by Jaime Reese
The video faded into a scene, panning across a grassy backyard. A tall man with dark hair who looked like an older version of Ty stood behind a barbecue grill and called out over his shoulder toward the house behind him.
"What is this?" Jessie asked, peering up at Aidan.
Aidan's focus remained on the video as if trying to recall a memory. "Oh! That's my birthday. I think my thirteenth. I had this big hang up about having to control the camera since I was now 'a teenager.' That's my dad behind the grill and I'm guessing Mom's in the house."
"Ty looks a lot like your dad."
Aidan smiled warmly. "Yeah, he does."
Suddenly, the video spun almost one hundred eighty degrees then back around again. "I'm totally going to kick your ass if you keep hiding from the camera," the young voice from the video said.
Jessie laughed. "Let me guess. That's you?"
"Yeah," Aidan said with a chuckle. "Ty kept walking behind me to avoid the camera. He insisted he should have had the camera because it was my birthday, and I should be the one on the video, not him."
Suddenly, the video panned back to the house, and a tall, lean woman emerged with a platter of food. Ty may have looked like their father, but Aidan indisputably mirrored their mother. The dark hair and hazel eyes were an exact match and the inquisitive stare a dead giveaway to their hereditary link. She smiled warmly to her husband, a lopsided grin that punctuated her blood tie to Aidan.
"You look so much like her," Jessie said in awe.
"She was amazing," Aidan said, his tone wistful. He blankly looked ahead, as if watching the television, but it was obvious his mind had probably returned to that very moment in time.
A young boy ran across the video and the camera turned to follow him. "You're not escaping," young Aidan's voice said. "Ty, stop running!" he yelled, then laughed before sprinting after his brother, the video image bouncing up and down, still recording as he raced through the yard.
Aidan chuckled and leaned into Jessie. "I'd always give him a head start. Man, he was impossible when he lost so I'd let him win sometimes."
The camera finally caught up to young Ty and a hand reached out to grasp his shoulder. "Gotcha!"
Young Ty turned and smiled. His brown eyes brightened with the glare of the sun. "Gimme!" he yelled as he laughed and tugged on the camera, finally pulling it away and turning the lens to focus on a striking young version of Aidan.
Jessie's breath hitched. Young Aidan smiled wide and laughed loudly as he struggled to regain the camera. He reached out and covered the lens with his hand. "It's my birthday. Give me that thing." He flicked his head from side to side, trying to avoid his face getting caught on video. His hair blew with the summer air—the top fringing just above his eyes and the sides long enough to curl around his ears and barely touch the top of his T-shirt. Young Aidan laughed as the camera finally focused on him, capturing his playful, mischievous grin.
And unbridled happiness.
"Say something for the camera," young Ty said.
"Something."
Yeah, that's Aidan. Jessie smiled and looked up at him. His smile faded at the now stern expression on Aidan's face. Jessie returned his focus to the video playback and watched as the brothers left the camera on the ground then ran in circles until they tumbled down onto the grass. Although they were quite a distance from the camera, their laughter echoed in stereo through the video, capturing a joy which could only be described as youthful innocence and could only happen between brothers or the closest of friends. Young Ty climbed onto his big brother's back, laughing as young Aidan trotted around the yard and neighed like a horse. Ty complained when they finally approached the camera, begging for another lap around the yard. Young Aidan's face filled the screen with a huge smile, flashing every tooth in his mouth. The sweat trickled down his forehead and the now wet hair tips stuck to his face.
He neared the camera with his younger brother still arm-locked around his neck. "This birthday boy is signing out," he said, crossing his eyes and giving the camera fish lips. Young Ty peeked over his shoulder and stared into the camera and yelled "happy birthday" before young Aidan switched off the recording. The video immediately faded to black then resumed with another scene from the same day.
An oddly silent Aidan unwrapped his arm from around Jessie. "I'm going to review some of the files before the meeting tomorrow morning to try to catch something we might have missed." Aidan stood, then walk over to the door, double-checking the locks and alarm.
