Useless
By Boasamishipper
Aaron had a new entry on the list of how many times he felt useless. At this rate he was going to run out of paper. Part Four in the 'Am I Needed?' verse. Aaron's thoughts during 1.15. You guys know the drill.
Aaron set down a plate of food as Rachel poured over Dr. Warren's journal for what seemed like the millionth time that minute. He felt like he had to say something to snap Rachel out of her reverie. "Is, uh-" He cleared his throat. "Dr. Warren's little diary making any sense?"
"It's kind of like…" Rachel hesitated. "Da Vinci on meth."
Aaron smiled, remembering his days as the Wizard of Google.
"It's gonna take me a while to translate." Rachel continued.
"Well, maybe I can help." Aaron offered, feeling the Wizard of Google rising up inside of him. Finally, something useful for him to do. Something involving hard drives and CAD coding. He felt his chest swelling with pride until…
"Maybe you should get more supplies." Rachel suggested, but it didn't sound like a suggestion. Aaron's happiness popped like a soap bubble. Does she think I'm not needed either?
"Right." Aaron said casually, standing up from the table. He saw Rachel's lips moving as she read more of the Da Vinci Code on steroids. As he made a move to walk away, he found his lips moving: "Two doctorates from MIT, but…I'll just go shopping."
Rachel nodded from behind him, and Aaron thought she was going to start laughing. Wouldn't be the first time.
As he walked through the many shops in the Plains Nation, Aaron's loneliness intensified. Here he was, one of the last computer geeks in America, with decoding needing to be done, and he was going shopping. It was like an iPhone without AT&T, a wallet with no credit cards: lacking a purpose. He'd thought that since there was work to be done, Rachel would need him. But here he was, doing window-shopping.
He could practically hear the laughter from God.
Aaron, a man who doesn't love shopping doesn't love women, he could hear Priscilla saying.
He was suddenly overcome with memories of his wife. Priscilla laughing, smiling at his jokes. Her in short dresses at parties. Priscilla Pittman, the wife of the Wizard of Google. The same one he'd abandoned for her own good. He wondered if she and Sean were getting cozy somewhere. He wondered if she'd forgotten about him.
If thoughts could kill, Aaron thought as he walked towards a lady who was selling 'fine leather', then I'm a martyr.
"Fine leather, very fine leather. Made from a vintage Gucci coat!" The vender wheedled in a strong Southern accent. Aaron shook his head no, smiled, and kept walking, wondering what she had done before the Blackout. Possibly nothing, the vender looked young enough to be in college.
Voices swirled around him like snow, this-a-way and that-a-way as venders and customers haggled over prices. Aaron stopped at a food vender's cart, wondering if Rachel would want some deer meat.
And then Aaron froze. Priscilla stood on the other end of the courtyard, looking around.
Aaron hyperventilated. "You're the only one for me." He remembered her saying. Aaron gasped.
He walked towards her, but a crowd of people got in his way and he pushed them aside. But Priscilla was gone already. Had he imagined her? No. Not possible. He wasn't about to lose her again.
"Priscilla." He yelled, walking around. "Priscilla?"
No response. Just a bunch of curious onlookers, but he didn't care. There was only one person he needed right now and that was Priscilla.
"Priscilla!"
(*) (*)
"Aaron." Rachel tried to reason with him. "You've been looking for hours. Are you sure it was her? Maybe she was someone else?"
Aaron fixated her with such a look that Rachel actually backed up. "You think I don't know my own wife?"
"Aaron, it's been a long time. Are you sure you didn't imagine it?"
"I'm not imagining it. I am not leaving here until I…"
The rest of his words faded, like an adult in a Charlie Brown cartoon. Priscilla was sitting on a barstool, drinking a beer.
Aaron made his way towards her, Rachel protesting from behind him.
"Priscilla?" Aaron mumbled it so quietly he wanted to slap himself across the face. But he was nervous, extremely so. What if Priscilla didn't recognize him? He definitely knew that, all social graces aside, it would not be a good thing to puke all over her.
Priscilla turned around and spotted him. A look of awe, fear, and then blasé went over her. "Oh. Aaron."
"Hi." Aaron said lamely.
"Hi." Priscilla said.
"What're you doing here?"
"I could ask you the same thing." The guy next to her put his glass down hard. "The group-we needed a change of scenery." Priscilla said.
"Priscilla, I-we?" Aaron looked at the guy sitting next to her. "Who's he?"
"Uh, Steve, this is Aaron. He's an old friend. Aaron, this is Steve. He's my husband."
If this was what dying felt like, Aaron didn't mind it. But his heart had officially cracked into two pieces. Priscilla had gotten remarried? To this piece of shit? What did he have that Aaron didn't?
Well, to begin with, he didn't abandon her. A reasonable voice in his head stated.
Shut it, you. He thought furiously.
"You, uh-you married-" Aaron knew he looked ridiculous and sounded ridiculous, but this was a serious matter.
He felt Rachel come up behind him.
"Hi…I'm Rachel. I'm a friend of Aaron's. He's told me a lot about you."
