his eyes way from Eric to stare Rick down. “You can’t stand in my way. Not when it’s Eric.”
“I’m not tryin’ to,” Rick said, firm but placating. “I’m just askin’ you to give them some space to work. Get him hooked up, ready to travel, then you go with him.”
Aaron let out a breath, the tension draining from his body so suddenly it left him dizzy. He let his gaze slip back towards Eric again, barely visible beyond the soles of his shoes as the on-site medical team worked on him.
“I also gotta ask you a favour,” Rick said, drawing Aaron’s attention back to him for a moment. He shifted the baby on his hip “She needs a ride to the Kingdom. You’re headin’ there already. If it isn’t too much trouble…”
Aaron looked at the back of the van again, at the mud-encrusted soles of Eric’s shoes. He let out a breath. “Yeah, I… Yeah, I’ll take her.”
The baby was small, wrapped up in a blanket, soft against Aaron’s hands as he held her to his chest. Rick laid a hand on Aaron’s arm; his other hand pressed to the child’s back.
“Name’s Grace,” Rick said, his voice going hoarse. “Don’t know anythin’ else about her.”
“Her parents?”
Rick didn’t answer, and he didn’t have to: Aaron knew. The answer was clear on Rick’s face. Aaron didn’t push it, he just nodded, looking down at the baby, her wide eyes blinking up at him, her legs kicking gently.
“We’re ready,” Kurt called from the back of the van.
Aaron inhaled sharply, already in motion. Rick moved easily out of his way and Aaron held Grace in one arm as he climbed into the back of the van, taking Eric’s limp hand in his free one. The doors closed and the engine rumbled to life.
--
The rhythmic beeping of the monitors was a steady background noise. It had been hours, and Aaron took comfort in it, each electronic spike of sound signalling Eric’s continued heartbeat. Aaron’s eyes felt itchy, his eyelids heavy. He hadn’t slept in so long he’d lost track of the hours. Eric had been in surgery overnight, and Aaron had started wearing a groove in the waiting room floor by the time they wheeled him into recovery. He’d been sitting at Eric’s bedside ever since. The sun was shining in from the window opposite him, filtering in between the blinds and leaving long streaks of bright light stretching across the room and casting a pattern on Eric’s blankets.
Someone had taken the baby from him not long after he’d arrived. But a few short hours later she’d been passed back into his care, a pack of bottles and some cloth diapers to tide them over. There were too many injuries and far too many casualties from the war, and they were too shorthanded. Aaron didn’t know much at all about childcare, but he’d never been able to say no to a cause that tugged at his heartstrings. And little Gracie had grabbed those heartstrings in her tiny little fist and wouldn’t let go. It didn’t hurt that having someone else to focus on helped him deal with the stress of worrying over Eric while allowing him to stay by his side.
“I’m not dead,” Eric rasped, his mouth dry and his voice hoarse. The sound of it startled Aaron, his heart suddenly hammering in his chest as he adjusted the sleeping baby held in the crook of his arm.
“You’re awake,” Aaron said, sitting up in his seat. He took Eric’s hand in his free one and squeezed. His heart clenched when Eric squeezed back. “Do you want some water?”
“Is that a baby?” Eric asked, instead of answering, his brows furrowing. “That’s new.”
“Yeah,” Aaron laughed, breathy and tearful. “Yeah, uh, talk about a miracle. We’ve been trying for so long, I guess it finally worked.”
A bark of laughter burst from Eric, transitioning into a wheeze. Aaron raised out of his seat, shifting Grace so he could reach out, a hand to Eric’s chest.
“Hey, it’s alright,” Aaron murmured, making soothing sounds. “I’m sorry.”
“I always said that sense of humour would be the end of me,” Eric said, when his breathing settled. A smile stretched his lips, slow and lazy, his eyes half-lidded.
“I can’t help it,” Aaron said, his hand moving to cup Eric’s jaw, his thumb smoothing against his jaw, feeling the first scratch of stubble growing there. “I was gifted with good humour and perfect comedic timing.”
“It’s your cross, but I guess I’ll have to bear it too,” Eric said, watching him from half-lowered lids.
“Always suffering for our love,” Aaron said. His tone was light, carrying the joke, but it hit far too close to home for him to feel any mirth in it.
