Set after the court case, which I'm pretty confident Aaron will be found 'not guilty'. I hope you like this story, it's a bit of a different writing style for me and took me ages because I was quite unsure of myself. I'd really appreciate some feedback.

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In truth she doesn't know how he's managed it, how in his short life he's got to this point and at times it's incomprehensible. Of cause she blames a lot of it on herself although she can't decipher exactly what or work out which portions to take ownership for, she's not sure you can put a percentage on it and isn't sure there's an equation to figure it out. All she knows is that when a son says his first words it should be 'mother', when a son falls over he should turn to his Mother and when a son does well he should be congratulated by his mother. But he never had this, so she thinks that taking a large percentage of the blame can't be wrong – because when a son is without his mother for much of his young life this certainly cannot be good.

When her son said his first word she wasn't there to hear it, when her son fell over she was out working, when her son did well she had moved out, living a separate life, barely seeing him. How much of this has created the son as he is now?

When he was very little he was scared of everything – he'd cling to her, wrap his arms around her neck, dig his small fingers into her skin and cry whenever she left him. He did this a lot until he realised it didn't make any difference, that it didn't matter how much he sobbed because she was not a women with natural maternal instincts.

Chastity swallows hard; sometimes 19 years of regret are hard to digest.

Gently before she realises an arm is reaching around her to gently turn off the tap, it's Lisa and her sad eyes are looking with understanding and reassurance, the bowl in Chastity's hand is over flown and the water gently sloshes over the sides as it's barely contained.

"You're in a world of your own there."

Chastity smiles at Lisa but it's frail, "sorry."

"You ok?"

It doesn't matter how she is.

"He's still really drunk."

Alcohol, it's the family symbol of the Dingles, if a crest was to be designed a large can of larger would sit firmly central and proudly. They all drink it, all turn to it – she even makes a living from it – lost her father to it, so why would her son be any different? Curled up on the floor on the grounds of home farm – a large empty bottle of vodka his companion –barely aware of his surroundings, Sam found him and for the briefest of moments thought he was dead.

"He's been sick; I need to get him cleaned up."

Lisa clasps Chastity's arm, "It will be ok."

She desperately hopes that Lisa is correct. Eventually Chastity thinks something will have to give, they've done this a lot, picked him up, carried him home. At first it was from the grave side, not every night but still enough for the pang of concern to twist in her stomach, Ashley would call her or Paddy or Cain and they'd gather him up. He'd never say anything to anyone, just allow himself to be taken. He was completely without fight, her son never got angry anymore, it didn't have the ability to produce that emotion instead he'd lie wherever they placed him ready to start over again.

Eventually, almost constantly someone had to sit with her son, to take care of him, to watch him being consumed by guilt. How long does it take to be eaten alive?

She'd argue that perhaps he wasn't alive and the son would no doubt back her up, possibly even present evidence because this wasn't living –this was merely existed.

For some reason her son changed his destination and wasn't lying amongst the grave stones. Everyone panicked, at least by the graveside they could watch him and sit with him even whilst he consumed drink after drink. But when he couldn't be found there no one knew what to do, especially when he went missing for a day.

Frantic everyone had been looking for him - thank god for Sam.

In the living room of Wishing Well Cottage his is propped up on the couch, he is boneless and doesn't attempt to support his own weight, Paddy has him firmly gripped and his speaking to him but he doesn't respond.

"Here."

By her side Zak hands her an old shirt and whilst she's grateful she also feels angry, why won't her son see how much they care for him? Why does he insist on doing this alone? But the knowledge to this question burns in the back of her mind. Because this son has never grown up knowing that comfort – how do you undo a life time of old tricks, how do you retrain someone against and ingrained method of coping?

She has regrets – yeah too many.

Carefully Paddy pulls him forward as she reaches for his soiled clothing, her son does nothing, he just stares through watery eyes. He is mostly naked now and were it not for the intense concern felt in the room, Lisa, Zack, Sam and Cain would have allowed him privacy, instead they watch holding their breaths and the worry blocking any other emotion.

"We're just going to get you cleaned up a bit," starts Chastity, she is gently wiping down his arms and face.

Her son doesn't respond.

"Aaron?"

Her son stares at them, she then watches him close his eyes unconcerned.

She had done this before, cleaning him when he was a baby, but these bonding moments were too few and far between, she suddenly feels nauseous and wants to run away. Why did her son not trust her enough to allow her to help him? If she'd loved him more would he have turned to her when faced with helping Jackson?

