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It's six months since the moment they started talking about getting Seb back that they actually get to see him again.
There was everything with John and the blackmail and them moving standing between them and Seb, but now they're settled in Butlers and there's an empty room there just waiting for Seb to eventually occupy it and it's time to try again.
The room’s been ready for weeks now. Bed built, drawers empty, space made. Aaron keeps telling himself it’s practical, getting ahead of things, but every time he looks at it, it feels less like preparation and more like something to lose. Like it's going to be 2020 all over again, and Aaron will lose his son without anything he can do about it. He tries not to look at it for too long.
Convincing Angela again after suddenly disappearing on her last time wasn't the easiest task. It had taken a lot of phone calls, arguments and pleadings.
Robert seemed like he couldn't believe it when she finally caved, talking like he's trying to convince both Aaron and himself that it's real. “We’ve got a place. We’re sorted. There’s nothing left to mess it up.”
“You sure about that?” Aaron had asked, tried to make it sound like a joke but it fell flat.
Because that’s the thing- with them, there’s always something.
But now they're here, standing right outside her place about to see Seb, about to see their boy again.
“You think he'll remember us?” Robert asks, his voice slightly off, and he’s not looking at Aaron, not properly. His eyes keep drifting back to the door, then away again, like he can’t quite bring himself to focus on it for too long.
Aaron knows that look. He’s seen it before, right before things go wrong, right before Robert bolts or bluffs or breaks. But he's not about to do any of those things right now.
Aaron wants to reassure him, something he's been doing more often than not since their new post prison relationship. It's always been the other way around, back in the day, but this version of Robert is one who apologizes for every single thing, one who retreats into his own mind whenever someone looks at him for too long.
And Aaron is slowly getting used to his new role in the relationship, though he hopes Robert will soon return to being his prick self. Not for his own sake, but for Robert's.
The thing is, Aaron isn't sure he can give Robert the answer he's so clearly hoping for. Seb has been so young the last time he saw Aaron, even younger the last time he saw Robert, and there's no guarantee he'll remember either of them, no guarantee he'll remember anything from that time period.
No guarantee he'll remember Liv.
They don't talk about her. She's one of the forbidden subjects, cause they've got lots of those now.
They don't talk about Kev or John, about Robert marrying someone else and Aaron believing a man he hardly knew for a year over Robert.
They don't talk about prison and divorce papers and the fight they'll uninventively have one day.
They don't talk about Liv, the girl they both loved once, Aaron's sister by blood and Robert's in anything but. She's a reminder of all the time they lost, and how they can never get it back, can never turn back the clock.
She's always the thing that hurts Aaron the most to think of, and even more so when it comes to Seb.
Aaron wants Seb to remember him and Robert, because the three of them had some really good times, because Aaron and Robert had given their all raising and loving Seb, because the moments the three of them shared are memories worth having.
But even if Seb doesn't remember those great years of wonderful moments, he has the time to make new memories with his dads.
He doesn't have that with Liv. He'll never be able to make new memories of her, never get to know her in the way he’ll get to know them, never grow into something with her the way he still can with them.
If Seb doesn't remember her now, then he never will. He'll never have a single memory of her. Not her voice, not the way she’d wind people up just for the sake of it, not how fiercely she loved the people she chose.
All he'll have are stories, things other people tell him, like she’s some character instead of a person who was real and loud and there.
Just whatever Aaron and Robert can piece together for him. And how do you explain someone like Liv in pieces?
So Aaron hopes Seb remembers, doesn't think he does.
“Maybe,” is what he lends on.
Robert nods, still not looking like he's entirely here. “Yeah. Maybe.”
Robert’s hand, the one not tightly clutching a gift that he spent longer than probably necessary choosing, is shoved deep in his pocket, shoulders tight, like he’s bracing for something. Like this is just another thing waiting to go wrong.
It does something to Aaron’s chest, that.
