Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It’s not that time actually slows down when faced with impending death.  It’s simply that the brain makes more memories of that time, grasping and saving what it perceives as its last moments of life.

That is why, in the seconds immediately following the initial, monumental crack of the explosion, Robert has the time to wonder what on earth that sound could have been.  There is time to be more confused than afraid.  To wonder why the windows are rattling in their frames and why he smells smoke.  He takes the time to hear the splintering groan of hundred-year-old support beams breaking apart.  To look upwards at the ceiling as it comes crashing down upon him.

And he has the time, as his consciousness fades for the first time, to imprint to his memory the wish that he could have seen Aaron smile at him just one more time.

*

Aaron stands stock still in the yard of the garage for several long seconds, socket wrench loose in this hand and heart pounding, as he tries to make sense of that monstrous sound.

“What the bloody hell?” Cain asks, coming up behind him.

Aaron simply shakes his head, his senses still keenly focused.  It’s only when he hears the screams and the first waft of acrid smoke meets his nose that he looks back at his uncle, wearing a matching determined look, and runs to the street.

It is easy enough to follow the chaos.

The pub is in ruins.  Its roof is partially collapsed in on itself, some of the grey stone facade having crumbled inwards.  All the windows on the front of the building have exploded with smoke and dust billowing out of the gaping holes left behind.

Aaron doesn’t even think. He just presses through the gathering crowd, hurrying towards the devastated building.

Someone grabs his arm as they brush past each other.  It’s Eric, his face streaked with soot.  “Where do you think you’re going?”

“To help!”  Aaron says, as if it is the most obvious thing in the world.  He watches as Cain, undeterred by a meddling neighbor, disappears inside the front door.

“Wait for the first responders, lad.”

“No way.  My mum’s in there,” Aaron snaps, ripping his arm away.

Stepping over the rubble that once was the front entry to the pub, Aaron stumbles into David.  There is a line of blood trailing down his cheek from a cut over his eye and he’s supporting a limping Vic, who clutches her wrist to her chest at an unnatural angle.  

“There’s more people inside,” David says.  His breath is ragged but he otherwise seems alright.

“Have you seen my mum?”  Aaron asks.  David shakes his head.  Victoria stares past him as if he isn’t even there, eyes stunned and blank.  “Vic?”  He shouts, and her eyes regain their focus.  “Have you seen Chas?”  Aaron repeats again slowly.

“I- I don’t know,”  She finally manages.  

Aaron squeezes her shoulder gently, sharing a look with David that begs him to take care of her.  

He unzips his coveralls, tying the sleeves around his waist, and tucks his nose and mouth under the collar of his tee-shirt

He had expected more panic.  Instead there is an unnatural quiet of the aftershock.  There is stillness in the destruction, dust settling, ash wafting.  

“Mum?”  He calls out, as his eyes try to adjust to the eerie, murky light.  “Chas!”  he yells again, a hysterical edge creeping into his voice.  Any number of horrific scenarios play out in his mind as he makes his way further inside, stepping carefully over felled sheet rock and destroyed furniture.  

The long bar still stands, though it is badly damaged.  Aaron stumbles towards it, catching himself on the edge.  Looking over the top, he can just see the top of his uncle’s head, crouched on the floor holding the hand of an impossibly still Diane.  Her body is contorted, laid between broken bits of pint glasses and splintered wood.   A giant blood stain spreads from her ribs to her waist.   

“Is she…?”  Aaron gasps.  Cain looks up at him, eyes dire, mouth set in a pained line.  It takes him a moment before he nods.

Aaron presses the back of his hand to his mouth. Disbelief and horror and the grim severity of what is actually happening jumbling up his thoughts.

Outside, the sound of far off police cars, fire engines and ambulances begin to wail and swell.  

“You stay with her.  I’ll keep looking.”

*

When Robert wakes again it is to immeasurable pain.  The kind so all-consuming it is impossible to tell where in his body the pain stems from as every inch of him, inside and out feels like the raw end of a nerve exposed to a flame.

He is tries to move.  But he can’t.  He’s trapped, buried in close darkness, the debris heavy on his chest.

There are voices nearby, but not near enough to notice him. He reaches with his hand, his fingers, hoping any microscopic move might be enough to catch someone’s eye.  He tries desperately to force a sound out of his lungs.

But nothing comes.  There is only darkness as his mind slips away once more.

*

 Just as Aaron passes through the kitchen into the hall beyond, he sees Chas emerge from the sitting room.  

“Aaron, love!”

The door is off it’s hinges, and she must brace herself against the door jam, taking a wide step over the charred door.  She stumbles, her ever impractical high-heeled boots teetering on uneven ground.

Aaron catches her, pulling her into a fierce hug.  “Are you alright?”  He holds her out at arm's length, looking her over.  There is blood over her eyebrow and she’s trembling like a leaf.

“What’s happening?”

“I dunno,” Aaron says.  “But you need to get out of here.”  

“Not without you!”

An ominous groaning sound forms in the ceiling somewhere over their head.  Aaron spins around, watching as a portion of the sitting room ceiling gives way.  With a burst of electrical wires snapping, followed by the crack of a building meant to withstand the test of time, insulation and dust plummet to the floor.  

And that is when something catches Aaron’s eye.  Something that looks far too perfect in this scene of utter ruin.  Something that has no business being in his home at all.  

Aaron spins Chas around, pointing her in the right direction.   “Get out of here,” he orders.  

“No, Aaron!  It’s not safe in here.”

“I need to look for something.”

“What could you possibly…”

“Just go!”  He yells, giving her a shove to further emphasize his point.

With her gone, Aaron turns back around.  A sudden clarity fills his mind as he focuses his complete attention on the conspicuous object.  

Robert’s watch - that showy expensive thing Chrisse had given him for his birthday - still encircling the wrist of the man who wore it, the knuckles bloodied, fingers limp, sticking out from under a massive pile of wreckage.

*

Aaron drops to his knees and immediately begins pushing debris away from where he assumes Robert must be.

“Robert,” Aaron says.  It sounds like a reprimand one might give to a misbehaving dog.  How dare he be here?  How dare he be caught up in this mayhem too?

There is a heavy wooden beam fallen across him, resting dangerously near his head.  Aaron lifts it away, the wood feeling light in his adrenaline-strong arms.

“Come on, Robert,” he says but this time it is a plea.

Only once Robert is out from under all the devastation, can Aaron truly process what has happened.  Robert is motionless.  His lips and cheeks are colorless, covered in a fine layer of dust.  One of his legs is tucked awkwardly beneath the other and there is a massive gash across his head, leaving his blond hair caked with blood.

Aaron, sits back on his heels and passes his hand over his face.  He thinks of Diane’s lifeless body and can’t help but make a similar comparison to how Robert looks.

“What are you even doing back here, eh, mate?” He whispers, breath shuddering and hands hovering over his body.  He’s afraid to touch Robert incase it causes more injury.  Afraid he’ll reach out and touch to find him lifeless and cold.

He can hear the fire crew and paramedics shouting orders to each other outside.  Little good they will do for Diane, Aaron thinks and he refuses to let Robert be counted alongside her, a casualty to tragedy.

More gently than he has perhaps ever done anything in his life, Aaron leans over Robert’s body and lowers his head to his chest.  He’s prepared to hear nothing but a hollow emptiness.  

And for a moment, he does.

A sob bubbles up out of his mouth as he clutches at the collar of Robert’s shirt.

But then, painfully slow, almost as if it’s trying to remember how, Aaron hears a heartbeat.  He listens again, waiting several interminable seconds, before hearing another thud bump up against his chest cavity.  

He’s still alive.

Acting on pure instinct, Aaron slips his arms underneath Robert’s limp body.  With a determined groan, he stands, cradling the larger man in his arms.  

As quickly as he is able, he makes for the closest exit near the foot of the stairs.  He kicks down the door, its wood brittle and cracked from the concussion of the blast.  Emerging outside, he finds himself half a block away from all of the commotion and all of the help.  The fire crew and paramedics rush in the front door, while nearly all the village seems gathered about the other entrance.

“Help me, please!”  Aaron screams, still holding Robert’s body in his arms.  “Anyone!  Help!”  

It’s Chas who hears his calls for help, her mother’s ears able to pick his voice out from the crowd.  She gets the attention of two medics who rush down the street towards him.  

As he watches them run down the street, relief takes the place of panic.  He lays Robert’s body on the ground, settling his head down last like you would a sleeping baby.  “Hang in there, Robert,” He whispers, fingertips brushing over Robert’s jaw as he does.  “For me.”

*

He cannot bring himself to open his eyes but he can sense brightness beyond his eyelids.  The weight is gone from his chest.  His body is numb from the pain.

There is someone beside him.  Someone whispering in his ear.  Touching him gently.  

He knows that voice.  He knows hope.  

He knows Aaron.

Chapter Text

“How am I here, again, Paddy?”

