Then, the memories shifted. The bright and happy reminders faded to ash and were replaced by that first hospital visit, the doctor's diagnosis, and the first time in Rocky's life that he'd ever truly felt completely useless. He still felt that way. How could Rocky protect Seth from his own body? How could he stop a disease that was unstoppable?
Those distant memories of happy times were swallowed up by memories of watching his boy slowly wither away and being unable to do a goddamn thing about it. Doctor visits where Seth had deteriorated more and more each time. Sitting with Seth as he received transfusion after transfusion, none of which would help in the long run. The only thing that could help Seth was a blood relative who was a match. Seth hadn't had any blood relatives. They'd passed away.
Rocky remembered the multiple ancestry searches he'd done, hoping to find someone who was related to his boy, even if it was a distant relative. Each search had proven the same. Seth had no one left.
Rocky had done everything in his power to make Seth's final days happy. They'd gone to Ireland because Seth had always wanted to go. He’d pushed Seth’s chair along cobbled paths and they’d marveled at the green countryside. They’d laughed about it being fake because it was much too brilliant of a color to be real.
Rocky had taken leave from his security job and they'd gone camping in the woods among trees so massive they’d seemed prehistoric. They’d visited the beach where he’d helped Seth build a massive sandcastle, both of them laughing merrily at how ugly it had been.
Rocky had given Seth every minute of every day that they were home in Little space. He’d cooked and cleaned, he’d spent time with Seth, playing with toys together and coloring pictures. Rocky had taken every chance to be with his Little boy as much as he possibly could. He'd taken care of him in intimate ways, and made sure that Seth knew he was loved beyond reason.
When the end had come, and hospice had entered the picture, Rocky hadn't let them do anything beyond control medications. Rocky wasn't about to let anyone else take care of his boy. No one else would be changing his diapers or bathing his frail skin. No one but Rocky would be feeding Seth, or holding Seth’s head as he was sick.
Rocky let out a sob when the casket settled into the bottom of the grave, which opened the floodgates. Once loosed, the sounds of his grief echoed in the trees surrounding the graveyard. There was no longer a way to be stoic. He lost the ability to hold himself upright. He sank to his knees, leaned over the edge of the hole in the ground as tears fell steadily onto the white surface below.
So much of Rocky wanted to dive in there with his boy. They were meant to be together forever. How could the world be so cruel as to give him his forever love and take him away a short ten years later. They hadn’t had enough time. Rocky hadn't had enough time.
Dropping a yellow rose into the grave because yellow had been Seth's favorite color, Rocky continued to kneel and stare at the white casket. He couldn't bring himself to walk away. He couldn't abandon his boy to the dark abyss. Seth was afraid of the dark. He was meant to comfort Seth and soothe his fears. What kind of Daddy would he be if he left Seth to face the darkness alone?
“I’m here, baby boy. Daddy’s here.”
Even as the thought flitted through his mind, he wondered if Seth was here. Could Seth hear him? Would Seth know how he’d fallen apart?
Maybe if he stayed knelt there long enough, if Seth got scared enough, he’d pop out of that god-forsaken grave. Maybe, if Rocky closed his eyes tight enough, he’d hear Seth telling him it had all been one terrible dream, that he wasn't really gone.
Maybe Rocky would wake up the next morning with his arms around his sweet boy. Maybe he'd find Seth with his naturally tan skin gleaming and glowing with happiness, no longer gray and ashy. Maybe he'd see Seth's eyes shining with laughter and joy, not dulled with despair. Maybe he’d find Seth to be lithe, strong, and muscled once again, no longer bony and frail.
If only he could wake from this nightmare. Or, if nothing else, if only he could do it over again. He'd spend more time with Seth and less on deployment. He would have retired from the Army sooner, and never re-upped while Seth was in his life. He’d find Seth sooner. Search him out and give them more time. He'd do the things with Seth that he always wanted to do when Seth was strong enough to enjoy them as any Little boy should. There were so many things Rocky would change if he could just be given another try.
Rocky was pulled from his thoughts as the first shovels of dirt were tossed over the casket, the thudding sound causing him to jump as the clumps and grains scattered over the casket's surface. The debris following the carnage. Suddenly, Rocky wanted out of there. He couldn't watch as they buried his boy, tossing dirt over him as if he hadn't been the brightest thing in this world.
Tears continued to stream from Rocky's eyes, and he knew he shouldn't be driving but he had to get away, as far away from the graveyard as he could. He sent up a silent prayer of thanks when he pulled into the driveway of the home he'd shared with Seth.
Rocky walked slowly to the door, subconsciously knowing how he’d react to what he found. As he unlocked and opened the door, the smell of antiseptic and death assailed him. His initial instinct was to run. Despite the length of time that those smells had been ever-present in their house, Rocky had yet to become accustomed to them. His stomach turned but he tried to push through it, heading to their bedroom, intent on getting some sleep. As soon as he entered the door of their room and found all the little bits of Seth, he couldn't take it anymore. The smells of Seth’s death, blending with the reminders of Seth’s life were just too much.
Sobbing in earnest, Rocky grabbed a bag, loaded it with everything he could carry, grabbed a photo from his nightstand and a stuffy from the bed and headed for his bike. He had to get away. Rocky swiped the tears still falling from his eyes, fired up his Harley and headed east. He didn't know where he was going or when he'd be back, but he needed to find healing and that wouldn't happen in this small town.
Chapter One
Aiden
Present Day
"Earth to Pup, you gonna take a break from that anytime soon?"
Aiden looked up from his computer screen at the sound of his club nickname to find Rich leaning against the door frame, arms crossed over his massive chest. Rich was a lower member of the club who’d only become a full member about six months before. In that moment, his dark eyes glittered with merriment and excitement, telling Aiden this wasn’t club business, he just wanted some company.
Being so new meant that Rich wasn’t really close with any of the longer-standing members of the MC, so when he’d taken a shine to Aiden shortly after his acceptance, Aiden had done everything in his power to help Rich feel welcome. They’d started out slow, hanging out at the pool tables with Aiden listening to Rich shooting the shit. Lately, they'd been hanging out more, having lunch together, getting a beer when the mood struck. A simple friendship.
At first, Aiden thought maybe Rich had wanted more. The way he'd studied Aiden, as if looking for something had led Aiden to wonder if maybe Rich had discovered his secret. That hadn't turned out to be the case, however. It was apparently just a case of the new guy wanting a friend. Aiden was happy to be that friend. He remembered what it was like to be the new guy, unsure of whether he’d be accepted.
Since finding this group of men four years ago, Aiden had finally found his home. The officers of the club had accepted him and welcomed him, and Aiden knew they'd do anything for him. Hell, he'd do anything for them too.
Part of Aiden wanted to let them see all of him, but with his past and the number of times he'd been pushed away for who he was, he didn't want to risk it. If the other times had hurt, Aiden knew that these men pushing him away would kill him. He didn’t think they actually would, but Aiden had been wrong before with much less to lose. He couldn’t lose his family.
One member in particular. It would rip Aiden’s heart to shreds if Rocky turned his back on Aiden. He couldn't think about that, though. Rocky would never know that he featured in Aiden's fantasies. Even if Aiden had felt comfortable revealing his sexuality, or admitting to the other secret he held, everyone knew that you didn't shit where you ate, and Aiden had finally found the abundance of love and acceptance he'd always searched for. No way was he risking it.
"Yo! Earth to Pup. You hear me?" Rich had straightened from his leaning position and looked at Aiden with worry. Crap. He'd forgotten the man was there. Again. In the course of their friendship Aiden had been called back to Earth by Rich more times than he could count. His thoughts did tend to wander often.
