for the dialogue drabbles: "You're coming back, right?"
fic prompt: 'you're coming back, right?'
word count: 2k
warnings: n/a
summary: it's a fine line, juggling impossible new year's resolutions while parenting, as aaron dingle soon discovers
Most people’s New Year’s resolutions involve giving up smoking or alcohol or biting their nails — bad habits, vices used to cope in times of hardship or distress.
Aaron sympathises with those people, he does, except he can’t help but feel like they’ve got it easy in comparison to him, really. In fact, Aaron’s half afraid that he might pick up one or two of those addictions just to see him through.
It’s 2027.
He and Robert have survived an entire year with no psycho husbands crawling out of the woodworks, or near death experiences — excluding the explosive start to last year, and that one trip to A&E after Ross had somehow angered a herd of sheep and he, Robert and Mack had ended up getting trampled, and Aaron had genuinely believed he might die from the lack of oxygen he was sucking in between peals of laughter — or Dingle Court meetings, though those are mostly just an excuse for a knees-up these days.
They’ve moved into Tall Trees Cottage now, and if nothing else they’re both just grateful that none of the walls are orange, and there’s no bad memories built into the bricks of the place. It’s a fresh start, just the two of them —
And then November came ‘round, and Seb pitched up on his birthday and his Aunt Angela had decided today was as good a day as any to bring the boy’s stuff over and let him properly move in.
“We were going to do it after Christmas anyway,” she said, thin lips drawn up in a wistful smile as she watched Seb tear the wrapping paper off a Grow Your Own Crystals set. “Why not now?”
It’s January first now, and the high of the Christmas period is waning, along with Aaron’s self-restraint. His alarm is blaring, the telltale sign that it’s eight am and he needs to drag himself up and out of bed if he’s got any hope of fulfilling the promise he’d made to himself at midnight just a few short hours ago.
Because Aaron’s New Year’s resolution, regrettable though it may be in the cold light of day, is to actually go to work.
Vinny’s been mitherin’ on for weeks about the workload, and there’s not really anyone to help out besides Dylan when he wants a few extra quid between shifts at the depot, so Aaron resigns himself to donning his work gloves and going back to smashing up home appliances and crushing old motors again.
Robert is already long gone, his side of the bed neatly made and cold to the touch. Farming means early starts and late finishes more often than not, and Aaron would be madder about it if the fresh air and open land didn’t make Robert so adorably happy.
Aaron scrambles to get dressed, hopping down the stairs as he pulls his sock up, like a madman with a death wish.
At the kitchen table, Seb’s already munching on his bowl of Coco Pops, a plate of buttered toast set in the place opposite him.
“Knew you’d oversleep,” the kid mumbles, engrossed in whatever book he’s reading this week. Honestly, Aaron had been hoping to use the third bedroom for another kid someday, but he’s starting to think it might have to become a library with how many books Seb’s accumulating. “Made ya breakfast. Hope it’s okay.”
They’ve got the best kid in the world.
“You’re a lifesaver, mate,” Aaron declares, means it too, as he snags a slice and takes a large bite. “Whatcha readin’?”
Seb scrunches his nose up in the same way Robert always has when Aaron’s table manners disgust him. It’s cute, even if it leaves him feeling condescended by a nine-year-old.
“It’s a book about Norse mythology.”
Aaron hums. “That’s, like, Thor and that, in’t it? And his evil brother — that bloke your dad likes.” Aaron’s incredibly pleased with himself for remembering that, considering he falls asleep about three minutes in whenever Robert and Seb force him to join their superhero watch parties.
“Yeah, but Loki’s not his brother in mythology,” Seb corrects.
“Oh, right.”
Aaron finishes his toast, takes his plate and Seb’s bowl over to the sink and laments the fact that the kid doesn’t slurp his chocolate milk from the bowl.
What a waste, he thinks. A posh upbringing can’t buy good taste, it seems.
He debates washing them now, but a quick glance at the clock shows that he’s already pushing it if he wants to get to the scrapyard by nine — which he doesn’t, but he’d promised Vinny he’d be there to man the phone when opening hours started, and he’s not about to get a lecture from the little tosser if he doesn’t stick to his word.
“Your bag all packed?” Aaron asks as he watches Seb slip his trainers on without untying the laces. It’s something he’s still learning how to do, and Aaron’s thoroughly enjoying the process.
There’s not many firsts that he and Robert have left of Seb’s childhood now, so it’s nice to savour the ones they can.
Seb nods, gestures with his head to his Spider-Man backpack by the front door. God knows what the kid’s packed in there, but Robert reckons he checked it all last night, so it’s his burden to bear if Chas calls at bedtime to say Seb’s missing his toothbrush or pyjamas.
It’s his first sleepover in the village, and Aaron’s doing his best to pretend he isn’t freaking out about it. He knows Seb will have a great time — he loves Chas and Eve, and he’s got some weird hero worship going on around Liam that Aaron can’t even begin to fathom, and they all love him just as much — but there’s a big difference between a playdate and a sleepover, and Aaron already knows he’s going to spend the whole night half-awake, phone on loud and keys in the door ready to run over the road and pick him up at a moment’s notice.
“Alright. C’mon then, mate. Best get there soon if I want to survive Vinny’s wrath.”
Aaron pulls a silly face after that has Seb giggling as he shoulders his backpack and lets Aaron steer him out of the door and into the bitter winter chill outside.
