Thursday
by
Aznavour
Summary: One evening, Aaron Echolls realizes something rather profound. Featuring Aaron and Logan about eight years ago.
Disclaimer: Not mine, not mine, not mine!
A/N: A special thanks to Phoenyx, crazy4horses, and GMUXMenSoaps, reviewers of That Particular Parade - this probably wouldn't have come to be without you! Kudos to my fantastic beta, as well, and feedback is always appreciated. Enjoy!
Aaron Echolls stumbles over a chair in the darkness, and he almost spills his open bottle of red wine. He slurs a curse, because honestly - the last thing he needs is another stain on the new carpet. He knew they should have gotten a darker colour, but Lynn had wanted beige and couldn't they have just one thing her way for once?
Aaron glares at an invisible version of his wife as he slumps down into the black leather armchair by the coffee table.
It's all her fault anyway, he muses, sipping clumsily. And he's glad she's away for the week, because he doesn't really feel like talking to her. Although next time he'll insist she take Logan with her. He's busy - he doesn't have time to deal with loud and disrespectful nine-year-olds.
Loud and disrespectful nine-year-olds who make scenes while important friends/prospective producers are over for dinner.
Aaron is fairly certain it's still Thursday, and he knows that he's got a script to review before tomorrow, and that Logan has school tomorrow, and that Lynn comes home tomorrow - she'll be upset when she finds out about what happened after Aaron's important friends bade him farewell and drove away.
But for now it's just Thursday, so he leans back and prepares to have another quick drink and- but then it comes to him. A soft, slow whirl of realization twists its way to the foreground of his mind and whispers carefully in his ear.
"This is wrong," it says.
Aaron scoffs at it.
"What is?" he demands loudly. But he knows what; as his gaze falls on a broken vase, the pieces of shattered china glinting slightly in the moonlight, and finally the closet door at the top of the stairs, Aaron Echolls rises from his seat and puts his bottle on the kitchen table. He unsteadily climbs to the second floor and continues down the hall a short ways. Everything is so completely, utterly clear now it's making his head spin. This was wrong...
Aaron coaxes Logan out of the closet. He ignores his son's split lip and suspicious expression, takes him back to the living room, and sets him down on the armchair. He, himself, sits on his couch.
"You and I," Aaron begins, trying hard not to slur the words too badly - this is important, after all, "hafto learn how to be nicer to each other."
The next morning, Aaron Echolls awakes lying haphazardly on his bed wearing crumpled clothes. His knuckles on his left hand are sore and his head is pounding and it feels like he slept on his shoulder wrong.
Wrong...
That reminds him of something, but his mind is so hazy right now he doubts he'll ever remember it.
As it happens, he never does.
End.