“Hey,” he says, quieter.
Robert doesn’t look up at him. “What?”
Aaron shrugs, even though Robert can’t see it. “We’re here, aren’t we?”
That gets Robert's attention, and his expression flickers . Doubt, hope, all tangled up.
“Yeah,” he says.
Aaron nods toward the door. “So… we’ll deal with whatever comes after. Like we always do.”
It's what they do, he thinks. Face accidental murders and psychos husband and whatever life throws in their direction, together.
Robert studies him for a moment before nodding.
“We said we’re doing this, yeah?”
Robert nods, quick, like he’s afraid the moment will slip if he waits too long. “Together,” he says.
Aaron doesn't exactly smile, but the corner of his mouth lifts up. “Yeah. Together.”
And he watches as Robert finally lifts his hand and knocks.
Angela doesn't smile when she opens the door, her lips pressed into a thin line, her arms crossed.
Her eyes go straight to Robert, and she slowly takes him in from head to toe, not even trying to hide it.
The suit definitely doesn’t help.
If anything, it makes it worse. Makes it look like he’s turned up to negotiate a deal, not see his son.
Because Robert’s dressed up, gone all the way back to the Robert of old with a tailored suit, dark and fitted.
Since getting out of prison, Robert’s been sticking to simpler stuff. Jeans, jumpers, the odd plain shirt. Nothing flashy, nothing that draws attention. Like he’s been trying to make himself smaller, trying to make himself less.
Aaron almost snorts at the fact this is the moment Robert decides to drag that version of himself back out. The Robert Sugden who used to stride into boardrooms like he owned them, who could sweet-talk anyone into anything, who never let a crack show in the armor. That Robert didn’t know how to lose.
It’s easier, maybe. Hiding behind something familiar. Looking like the man who used to have everything sorted, even if neither of them really believe that anymore.
He knows Robert probably wants to act like no time has passed, like there isn't six years of distance between them, like Seb didn't spend the last half a decade without a dad.
Aaron shifts his weight slightly, resisting the urge to say something to cut through the tension.
“Come in then. He’s in the living room.” Angela steps aside, her words clipped.
Aaron follows Robert into the house, taking it all in in a slow sweep.
Shoes lined up by the door, a low sound coming from the telly somewhere ahead.
Aaron counts the family photos lining the wall; Seb at the beach, gap-toothed, Seb on a bike, helmet askew, Seb blowing out candles on a cake. Each one from a moment Aaron and Robert weren't there for.
Seb sits cross legged on the sofa in front of the telly, his back to them, absorbed in some cartoon with garish colors that flash across the screen.
Seb’s hair is a bright orange just like Aaron remembers it, neatly combed in a way Aaron never seen on an eight years old before. The freckles are new, or maybe just more pronounced now, scattered across his nose and cheeks. The square glasses perched on his face make him look older, like someone had taken the scrappy toddler Aaron knew and pressed him into the shape of a miniature academic.
And Aaron is about to cry because that's his son.
Aaron has no legal right to him and they share no DNA, but that's his son.
Seb doesn’t turn around when they enter, too engrossed in his shoe. Angela clears her throat. “Sebastian. Look up.”
Seb pauses his show, and turns, no recognition in his eyes when he spots them.
Aaron’s chest tightens.
Seb’s gaze is stuck on Robert, his real dad, and it shouldn't hurt that he's not sparing Aaron more than a glance when Robert's the one who's got the blood claim, but it does.
“Are you my dad?” Seb asks, blunt as anything, his little fingers twisting the hem of his jumper.
“Yeah,” Robert says, voice shaking and full of disbelief. “Yeah, I am.”
Seb nods once, like that lines up with what he’s been told, then glances down to the gift in Robert's hand.
Robert clearly notices the eye movement too because he's soon scrambling, handing out the gift with shaky hands. “Got you something.”
Seb takes the gift with both hands, turning it over carefully, before tearing at the wrapping paper.