His wife nodded wearily. "It was good seeing you, Aaron." Priscilla said dismissively.
"Can we-" Aaron paused and licked his lips. "Is there some place we can talk…outside? For a few minutes?"
"No." Priscilla said, his Priscilla. The one he'd courted for ten years, the beautiful woman who'd accepted him against all odds, the woman who'd thought of him as a trophy husband. But here she was, refusing even to talk to him. His heart felt like it had been run over by a semi.
"Take care of yourself." Priscilla said before looking away.
Rachel gently tugged Aaron away. "She wants you to leave." Rachel hissed. And Aaron knew, his mind just couldn't comprehend it. There had to be another reason. Sure, he'd been dumped a million times before. But this was Priscilla. There had to be something behind her actions. She'd never treated him like that.
Aaron, although his feet felt like leaden weights, walked away.
(*) (*)
"Look." Rachel said gently later that evening. Aaron was seated near a fire, but he'd never felt more cold. "We should leave. Where we're going, she's better off without you."
"You're right, she's better off with that dick-"
"Look, I get it. You think that you'll…apologize, and everything will be okay. It doesn't work like that."
Aaron sighed. "You don't know her like I do. Something wasn't right. I won't just- I'm not leaving her again." And before Rachel could put her two cents in, Aaron stood up and went to look for Priscilla, who was hopefully away from that dickhead Steve.
After walking a while, Aaron almost began to give up until he heard a grunt and someone being thrown. Aaron whirled around. Priscilla was tossed into a wagon by Steve the Dick.
Aaron walked towards Priscilla, who stared at him like he was the Ghost of Christmas Past. "Aaron. Just go."
"Priscilla, what is this? That is not your husband. What's going on?"
"Aaron, get out of here-"
"Hey!" Steve shouted. "She's a fugitive, pal."
Aaron stared uncomprehendingly at Steve.
"Go." Steve said, pushing Aaron away. "Just get the hell out of here."
"Okay," Aaron said, backing up. "Okay."
But even as he walked, he couldn't get the image of Priscilla, tied up in the back of Steve the Dick's wagon, heading off to a labor camp somewhere. He'd already left her once before. He was NEVER going to go through that again. And neither would she.
Aaron whirled around. Priscilla stared with wide eyes as he charged Steve the Dick like a football player and tackled him to the ground. Aaron grunted as he punched Steve in the face before pausing a split second. Pausing was his mistake. Steve pummeled Aaron until he was gasping for breath. Just when Aaron started coughing up blood, Steve collapsed, bleeding from his skull. Aaron looked up. Priscilla loomed over Steve with a pipe in her hand and an angry expression on her face.
Even though Aaron felt useless, he felt a swarm of elation. She did care.
Five minutes later, they were sitting near a fire pit. Aaron gently dabbed the blood on her forehead.
"Priscilla, what did he mean…that you were a fugitive?"
"I have a bounty from the Monroe Republic."
"What happened?"
"I stabbed a piece of shit sergeant. He tried to hurt…someone I care about."
There was a long silence in which Aaron gathered his thoughts.
"Priscilla, I need to say this-"
"No, Aaron, you don't."
"I am sorry." He hissed. "I never should've left you, I thought I was going to get you killed."
"Aaron, please-"
"I was trying to protect you-"
"Protecting me?" Priscilla said shrilly. "Everyone you left me with–they died. I was alone, Aaron."
"I wish I could take it back." Aaron said, feeling worse than ever. Aaron had a new entry on the list of how many times he felt useless. At this rate he was going to run out of paper.
"It's okay." Priscilla sighed. "Look–it's okay. You turned out alright."
"Come with us."
"I can't."
"Then I'll come with you." Aaron said firmly. He wasn't leaving his wife again.
"Aaron, I have a family." Priscilla choked out, tears leaking down her face. "That sergeant I stabbed? He was coming after my daughter. She's eleven."
"Is she okay?" Aaron immediately asked.
"She's fine." Priscilla said in relief. "My family–they made it to Texas. They're, uh, they're waiting for me."
Their faces were so close that Aaron felt an urge to kiss her. But no. They couldn't do that anymore. "Then you have to go back to them."
Priscilla's mouth opened and closed. She took Aaron's face in her hands. "I want you to know that I love you, Aaron. I always will."
Always? Then why aren't we together?
…
I left you.
Priscilla kissed him on the lips before he could react and pulled away quickly. Aaron sniffled.
"Don't worry about me anymore, okay?" Priscilla stood up. "Bye."
"Priscilla." Aaron said her name like a lifeline, like a religion, but he couldn't find the words to continue.
Priscilla smiled sadly. But this time, it was her who walked away from their relationship.
Aaron's heart felt numb and cold. Priscilla was gone. Maggie was dead. Was there anyone else in this world who still loved him?
He felt Rachel's hand on his shoulder. "Come on." She said gently.
"I'm coming." Aaron picked up his backpack and followed Rachel out of the Plains Nation. "I'm coming."
Sorry for the sucky conclusion, but here we are. I hope you enjoyed this fic enough to leave a review! *makes puppy-dog eyes* Review, but gently.
Until next time,
-Boa