Aaron drops his forearms his knees, hands clasped, head hanging low. “How am I sat here in this bloody waiting room while someone I…”

He freezes and Paddy gives him a sidelong look.

“Someone I know,” Aaron says, opting for the safest word. “Is fighting for his life just down the hall and I don’t know a bloody thing about what is happening?”

Paddy rubs his back. “I know, mate, just… just try to relax. What you did, it was quite heroic, really.”

“I would have done it for anyone.”

Aaron slumps back in his seat, kicking his feet out and crossing them at the ankles. He rests his head on the back of the hard plastic chair, staring up at the ceiling tiles so he doesn’t have to see the look on Paddy’s face. The one where he’s thinking that what Aaron is saying may not be entirely true.

Both Aaron and Paddy’s heads pop up as the door on the opposite side of the room opens.

“Only me,” Chas says, balancing three cups of tea in her one good hand. She’d already been treated and released for her injuries. A fractured clavicle has left her right arm in a sling. She’d needed stitches for some minor lacerations on her brow. She’d had smoke inhalation and a broken rib, though Aaron doesn’t wonder if he’d given her that last injury himself when he’d hugged her after finding her.

“Anything?” She asks.

“Nothing.” Paddy says, taking the tea and blowing some of the steam away.

“Ta,” Aaron says softly, taking the remaining cup from his mum.

“So,” Chas begins, eyes watching her tea as she stirs in the sugar, voice dangerously nonchalant. “When were you going to tell us that you and Robert were back on?”

“What?” Aaron gapes. “We’re not!”

“You do seem pretty cut up about it,” Paddy says.

“And why wouldn’t I be? The whole village has gone tits up.”

Paddy looks contrite while Chas is unrelenting in her disbelief. “You know how I used to feel about him. You can’t just switch feelings those kind of feelings off, can you? Especially not when something like this happens.”

“Alright, I was just checking,” Chas says, lifting a pacifying hand. “So you haven’t seen him recently?”

“Mum,” Aaron groans with an eye roll.

“I’m only asking because if you haven’t been seeing him, then what was he doing in our flat today?”

“I dunno, coming to see his stepmum?” Aaron snaps, but at the mention of Diane, everyone falls silent.

For a moment, all they hear is the low frequency hum of the vending machine and the unintelligible murmurs of the other people in the room.

“We’ve barely talked since I ended things,” Aaron relents. He looks at Chas and Paddy, both of whom are watching him intently. “But I did see him the other day. He came to the scrapyard to tell me…”

“Tell you what?” Paddy encourages.

“To tell me that Lachlan had found out about the affair. About us.”

Robert had shown up, uneasy and sheepish, knocked down from pompous air he’d been sporting since he’d moved back in with his wife. The sudden appearance of his former lover had done nothing to help Aaron’s already dreary mood. But then Aaron had seen the dark circles on his eyes, the way the skin pulled might tightly on his cheek bones. Robert had looked miserable and Aaron’s compassion had kicked in. Evidently, he’s incapable of leaving Robert well alone when he’s being pathetic.

“There was a picture. On his laptop. Of us in bed..”

“Oh that’s just brilliant, Aaron!” Chas snaps, then she ducks her head and speaks in a whisper. “Go ahead and leave pornographic evidence of this secret affair laying around!”

“Will you get your head out the gutter,” Aaron says, giving her an annoyed look. “We were just goofing around one morning during that week I stayed up at Home Farm, taking pictures together, playing around with the different filters on the camera. There was nothing x-rated.”

Out of nowhere, Aaron’s body warms. The comfort of Robert’s blankets cocooning them, their bodies soft and easy together, the laughter and affection ever present.

“He told me he’d delete them all, anyway. But I guess, he kept one.” Aaron only realizes as he says it just how touched he is that Robert had kept that picture, willing to take the risk of discovery in order to hold onto one of their happiest times together. “But he hid it in some random folder with a weird name that no one would suspect. But that little creep was borrowing his computer and managed to find it anyway.”

“And what, he was lording it over Robert?” Paddy asks.

“No, that was the weirdest part,” Aaron says. “Said Lachlan was properly angry, saying that Robert had to promise he and I were through, and that he’d do anything to keep the family together.” Aaron remembers the way Robert’s jaw had tensed, his eyes just this side of wild as he’d begged Aaron to steer clear of all the Whites for the time being, himself included.

But Robert’s charge is suddenly impossible to keep as at that moment the door to the waiting room swings opens again and a weeping Chrissie White, being held up by her father, walks through.

*

Aaron watches as Lawrence guides her to a chair. She sits, clutching at her purse. Her hair is tossed into a messy twist on top of her head, her eyes cried raw. She looks like a small child, sitting there with her father’s arm around her shoulders, speaking to her in soft, soothing tones. Aaron wants to hate her. He wants to glare at her with every bit of vitriol deserved to Robert’s wife. But he can’t. She’s grieving for Robert too, and with passport to do it more publicly than Aaron will ever have.

It’s Lawrence who sees the three of them sitting again the near wall first. He eyes them thoughtfully, chest expanding with a long inhale.

“I hear we have you to thank for finding Robert,” He says looking at Aaron. Chrissie keeps her head down, using a tissue to wipe at her nose. Aaron nods. “Then, thank you.”

Finally Chrissie looks up too, locking onto Aaron with a steely gaze and says quickly, “Yes, thank you.” Her lips are pursed tight, voice tinny, so as to let Aaron know just how much it pains her to say it. There is no love lost between them now that she knows about his involvement in the raid at Home Farm.

“Have you gotten any news yet? About his condition?” Paddy asks.

“No,” Chrissie says, sniffing. “They wouldn’t tell me anything when I got here.”

The air room is strained with secrets. Those Aaron, Paddy and Chas share about the affair. Those Aaron and Chrissie keep from Lawrence about the break in. When the doctor comes in, the quintet seems more relieved that someone new is there to break the tension than the fact he most likely comes bearing news.

“Mrs. Sugden?”

Chrissie stands, clutching her hands to her chest.

“It’s White, but yes, I’m Robert Sugden’s wife.”

“Mrs. White, my apologies. If you’ll come with me, I’d like to talk to you about your husband’s condition.” He gestures towards the door but Chrissie makes no move to follow. Aaron can taste blood in his mouth from biting on his lips, his breath coming shallow through his nose as he waits.

“His condition?” She says. “So...so he’s still alive?”

“Yes, he’s still alive.”

Chas grabs onto Aaron’s arm and he feels faint with relief. Paddy gives him a tight, reassuring smile.

“But his situation is still very serious. If you’ll come with me,” The doctor glances, to their side of the room, making it obvious that he doesn’t want to disclose too much in front of people who aren’t immediate family.

“I don’t care if they hear. He’s the one who found him anyway,” she says with a flick of her hand in Aaron’s direction, brushing him off as if all he’s ever been to Robert was his rescuer.

“Just please,” she says intently. “Please, please tell me. I can’t bare it a second longer. What’s happened to him?”

“Very well,” the doctor clasps his hands behind his back and clears his throat. Chrissie sits and Aaron leans forward in his chair, desperate to hear every word.

“In the course of the explosion Mr. Sugden suffered several serious injuries. A broken bone in his left leg and broken right clavicle. He suffered some very serious blunt trauma to his abdomen resulting in internal bleeding around his kidneys. We were able to perform emergency surgery to stop the bleeding.”

Aaron can hear Chrissie’s stuttered breathing from across the room as she nods imperceptibly at the doctor’s words. Aaron presses his fingers to his lips, swallowing down the painful lump in his throat.

“Our biggest concern however, it the potential brain damage.”

“What?” Her whole body convulses as if she might be sick.

Aaron’s head falls back against the wall with a satisfying thud and he breaths, “Not again.”

“He’s in a medically induced coma now. Over the next several hours we’ll gradually reduce the sedation to see if he pulls himself out of the coma. With injuries like this it is nearly impossible to tell the extent of the damage until the patient is awake.”

“So when will he wake up?”

“It could be tomorrow morning, it could be next week…” The doctor says, his face suddenly becoming very sober.

“It could be never,” Lawrence finishes the sentence, bleakly.

Chrissie’s eyes go blank, staring unseeing at the floor. “Can I see him?” A tear catches on the edge of her jaw before falling to the ground.

“Of course,” the doctor nods, ushering her out the door.

*

As soon as the door closes, Aaron is on his feet, fingers pressing roughly through his hair at the back of his skull. He paces frantically across the floor not knowing if he wants to punch the wall and scream or vomit and breakdown in tears. It’s all too agonizingly familiar.

“Aaron, sweetheart.” Chas comes up behind him, resting her hands on his shoulders. He stills, sinking into his mother’s touch.

He turns, not afraid to show Paddy and Chas just how upset he is by the news of Robert’s condition. When a tear slips down his cheek he doesn’t even bother to brush it away. “I can’t handle it, mum. I can’t.”