The walk is a couple of minutes at most, made slightly longer by Lydia bumping into them and rambling on about some lunch the whole family is expected to be at on Sunday.
“It’s nowt serious,” she hastens to assure them. “Just a little get together.”
As if they hadn’t seen each other more over Christmas than Robert would’ve liked for the year. It’s still a work in progress, his relationship with the Dingles.
They make it to the pub soon enough, the main doors still sealed shut because Charity’s supposed to be manning the fort while Chas plays Supernanny, but she’s probably laying in the gutter somewhere, drowning her sorrows or shaggin’ Ross Barton, or whatever other shitty coping mechanisms she’s adopted recently.
Aaron still has a key for the back entrance, and he’s just about to fish it out of his pocket when Seb places a tentative hand on the sleeve of his black puffer jacket.
When Seb doesn’t say anything, Aaron studies his face. His cheeks are flushed pink from the cold, his freckled nose a shade darker, and his baby blue eyes are wide and filled with what Aaron realises is nervousness.
He’s on high alert as he bends down to Seb’s height, a hand on his shoulder, playing with the loose strands of strawberry blonde hair at his nape that have escaped from beneath his beanie.
“Mate,” he broaches, voice softer than he’d thought possible just a year ago, when his life was vastly different and rapidly careening out of control. “What’s up?”
Seb sniffles, does that thing that Robert does where he tries to school his features into a blank expression — except he’s nine-years-old and Aaron’s son, so he’s not fooling him for a second.
“You know you can tell me anythin’, don’t ya?”
Seb looks down at his feet, toeing the concrete. If he scuffs those trainers Robert will have an aneurysm, but Aaron’ll quite happily buy him a hundred replacement pairs if he just opens up about what’s bothering him.
“Why do I hafta stay here tonight?” Seb asks eventually, so quiet that the question would’ve been lost to the wind if not for Aaron already leaning into his personal space.
He sounds so confused, so sad, and Aaron’s heart splinters.
“I thought you liked it here,” he says because Seb’s always buzzin’ when he comes back from the pub, boasting about how Liam let him and Eve lick the spoon when they made brownies, or how Chas lets him help himself to crisps and Capri-Suns.
Maybe Seb’s scared a whole night there will have him shipped off to the dentist first thing in the morning, or halfway to a high cholesterol induced heart attack.
“I do,” Seb hastens to say, standing up ramrod straight with a panicked expression. “I really do, honest!”
Aaron smiles reassuringly. It’s something he’s made a point of since Seb had first come to stay with them — to never be afraid to admit if someone or something makes him uncomfortable. That Aaron and Robert will never be upset if he needs a breather.
It’s the sort of support Aaron wishes he’d had as a kid.
“It’s just…” Seb trails off, chews his bottom lip for a moment. It’s as shy as Aaron’s seen him since the second visit, when he’d shown Seb his fossil collection and Robert’s box of vintage comic books, and the kid had blossomed like the most beautiful flower, spewing facts at a million miles a minute.
“It’s alright, you can say it.”
Seb swallows, looks up through long blonde lashes, and asks, “You’re coming back, right?”
Aaron’s splintered heart shatters into a thousand tiny pieces on the ground.
He pulls Seb into his chest, strokes the back of his head like he can physically brush away the insecurities that plague him. Seb’s been through so much, too much, and sometimes it’s easy to forget because he’s so sweet and inquisitive and cheeky.
But he’s still just a kid.
Robert’s kid. Aaron’s kid.
“Seb,” he murmurs, choked up. “Of course we are. I promise. I’m on a scrap run tonight and your dad’s at the farm early, that’s the only reason we thought it’d be a good idea for ya to kip here. So we don’t wake ya with our heavy stompin’ about.”
Seb nods, head still buried in Aaron’s coat. “But you’ll pick me up in the morning?” he asks, muffled in the fabric.
“At three o’clock if you really want me to,” vows Aaron. “You can call us on the pub phone anytime and we’ll answer, alright?”
“Okay,” Seb whispers. He pulls away, wipes his red-rimmed eyes with his sleeve.
Aaron can’t resist pressing a kiss to the crown of his head, eyes closed for a second against the onslaught of tears he refuses to let fall.
When he’s done, Aaron resumes the task of opening the door, pushing it open only to be greeted by an armful of his little sister as she flies through the door and flings herself at him.
“Sharon!” she squeals. “You’ve brought Seb!”
Aaron chuckles, spins Eve around twice before plonking her down. “Sure did,” he confirms. “You gonna share your toys with him?”
Eve rolls her eyes. “Duh. How else would we be able to play together?”
“Right, ‘course.”
Chas appears from the kitchen, glancing between Aaron and the clock. “Aren’t you gonna be late?”
And yep. Vinny might actually deliver an entire PowerPoint presentation on the importance of punctuality at this rate — Aaron knows he’s got one, some ridiculous idea of Lewis’ from the cafe.
Still, it’s worth it to see the relaxed smile on Seb’s face as he waves at Aaron over his shoulder and lets Eve strongarm him up the stairs.
“Everythin’ okay, love?” Chas asks, maternal concern etched into her frown lines.
Aaron smiles. “Yeah. I reckon it is.”
Because he’s just done some successful parenting, hasn’t he? It’s just a shame Robert isn’t around so Aaron can gloat about definitely still being Seb’s favourite parent.
