#robronforever

His whole body feels like it’s on fire, cooking him from theinside out. Is this how his mum felt as she burned inside that barn?

“Hey, it’s okay. Don’t cry yeah.” The lightest of touchesbrushing against his forehead, offering cool relief for the briefest ofmoments. “I know it hurts, but mums coming okay, she’ll know what to do.”

The words don’t match the voice. The words speak ofconfidence that the owner of the voice clearly isn’t feeling. He knows that voicethough. Trusts if it says it’s going to be okay then Robert knows it will beokay.”

“Love, what’s…” A new voice now, this one stirs something inthe back of his mind, he’s not sure what.

Can’t think.

Pressure. Pain. Somuch pain.

“Please make it stop.” He must have said that last part aloud,the cool comforting fingers back in his hair, words of reassurance whispered inhis ear.

“It’s okay love. Everything’s going to be okay, I promise.”The second voice again now, only he’s not sure about whether he can trust thisone. Not as much as the first.

He’s distantly aware of another hand touching his forehead.

Pressure. They’retrying to kill him. So much pressure.

The hands gone almost as quickly as it arrived, the pressureremains. “He’s burning up.”

“How long has he been like this?”

“He was complaining about a headache last night. Said hewasn’t feeling great. I should have known. You know what he’s like, his legcould be hanging off and he’d say it was just a scratch. He’s such an idiotsometimes.

He’s distantly aware of a conversation going on around him.The word idiot seems to have been mentioned about him. He wants to protest thathe’s not an idiot thank you very much but given his current situation he thinksthat perhaps he can’t really protest, least of all because the mere thought oftalking right now just seems impossible.

“You’ve got that right sadly. Not unlike someone else Iknow.” The second voice again.

Silence. Darkness. Asigh.

“Not now mum.”

Mum. No that’s not right. He wants his mum Everything hurts.Mum always makes it better.

“Mum?” He hears himself croak, wincing at how pathetic hesounds.

“Hey, shh. It’s okay. It’s Aaron. I’ve got you.” The handsare back sure and strong. One tangling deftly through his hair, the otherfinding his hand, giving a gentle squeeze.

Aaron. Husband.Safety. Mum?

“Mum?” He tries again, hoping to get the attention of theother voice in the room. The one that isn’t Aaron.

“He’s delirious, don’t worry, it’s just the fever. Once itbreaks he’ll be okay.” The second voice again.

That voice shouts mum.

Safe. Home.

But that can’t be right. He lost his mum. That voice can’tbelong to his mum.

He dares to hope. Dares to dream. Delirious they said. Maybehis mum dying was all some horrible delusion. Not real. This is real. His mum.

There’s only one way to know for certain. One thing that hismum always did for him when he was ill. He needs ask the voice. Needs to knowfor certain.

“Mum. Sing to me please,” he whimpers through the nausea andthe pain.

“Rob, you’re mums not here; she’s dead.” Aaron’s handsqueezing tighter. He sounds scared. He trusts Aaron. He does, but he needs tohear it from her; the other voice. Needs her to tell him.

“Mum, please?”

Desperation. Pain.Despair.

Robert love,” the voice starts, then falters. There’s a silence,too long and he thinks she’s gone. Left him again.

“When the rain is blowing in your face, and the whole worldis on your case.”

He can feel the tears welling up as he listens to the voice.She’s singing, and he knows that he’s safe. Everything’s going to be okay.

“I could offer you a warm embrace, to make you feel my love.”

Love. Home.

Mum.

It had been a long time since Robert had felt motherly love,and he couldn’t help but embrace it as he drifted off to into darkness.

When the evening shadows and the stars appear

And there is no one there to dry your tears

I could hold you for a million years