“You can,” She says, folding him into a hug. “You are.”

“I have to get out of here.”

Aaron pushes his way out of Chas’s embrace, grabbing for the hoodie he’d left on his chair.

“Don’t you want to see what happens?”

“No, I don’t.” Aaron snaps, cutting Paddy off. “He’s got his wife holding vigil at his bedside, doesn’t he? I just...can’t do all this again. Not after...”

Jackson. Surrounded by the two people who have always loved him the most, he doesn’t need to finish the sentence for them to understand.

He’s halfway out the door when Paddy asks, “Where will you go?”

“Adam’s. The B&B.” He throws his arms out sideways in desperation. “Anywhere but here.”

With one final anguished look, Aaron is out the door before either Chas or Paddy can say a word against it. Chas sighs, a sound that bares the weight of every moment she has ever spent worrying about her poor son’s tragic soul. She runs her fingers over the bandage by her temple; her arm aches as much as her heart.

“I know he says they’re through,” she lifts her eyes away from where she’d been staring at the waiting room door to look at Paddy. “But he’s still in love with him, isn’t he?”

Paddy simply looks down at her, sighing himself, and puts his arm delicately around her shoulder blades. “Come on. You’ll come stay at mine.”

*

People have left flowers in the charred entryway to the pub. Aaron looks down at them, toeing the green cellophane wrapped bouquets with the tip of his shoe. He steps back, following the line of the yellow police tape that still has the entrance to the pub blocked off, then over his shoulder to the white forensics van there to collect further evidence.

Just barely twenty-four hours have passed since the explosion but some people’s lives have returned to something that does a good job of mimicking normalcy. The coffee shop is open. The post has been delivered. The buses are running into town. It’s so unfair that for Aaron his life is still completely on hold, suspended in uncertainty.

“Thought I might find you here.” Chas’s voice is as chipper as it has any right to be. She’s stopped a small distance up the road as if she doesn’t want to get too close to the wreckage.

Aaron walks back to join her, his feet crunching along the gravel path.

“Where did you wind up yesterday?”

“Adam’s.”

Chas nods. “Get any rest?”

“Not really. Few hours maybe. Victoria was a mess, wandering around crying. Between Robert and Diane she was barely keeping it together. She’s been at hospital with Robert all day, sitting with him.”

“No change then?”

Aaron shakes his head.

Chas stares plainly at her son as he tries so hard to seem detached. But she knows him too well, knows how big that heart of his actually is and she knows just how much of that heart belongs to Robert Sugden, for good or not.

“You should go see him.”

“Why?” Aaron deflects in full on defensive mode. “We’re nothing anymore. There’s no reason for me to be there.”

Chas however cuts through his front, giving him a warm and understanding look, one that is so different from the usual one she wears when they talk about Robert. “I think we both know that’s not quite true, though. You still love him, Aaron. I can tell you do.”

“I don’t,” Aaron snaps but then under Chas’s insightful gaze, he gives up the ruse. “At least, I don’t want to.”

“It’s alright, sweetheart…”

Aaron snickers.  “That’s something, coming from you, isn’t it?”

“I told you, I know what it’s like, loving someone you shouldn’t. Not being able to help yourself.”

“And I told you, I wasn’t going to do the same.”

Aaron remembers the conversation, taken place in that shell of a sitting room, where Chas opened up about Carl and Aaron came to a final decision.

“But when I think about him in that bed, I…”

Aaron’s breath catches, unexpected tears sting his eyes.

“The go to the hospital,” Chas says, insistent. “Make sure he’s ok.”

Aaron kicks at the ground. “Will you come with me?”

Chas wraps her hand around his bicep, a lump forming in the back of her throat. To feel needed by Aaron Livsey is no small thing.

“Of course, love,” She says, tucking her good arm through his. She rests her head on his broad shoulder as they stand there, silent, in the shadow of their broken home.

*

The steady blip of the heart rate monitor is hypnotic. Chrissie has spent the better part of three days, hand clasped gently around her husband’s, head resting on the hospital bed near his hip. She’s anticipated every beep from that machine and its promise that her Robert is still alive.

During those days, when her eyes had fluttered, desperate to close and give her body some much needed rest, she’d resisted as long as she could, not willing to miss a beat. But eventually, always, that steady sound had lulled her to sleep.

She wakes this time to a nurse entering the room carrying a tray with several vials and syringes on it.

“We tried to wake you.” She begins administering the medicine to his IV drip bag. “Thought we might offer you a more comfortable place to sleep but you were out cold.”

Chrissie sits back in her chair, stretching and inhaling deeply through her nose. She takes a moment to look Robert up and down, listening for that comforting, consistent beep before responding.

“I’ve gotten quite fond of this chair, actually. Was thinking about taking it home with me when we leave.”

The nurse gives Chrissie a soft smile over her shoulder.

“Any change?” She asks, blinking the last of the her sleep away from her eyes.

“I’m sorry, no.”

“Well, no news is good news, isn’t it, sweetheart?” She stands, leaning over Robert’s bed to press a kiss to his forehead.

He looks infinitely better than he had on that first day. Take away the ventilator and the tubes and wires still left attached to him, it might even look like he’s just sleeping. A deep, dreamless sleep that no amount of urging can rouse him from.

It’s like some sort of nightmare, really. They’d had a row, one of hundreds that seemed to be cropping up between them since he’d moved back into Home Farm. He’d left, slamming the door behind him, making threats that she hadn’t believed because they were just words.

Next thing she knows, he’s lying in hospital, clinging to life.

A soft knock pulls her from her thoughts.

“Just me,” her dad says as he comes through the door, carrying two coffees with him. He also has a small over-night bag slung over his elbow with a change of clothes for Chrissie.

Lawrence presses a kiss to the top her head, then peers down at Robert. “He looks better. More color to his cheeks.”

“I think so too,” she says with a cautious grin. She settles back in her chair, curling her hands around the coffee cup. “Did you see Lachlan while you were home?”

“No,” Lawrence says, sitting in a chair on the opposite side of the bed. The nurse finishes her task and excuses herself. “He’s still cooped up in his room, music blasting. I tried to see if he wanted to come visit, but well…” He gestures to show his ineffectiveness.

“I know things have been difficult for him lately…”

“There’s an understatement,” Lawrence mutters into his coffee.

“But this whole business with the explosion is hitting him harder than even I would have expected. He’s an absolute mess, Dad, and I can’t even be there for him.”

Just then, that heart rate monitor that had become like rhythmic white noise, ever present in Chrissie’s subconscious, suddenly speeds up. Chrissie stands, watching the tiny peaks and valley’s fall back into slightly more uptempo but ever steady speed. She looks down at Robert to see a small crease forms between his brows, the smallest flicker of motion in his fingertips.

“Oh god, dad,” She breathes. “He’s waking up.”

*

He feels like he’s floating on a silent cloud. His body is painless, almost as if he’s hollow. It’s blissful and bright, wherever it is he’s found himself. He’d be happy to stay here for a long time.

But it’s lonely here and Robert is afraid of being alone.

Suddenly, there are sounds around him. Beeps and hisses. Indistinct voices both near and far. None of it makes any sense without being able to see.

He tells his brain to tell his eyes to open. For a millisecond he sees the world outside his own head, full of color and shape. He tries again, this time asking his throat to speak.

All that comes out is a garbled sound, his throat chokes around something hard and plastic. Something that should not be there.

He panics, eyes flaring wide, heart tripling in speed.

“Mr. Sugden.”

This is not his voice.

“Mr. Sugden, please don’t try to speak until we’ve taken the ventilator out.”

The what? He gags as whatever “it” is taken out. But it’s better once it’s gone. He can swallow easily. Breathe. Listen as the rapid beeping in his ears slows along with his heart rate.

The world around him spins and swirls as he tries to focus.

He remembers an enormous sound. He remembers pain.

Then like a sunbeam shining through a window into a dark room he remembers a name:

“Aaron.”

*

It’s a long walk down a series of labyrinthine corridors and a slow lift ride, one with stops on nearly every floor, before Aaron and Chas reach the critical care floor.

When they arrive, Chrissie and Lawrence are out in the hall, their faces pressed to the observation window to what must be Robert’s room.

There is a rush of activity, doctors and nurses running in and out. Alarms are shrieking on and off and a voice over the intercom announces, “Code 12, room 114.”

“What’s happening?” Aaron asks coming up behind them.

Chrissie beams at him. “He waking up.”

Aaron turns to Chas, limbs feeling loose and relaxed for the first time since the accident. “Told you it would be alright, didn’t I?” She whispers just before she presses a kiss to his cheek.

Aaron peeks through the window over Chrissie’s shoulder. He can’t really see anything through the throng of doctors and nurses.

Chrissie noticies and her expression sours. “I’m sorry, why are you both here exactly?”

“I just wanted to make sure he was alright. I did save him after all.”