It's a dinosaur themed lunchbox, the exact same velociraptor design Aaron remembers Robert choosing weeks ago, debating between stegosauruses ("too passive") and T-Rexes ("overdone").
Seb stares at it, not saying a thing, and Aaron can feel Robert panicking next to him.
“I don't know if you use lunchboxes, but in case you do and don't have one… and you used to like dinosaurs when you were younger, I don't know if you still do-”
Robert's babbling would be adorable, in a scenario where Aaron isn't so worried about his fiancé working himself up to a point of hyperventilating.
Aaron wants to reach out, bundle Robert up, reassure him, but his hand hovers awkwardly halfway between them. They hadn’t discussed this part, how Aaron would be reintroduced, what title he’d hold in Seb’s life now. Not like he can just slip back into Daddy Aaron like no time has passed, because as much as they both would like to pretend it hasn't, it has.
Instead of pulling Robert close like he wants to, he settles for pressing a firm hand against his shoulder. He can feel Robert's muscles relaxing under his touch, and relaxes himself at the soft wobbly smile Robert gives him, a confirmation he didn't step out of line.
“I still like dinosaurs.” Seb says quietly, and Aaron can't be one hundred percent sure whether he's saying that because he actually still likes dinosaurs or because he wants to appease the dad he no doubt missed, but the awe with which he's looking at the box makes Aaron think it's the former.
All the air seems to leave Robert at once as he breathes out in relief. “Good, that's- that's good.”
Seb looks up, his gaze landing on Aaron. “Who're you?”
Next to Aaron, Robert flinches slightly, like he wasn’t ready for that. Aaron's been preparing himself for this possibility, but it still hurts.
“I’m Aaron,” he says, doing his best to keep his voice steady. “I’m… I'm a friend of your dad’s.”
The word friend tastes wrong in Aaron’s mouth, a placeholder for things things like partner, fiancé. For Aaron, the friend label doesn’t fit. Not for what he is to Robert, not for what he’s been in Seb’s life, not for what he hopes to be again.
But Seb’s staring at him like he’s a stranger, because he is.
I’m your dad too, he wants to say, but doesn’t. Thlse words don’t belong to him right now, not in this moment, not when Seb’s gaze is still so uncertain, so distant.
Robert doesn’t say anything, but Aaron feels him shift next to him. He can feel the way Robert’s shoulder straightens slightly, a small flinch in his posture as he processes the word friend. Maybe it's because Robert’s aware of the emotional minefield they’re standing in, or maybe because that word feels like a quiet rejection, a reminder of how much time has passed, how much has changed. Robert’s eyes flicker to Aaron, just a momentary glance, a silent understanding passing between them.
"Right," Robert says softly, his voice a little too tight. “We’re all friends here, yeah?” But it’s clear that friend doesn’t feel right to Robert either.
Seb is still studying them both, eyes wide, a little unsure of what to do with the gift now resting in his lap. The way his eyes dart between them, uncertain, makes Aaron’s heart ache. Seb doesn’t have the context, doesn’t understand the complexities of the years between them. All he sees in Aaron is a stranger, the friend of his dad’s. It’s not enough, not for Aaron. He wants to be something more, he wants Seb to know him as more.
But instead of pushing, Aaron just smiles gently, trying to hide the way his chest tightens at the idea of a future that isn’t quite what he wanted, not yet.
Seb tilts his head slightly, his glasses slipping down his nose. "Aaron," he repeats, testing the name like it's something unfamiliar. Which, Aaron supposes, it is. “And you came with him?”
“Yeah,” Aaron says. “We came together.”
“Do you… live with him?”
Aaron swallows, nodding. “Yeah,” He forces a little smile. “We're a team, me and your dad.”
Seb turns his gaze back to the lunchbox. “Do you like dinosaurs too?”
