Author's Note: Sorry guys for not updating in what seems like forever. My computer broke down and was taken away for repairs. In the end it needed a new hard drive, so I've had to wait for that to come back. All my current fanfic's I was unable to get into, until now. So I'll be working on them as from now and getting them updated as soon as possible. For now I'll supply you with this little (maybe) one shot that I hope you will enjoy. I had to go back to paper and Pen for a while, it was awful. I hope you review and appreciate this as I am staying up past midnight to post this the eve before two of my GCSE's.
Why?
He was angry, really angry. No. . . . Worse. He was lived, annoyed, infuriated but worst of all he was scared. Aaron knew it had been wrong to haul Jackson to his feet as he shouted in his face, disregarding Hazel's protests to let go of her son. But he was blinded by the rage that he had taken hold of him while Jackson once more spoke of his wish to die. He wasn't thinking straight as he screamed at Jackson how he could chuck him out the window himself if he wanted a 2get out2 so badly. All the time battling against the pools of tears that was threatening to fall at anytime.
He dropped Jackson carelessly into his wheelchair. He wanted to get out. He wanted to get as far away as he could before he done something he would regret. He was so exasperated he shook as he swatted away the rouge tears and demanded for his train ticket. His head was a mess and he needed time and space to himself to as least try and figure out some of the jumble that spun through his mind. He couldn't do that is all he could see was Jacksons's self-pitting face and announcements of his desire to end his life. It was sick! And selfish! And stupid!
He would know he'd tried and failed. It took a while but he realised what a selfish act it had been. He'd wanted to try again when he woke up in hospital. He had told Paddy he still wanted to die, and he'd only told him he didn't mean it. He did at the time. Now he realised just how selfish it was, how many people he would have hurt. His mum, Paddy, friends and family, all of the people he cared about he would have. He just wished that Jackson could see that. see how selfish it was to commit suicide. If only the builder knew how much he would hurt him if he did get his wish.
It wasn't about him though, it was about Jackson. He knew Jackson would regret even thinking about ending his life in a few years time. He was still struggling to come to terms with his accident and rightly so! He just wished he would think rationally and not rush into anything to soon. It hadn't even been a year since the accident, so he could at least give things time. Give him time to make him see different. He was going to do everything possible that would help him change Jacksons mind. He didn't care how long it would take. He was going to do it. If he would die trying it was only a minor issue. Jackson living was everything to him and if he didn't live. He wouldn't have a life. He wouldn't even exist.
He'd often thought what would be different if he hadn't of mucked up his own suicide. Many a times he had found himself thinking that as he had sat by Jackson's bed in hospital after the horrific accident and he now found him self thinking that again. Jackson would never have been affected if he had died. Not even Clyde his beloved dog would have been murdered. He would have still been living with Paddy. There would have been no Mickey business leading to their argument which carried into the night Jackson had been slammed into by a train. They wouldn't have been arguing at the side of the road, Jackson would have never of driven off in a mood and he wouldn't have called Jackson. Best of all the train would have never of ploughed into Jackson's van and in his eyes needed his life. He'd half killed him. He would have still been a full function lovable person that loved life and live it to the fullest, without a care in the world and loving everyone he met. Unlike him.
Jackson wouldn't be this stranger that now replaced his old self. That's what he was to Aaron, a stranger. However on rare moments Aaron would catch a glimpse of the old Jackson. His Jackson would return for a second or an afternoon, but he'd be there and that made Aaron more determined to make Jackson see it was worth living and he did have a purpose. That was what had angered him the most that afternoon when Jackson had said he had led the best life, like he had come to an end, defeated. Aaron had witnessed Jackson's excitement when he jumped from plane, he had looked genuinely Happy. Like the old Jackson he had been bursting full of joy as he screamed at the top of his lungs on his way down to earth.