“Well, you can see perfectly clearly that he is. So I think you should leave.”

“Oi!” Chas says. “You should be a site more grateful for what Aaron has done.”

Her grin turns sinister. “Yes, after all Aaron has done.”

Aaron feels her barb keenly.

“We are very grateful, aren’t we Chrissie?” Lawrence says, smoothly. He places his hands on the both her shoulders pacifying her. “You’ll forgive her, of course. She’s obviously undergone serious emotional trauma the past few days. I’m sure you understand.”

“Oh, I certainly do understand, alright,” Chas continues, heated and haughty. “I’ve only got one arm in a sling and a broken rib to show for it. I’ve only lost one of my closest friends, the woman I shared a business and a home with. Oh and speaking of a business and a home, I haven’t got either one of those anymore!”

“Mum, give it a rest,” Aaron begs. Chas backs down, muttering a soft apology. “Look, we’ll go. I’m just glad he’s gonna be alright.”

He’s relieved when his voice doesn’t break, but he can’t help the sting of tears at the corner of his eyes. Aaron turns to leave. “Come on.”

Lawrence watches Aaron as he retreats, recognizing something in him in that moment. The quiet distress. The emotion barely contained. The familiarity of feeling out of place and unwanted.

“Stay,” he calls down the corridor.

“Dad,” Chrissie says annoyed but he simply ignores her.

“You’re his business partner, after all. I’m sure he’ll be very glad to thank you for all you did for him.”

Aaron nods in thanks just as a nurse comes out into the hall.

“He’s ready to see you now.”

*
The world makes sense but it doesn’t. His body aches but it doesn’t. Everything moves in slow motion, his brain needing extra time to translate what comes in through his eyes or ears or out through his mouth.

But the doctors want to ask questions. The day’s date? June 23rd. Fine. Does he know where he is? Hospital. Yes, good. Does he remember what happened? Something exploded.

They all smile at him, quite encouraged. He would smile too if he could put two and two together to feel anything other than very, very tired.

“Mr. Sugden?”

That’s his name. He knows that much.

But that name doesn’t make nearly as much sense as the other name he knows. The simple name, full of hope and kindness and love. The name he holds onto like a beacon amidst the swirling sea of confusion.

“There is someone here to see you.”

A beautiful woman comes in the room, along with an older man. She looks like she’s been crying. She stands next to him, smiling down. It’s a tender, loving look and now he really does wish he could smile back.

“Oh, Robert, were so worried,” she says and she presses a kiss to his temple.

That was unexpected.

“Are you?” He starts, the words sounding like an echo in his mind. “Are you another one of the doctors?”

The woman goes pale, eyes darting between the man she came in with and the other one in the white coat who Robert knows is a doctor.

“No, Robert. It’s me. It’s Chrissie.”

That name isn’t right either.

“I don’t understand,” Robert says slowly. “Who?”

The woman stumbles backwards, a short sound of shock erupting from her lungs. She crumples into the chair next to his bed. The older man comes to comfort her so Robert turns his attention to the real doctor.

“Where is Aaron?”

“Aaron?” The doctor asks, pen halted on over his clipboard.

“Livesy,” He says, his mind becoming clearer by the second. “Is he arlight? Can you please go find him for me?”

“Is this someone he knows?” The doctor directs the question at Chrissie but it is Lawrence who answers.

“Yes,” he says. “He’s the local mechanic. Robert invested in his business recently.”

“No,” Robert says, insistent. He feels his heart beat more urgently. “That’s not it. Please, I need to know he’s ok. Please, I…”

The doctor waits. “Yes?”

Robert swallows, finally putting a word to the glowing feeling surrounding the name. “I love him.”

On the other side of the observation glass, Aaron watches their mouths move in silent exchange. First there is relief to see Robert moving and talking, looking alert if not a little sluggish. Then there is confusion as Chrissie sinks unexpectedly to her chair, consumed again by tears.

And finally there is bone-chilling dread, as Chrissie turns to look at him, her eyes glassy, full of utter loathing.

Chapter Text

“What you have to understand is that Mr. Sugden has suffered a great trauma.”

The scene in the hallway is intense. Chrissie is livid. Lawrence is baffled. Aaron is in complete shock. The doctor tries to remain neutral. Chas stands behind Aaron, her defences armed and ready to protect him and the nature of his true relationship to Robert at a moment’s notice.

Because only she and Aaron know that Robert’s words had been the truth. He does love Aaron. Or at least, he had claimed to at one point.

“Amnesia is not uncommon in these situations when a patient has suffered both physical and emotional trauma, such as he has. It could be temporary or it could have longer lasting effects.”

“But that doesn’t explain why he’s claiming to love you!” Chrissie spits. She can barely bring herself to look at him.

“I don’t know why he said it.” He feels breathless as the lies come. “It’s got to be some sort of mistake, right? I mean, it’s like you said, it’s just business between us.”

Chas steps closer and he can feel her support.

“His brain is working on healing itself,” The doctor says. “Confusion like this is not totally unheard of.”

“He was the one to find him,” Lawrence speaks for the first time. “Perhaps he’s just associating his rescue with something more,” Lawrence hesitates. “Intimate?”

“It’s possible,” the doctor says.

“But we have to set the record straight, don’t we?” Chrissie says. “I mean, we shouldn’t just let him continue to think that Aaron is actually anything more to him than the local who fixes his car.”

Aaron stifles a bitter laugh, remembering that call out to a country lay-by when the excuse of a breakdown had really just been an excuse to get them alone together.

“Right now, what he needs is rest. Come morning, I think it would be good for him to see Mr. Livsey, to resolve that urgency he obviously feels in regards to him. Then you can perhaps explain to him the situation, that he has things all wrong,” the doctor finishes, looking at Aaron.

“Fine,” he says, “Whatever is takes.” But there is a bitter taste in his mouth and a heaviness in his chest as he says it, a feeling that his hand is once again being forced.

*

“You’re doing the right thing, you know.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Aaron says bruskly. He pushes away from the breakfast table in Paddy’s kitchen the following morning, dropping his cereal bowl and spoon into the sink with a satisfying clatter.

“I know it’s hard, sweetheart, but it’s better that things stay as they are.”

“You sure about that?” Aaron turns, resting his hip back against the countertop, arms crossed. “It’s better to go to that hospital, go into his room and tell him that everything he thinks he knows about how he feels is a lie? I should just erase this one thing he seems to remember, erase the memory of everything we ever had together from his mind completely? Is that better, mum, really?” Aaron can’t help the venom in his voice. He knows it’s not her fault, but the whole idea hurts way too much. More than he cares to admit.

Chas stands. Her slow approach, along with the open, caring look on her face, helps disperse some of Aaron’s anger.

“He’s never going to leave her. You know that.”

“Even if he can’t remember her?” Aaron’s voice breaks and he takes a deep shuddering breath. “He remembers me, mum. All those times he chose her. But he remembers me.”

Chas rubs his shoulder. He is grateful to have this Chas right now. The version of his mum who is understanding and gentle. The one not passing judgement on him and his feelings for Robert. But even for all her empathy, he does not expect what she says next.

“Maybe it’s time the truth came out, then.”

Aaron snickers, wiping at his nose roughly. “That’s you changing your tune in less than a minute, isn’t it?”

“After what’s happened...” She presses her lips together, reining in her emotions. Clearly he got his capacity for easy tears from her. “Life is short, Aaron. Fight for those you love.”

“It’s not that though is it simple, is it? It never was for him and me.” Aaron shakes his head, pinching the ridge of his nose. “Look, let’s just get this over with.”

He grabs a light jacket and slumps out the door.

*

Robert knows things.

He knows how to work the telly. That breakfast comes before lunch, with tea in the evening. He knows how to flash a charming grin at the nurses to make them blush. He knows that people have families, mothers, fathers, siblings.

But when his family arrives, a girl named Victoria and a man named Andy, he has no recollection of them. When the girl they call “Vic” weeps and tells him Diane is gone, Robert feels nothing. To him that name is just a word.

It should be more upsetting to him, having lost everything. But at the same time, he can’t remember what he’s lost, so there is nothing to grieve.

All he has is the present, the future and the constant certainty of Aaron. He is the only thing that is crystal clear in his mind. So when the man finally walks through the door, it’s like the salvation of water in the desert and the joy of Christmas morning (because yes, he remembers that, too) all in one.

“Aaron,” he breathes, sitting up as high in the bed as his broken leg will allow.

Aaron pulls a chair up next to the far side of the bed. Through the observation window, he can see that woman Chrissie standing with her arms crossed, lips pressed into a firm line. Behind her is another woman he doesn’t know with long dark hair and a worried look on her face.

“You alright?” Robert asks. He isn’t sure how he knows, but he can tell Aaron is nervous.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” Aaron asks with a soft smile.