Next to Aaron, Robert is grinning. Aaron has to bite back his own smile. “I think they're pretty amazing,” he says. “Some of the scariest, coolest creatures ever.“
Seb nods, satisfied, then scoots over on the sofa to make room. “You can sit here if you want,” he says to Robert, patting the cushion. Robert inhales, like he’s been waiting for permission to breathe, and moves forward stiffly, as if afraid the offer might vanish if he moves too fast. He sits gingerly, leaving a careful space between himself and Seb. Aaron watches Robert’s hands twitch, like he wants to reach out but doesn’t dare.
“Seb, mate… it's really good to see you again. I missed you. We both really missed you.”
Seb stares at him for a long moment. “I missed you too.”
Aaron's chest swells in a way he didn't expect, and he presses a hand lightly against Robert's back, a quiet reassurance that they're both here, that they're both steady.
“You… you said you both missed me.” Seb says to Robert, then looks at Aaron again, something calculating in his eyes. “Does that mean you knew me too? When I was younger?”
Aaron's heart stutters in his chest.
“Yeah,” his voice cracks. “I knew you. Really well, actually.”
Seb looks like there are still things he wants to ask Aaron, still things he wants to know, but Angela clears her throat. “Is there anything you want to ask your father, Sebastian?”
Seb's fingers tap against the dinosaur lunchbox in his lap, his brow furrowing slightly as he considers Robert. "What do you do? For work, I mean.”
Robert's eyes light up. “I work at a farm.”
Seb blinks, his nose scrunching up. "A farm?" He glances at Robert's suit sleeves that definitely don't belong anywhere near animal feed. "You don't look like you work at a farm."
Robert lets out a startled laugh, the sound loosening something in Aaron’s chest. “Yeah, well. The suit’s for special occasions,” Robert says, tugging at his cuff self consciously. “Most days I’m in wellies up to my knees in cow sh- uh, muck.” He catches himself just in time, shooting Angela a wary glance.
Seb’s laughter bubbles up unexpectedly, and whatever Aaron felt at Robert's laughter is nothing compared to this. It’s been years since he’s heard this sound.
Robert’s shoulders relax slightly, like he’s just been handed a lifeline. “You think that’s funny, do you?” He teases, nudging Seb’s knee with his own. “Wait till you see me in my overalls. Proper farmer, me.”
Seb giggles again, the sound so light that Aaron has to press his tongue to the roof of his mouth to keep his expression steady. Robert’s grinning now, properly grinning, the way he used to before prison carved lines into his face that never quite faded. “So I'll get to come visit you in the farm?" Seb sounds hopeful.
Robert's eyes widen, but he's quick to smooth his expression. “Yeah! If- if that's something you'd like." His voice is too light, like he's trying not to sound too eager.
Seb’s face lights up, his freckled nose scrunching in a way that’s achingly familiar, so much like Robert’s old expressions that Aaron has to look away for a second. “Yeah!”
Seb’s enthusiasm is infectious, and Aaron watches as Robert’s shoulders lift slightly, the tension easing out of him slowly.
Seb’s gaze slides past Robert’s shoulder, landing on Aaron again with curiosity. “Do you work at the farm too?”
"Not exactly," he says, shoving his hands into his pockets. "I work at a scrap yard. But I also help your dad run the place.”
The scrap yard clearly isn't as interesting because Seb immediately turns back to Robert, and Aaron watches with awe and listens as Seb keeps asking more questions about the farm and what's working there like and where Robert lives, and Robert answers with just as much enthusiasm, happier than Aaron's seen him since he came back.
Aaron doesn't know how long it is before Angela clears her throat. "I think it's time for you to leave?"
Robert’s hands freeze mid-gesture, fingers curling into his palms as Angela’s words land. Aaron watches the way Robert’s throat works, the way he swallows like he’s forcing down an argument, before nodding stiffly. “Right,” he says. “Yeah, of course.”
