Paddy smiled at Sarah as he weaved his way past her, through the door. Unusually, she'd given him a strained smile and not checked with Jackson that it was ok if he entered. The answer had never been no anyway, it was always just about respecting Jackson's privacy. Jackson was not where Paddy expected. Usually, when at home, he could be found in the living room. He'd be glued to his computer, his eyes rapidly scanning the screen and speaking decisive annotations. The house was never silent, unlike now. Paddy felt that there was a horrible tension curling its way up the walls. It seemed to inhabit Sarah as well. He looked closely at the woman and noted how much paler her fair skin was, which, against her red hair, was alarming. She looked exhausted. "Sarah, are you ok?" He'd only known her for six months but, in that time, they'd become friendly. The nature of Jackson's condition meant she was around a lot.

Jackson was like family, just as much as Aaron, and the conversation with Adam earlier had made Paddy realise that he'd not managed to see Jackson since Aaron's return. Now, it seemed that there was a very real chance that the two of them would be getting back together and Paddy wanted to minimise any fuss this would create. He wasn't sure how he felt about it personally. They were grown men, it was their decision and this was all that mattered, despite Chastity's no doubt contrary opinion.

Sarah wrapped a hand around her neck and looked nervously stressed: "Yeah, I'm fine." Her response was contained in a laugh. It caused Paddy to squint. "What's going on, where's Jackson?" He watched her hop minutely from foot to foot, barely lifting them from the ground. It caused more of a rocking motion than any actually jumping. She scratched rapidly at her head. "He's upstairs. I didn't know what to do."

Alarm spiked, "What's wrong with him?"

"He won't let me get him up. He'd been lying there since this morning. He just keeps crying."

"Crying?"

She licked her lips. It told him that she wasn't going to say anymore. Her eyes also silently begged that he go upstairs. He wasn't restrained by any carer/patient impartiality. If he wanted to march up there and demand to see Jackson, then that was up to him. "I'll go and talk to him." The relief tumbled from her and her shoulders wilted to the floor, she mouthed a silent 'Thanks.'

Paddy rapped gently on Jackson's bedroom door. He waited for an answer and when silence greeted him, he called out Jackson's name. There was still no response, but Paddy could tell that Jackson was awake. There were several soft sniffs. "Jackson?" He heard something, a soft movement against a pillow. Paddy pushed at the door, he peered his head around slowly and then opened it fully. Jackson was sitting up in bed; his duvet had dropped down, exposing his torso. He appeared tiny. It had been a long time since Paddy had seen Jackson naked. It was years ago, before Aaron left and they were having trouble with the hoist in the downstairs wet room. Jackson's modesty had been covered by his towel but the rest of him was exposed. Back then, he'd been in a wheelchair for only a year. It meant the physical repercussions weren't showing extremely. He still held much of his weight and there was still a small amount of muscle. That had been seven or eight years ago. The body in front of him now was vastly different. His skin seemed to fold around Jackson's skeleton, and his arms were two narrow branches, like winter silhouettes against the night sky.

"What's going on?" Jackson's eyes were red and raw, his cheeks were puffy. It startled Paddy. "Jackson, what's wrong?" He was perfectly still, as if any movement would shatter his entire frame. "I'm fine, Paddy."

"You don't look it." Jackson scrunched his eyes up tightly and pressed his head into the pillow. "I just have a headache."

"A headache?"

"Yeah."

"Why have you been crying?"

"I haven't." It was said with as much conviction as a cat denying it had been hunting, whilst returning with a bird in its mouth. Paddy cocked his head, "I know I might look like a fool…" Not even a small smile jumped to Jackson's lips.

"Paddy, I want to be on my own."

"Apparently you've done that all day."

Jackson snorted, it was the first spark Paddy had witnessed in him. "Sarah had no right calling you."

"She didn't. I just wanted to see you. We've not spoken since Aaron's come back. I wanted to check you were alright." He didn't miss the recoiled look of horror that Jackson barely concealed. It spoke volumes. He was just going to come right out and say it, there was no point beating around the bush. "Is there something going on with you and Aaron?"