Robert laughs, looking at his hands in his lap as he realizes he feels a bit nervous too. “Yeah, I’m fine. I mean, aside from the deleted hard drive.”

He tries to give Aaron one of those winning smiles, but instead of getting a bashful grin in return like he’s come to expect, it is met with a pained expression across Aaron’s face.

“So you, you really don’t remember anything? About what happened?”

“I remember general things. I remember going to the Woolpack to find you. I’m sure sure why, exactly. That’s what it’s called, though, right? The pub?”

“Yeah,” Aaron says, grinning again. “That’s good.”

Encouraged, Robert presses deeper into his depleted archives. “I remember the sound of the explosion. I remember falling down. I remember you.”

Aaron holds his gaze, his face tranquil and plain. It’s beautiful. But then Aaron’s eyes flick to where Chrissie watches in the window and it is gone.

“So, about what you said yesterday. About me and you,” Aaron takes a steadying breath. “You’ve got it all wrong, mate.”

“What do you mean?”

“You said that you…”

“Love you,” The words feel even better when he can say them to Aaron.

“Yeah, only...you don’t,” Aaron says with grim assertion.

His statement makes no sense in Robert’s damaged mind. He was so certain.

“You and me, we’re just business partners. You invested in my new business a few months back. That’s it.”

“Really?” Robert asks, still not believing.

“Really. We’re not a couple. We’re barely even friends.”

Robert would swear he hears Aaron’s voice break.

“So you and me...we never…cause I would have sworn...”

Aaron swallows, jaw clenched. Then he shakes his head, no.

“It’s you and Chrissie, isn’t it? Always has been,” Aaron nods towards the window. “You’re married.”

“I’ve got a wife?” Robert asks with a laugh. He looks at Chrissie through the window and she gives him a tight smile. “You’ve got to be joking.”

He looks back at Aaron, points at the window over his shoulder, and mouths the word Her?

Aaron nods. “I was at the wedding.”

“Well,” Robert says, after a deep breath. “This is embarrassing.”

“It’s alright,” Aaron says standing. The smile he gives Robert this time is clearly forced. He claps his hand on Robert’s shoulder. “You just, take care of yourself, yeah? I’ll see you around.”

As Aaron’s fingers trail down the length of his arm, that touch says more than any of his words ever could. He knows that touch. It is as familiar as the sound of his own voice.

And Robert, who doesn’t even know his own birthday, knows - he knows - that Aaron is lying about them.

*

“Wow,” Robert says as Chrissie closes the door to Home Farm behind him.

Another week in hospital and Robert had finally been deemed fit enough to go home. Though as he hobbles through the front room, still moving a bit clumsily on his crutches, this sprawling farm feels nothing like home.

“It’s nice,” he says, eyeing the decor and wondering whose idea that ridiculous wall paper could have been. His money is on Lawrence.

Sitting at the bottom of the stairs, is Chrissie’s son Lachlan. He stands when he sees Robert, looking moody and pissy like any teenage boy would when he’s been asked to do something for his mum.

“Alright, Lochie?” Robert asks, testing out the nickname Chrissie says they use.

“Yeah, fine. Can I go now?”

“Aren’t you glad Robert’s home?” Chrissie asks, voice insinuating that he damn well better be.

“Course I am. I never wanted him to get hurt,” he says a bit too defensively.

“What does that mean?” Chrissie asks but he just gives her an impertinent eyeroll. He grabs Robert’s bag.

“I’ll take this upstairs, shall I?”

Chrissie watches as he stomps loudly on each ascending step. “Sorry. He’s been in a right state since the explosion. You’d think he was disappointed it wasn’t worse with how angry he’s been.”

She spins back around, clapping her hands together.

“So,” she starts, clearly as uncomfortable as he is.

It’s like a bad first date that never ends. Chrissie is beautiful and lovely and he can understand why he would have been interested in her. But every time she looks at him, eyes full of history, Robert sees only a stranger.

“This place, it jogging any memories?”

Robert makes a futile noise at the back of throat, wincing apologetically.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” She touches his arm lightly before taking it away. “I know they said not to pressure you.”

“I really wish I could remember,” he says earnestly.

“I know. It will happen. For now, I’m just glad you’re home.”

She stands in front of him, bashful determination in her eyes before going up on her tiptoes. She kisses him, her mouth soft and cautious. She let’s her hands come to his waist and he steps closer into the circle of her arms, hand finding the small of her back. There have been gentle kisses to his brow, chaste pecks to his cheek in farewell or greeting, but this is first time they’ve kissed like this, like a man and wife should. Like she remembers. Robert can’t say he doesn’t enjoy it even if it feels a bit dull.

When Chrissie steps back, bottom lip pouted, she watches him. Hoping that would have been enough to drag his memories out. Robert sees disappointment flash through her eyes when it doesn’t.

“Why don’t you take a look around, reacquaint yourself with the place. I’ll draw you a bath and make you some tea. Sound alright?”

“Sounds lovely.”

He makes his way slowly through the rooms, trailing his fingers across lacquered table tops and marble counters. He pauses to look at the artwork on the wall, considering each painting for a moment like something in a museum.

When he reaches the sitting room he is instantly drawn to the mantle and the pictures on display. Front and center in a gold gilded frame is Robert in a blue suit, flower pinned to his lapel and Chrissie, hair done up, beaming in her wedding gown.

It’s a surreal moment. For all he knows, he might as well have been photoshopped in. He remembers nothing of the day or the love that brought them there.

He considers the version of himself in that picture, the man who lived a life he can’t recall. That Robert looks tired, his eyes red and distant.

“Blimey, Sugden. Tie too many on at the stag do the night before?” He says to the picture of himself, because that does seem like something he might do.

He turns back to look at the room, when all of a sudden it is the room spinning and not him. He catches himself on the edge of the couch, gasping.

And that is when, in a flash, like the flicker of an old-time movie reel, he sees it. Remembers it.

The scene is gone before it was there, but the imprint of the moment remains.

He remembers this room, this couch. He remembers dressing gowns and lingering looks. Of love that had waited so long to be felt. He remembers kisses, rough-edged but tender. Kisses that felt nothing like Chrissie’s.

And deep in his brain, the pounding, unrelenting thought of Aaron, Aaron, Aaron beats its way back to the surface once more.

“Oh, god, Robert! Are you alright?”

Chrissie sets the tea cup down on the table before helping him to sit on the couch. “I just got dizzy for a moment.”

“Was it...something?” She asks, sounding hopeful.

Robert looks at her, knowing instinctively that this is best kept to himself, and plasters a smile to his lips. “No, it was nothing.”

*

It feels wrong having Diane’s memorial anywhere but the Woolpack. She was synonymous with that place and the collective memory of Emmerdale will forever link her to expertly pulled pints, sage advice and a take-no-prisoners attitude when it came to trouble at her pub.

Emmerdale won’t be the same without her, there is no doubt about that.

Instead, they’re all crowded into Vic’s cottage as the hostess keeps herself busy fussing over canapes and refilling drinks so as to prevent any further breakdowns. The one at the church had been hard enough to watch

Even as Aaron says his own private goodbyes to the woman he shared his home with, he can’t help but watch Robert. He totters about on his crutches, smiling meekly as he shakes hands, as if for the first time, with people he’s known his whole life.

The people turn away, sharing pitying looks with each other. Aaron hopes Robert doesn’t notice.

He spots Robert sometime later, sat in the corner on his own. He rubs at his knee just above where his plaster cast would end, his eyes staring blindly ahead. He looks worn out, exhausted from putting on a good face.

And Aaron knows he should steer clear. That leaving Robert alone will make his life easier. But when has he ever done the easy thing?

“That thing is going to start itching like mad in a few days time,” Aaron says, gesturing to Robert’s leg with his beer. “You’ll think you’ll go mental if you can’t figure a way to get in there and scratch.”

“Great, fantastic, I’ll look forward to it.”

The corner of Aaron’s mouth curls up as he pulls up a chair next to him. “I had a broken ankle this spring. I think wearing that cast was actually worse than the break.”

“Oh yeah? How’d you manage that?”

Aaron catches a quick breath, as he remembers that brutal, hopeless night alone in the woods. He thinks of that moment he’d heard Chas’s voice and felt Robert’s coat, body-warm and smelling of his aftershave, tucked around his body. Ironic, really, that it had been Robert to find him only to have Aaron return the favor a few months later.

“Long story.” Aaron says finally, leaving Robert none the wiser. “So when they spring you, then?” Aaron asks, changing the subject.

“Few days ago.”

“Finally get sick of you?” He teases.

“Finally got sick of my jokes, I think. After all, I can only remember one.”

Aaron laughs at his pathetic jibe and Robert smiles, toothy and warm.

It’s a look that reminds him of that sliver of happiness between Robert’s “I love you” and Aaron’s accident. A look tinged with winter-time and the days when Robert would flirt shamelessly when no one was looking and Aaron would play hard-to-get, even though Robert knew he was his.

