A/N 1: Oneshot I was inspired to write following this week's eps and following some hardcore tweeting with danglinghearts

A/N 3: Huge gratitude to brencon and shemmelle for being lovely betas.

A/N 3: PS There is a soundtrack of sorts - Time to Decide by The Blizzards .com/watch?v=FJMVsY2YWlQ

The Necklace

His head was such a jumbled mess – more so than usual. He kept flashing back to what he saw, what he heard and what he imagined but always, always, he came back to Jackson – a broken mess in a crumpled van. It had been the longest and yet the most blurred night of his life as he waited for news and then, when the doctor finally came to talk to them, wishing he'd been left in the dark. And, all the time, the images kept playing themselves in his mind, over and over. And the sounds he would never forget. Every so often he just had to shake his head to try and... he just didn't know what.

It had been three days now and he'd stuck to his promise to Jerry, even though he died a bit more each minute, each hour he was away from Jackson. Paddy kept him updated and Hazel kept on calling him and calling him, just pleading with him to come and sit with Jackson, speak to him, anything that might help Jackson to wake up. Well that's what all the messages said. He couldn't bring himself to answer any time her name flashed up on his phone.

If this was his punishment then it wasn't nearly severe enough. He'd meant what he said – he'd do anything to make Jackson better. To make this all go away. At least Jerry was in full agreement that this was wall his fault. If Jerry had told him to go barricade himself into the garage with a car engine running again he wouldn't even hesitate.

He pretended that he didn't see everyone in the village staring at him or offering him support and sympathy. Whenever any member of his family or Pearl tried to get through to him he just blanked them, his face a mask. OK, his eyes were swollen and bloodshot and he knew there was no way he was fooling anyone with his hard man posturing but they all knew to leave it. He kept his tears a private thing between him and Paddy. He didn't even bother pretending with him. He just had to look into Paddy's concerned face and he crumbled. At that point, Paddy just scooped him into his arms and held him until he was spent, exhausted. Twice now he's woken up in the early hours still wrapped in Paddy's arms on the sofa and it made him ill. He didn't deserve such comfort, love or protection.

And then there was Chas. He'd meant what he'd said to Paddy at the hospital. He didn't want her there fussing over him, flapping, playing the mother hen, doing his head in. Even from Lanzarote she was sticking her oar in where it wasn't wanted as usual. When she wasn't texting and ringing him it was Paddy or Cain and even Carl, getting them to check up on him. At least Cain left him alone. It may have been Saturday but with one thing and another they were seriously behind at the garage. Cain had simply pointed him in the direction of that old banger Andy had towed in the other day, telling him it didn't matter how badly he stuffed up such a heap of junk.

He'd been staring at the battery for god knows how long when he was brought back to attention by a cough behind him and the sound of feet shuffling on the gravel of the forecourt.

"Good luck getting any sense out of him, Bob. He's been posing like a statue under that bonnet for half the day. Good job I'm not the one paying the bill for that service."

Aaron actually straightened and turned and leaned against the front of the car at that. "What do you want?" he signed in resignation. He just couldn't be bothered anymore.

"You all right?" Bob asked in his usual annoying tones. Aaron knew he shouldn't think like that. Bob had been great at the hospital and afterwards picking up clothes for Hazel, offering Aaron lifts to the hospital. "Sorry to disturb you when you're working. It's just that Hazel asked me to pop round because she couldn't get hold of you."

Cain didn't even pretend to be busy as he wandered over to hover behind Bob's right shoulder, wiping his hands on an old rag. Aaron spared a second to ponder whether he was there to defend him if it proved necessary, to snoop or to protect Bob if he went off on one. Why couldn't everyone see that he didn't care. The only thing, the only person he cared for was lying in a hospital bed 10 miles away, fighting for his life.

He took a deep breath as a precaution in case the tears came again, "Yeah, I've been busy here." Cain was rolling his eyes. "What's Hazel want?"

Bob fidgeted again, "Right, well, the police have been round and given Hazel some of Jackson's stuff from the van – sunglasses and things like that. They've kept his phone though for their investigation."

Aaron visibly gulped and nodded his head slowly. Soon there'd be proof that he was to blame. It almost felt like a vindication. "Anyway," Bob continued, "She's been through the stuff the hospital gave her and the things from the van and Jackson's necklace isn't there. She says he's never without it but she wanted to check with you if he was wearing it that night? I've asked Paddy and he can't remember and Andy's checked Dale View and nothing but he's got Victoria onto it to be sure."

"Why would Vic know?" Despite everything, Aaron felt his green-eyed monster stir. Even in his apathetic state he knew it was ridiculous. She was Andy's sister. Of course she was bound to have been in and out of the house.

"Apparently there was a... a gathering of sorts in the cottage that night – Victoria, Hannah and a few others. Victoria swears no one would take it but she's going to check if they saw it. But I just wanted, well Hazel wanted me to ask if you remembered if Jackson was wearing the chain? She's really upset. Apparently she bought it for Jackson's 18th and he's worn it ever since."

Aaron paused and thought hard. Back on holiday Jackson had been really shirty about making sure his necklace was safe every time he took it off when he went for a swim but when he thought back to Wednesday night all he could remember was the sound of brakes locking, wheels spinning. The sickening crunch as the train decimated Jackson's van. And the sight of so much blood pouring from the gashes all over Jackson's face. Waiting for the ambulance, Aaron could have sworn that Jackson was actually crying tears of blood.

He snapped himself out of it again. Agitated now, he rubbed his hand over his head and chin as he began to pace. He looked up at Bob, stricken, "I, I don't know. I can't remember. It's just... Tell Hazel I'm so sorry." They all knew he meant that he was sorry of everything.