Then they had hit a brick wall, just as Aaron had thought he'd convince Jackson. Although he'd said he felt like he could feel again as he soared through the air, he still wanted to die. It made something snap inside of him when he heard him say that. He wanted to break windows, hurl furniture across the room and smash plates against the wall. Anything to rid himself of the uncontrollable anger that seemed to have taken its hold. He'd seized hold of his disabled boyfriend and yelled in his face. Now it made himself feel sick, how could he have done that? It was Just as bad as when he'd hit him in the pub. How could that convince Jackson he should carry on?
Their fun weekend away to Whitby had ended on a sour note as he'd stormed out of the rented apartment with his ticket in hand and rucksack. At first he'd had every intention of heading back to emmer dale but the anger had fizzled away it had been replaced by hurt and fear as he mulled over the prospect of no Jackson in his life. He didn't want to stand on a busy platform with shouting children and flustered business men. He wanted to go home, curl up on his bed and just sleep. He wanted to wake up and it would all be just one insanely awful nightmare or that he was in Jackson's position. He wished he was the one that had driven off. If he could switch places with Jackson, he would in a heartbeat. Jackson was his world and without him he wouldn't be able to find any strength to continue. He'd helped him grow up, taken him back after all his mistakes and wrong doings. Jackson was his protector and the only person that truly got him. He could tell him his fears and dreams without Jackson he would be back to his old self, angry, aggressive and scared. He was supposed to have protected Jackson. And look how that had turned out.
He couldn't die. He wasn't going to die! Aaron knew he could make all these promises to him, Jackson, others but he wasn't powerful enough to follow through. Once Jackson got an idea he was too stubborn to change his mind. No one could make him see different. And it hurt. Him to think he wasn't enough to make him want to stay. How self absorbed that made him sound he didn't care. It hurt him. If it had been the other way around, he'd have changed his mind for Jackson without so much a thought to what he was asking of him. To just be there for the older man would have been enough to fuel his drive to live for him. So why couldn't he see that? Why didn't he want to stick around for his mum, for him?
Aaron's thought then changed to how Jackson was going to achieve his wish because he wasn't going to help him! He couldn't move. He couldn't get his hands on pills, he couldn't tip himself into water and he couldn't chuck himself from a great height. So how? Hazel wouldn't help her son kill himself. No parent would do that. But Jackson had a way with persuading people. He could make you empathize and see things differently and with Hazel being so exhausted from worrying about it all she could agree without thinking. He wasn't with them now, talking since into his ridiculous plans.
He wasn't religious but he hoped and prayed that both Jackson and Hazel would make the right decision. It was eating away inside of him the thought of Jackson being in a box six foot under. A whirlwind of emotions kept clouding his head as he wondered through Whitby, aimlessly. He had no idea where was going and he didn't care. He wasn't paying attention to his surroundings. He needed Jackson. He couldn't even start to explain how much he needed him right now and forever.
Aaron didn't realised he'd made his to the pier until an older man approached him and told him his mobile was ringing in his pocket. He hadn't been paying attention to that either, he hadn't even noticed when it had called the previous eight times. He was too occupied. Looking at his phone screen he had several missed calls from Jackson. He had been wondering around for a couple of hours, so Jackson must have had time to get back to emmer dale and realise he wasn't there. He had a nerve to call him, to act concerned. Why should he bother? It wasn't as if he was going to stick around. He wanted out. Like everyone else in time, he was leaving him. He should be used to it. He should have a defensive system set up for that but he'd broken it down. The mad he cared about had broken it down, left him vulnerable and son on his own.
His phone rang again as he held it in his hand, staring at it blankly. It took a while but he pressed accept and held the phone to his ear. He didn't say a word. He was still angry with him but yet, he wanted to hear his voice so badly.
"Ah, take your time why don't you? Aaron?" Jackson spoke down the line. "Are you still in Whitby or something? Just give us a clue." There was a pause before he continued, waiting for Aaron to speak. "I know you're upset, I know you're angry. Trust me I've got the bruises to prove it."
He already felt bad enough about that already!
"And on the scale of things it as pretty bad but we always make up in the end." Jackson said. "Please I'm worried about you. Will you just come home please . . .? I need you here."
