For @dinglesugden-af cause we had the same "Aaron drugged and crying out for Robert" idea
The last few days have been bliss for John. All of his worries about Robert, and Mack, and their interference have melted in the face of Aaronâs desperation. Thereâs nothing that can calm him more than the knowledge that someone needs him. Itâs a drug in itself.
Aaron is still on the sofa, not having moved much since he first said âJohn, I donât feel so goodâ and laid his head down on the armrest. Of course, John has helped him move around the cottage a little bit to wash and brush his teeth. There was a brief moment where Aaron batted his hands away when John tried to change him into a pair of pyjamas - he knew it would make him more comfortable but Aaron had been strangely reluctant to take his clothes off. It had reminded John of a petulant toddler refusing to go to bed, and heâd told Aaron as much, his husband finally complying with a huff, still well enough at that point to roll his eyes without feeling dizzy.
Daytime TV - programmes that are only ever watched by retirees and people taking sick-days - is quietly playing in the background. Aaron isnât even pretending to pay attention to it; his eyes unfocused and hazy except when John comes in to check on him. John can tell when he needs to give Aaron a new dose because his skin becomes less clammy and he starts to shift about a bit, restless to sit up. Though, the desire to switch the channel to anything other than Loose Women is probably enough of a motive for anyone to reach for the remote, regardless of how much diazepam they have in their system.
He might have upped the dose a little too far on that last go, though. He didnât really plan it, itâs just that Aaron had said âI want to see my Mumâ and hadnât backed down when John had promised that they could go when he felt better.