It takes Aaron back to the time when he hadn’t felt like he had to stop loving Robert for his own good. The time before the explosion.

Back to all the time Robert forgot.

“So,” Aaron asks leaning forward. “How is that head of yours?”

“Sharp as a tack and quicker than ever but still on factory reset, I’m afraid.” Robert wipes his palms down over his thighs, then rests his elbows on his knees, closing the space between them. “But the other day, Chrissie took me up to Emmerdale farm, wanted to show me where I grew in hopes of, you know,” he makes a circular motion near his head. “Well, there was this barn and it’s not like it was a clear memory or anything, more just a feeling but...”

His eyes search Aaron’s face, jumping from eyes to lips to hairline and back again.

“Did we ever meet there? For a business meeting or something…”

Aaron’s heart beats so hard in his chest he’s sure Robert can see it through his shirt.

He remembers.

“We did,” Aaron says, voice tight. “A couple times. I think you just wanted to be someplace no one would disturb us,” Aaron says, not exactly lying. He presses his beer bottle to his lips, hoping to hide his growing panic.

Robert sits back, crossing his arms across his chest with a bemused look on his face. “Interesting choice in venue.”

Aaron nearly chokes on his drink at the familiar words. He stands quickly, the chair screeching across the wooden floor. “I should go.” Robert eyes him strangely. “Check on my mum.”

“Right,” Robert says. “It was nice talking to you, Aaron.”

The affectionate look in his eyes fills Aaron’s heart near to bursting. “You too, Robert.”

*

Alone, his flash car revved to the limit, hugging tight to the curves of the country road, Robert feels free for the first time since the explosion.

It’s been nearly a month and he’s sick of the looks. Those droopy eyed, poor dear, still can’t remember looks that make his skin crawl. He gets them from Lawrence. He gets them from Vic.

Then there are the ever hopeful looks from Chrissie, that one morning she’ll wake up and her husband will be back, not only in body but in mind too.

Robert grips the steering wheel tighter. His knuckles going white around the fine leather. He needs this. Just because his cast is off and he’s started working a few hours a day again, it does not mean that everything is alright. Because nothing is alright.

He makes a tight left turn and finds himself in the village. Slowing down he drives down Main Street.

He drives past the Woolpack, cement mixers and lorrys full of lumber sit outside the front door. The fire investigators had determined the explosion was caused by a gas leak. A busted gauge. They hadn’t ruled out foul play, but then in a building as old as the Woolie, one never knew when it was apt to fail.

But he keeps driving, his destination further up the road. He idles outside Dingle and Dingle garage, watching a familiar man close up for the day.

Aaron is the only person who doesn’t treat Robert like something broken. Instead, in the few times their paths have crossed, he’s never been afraid to speak his mind or take the mick.

Which makes the niggling feeling that there is something he’s missing about the two of them all the more frustrating. When he’d woken up, Aaron - his name, his face, his feelings for him - had been the only thing that was crystal clear. The only thing that hadn’t felt blurry or faded or gone completely.

So now, as he continues to feel like there is an essential part of himself that he hasn’t quite sorted out yet, he can’t help but wonder if that missing piece to the jigsaw puzzle is Aaron Livsey shaped.

Aaron notices Robert watching; his car isn’t the most inconspicuous thing in the world, after all. Robert gives a small wave and Aaron nods back, wiping at his hands with a oil covered towel.

Robert turns down the drive.

“Alright?” he says, as Robert rolls down the window.

“Yeah, fine. You?”

Aaron points at the car, his eyebrows pulled together in confusion. “You sure you should be driving? Cause, well you know...”

“I can’t remember the name of my childhood best friend, but this,” Robert spreads his hands wide on the steering wheel, caressing the fine German craftsmanship of the Audi’s dash. “This I remember. Should have seen my face when Chrissie opened the garage with not only this car but a 1960 Austin Healey inside.” Robert whistles.

Aaron snickers gently through his nose. “You like that one too, then?”

“Aw, she’s a beaut. I’ll have to bring it around. Let you take a look at it.”

“I’ve seen your car,” Aaron says. But his eyes, instead of pitying like Robert expects when he crosses paths with his own history, are playful. Robert grins up at him.

“How’ve you been?” Robert asks, lamely trying to expand the conversation.

“Yeah, fine.”

“You still staying with, Paddy, is it?”

“No, mum and I are at the B&B now. Insurance money finally came through.”

“Right.”

“Things at the scrapyard are clipping along, if you were wondering about your investment.”

“Yeah, of course. The investment.” Robert says. In truth, he’d almost forgotten.

“Look, I’m trying to close up. So...” Aaron looks over his shoulder at the waiting work.

“Right, that’s me off then.” Robert restarts the car and revs the engine for Aaron’s sake. Aaron simply shakes his head, still smiling. “Might be just one problem though,” Robert says, sheepish.

“What’s that?”

“I don’t exactly remember how to get back to Home Farm.”

“Idiot,” Aaron says and it’s almost sounds affectionate. “Alright, let me finish up and I’ll take you back.”

“You know how to get there?”

“It’s Home Farm,” Aaron says, with a dismissive snort. “Everyone knows how to get there. Except you, you head case.”

*

Aaron stretches his hand out the window into the fading sunshine. The air whips fast over his arm as Robert downshifts, the car responding beautifully to Robert’s command. He handles the Audi around another bend, the engine growling, and they grin at each other. Just two blokes, nerding out over a fast car.

“It’ll be your next drive on the left,” Aaron says after a few more minutes. The silence is easy which makes it hurt all the more.

He’s not so bad, this Robert 2.0. Wiped clean of his arrogance and pretension, that more humane, kinder core that Vic so often refers to and Aaron has seen from time to time, has come out as the dominant trait.

Aaron likes Robert now, as well as still begrudgingly loving him, and that leaves him on dangerous, slippery ground.

Robert parks the car in the drive.

“Want to come in for a drink?”

Aaron hesitates.

“Look, I know you said we weren’t really friends, before. But I’d like it if we were mates. I don’t really seem to have many of those.” Robert looks down at his hands, chagrined. He takes a quick breath, putting a smile on his face. “Besides, I owe you one for showing me the way home.”

“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.”

“Aaron, if this is about what I said when I woke up...”

“It’s fine...”

“No, let me explain,” Robert undoes his seatbelt and turns towards him in his seat. “I was so sure when I woke up that you were the most important person in my life. That you had to be my boyfriend or my partner, or at least someone that I had...”

Robert’s eyes flit down to Aaron’s mouth, his lips parted. Aaron’s whole body feels electric under Robert’s intoxicating gaze. He feels himself being drawn in, drawn forward, spinning helplessly in Robert’s orbit.

“I can't trust what was in my own head but I trust you.” They are close now. Aaron can feel Robert’s breath, just as shallow as his own, on his face. “So if you say we’re nothing then I believe you.”

Robert’s voice coils around him, calculating and smooth.

“So are we?” He breathes. “Nothing?”

Aaron wants nothing more than to close the small space left. To feel Robert’s lips, his tongue filling his mouth, his hand caressing his jaw the way he loves.

He wishes he could tell him everything. Tell him every truth. Every lie. Tell him that he is right and that they were right, in their time. Give him the chance to make it right again.

The air pulsates. Aaron licks his lips, any final ounce of resolution eviscerated by the smell of Robert’s aftershave wafted by the summer breeze through the rolled-down window.

But suddenly the beautiful anticipation in Robert’s eyes disappears as he grabs his head with both hands, crying out in pain.

“Robert?” Aaron reaches for him, only to have Robert pull away. “What’s happening?”

“My head. Hurts.”

“Thanks, obvious. But what can I do? What do you need?”

Robert looks sickly pale. He presses hard against his temples with his thumb and forefinger. “Just, help me inside, yeah?”

Robert doesn’t need to ask twice.

*

“Oh, god, there you are!”

Chrissie’s voice is like an anvil on his head. He’d been a heartbeat away from kissing Aaron, when the pain had struck, jagged like a lightning bolt. Searing like a knife cut across his head, right behind his eyes. A pain so intense he’d almost felt sick. The doctors had warned that attacks like this might happens, but the reality was blinding and frightening.

The short trek from the car to the house in the cooler evening air had helped. Sitting on the couch, quietly massaging his temples is helping too. Now all that remains is the throbbing ache of a deep bruise.

“Well, aren’t you going to tell me where you went?”  She rails on, seemingly oblivious to the fact he’s in pain.

“I just needed to get out for a bit,” Robert says.

“I’ve been worried sick and you forgot to take your phone. Again.” She tosses his mobile onto the couch and he looks down at it then up at her with half-lidded, irritated eyes.

“I know you like to forget this, but I am a grown man.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” She snaps.

“I got you some water but all I could find was Tylenol so I wasn’t sure if you…”

Aaron comes in from the kitchen, his voice trailing off as he sees he and Robert are no longer alone. Chrissie crosses her arms, staring at him indignantly.