'Need you here,' no he didn't. He didn't need him what he needed was some sense knocked into him. He wanted to die for god's sake! Aaron needed him. He didn't know the full excruciating meaning of the word need. It tore at his heart when he thought how much he needed Jackson. It was beyond need the feeling of something shredding his insides when he thought of the builder.
He ended the call. He couldn't continue to hear anymore of what Jackson had to say. Until he was willing to carry on living what he as dealt, Aaron couldn't be around him for now. He couldn't watch the self-pity eat him up inside and distort any view he had of the world. He couldn't form the words to describe how much e hated what was happening. He was shocked that Jackson didn't hate. Jackson should hate him, should detest every bone in his body. But he didn't. He still loved him morbidly enough. After all the heartache and pain he had caused you would of thought he would have hated him just the slightest. He didn't and that what got to Aaron. Aaron would have had some hatred inside of him towards somebody who had been the main cause of the downfall if he was Jackson. However the old Jackson was still there, unwilling to blame anyone for the accident, remaining admit that it was entirely nobody's fault. It just happened. It just so happened to him. And it just so happened he couldn't deal with it.
Aaron pocketed hi phone and slung his rucksack over his shoulder as he stood. He didn't know what he was doing, where he was going. It was cold, really cold. He was shivering in the sea air, losing in his thoughts he hadn't realised how cold it had really gotten. Rubbing his hands together for warmth he set off to search for some where warm. He hadn't thought of where he would stay. He didn't really care right then. He could quite easily head back to emmer dale. It would be the more logical idea. But Jackson and Hazel were there and he needed space. He couldn't get back in the stage he was in. Needing a decent drink, Aaron headed to a nearby pub.
It wasn't like the woolpack, far from it. Empty of the gossiping old women and Diane at the bar, the pub was quiet and a little bare. Only a couple of men stood at the bar and a handful at a side table. A woman at the bar took his order and served him before he took his pint to the side. He sat in the corner, supping on his cold beer as he once more lapsed into thought. He couldn't help it. Too much was going on. He was surprised he was coping with all what was whizzing through his head. He would usually have lost his head but he'd remained calm . . . err. He went back into thinking that it was his fault again.
Stupid him, stupid him for calling him. Stupid him for making him stop the van, for arguing, for bringing up Mickey. Stupid him for not saying 'I love you' and for starting the stupid feud with Mickey in the first place. He could go on. He had lots to blame on himself. But it wasn't going to change things. He knew a lot of it had to do with him not saying 'I love you'. How could he say it when everyone he loved walked out in the end? Jackson hadn't understood on the side of the road. He had loved him. Still did. But he didn't know what it felt like. He didn't know he did. He was full of this bursting emotion that made him want to scream with happiness at one moment, then tear at his insides the next. It was confusing, unnatural, and alien to him. He was still figuring out the unknown feeling. He'd felt it before but he had learnt to switch it off and with good reason too.
Now he would scream, yell, shout his name from the rooftops and declare his love for him if it meant he would stay. He knew own what it was. He was in love. He was happy he'd learnt to love. Aaron was glad Jackson had taught him how to love again. However it was cruel. He wished he hadn't shown how to love sometimes. He couldn't cope with the heavy weight punching into his stomach and the butterflies bursting out of his chest, the overdrive of worry muddling his brain. It was too much. He understood why he had switched it off. It was somewhat easier. Bearable.
He couldn't switch the emotion off, even if he did really want to. He loved him and their was nothing he do about it. Head over heels in love with Jackson Walsh. And no way was he going to let Jackson kill himself; he wasn't going to give up on him. He was depressed and clearly not thinking. Aaron was going to make sure he didn't do anything, just like he would if was in his position and how he wished he could swap.
He downed the rest of his pint, grimacing as the now room temperature liquid slid down his throat. He'd been there a while but no longer was he going to sit around and think. He was going to work out a plan. Jackson was going to live! He didn't care how. He was going to help him live. He was going to save him.