Once cleaned up Chastity takes a step back, her son looks better now but still intoxicated, Paddy continues to support his weight and her sons head lulls around weakly. A glass of water his placed in her hands and she approaches her son again.

"Here Aaron you need this."

She crouches in front and rests the glass to his lips; her son makes no attempt to drink.

"Just a little bit please."

Her son mutters something inaudible.

"What did you say?"

He licks his lips and takes a big breath, gathering the energy to speak.

"You should pour it down my neck."

She feels confused, unsure.

"Just take a sip."

"I've done it."

Chastity looks questioningly.

"I don't understand, son?"

Again her son mutters before raising his voice.

"He choked, when it went down."

"Who?"

"Jackson – I forced the drink down his neck and he chocked."

She rockets back in shock, distancing herself from her son words, she knows the details, heard them in court, still vividly remembers listening as both her son and Hazel spoke about these events and they will forever haunt her. Since then she has heard her son re-live it every day but it still leaves her breathless.

Paddy wraps his arms around her son, holding him firmly.

"You didn't force anything Aaron – you know this."

Paddy should have been Aaron's dad, this is so clear to her. She's always known it but in these instances the knowledge hits her like a slap in the face. With Paddy her son has always known he was loved.

"You weren't there, I know what I did."

He is slurring his words uncontrollably.

"Everybody needs to know what I did."

She watches Paddy squeeze her son tighter.

"Everybody does know, its ok."

Her son grips Paddy closely, his breathing gets shallower and his fingers dig into Paddy's arms, just as they did with her when he was very young. For a moment she's back there and she's being a good mother and she's erasing her son's negative future.

"It's ok."

Paddy's words are no reassurance; the guilt has taken away everything her young son is.

Giddily she stands up from her crouched position, rubes at her forehead and breathes out a shaky breath.

"We should get him home."

Lisa and Zak are straight by her, showing the reassuring strength.

"Maybe it's best he stay here and sleep it off –there's a spare bed upstairs."

"Thanks but Belle and Sampson shouldn't see this."

Zak's heavy hand is placed on her shoulder.

"They'll see family looking after one of their own."

She smiles at him, relieved that she is still able to.

Cain, silent up until this point moves forward, he gives her a comforting look. He's someone else that seems to cope better with parenthood than she ever did.

"Come on lad, let's sort you out."

He crouches down to bundle Aaron up in his arms and Paddy offers token help but it's not needed, her son has lost so much weight and it seems effortless to Cain.

Her son doesn't resist.

"You shouldn't be nice to be me."

Cain shushes him, it's lovely and kind and an alarming display of concern from her brother, and this is how desperate the situation is.

Chastity watches her brother and Paddy take her son up the stairs, she holds her breath until they leave her sight. Lisa clasps her hands on Chastity's arms.

"It's going to be alright."

Chastity snorts, "how?"

Lisa's kind face fills her vision.

"We're all in this together."

"I wish Aaron knew this."

Cain quietly comes down the steps, he's paused halfway.

"Chas, Aaron wants to talk to you."

Once in the bedroom, she sees her son propped up on the bed against the wall, the alcohol seemed worn off slightly, he's able to support himself. Her son is looking at the three of them and they share a concerned glances, he is wobbling around like a new born deer.

"I'm going to go away."

Chastity shakes her head, unsure of her son's words.

"Where?"

"Just away."

His speech is still slurred and he's looking to the floor.

She feels alarm spreading through her limbs and the panicky adrenalin makes her feel light headed. In truth this is all her doing.

Paddy quickly and confidently steps in, she envy's his skills.

"We can talk about it when you wake up."

Her son's head sways.

"I won't change my mind."

She tries to stay calm, tries applying the natural motherly instincts that she should possess.

"But then you won't be able to visit Jackson."

She sees that bloody headstone as an anchor.

Her son blinks slowly and for a moment she thinks he's actually closing his eyes.

"Not going back there."

"Why?"

"I don't love him."

Paddy's crouched low and Cain's hands are stuffed deep into his pockets, she feels as if the tension could split in two.

"Yes you do."

Paddy again, speaking assertively.

Her son rocks his head; she watches his eyes go thick with tears.

"I never loved him."

"Yes you did."

Her son starts to tremble, tears slide down from his barely focused eyes.

"How can you murder someone that you love? I couldn't have loved him."

He pauses, looking as though he's going to be sick.

"I couldn't have loved him."

In truth she should have pulled him close and wrapped her arms tightly around him, but she merely stood and wept and shook.

The End