The three stood around awkwardly for a few minutes until Cain spoke up, "Why don't you check with Declan? Jackson was in his gaff that day, wasn't he Aaron? Charity told me."

"Good idea," said Bob, obviously glad of any excuse to leave. Aaron had, by now, turned back to the beat-up Polo, pretending to examine the engine once more, pretending not to notice Cain walking down to the main road with Bob and Charity joining them, pretending not to know they were talking about him and Jackson and the crash.

He couldn't help his thoughts retreating back again. Imagining what could have happened if he'd actually said it – those three little words that even now he had trouble formulating. But that was the problem, wasn't it? Even when he was trying so desperately to get hold of Jackson, willing him to pick up the phone as he drove away, he didn't really know what he would say to him but he was pretty sure it wouldn't have been 'I love you'. Jackson had said that he'd know when he'd love someone and he was right, but Aaron could only admit the truth fully as he waited by the van for the ambulance to arrive while he'd pleaded with Jackson to live, to not leave him and yet he still couldn't say it out loud. That had only happened at the hospital, to Paddy, and only after hours of talking around the issue.

He jerked suddenly, banging his head off the bonnet but that didn't matter. Charity, Cain and Bob looked up from their conversation and towards him. The photo! He'd gotten Jackson to take a picture of the two of them in Bar West before everything had kicked off. He pulled out his own phone, now relieved beyond belief that he hadn't caved to his first impulse of smashing it to bits and setting them on fire. It was an ancient model with a crap camera and terrible resolution but it was actually the last Christmas present his dad had bought him and for that reason he was attached to it, not that he'd tell anyone. He'd even taken Jackson's teasing good naturedly and now it held a visual reminder of his last good memory with Jackson.

He squinted at the screen and exclaimed when he saw the line of the chain around Jackson's neck. He ran towards them waving the phone in Bob's face. "It's here! Tell her he was wearing it!" It may not have been much but it felt good to do something to help Hazel; until Cain burst his bubble.

"Then where is it now? Cos it's not at the hospital and wasn't in the van and I doubt very much that Hotton's finest have pocketed it."

Aaron faltered. Cain was right. Some help he was, he'd just confirmed that Jackson's necklace was gone; probably flattened by several tons of train. Charity spoke up, a look of such pity on her face that, under any other circumstances, would have led to Aaron lashing out. "What if it came off during the crash? You know, with all that bashing about?" Aaron saw her catch her words, for once censoring what she was about to say. She smiled at him and continued, "Sorry love, it's just that there's always a chance that it fell off. You should go look for it. Cain will loan you his car, won't you?" She turned and glared at Cain, broking no argument.

Cain grudgingly handed the keys over, all the while glaring at Aaron. "Don't drive too fast and don't damage it. There's a torch in the boot – shine it on the ground to help you find that chain." As Aaron took off towards the level crossing, a place he unfortunately could not avoid as long as he lived in the village, Cain added a final rejoinder, "And don't even think about using your phone while driving." He missed the slap Charity landed on Cain for that comment.

It hadn't occurred to him that the crossing would have opened again. As he arrived a freight train trundled past. He felt bile rise in his throat but swallowed it back down. He drove to the Hotton side of the crossing and parked up by the gate that Jackson had crashed through, police incident tape still fluttering from what remained.

It was easy to follow the marks the van had left the short distance to the verge that separated the field from the rail tracks. It was ridiculous really – the tracks were pretty much at the same height as the field yet the van had flipped and Jackson and...

Aaron shook his head and wiped away the tears. They wouldn't help him as he searched for Jackson's necklace. And it would be harder here with all the loose gravel coupled with the glass and shards of metal from the van. He took a deep breath to steady himself and began to shine to torch on the ground as he crouched and commenced his search in earnest.

He'd been looking for around 30 minutes and two trains had passed him, horns blaring, warning him of the dangers of loitering round the tracks. He knew he didn't have much time – the drivers were bound to have reported him. By now he was almost at the decimated stacks of pallets the van had ended up buried in. His hands were filthy and covered in cuts and grazes from sifting through the glass hewn gravel. What did a few splinters matter? He closed his eyes. It wasn't hard to remember the scene from that night – where the van had come to rest; what pallets the firemen had shifted to get to Jackson; the spot he'd stood throughout the process not answering the questions the police threw at him.

He noticed the high-visibility police jackets approaching him but didn't stop what he was doing. It was only when a hand gripped onto his shoulder and a female voice called his name that he paused.

"Mr Livesy. Aaron!" He looked up. It was the female sergeant from Wednesday. He remembered her more from the hospital than from out here. "I thought it might be you when we got the call. What are you doing?" She asked quite kindly.

Aaron was a Dingle. And he was Aaron. His first instinct around police would always be to lash out but there was something about her tone and expression that actually gave him pause and actually briefly explain to her what he was doing and why.

"Look, technically you're trespassing and its dangerous here..."

"Please!" Aaron entreated. Even if they arrested him he was determined to search until he found Jackson's necklace. Maybe she realised this.

"Five minutes more, then we escort you off the tracks, you understand me?" With that she pulled the torch out of her utility belt and began to help him while entreating the PC with her to "Feel free to join in and help PC Ashton".

It didn't take long for the PC to cry out "Found it!" and hand the chain to his sergeant. She examined it closely.

"We should take this the station and log it formally before we return it to Mr Walsh's next of kin. However, that seems like a load of paperwork at the end of the shift. I'm giving this to you on the proviso that you will be returning this to Ms Rhodes. My colleagues have informed me about you and your family but I do think you're being honest with me. I really do hope that everything works out for the two of you."

As she and the PC began the walk back to their car Aaron sat down on the stack of pallets where he perched on Wednesday night and wept.

The End.