Jackson swallowed, something that seemed difficult, tears sprung to his eyes. "No."

Paddy took a step closer. "That's not what Adam tells me." He watched Jackson bite down on his lip and noticed that this wasn't the first time. Jackson's bottom lip was swollen, and bruised, with streaks of dried crimson decorating it. "No, don't worry. Nothing is going on."

"I'm not worried."

"Yeah, right."

He sat down on the edge of Jackson's bed. "I just want you both to be happy."

"Well, I can't speak for Aaron, but I'm fine."

It was eight p.m. and Cain wasn't entirely sure what he was seeing. Zak was walking next to him, the two of them lazily making their way to the pub from Tug Ghyll cottage. The sky was still lit, the trees still covering the ground with their intense shadows, the darkness only just beginning to descend. Ahead of them was a bit of a commotion. It was really a small disturbance. It was being caused by Aaron. Zak seemed to twig the moment Cain did and the two of them sped up. Aaron was clambering from a car, his inelegant limbs flailing around as if he were drowning. Another man was standing by the open door, demanding that he get out. As they approached, they could hear threats about phone calls to the police.

"What's going on?" The other guy spun round, he was a skinny, wiry man with an angry face. He scowled at Cain. It was unsure if he meant to be menacing; this could just be his natural default setting. "This bloke here called a taxi, but there's no way I'm driving him anywhere in that state!" Cain looked at Aaron, there was no mistaking that he was drunk. He immediately saw the way his eyes glazed over and how his body had sunk against the car. He wasn't trying to get up, more slide out, his body moulding to the vehicle. It reminded him of larking around and being dragged down the stairs by his legs as a child.

"Aaron, what are you doing?" Zak asked. He moved past the taxi driver and reached down to grab him by the arms and lift him up. The task wasn't easy and Aaron wasn't even attempting to use any bones. Zak got him into a standing position, only for his knees to buckle. He was a giant paper fan, collapsing into a series of folds. "I've got a flight to catch," Aaron said. His head lulled around as if it was a marble released into a bowl and his eyes darted frantically, not focusing on anything.

"A flight?" Aaron hiccupped and scraped the back of his hand across his mouth, "Yeah." The taxi man looked between him and Zak, "You know him?"

"We're related." The man nodded at the reply and then shifted uncomfortably, like a waiter who hated asking for payment of a bill. "So, you guys will look after him then?" Cain frowned. He hadn't realised that taxi drivers were meant to take responsibility for drunken idiots who tried to climb into their cars. Or maybe this guy just thought it was morally wrong to dump him at the side of the road. "Yeah, no worries. We'll take him home. Sorry about him." Cain grabbed at Aaron's arm and he and Zak pulled him over to the wall separating the gardens from the street. Aaron's eyes followed the car as it drove away. He looked up at Cain, surprised and started, rolling his shoulder around to loosen his grip. "I needed that taxi."

"Why?"

"I need to get to the airport." It was said exasperatedly, as if he'd been asked over and over for the last hour. Aaron's shoulder rolls got more exaggerated, but Cain wasn't releasing him, he suspected that Aaron would topple backwards if he did.

"A flight to where?" asked Zak.

"Dubai." Aaron then moved on to start rolling the shoulder that Zak was clinging to. He looked like a rotary printing press, with all the cylinders spinning in alternating directions. "Aaron!" Cain shook him slightly, "Will you stop moving?"

"You sent my taxi away." How could Aaron be in this state? Cain thought he couldn't drink on the medication. He thought it made him sick. That was how all this had come to light in the first place. Aaron tipped his head back and his body slowly followed into a slow motion backwards dive. "Jesus, Aaron!" Cain snapped in shock. He fitted his hand around the back of Aaron's neck to prevent him from falling further and slowly, with Zak's assistance, jacked him back up. Aaron then toppled forward and the pair of them managed to get an arm each and wrap it around their shoulders. It prevented Aaron from landing flat on his face. Aaron just laughed.