Eric’s smile only softened. “It doesn’t feel like suffering when it’s you.”
Aaron let out a breath. He squeezed Eric’s hand with his own and swallowed down the lump that had settled in his throat.
Eric shifted, his face contorting in pain before he settled heavily against the bed again with a pained groan. “This bullet wound might be a different story.”
“I’ll find the doctor,” Aaron said, already getting to his feet and trying not to jostle a sleeping Grace.
Eric clutched more tightly at his hand, giving Aaron pause.
“Stay,” he said, his eyes fully open again, and filled with a plea Aaron had rarely been able to fight against.
“I’m here,” Aaron said, lowering himself carefully back down into his seat. “I’m not going anywhere.”
In his arms, Grace made a sleepy sound and Aaron let go of Eric’s hand just long enough to resettle her, looking down at her chubby little cheeks as she heaved a sleepy sigh, her body going limp again. Aaron looked up to see Eric watching him.
“You’ve always been good with kids.”
“When we were working with the NGO,” Aaron replied. “I’ve never been responsible for a child. She’s so small.”
“I take it there’s a tragic backstory,” Eric said. And, when Aaron looked askance at him, elaborated, “Otherwise she’d be with her family right now.”
“Yeah, she– she’s an orphan. Everyone’s a bit snowed under, they haven’t found anyone to take her in yet.” Aaron shrugged, his gaze dropping down to Gracie again for a moment, feeling the jackrabbit beat of her tiny heart. “I brought her in with us, I guess I’m babysitter by default.”
“You’ve grown attached,” Eric said.
“I…” Aaron paused, taking a moment to look down at the child in his arms again. “I know we can’t keep her.”
“Can’t we?” Eric asked, and Aaron paused. His mouth dropped open and then closed again.
“We can’t?” he said, slowly, cautiously.
“It’s not like we never talked about it.”
Aaron swallowed thickly, his eyes meeting Eric’s. “That was before. And we never…”
“If it’s not what you want, that’s alright,” Eric said, with a small, slow shake of his head. “I’m just saying, if she needs a home, we have one. Although, we haven’t seen the doctor yet. Maybe you’ll be too busy changing my diapers to deal with more. If I– if I make it out of here.”
“You’re gonna be fine,” Aaron insisted, rising out of the chair again so that he could lean across the mattress until his face was inches from Eric’s. “The doctor said the surgery went well, so if you woke up, chances were good you could make a full recovery. Even if you didn’t, I’d take care of you. As long as you’re alive, Eric, I– that’s all I want.”
“Have I told you lately how much I love you?” Eric asked.
Aaron dropped his head down to rest his forehead against Eric’s shoulder and let out a breathy laugh. Grace squirmed against his chest, protesting against the change in position.
“Every day,” Aaron answered.
“Good,” Eric said, reaching up to rest his hand against Aaron’s cheek. “I plan on telling you that for hundreds more days after this.”
Aaron’s eyes slipped closed, his lashes feeling suspiciously damp again. “I love you too.”
“I know.” Eric smiled, soft and sweet, and Aaron leaned his face into Eric’s palm. “When we get home…”
“I’ll ask,” Aaron said, pressing a kiss to Eric’s forehead before settling back in the chair again. “And we’ll talk about it. Babies are a lot of work.”
“We’ve never shied away from a little hard work before,” Eric pointed out. “You said she was a miracle. Maybe you weren’t so far off.”
“I always wanted…” Aaron trailed off, unable to finish the sentence, unable to give voice to the words to give someone a more loving home than I had growing up.
“I know,” Eric replied, soft and tired. “I know.”
Aaron let out a long, slow exhale. “You should get some rest.”
“You should too,” Eric pointed out. “At least ask for a basket to put her down.”
“I will,” Aaron promised. “When they do their rounds to check on you. I’m not going anywhere.”
Eric hummed out a non-committal sound. “They’ve got the good drugs out here.”
“Yeah, enjoy that while you can,” Aaron replied, shaking his head despite his smile. “There’s a limited supply.”
“I appreciate it,” Eric said, his words starting to slur.
“Sleep,” Aaron said. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”
And he was. Aaron was there when Eric woke up for thousands of days to come.