“Give it here,” Robert says, softly, to Aaron. With a quick look between the two sparring spouses, Aaron joins him on the couch. He hands Robert the water and opens the bottle, dumping two pills into Robert’s waiting palm.

“I’m sorry,” Chrissie laughs snidely. “What exactly is happening here?”

“Leave it, Chrissie.” Robert says. His voice is calm and weary. A stark contrast to Chrissie’s shrill tone.

“No, I’d like to know why he’s in my house,” She says, eyes narrowing at Aaron.

“I went to go see him, alright?”

“You what?”

“He showed up at the garage,” Aaron clarifies. “He couldn’t remember how to get back here so I came back with him to show him the way. His head started hurting when we were in the car.”

Aaron can feel Robert’s eyes on him and they share a glance, remembering what was just about to happen when his head had flared.

“So you just thought you’d come in my house and start rifling through my medicine cabinet? Something you’ve got a lot of experience with, isn’t it?”

“Jesus, Chrissie! What are you on about?” Robert says, genuinely getting upset now. He stares slack jawed at her for a moment. “I asked him to help me in, alright? God, what has he ever done to you?”

She laughs, sardonically. “Oh if only you knew.”

“Yeah, but I don’t do I?” Robert shouts. He stands, his head all but forgotten. “And you just love pointing that out, don’t you? Just how much I don’t know.” He pauses, catching his breath. “All I know is how I feel.”

Chrissie blinks at him, panic weakening her condescending attitude.

“And Aaron, he feels important. Being with him, it feels real.”

“We’ve talked about this, Robert,” Chrissie says. She comes around the coffee table, reaching for him. Robert steps away from her touch. “What you think you feel...it’s just your injury playing tricks on you. You’re just confused.”

“Am I though?” Robert says, roughly. He look at Chrissie, then glances down at Aaron. The next question is meant for him. “Am I really?”

Chrissie sees the tender exchange between them.

“You,” Chrissie growls, stalking towards Aaron. “What have you been telling him? What lies? Gay lad in a small town, hungry for a viable target, of course you’re going to develop crush.”

“Christ, Chrissie, listen to yourself! You’re disgusting!” Robert pulls her away from Aaron, a feral, disgusting noise rips from her lungs.

“Mum?”

Over Chrissie’s shoulder, Robert sees Lachlan hesitant at the foot of the stairs. He must have heard the shouting.

“What’s going on?” He asks, then as he sees Aaron, sneers and asks. “What’s he doing here?”

“Stay out of this Lochie,” Chrissie snaps. “Tell him, Aaron. Tell him he’s got it all wrong, and maybe, a little louder this time because obviously he didn’t hear you.”

“Oh, I heard him alright. I just chose to ignore it because I know what I feel. Makes me wonder who has really been feeding me the lies.”

“How many more times do you have to hear it - this is nothing more than some twisted fantasy created by your -”

“Then why did he and I-”

“Everyone, shut up!” Lachlan’s voice echos through the room. “He’s right, mum. And I can prove it.”

*

Robert stares at the picture in the palm of his hand captured on Lachlan’s phone.

The picture is slightly blurry as they had probably been laughing when they took it. Aaron’s beard is fuller than it is now, his hair soft, his eyes glowing. Robert’s hair has that distinctive just-woke-up look, a dopey smile on his lips. Only their bare shoulders are visible in the shot, but Robert knows somehow that neither of them are wearing clothes. His arms encircle Aaron, then reach towards the camera, his cheek resting against the top of Aaron’s head.

And this picture, out of focus and unposed, feels worlds different than the one on the mantle. That shiny, presentation of a perfect life had left him feeling empty. This one fills him up. He knows that version of himself in the picture. Knows that moment.

Remembers.

“It was Easter,” Robert says, his eyes still focused on the picture. “We had the house to ourselves. And finally, finally, we had all this time to be on our own.”

Then he looks up at Aaron, who stands nearby, chewing nervously at his thumb. He wants verification from him even though he’s sure. Aaron stops to give Robert a tight nod and a small smile, hoping it is enough to convey how proud he is that he is remembering correctly.

“Where did you find this, Lachlan?” Chrissie asks. She hugs her arms close to her body in attempts to stop the trembling.

“On Robert’s laptop.”

“When?” She breathes.

“Before the accident.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” The depth of the betrayal is finally sinking in and she cannot look anywhere but the floor.

“I was going to take care of it.”

Robert looks up from the picture. “What does that mean?”

“I didn’t want mum to get hurt again. After everything with dad, I just didn’t want Robert to leave you like he had.”

“You threatened me.” Robert says as his eyes glaze over as if in a trance, memories slowly trickling back into his mind. “You showed up in the office one day, all full of swagger because you had this, this proof. And you threatened me...Threatened Aaron if he didn’t keep away.”

“You what?” Chrissie asks, finally looking at her son.

“I just thought that if I gave him a scare he’d leave all of us alone,” He gestures weakly at Aaron, frightened tears leaving his voice clenched and small. “I swear…I’m so sorry, mum. I didn’t mean for anyone to get hurt.”

“You,” Aaron rasps, as the brutal reality of what Lachlan is saying registers in everyone’s mind. “You tampered with the gas valve?”

“Lochie, no…” Chrissie sobs.

“I thought you might get sick. Maybe end up in hospital overnight from the CO2 poisoning, then I’d let you know just who you were messing with...”

“You fucking, worthless maggot,” Aaron is across the room in two bounding steps, the front of Lachlan’s shirt bunched up in both his fists. “My mum was in there. Diane died. Robert nearly did,” Aaron snarls in his face.

“I didn’t think it would actually make it blow up!” Lachlan says, desperately.

“Well, you thought wrong, didn't you, you slimy pillock,” Aaron sneers at him, roughing him up even more. Everyone knows what comes next if Aaron is left to his own devices.

Robert’s hands, surprisingly gentle across his belly and his voice at his ear, “Easy now,” coax him down. Aaron is still fuming, disgusted and appalled but he takes a deep breath, reining the anger in.

“I’m so sorry, mum,” Lachlan blubbers as Chrissie folds him into her arms. “I know I messed up.”

“I know sweetheart, I know you were only trying to protect me.”

“You’re actually going to defend him?” Aaron shouts, a Robert continues to hold him back. “After what he did? You’re not right in the head. Either of you!”

“Wouldn’t be the first time though would it, Chrissie?” Robert says, surprised by the sinister twist in his voice. The memory of Lachlan’s delinquency is vague, misshapen and unclear, but it leave him disgusted. “God, what did you do to that girl to make Lawrence and Chrissie think they could pay her off if she kept quiet? You going to try to pay off the whole village this time? Or maybe just the fire investigators?”

Lachlan goes white and drops to the floor, crying openly like the child he is.

“He made a mistake, Robert,” Chrissie says as she kneels down next to her son.

“Seems to be a trend.”

“Oh and you are one to talk,” Chrissie snaps.

“What do you mean?” Robert asks, his voice suddenly thready.

“What about hiring the local thug and your boyfriend to break into your own home just so you could swoop in and play the hero, giving your father in law a heart attack in the processes?”

“I what?”

“Or what about flirting shamelessly with that same poor old man just to get promoted in work because you knew I’d never give a look your way otherwise?”

“I don’t…” Robert staggers back, his face pale, his blood running cold. “Why would I do that?”

“Because you’re a manipulative, conniving, jealous, man Robert Sugden," she says as she stands. "Who thrives on power and prestige. You really think haven't done what Lachlan claims to and worse?  You really think yourself so righteous as to judge him?  Then I suggest a good long look in the mirror because I think you may just see otherwise.”

Robert stares at Chrissie as the words sink in.  With a pained look at Aaron, rushes out the front door.

Chrissie looks proud and smug and Aaron wants to spit on her shoes for it.

“Well done,” Aaron snaps, before going after Robert.

*

Aaron can see the flicker of the television in the B&B’s sitting room through the window. His mum and Val sit together on the settee watching an old episode of Ab Fab, both laughing like idiots.

“Evening,” Chas says, barely turning her head over her shoulder as Aaron walks in. “Missed you for tea.”

“I know. Sorry.”

Something about his tone of voice makes Chas turn and look at Aaron properly this time, just as Robert comes through the door behind him.

Chas’s eye pop wide.

“Hiya, Chas,” Robert says meekly and her eyes go all the wider.

Without further instruction, Robert starts up the stairs to the guest rooms.

“Not one word, alright?” Aaron whispers as Chas opens her mouth to protest.  She clamps it shut. “I know what I’m doing.”

She gives him a fortifying nod, hoping he’s right.

Robert is already on the bed, head dropped into his hands by the time Aaron gets upstairs.