Seb's expression crumples. "Already?" He looks like the spitting image of his father, pouting like this. Robert will deny he ever pouts, but he does, often. "But we just started talking.”
“Sebastian,” Angela's tone leaves no room for argument. “You have homework to do, and your dad and Aaron, they have… well I'm sure they have stuff to do too.”
Seb looks up at Robert with wide, uncertain eyes. "Will I see you again?”
“Yeah,” Robert says quickly. “Yeah, of course you will.”
He glances at Angela then, like he’s just remembered the decision is actually in her hands. There’s a beat of silence where Aaron can practically see the gears turning in Robert’s head, the careful calculation of how much to push, how much to ask.
“Come on,” she says, her voice quieter, softer than it was earlier. “We’ll have a word.”
She turns, and Robert hesitates just a second before following her into the kitchen.
And then it’s just him and Seb. The moment feels oddly suspended in time.
Seb’s still perched on the sofa, legs swinging slightly, his fingers tracing the ridges of his new lunchbox.
“So,” Aaron tries, clearing his throat. “You like dinosaurs, then?”
Seb nods. “Yeah.”
“Did you get one for your birthday?” Aaron tries, then cringes at himself.
Seb shakes his head. “No. I got a new bike. And a… robot thing. Like one that moves by itself.”
Aaron smiles a little, despite the lump in his throat. “Sounds pretty cool.”
“Yeah,” Seb agrees. “But it broke already.”
Aaron chuckles. “Well, that’s a robot for you. They never last long.”
Seb traces the velociraptor’s outline on the lunchbox with his fingers, his brow furrowing in concentration. “Did you know,” he says suddenly, not looking up, “that some dinosaurs had feathers?”
Aaron blinks. “Really?”
Seb nods. “Like chickens. But bigger.” He mimes wings with his arms, nearly smacking Robert’s abandoned seat cushion.
Aaron grins. “Sounds terrifying.”
Seb’s answering smile is fleeting, but genuine, before then he goes quiet again, turning the lunchbox over in his hands, studying it with more intensity than a simple toy should warrant. “Do you know Ross?”
Aaron blinks, caught off guard by the sudden change of topic. “Yeah, I know Ross.”
Seb nods. “He was my mum's boyfriend. But then my mum…” his voice trails off, fingers tightening around the lunchbox. “Ross was nice. He used to take me to the park. And I haven't seen him since. One moment they were both there, and then they were both gone. But he chose to leave.”
Aaron’s breath catches in his throat. God, Seb is so young but he's been through more loss than some people experience in a lifetime.
“You and dad are like mum and Ross were, right?” Seb asks. “Will you leave too? If something happens with dad again.”
Aaron wants to punch Ross Barton in his stupid fucking face, but that's something he wants to do lots of the time regardless of Seb and it's probably unnecessary and unhelpful.
He takes a deep breath. “Seb,” he starts carefully. “Your dad isn't going anywhere-”
“But he did!” Seb's voice cracks. “He left, and no one tells me why, and I don't even remember him, I just know he was never there! Everyone always said he just had to leave, but it's not like with mum when she- he's here! He's alive, and he's here, and he left me!”
Aaron’s chest tightens at the raw pain in Seb’s voice. He crouches in front of the sofa. “Seb, listen to me. Your dad didn’t leave because he wanted to. Sometimes… sometimes grown ups make stupid choices, and they have to live with the consequences. But if he had a choice, he would have chosen to stay with ya. He… he went somewhere else, for a few years. I didn't see him either. But he's back now, and he's not going anywhere. You're not going to lose him again, neither of us will. Do you understand?”
Seb’s lower lip trembles. “But what if he does?”
“He won't.”
“But if he does,” Seb presses. “Will you leave too?”
He could have shot Aaron dead, and it would have hurt less.
“No.” He says firmly. “No, I won't. Even if something happens- which it won’t- I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me, mate."