Jessie paused the video and waited. "Aidan?" Something seemed off, but he couldn't peg exactly what had happened to darken Aidan's mood.
Aidan returned to his side, reached down, and pressed his lips to Jessie's in a tender kiss.
Jessie wrapped his arms around him, unsure why a swell of emotions had suddenly risen within and tightened his throat.
Aidan inched back from the embrace and gave him a lopsided grin.
"Did you want to watch the rest of the video?"
Aidan looked at Jessie for a few seconds, hesitating before he spoke. "Nah. I'm going to do some work." He hesitated as if wanting to say something more. Instead, he turned away, his shoulders slumped as he retreated down the hallway to the bedroom.
Jessie sighed when the door clicked shut. He wouldn't push. Aidan would return and open up to him when he was ready…and not a moment before. He returned his focus to the television and resumed the video, lowering the volume so as not to disturb Aidan while he worked.
He sat upright on the couch and watched the young brothers continue to roughhouse and run around the yard until the recorded sessions showed the night sky and the exhaustion of the day. Each of their parents made video appearances and gushed about both of their young sons. Jessie hadn't realized how tightly he held the cushion in his hands until his fingers became numb or how the tears trickled down his cheeks until he wiped away the unexpected wetness. He rubbed at the ache in his chest as he watched the young Aidan in the video, smiling as if he didn't have a care in the world.
The smile.
An overwhelming sense of mourning overtook him as he watched young Aidan grab his young brother and rub his head, laughing hysterically as Ty protested but smiled.
Something had broken Aidan's spirit.
Jessie had come to a harsh realization each time Aidan confided a truth. It wasn't one thing that left a mark on Aidan's soul but a series of events, slowly adding another layer to the rising stack of heartbreaking milestones.
Jessie tightly clutched the cushion against his chest, mesmerized watching the young Calloway boys play on the screen. Their closeness, undeniable. Their happiness, indisputable. Their brotherly bond, seemingly unbreakable. Yet, something had happened to rob the joy from Aidan's soul.
Jessie absently wiped the wetness trickling down his cheeks, no longer trying to control the outlet of emotion. This was his Aidan. The Aidan with infinite mischief who teased him to no end. The same protective Aidan with an abundance of love who spent nights by his bed watching over him just to make sure he slept through the nightmares while at the hospital.
The same Aidan who lay buried under the protective layers of armor, shielding himself from prying eyes.
Jessie loosened his hold on the cushion and took a deep breath, nodding to himself as he made a decision. With resolute determination, he took another deep breath and swore he'd do anything to bring back that joy to Aidan's life and awaken that intoxicating smile again for the world to see.
* * * *
"You're regressing," Dr. Engel said.
Aidan looked over his shoulder at the good doctor from his perch at the window. She sat in her chair, patiently waiting, staring at him—her way of telling him to open his fucking mouth and speak.
"Something's driven you back into your shell. How about we talk about that?"
Aidan sighed and returned his focus to watching the people walking on the street between the tall buildings. The weight of frustration and sense of hopelessness bore on him
more than usual. He was just…tired. Always trying to keep it together, putting up a good front. But last night, he'd hit an all-time low and he'd been kicked in the gut, no longer able to deny what clearly stared back at him. "I saw an old video yesterday."
"What kind of video?"
"Home video. My thirteenth birthday. Ty and me. Our parents. Small backyard barbecue thing." He shrugged. Not really sure why he couldn't lock this up in his internal vault and move on.
The doctor paused and the sound of a pen scribbling on paper echoed in the room. "Was it difficult to see your parents on screen?"
"No. That was nice."
"What part wasn't so nice?"
Aidan sighed again and crossed his arms, resting his head against the window frame. The sky's blue hue had darkened since his arrival and the deep oranges now faded into a rich red as the sun set behind the building. The colors changed, but the people racing on the street and gridlock traffic heading out of downtown remained the same.
"Aidan?"
He glanced over his shoulder again, trying to remember her question. "It was weird seeing myself in that video."
"Why?"