“Sorry, it’s a mess,” Aaron says. He drops his keys, then is suddenly self-conscious of all the clutter than has accumulated in the weeks he’s been staying here. He makes a quick attempt at cleaning. Throwing some old magazines in the bin. Kicking some laundry that needs doing into a pile in the corner.

“You think I care?” Robert says, his voice void of everything - emotion, strength, life. It’s so unlike him. “It feels like the entire planet has been ripped out from underneath me, you think I care about your empties?”

Aaron sits next to him on the bed. Taking a risk, he runs a hand up Robert’s back, giving the base of his neck a gentle squeeze. Robert exhales, accepting the touch.

“How much do you remember then?”

As soon as he’d rushed out into the night air, Robert had vomited all over the gravel drive in front of Home Farm.

His head had started throbbing again, as fragments of memory began to clutter his previously clear mind. Initially, they had dropped in like the first timid drops of a rainstorm. Then like a deluge, they had overwhelmed him.

Aaron telling him he loves him with tears in his eyes. A shaky phone call on a recently purchased, throw-away phone. An engraving on a set of wedding rings. Vic’s smile at her birthday party. Tea with Diane. A night in a posh hotel with the wrong person.

He had been vomiting again when Aaron found him.

“It’s still not much. Fragments mostly.”

“I’ll help clear things up for you, if I can.”

“There was a girl,” Robert says, voice desolate. “Blond. She was...she was lying on the floor of a barn. Dead.”

“I didn’t actually mean this second...”

“Just tell me.”

Aaron huffs a sigh. “You’ve been through the ringer enough tonight.”

“Please, Aaron. I know you were there. Did...” He swallows painfully. “Did I do that to her?”

There will be days ahead, as Robert’s memory fleshes itself out - or doesn’t - for the two of them to come to terms with the happenings of that day again. For now all Robert needs is assurance that these half memories and Chrissie’s vicious words aren’t all he’s made of.

“It was an accident.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” Robert says, his voice wavering.

“I am,” Aaron says, turning on the bed to face him.  He grabs hold of Robert's arms, even as he tries to cower away. “You once swore to me on your life that this was the truth, that it really was just an accident. And now I’m swearing the same thing on mine.”

Robert scans Aaron’s face, then under his fingers, Aaron can feel the tension in Robert’s body release as he accepts Aaron’s words as truth.  After all, he has no other choice.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, already leaning in for a kiss.

His lips are so soft, softer than Aaron remembers, kissing him now with a more vulnerable soul. They move sweetly against his, reacquainting, remembering, and God, Aaron has missed this so much.

But Aaron remembers another kiss, stolen in drunken desperation. That one hadn’t sat right with Aaron either.

“Wait,” He says. He pushes him away, but lets his fingers linger on the fabric of his shirt to let Robert know this is a pause and not a rejection. “I don’t know if this is a good idea.”

“You seemed as eager for it in the car as I was.”

“Yeah, but that was before...”

“Right,” Robert says, standing up, dejected. “Before I remembered what a manipulative, greedy, dangerous arsehole I am. No wonder you wanted nothing to do with me when I woke up.”

Aaron is off the bed, Robert’s face between his hands, in a millisecond.

“I’ve always known exactly who you were. Who you are.” A tear slips down Robert’s cheek, slipping over Aaron’s fingers. He wipes the next one that escapes Robert’s eye away with his thumb. “I fell in love with you anyway.”

They meet halfway this time.

The passion has always been easy between them, there from their very first tryst. Fast, breathless kisses that had urged and aroused, making fire where once there was only spark. But the reason Aaron fell, the reason he knew that Robert had fallen too even if he hadn’t admitted it at first, was the tenderness that followed the fire. The comfort taken from the flame.

Robert wraps his arms around Aaron’s waist, pulling him as close as he can, stealing strength and warmth from his tight fitting body. When their knees knock together, Aaron encourages him backwards towards the bed. Robert sits on the edge, then pulls Aaron along with him by his belt loop as he lays back against the headboard.

“You sure?” Aaron asks, his hips settles in the welcoming V of Robert’s legs.

Robert looks up at him, more open, more loving, more present than he has ever been. He smooths the edges of Aaron’s hair back against his brow, then lets his hand trail the length of his face. Watching the movement, savoring the touch.

“You’re the only thing I’ve ever been sure of.”

*

There is little room left in the narrow single bed, with two grown men occupying it. But even if the bed were a mile wide, Aaron doesn’t think he’d move an inch. Robert skin feels like velvet beneath his fingertips as he traces and retraces every familiar curve. Robert’s lips are pressed against Aaron’s temple, resting in a perpetual kiss.

“Seems like your memory didn’t need any jogging on that front,” Aaron says into the silence.

He feels Robert’s mouth morph into a smirk. The he cranes his head, peering down at him. “Alright, was it?”

“Don’t let it go to your head,” Aaron says, as he tries to fight back a stupid grin. Robert kisses him before he loses the battle.

Robert flops back on the bed, eyes narrowing on the ceiling and Aaron can tell he’s lost in memory again.

“I’m not gay, though,” he says. It’s not an assertion or denial this time, more like an observation.

“That’s what you keep saying,” Aaron sighs. “Though after that, I’m not sure how you can keep admitting you’re straight.”

“I remember women, though. Being with women, loving women. But I remember men too, all nameless and faceless. Until you.”

Their smiles are as soft and warm as their limbs.

“So I’m bisexual then.”

Aaron snickers. “If you say so.”

“It sounds right, though I don’t think I’ve ever said it out loud. Ticking boxes, not really my thing, but that seems to be the closest fit.”

He props himself up on his elbow. Aaron lifts his hand, running the back of it over Robert’s chest down to his hip. He pauses, pivots his hand to feel the small, purple line near his navel from his surgery. Now Robert has his own scars to match Aaron’s.

“Does anyone know about us?”

Aaron nods. “My mum. Paddy.”

“And what did they think?”

“Never really liked that I was just your bit on the side.”

“I don’t like you being my bit on the side either.” Robert’s voice is sly and flirty, with a curl of a smile to match. Aaron’s heart begins to pound.

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying, that I’d like for us to be together. Properly.”

Aaron suddenly feels uncomfortably hot. He rips the thin sheet off him and sits, throwing on his undershirt and boxers. He goes over to the window and flings it open, the cool night air welcome relief across his naked chest.

“What about Chrissie?” Aaron says gruffly, eyes focused on the stars overhead.

“I’m not going back to her.”

“Not for the money?”

“Not for anything. I don’t love her. I don’t even know her. Nor do I think I really want to after tonight.”

Aaron tries to rein in his disbelief.

“And you’ll just go tell Vic and Andy you’re bisexual, then?”

“If you want me to, of course. But if you and I are a couple they’ll probably figure it out anyway.”

It’s everything Robert would never give him, laid out on a silver platter. It far too simple for the likes of them.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear you say all this.  To actually choose me,” Aaron says, choking back the tears that are dead set on forming. He sniffs, blinking, willing them away.

“Did I hurt you, Aaron?”

Robert’s crystalline question is his undoing and a tear slips past his best defenses.

Aaron turns to look at Robert sitting in the bed, the bed they’d just made love in, the sheets pooled around his waist looking ravished and honestly troubled.

“You could say that,” he says, turning back to brace himself on the window sill.  "And now you offering me exactly what I've been waiting for and I should be happy, but if the only reason you're doing this is because you've forgotten everything else."

"It's not."

He hears the creek of the mattress springs as Robert gets out of bed. Even through his shirt, Robert’s fingers on the small of his back feel like tiny little explosions against his skin.

“I remembered something else tonight,” he says.  "I remembered why I was at the pub before the explosion."  Aaron looks him over his shoulder.  "Chrissie and I had fought, again. And I was just sick of it all.  I remembered how much happier I was was being with you, how I liked myself better when I was with you.  So I was coming to you, to see if you'd give me the time to do things right.  To divorce Chrissie, make up to you all the times I let you down, start again with you.  So see, we would have ended up here either way.  Or at least I hope so," he whispers sweetly. 

"I know you probably don't remember, but we fight all the time too."

"Yeah, but that was because I was an idiot most of the time."

Aaron laughs gently.  "Good memory."

Robert gives him that dastardly Sugden grin that reels Aaron in every time.

“This is a second chance for me to get things right with you, with... everything. I am literally a blank slate.  Ready to be made new.  I finally get to do things the right way, to live the life that I want, not the one I think I wanted.  Surely that’s got to be worth a go?”

The familiar words flit across Aaron’s heart.  Robert’s eyes narrow.

“I’ve said that to you before, haven’t I?”

Aaron nods, a similarly cautious smile warming his face.

Robert wraps his arms around his waist, yanking Aaron against him. “And what did you say then?”

“I said, ‘When you put it like that.'”

Robert presses a kiss to the small bit of skin behind Aaron’s ear and whispers, “And what do you say now?”

Robert's breath tickles against his skin.

“I say ‘yes’.”