"I thought he couldn't drink!" Zak groaned as the heavy burden of Aaron required him to use all his strength. Aaron's legs would work for a few steps before they'd wanted to take a rest. Each time, he stopped abruptly and it would propel Zak and Cain backwards. Aaron laughed again. "Yeah, Dad, I didn't think he could either." The continued walk to the pub wasn't easy and took a long time despite only being a few yards up the road. Brenda had arrived as they approached the front door. She held back and cheerily asked if there was anything she could do. The stupid cow might as well have been asking a delivery man if he would like her to sign for next door's parcel. "Yeah, keep your nose out." It was rude and Brenda had been upset, which was exactly the result he wanted. Cain opened the pub door and carefully maneuvered Aaron through it, whilst also propping it open. It was like a complex kissing gate. First person opens gate and gets through. Third person keeps gate open. First and third persons lead second person through. Third person follows. Aaron's head bashed against the glass pane and he laughed. "What about my flight?" Cain gritted his teeth. "I don't know about any flight." They almost toppled through, and when they landed, it was clear that this was not an event that was going to go unnoticed, half the village was there.

Chastity was stood, mid serve. She had a glass a wine in one hand and a pint of beer in the other. Her mouth swung open, noticeably, and it caused the customer to turn around. Cain didn't recognise the man. "What the hell…" Her words trailed off and the drinks she was holding were slammed down onto the bar, the lager spilling over the rim.

"He's drunk."

"Drunk!" She scuttled around the bar on her heels and lifted Aaron's face, he had a stupid smile on his face. "What the hell is he doing drinking?"

"I don't know. We found him trying to get a taxi."

"A taxi?"

"To the airport."

"Why?" It was becoming increasingly difficult to keep Aaron upright. He was slipping through their hands like a wet surface. "Chas," barked Zak, "can we do this once we've got him through the back?" The hatch leading behind the bar provided resistance in their mission. They slid Aaron through, having to slightly loosen their grip, and Aaron crashed against the wooden top. His arms were sprawled out across it and he seemed to have momentary awareness. "Everyone's looking at me." They were. The pub had gone silent; there wasn't even any whispered discussion. Cain could see their heads bobbing along and tracking Aaron's movements. When he fell, they dipped, and when Cain and Zak picked him back up, they rose.

Inside the living room, Aaron was dropped to the couch; afterwards, both Cain and Zak stretched out their backs, relieving the pain. Aaron lay mostly on his side and partially on his front; his nose was pressed into the arm of the couch. Chastity looked aghast. "Aaron, why have you been drinking?" Aaron's tongue tumbled out of his mouth in an attempt to form words. He was staring at their shoes. "Aaron?" Chastity crouched down and lifted him into a sitting position, it wasn't easy, and so Cain joined in. Aaron's eyes rolled into the back of his head. "Why were you going to the airport?" She sat down next to him, allowing herself to act as a prop. Aaron reached out an unsteady hand. It was unclear what he was trying to do. His fingers ended up tangled in her hair. "You're my Mum."

"Yes, I am." Nothing about Aaron's state was funny. It made Cain feel overwhelmingly uneasy. "Aaron," Chastity tried again. "Why were you going to the airport?" Aaron's head dipped into the crevice of her neck, she wrapped an arm around him to stop him from falling forward. "Aaron?"

"To see Dean." His muffled answer was startling and yet something totally expected and full of sense. Chastity smiled up at them, clearly finding it adorable and letting it overshadow any concern at her son's drinking. Aaron started giggling. It began indecisively, like it didn't know whether it would like to form. It then evolved into a full laughter. Aaron grabbed at his Mums arms, clawing at them. He was laughing harder now. Cain looked at him in shock. Aaron's mouth had widened as if to scream. His face contorted. His fingers dug deep. He looked in terrible pain. He carried on laughing.