don't freak out

Liv Week 2026

Day 5 - There's No Place Like Home

less than an hour into wednesday but i have ✨material✨ so i'll (i think) kick things off!!!

okay so maybe he was exaggerating a little. maybe it wasn’t fine. maybe it was so far from fine that Aaron would have to smash his smarmy fucking face in next time they met.

and he wasn’t trying to orchestrate that, he wasn’t, honest, but who could blame him if he spent more time than usual at the cafe as of late.

not like he had anyone to go home to.

Vic’s flight had got in hours ago and she hadn’t said a word to him, hadn’t even bothered calling, and Aaron couldn’t get in touch with Robert because of ‘protocol’ so he probably didn’t even know she was back. Aaron was relying on Serena, Serena, to give him the news.

he knew what the response would be, too. she shouldn’t have come back for me and it’s really not that bad.

bullshit, Rob.

bullshit. it was all bullshit. life was bullshit and for the first time in a long time Aaron wanted it to end. just for a second, before reality swept the rug out from under him. the reality of seeing the light leave Robert’s eyes when the truth came out. the reality of trying to hold together his rock, beaten and worn by an unforgiving storm. the reality of… the reality of what he saw when he entered the spare bathroom that morning, eyes crusted with sleep, too tired to be shocked, too shocked to think of anything else.

it was bullshit, and Aaron was going to do something about it.

Writing isn't going well at all this week, but I do have something to offer!

“He needs some time.” Jimmy explains, as calm as a millpond, when he takes the phone from the inside of his suit jacket and taps the screen, the melody cutting off, “Hence I advised you to drink your wine, it really can soothe the nerves…”

“How could you let him go alone?” Vic’s voice is high-pitched and full of disbelief, and Aaron would join her one-woman choir in demanding answers if he weren’t caught up in the way Jimmy’s smile softens, becoming even kinder if a little bit sad.

“The thing is, Victoria, that he has been quite lonely for a pretty long time.” he says gently, and the sentence stings Aaron like a stab to the gut.

Thanks for the tags @stuckinanothertimezone, @nerdyfangirl76 and @thatnervouswreck.

“Could we stop off at Tesco?” Robert asked halfway to Hotten. “Okay,” Aaron grunted. He’d agreed to take Robert to the hospital, not on a tour of the local landmarks. Still, he took a detour to the supermarket and found a nice parking space near the entrance. “I’ll be five minutes!” Robert said as got out of the car. When he returned he had a carrier bag with a bunch of flowers poking out the top. “You’re visiting someone,” Aaron stated accusatively. “Yes?” Robert looked confused, like Aaron wasn’t supposed to assume he had an appointment. “I’m not the only patient that’s ever been in Hotten General, you know?” “Right.” Aaron reversed out of the parking space, figuring it would be better to not delay the journey. “Going to see anyone I know?”

— — —

“—and if you’re going to run from a traffic stop, do it before you give them your license,” Jason finished, crossing his arms. “Questions?”

A man in the front row of mismatched folding chairs raised his hand. “Even if it’s fake?”

“Yes, even if it’s fake.” Jason took a breath before continuing. “It’s still your face, height, and weight, right?

Slowly but surely, the group began to nod.

“Mr. Hood?” A skinny twig of an 18 year-old raised a hand.

“Yeah?”

“My buddy told me that if they arrest you, and they don’t read your, uh,” the kid stumbled looking nervous. “Your, uh, Melinda rights, they have to let you go.”

Jason sighed into his helmet. There were times when he appreciated Bruce’s breathing tech. The sigh had been filtered and dispersed just after it had finished.

In the intervening moment, the group began to lean forward in their folding chairs, attempting to parse the silence.

Jason lifted one finger.

“They’re Miranda rights.”

Second finger.

“And no, they don’t let have to let you go. Best case scenario, they’ll have to throw out anything incriminating you said. That’s it.”

A plumber-for-hire perked up in the last row, opening his mouth.

“Shit you said during questioning,” Jason clarified quickly.

“Wait. You’re not supposed to talk during an arrest?”

Jason closed his eyes. Behind his helmet, they couldn’t see him. He couldn’t see them. It was beautiful, just for a moment.

Someone scoffed.

“What are you, a fucking snitch?”

“Devon,” Jason said, recognizing the voice, “Chill the fuck out. Brady, what the fuck are you saying when you get arrested?”

Brady was trembling in his seat.

“That I’m gonna f-fuck them up. And t-their families.,” he stuttered. “And I might even s-steal their dog so their k-kids hate them f-forever.”

“See?” Jason waved at Devon. “Terroristic threats. Not snitching.”

Nobody laughed. Jason could sense the incoming questions like they were bullets curving toward his head.

“Terroristic threats?”

“Okay,” Jason said. “So remember when we talked about the different definitions of assault?”