“But you left last time,” Seb points out and Aaron aches. “You said you knew me before, too, but I don't remember you either. You weren't here.”
“That wasn't by choice, Seb. Your mum thought… it doesn't matter. Just know I would have kept seeing you if it was up to me. I wanted to keep seeing you. Promise.”
Seb looks at him for a long moment, his eyes searching Aaron’s face, probably trying to gauge if the promise is real, if it’s safe to believe.
“You promise?” Seb asks, his voice small but hopeful.
Aaron can’t bring himself to look away. “Yeah. I promise.”
Seb flings himself at Aaron so suddenly that Aaron nearly loses his balance, his arms wrapping tightly around Aaron's neck. Aaron doesn't hesitate before hugging him back. His chest aches with the familiarity of it.
“Did you really want to stay with me all those years ago?” Seb asks, voice muffled against Aaron’s shoulder.
Aaron exhales shakily, his hands tightening around Seb’s small frame. “More than anything.” And it’s the truest thing he’s ever said. He pulls away slightly. “I want to show you something.”
Seb watches patientally and curiously as Aaron reaches into his jacket pocket, pulling out his wallet.
Aaron flips open the wallet, pulls out a creased photo. Seb at two years old, grinning with ice cream smeared across his chin, Liv laughing, holding him in her arms, and Robert and Aaron on either side, arms draped over her shoulders. The edges are frayed from years of being taken out, folded back, pressed flat again. Years of Aaron mourning his family, crying where no one could see.
“You were with me the whole time, Seb.” He realizes with horror that his voice is shaking and tears are welling up, and he has to blink hard to keep them at bay. “I never stopped thinking of ya, not even once.”
Seb peers at the picture, fingers hovering like he’s afraid to touch. “Who's that?”
Aaron's throat tightens as he follows Seb's small finger pointing at Liv's grinning face. He doesn't remember her, doesn't have single memory of her, and now he never will. "That's..." The words stick in his throat. "That's Liv. My sister.”
Seb's fingers trace Liv's face in the photo. “Does she live with you too?”
Aaron swallows hard, the photo trembling slightly in his grip. “No, she… she doesn’t.” He doesn’t say more, doesn’t know how to explain death to a child who’s already lost too much.
Seb frowns. “Where is she?”
Aaron can hear Robert’s muffled voice from the kitchen, Angela’s replies, but none of it matters in this moment. Just Seb’s wide, waiting eyes, the photo trembling between them.
“She's gone, mate." He manages finally, voice rough. "Like your mum.”
“Oh.” Seb's fingers curl away from the photo like he’s been burned. Aaron watches the realization settle- another person Seb won’t get to know, another story cut short. “Was she nice?”
Aaron laughs, surprised. “Not always, no.” He admits. “But she was brilliant. Stubborn as hell, always giving me grief-" his voice cracks. "She loved you rotten.”
Seb touches the edge of the photo again, his fingers brushing against Liv’s frozen grin. "Do you think she'd like me now?”
“Yeah,” Aaron replies hoarsely. “She’d love you now.”
Seb’s thumb traces Liv’s smiling face one last time before he carefully hands the photo back to Aaron. “I don't remember her.” He says quietly. “I wish I remembered her.”
“I'll tell you everything about her,” Aaron promises.
Robert steps back into the living room just as Aaron slides the photo back into his wallet.
“Right, I talked to Angela, and she says we can come back next weekend. And have a few more hours this time. If- if that’s okay with you, Seb, of course.” The question is tentative, Robert still learning how to fit into the shape of a father again.
Seb’s face brightens like someone flicked a switch inside him, eyes wide, lips parting in surprise and breaking into a grin that threatens to split his freckled cheeks. “Really?” He turns to Aaron. "And you'll come too?”
Aaron glances up at Robert and finds his fiancé’s expression full of hope. “Yeah,” Aaron says, nudging Seb’s foot with his own. “Just try and stop me.”