He turned around to face the doctor, hoping to avoid the distraction of the window. He lowered his brow, wondering what had happened to the boy in the video he used to know so well. Somehow, he had locked away the smiling, happy, playful version of himself and didn't have a clue how to reach him. And it pained him. A deep ache in his chest he hadn't experienced since the mourning of his parents. As if that inexplicable void hadn't been enough, out of the corner of his eye, he'd snuck a glance at Jessie who sat mesmerized watching the video with a hint of a smile touching his lips.
That stung even more. To know that another version of himself, one he no longer knew, could easily bring a smile to Jessie's face.
"It's as if I was looking at a different person," he said, remembering the younger version of himself running around the yard with his baby brother clinging to his back.
The doctor set her pen and notebook aside and clasped her hands together. "I'm going to ask you the dreaded doctor question. How did that make you feel?"
He refused to make eye contact. He couldn't sort through all the emotions racing through his mind to pick the correct answer. I suck at this shit. "I don't know," he finally said.
"Yes, you do. I'm not expecting you to say anything in particular. Just tell me what you felt. There is no right or wrong answer."
"I miss him," he whispered.
"What do you miss most about him?" Dr. Engel asked.
Aidan blew out a heavy breath, fighting a mix of pain and resentment. He pushed off the wall and sat on the couch across from the doctor. He rested his elbows on his legs and raked both hands in his hair, burying his head in his hands. "His…my smile in the video was effortless. I can't remember the last time I laughed that much." He sat up, forcing his mind to focus on stringing together his thoughts, his entire body heaving with each labored breath. He pushed his palms together and rubbed his hands, trying to ignore the ache in his chest.
"It was…strange hearing myself laugh. It's weird because I know what my brother's laugh sounds like. And I remember how much I missed it when he was recovering after the accident. And I remember the first time I heard it again. It was…like fucking magic. It sucked the air out of my lungs. But I can't…remember what my laugh sounds like anymore," he finished quietly.
Dr. Engel leaned forward. "You have this huge burden you carry on your shoulders and you don't realize how it weighs you down and affects every aspect of your life. You need to stop trying to carry this weight on your own."
Aidan looked up, his heartbeat picking up a notch. "I'm not going to broadcast my shit to the world or wear my emotions on my sleeve. That's not me. And no amount of therapy or talking or whatever the fuck you want to call it is going to change that."
She stared at him, matching his intensity. He knew better than to look away first.
"You are not a failure."
Aidan scoffed and shook his head, disgusted with himself. "You're supposed to tell me that. I pay you to listen to my bullshit."
The good doctor took a deep breath. "You're not listening to me on this because my opinion is not the one that matters to you." Dr. Engel sat back in her chair. "Okay, let's try a different approach. What's stopping you from telling Jessie what happened?"
He finally looked away.
"Aidan?"
He returned his focus to her, spearing her with a scowl he hoped would finally quiet her. "What?" he snapped, with a bit more bite than he had planned. Well, maybe I did mean to snap. Maybe she'll finally back the hell off.
She leaned forward again, clasping her hands. "I'm not dropping the subject so I suggest you answer the question."
Great, now she's fucking psychic too. His jaw muscles tensed as he bit back the simmering anger, staring at the doctor who refused to back down. Her persistence, both a blessing and a curse, often annoyed him. Even more so at that moment.
"Tell him."
"No."
"Why?"
"That's my choice to make," he said through clenched teeth.
The doctor straightened and raised an eyebrow. "You are learning something from our sessions. But stop trying to find the convenience in the tools you're learning."
He crossed his ankle over his knee and gripped his leg, figuring silence was a more…respectable alternative than lashing out with a few choice words.
She grabbed the pen from the side table and rolled it between her fingers. "Okay, let's look at this from a different angle."
She could sure as hell have a one-sided conversation for all he cared.
"What do you think Jessie will do when you tell him?"
He continued to silently stare. Nothing. That's what Jessie would do because I'm. Not. Fucking. Telling. Him.
She leaned forward. "Aidan, answer the question."
The pain in his jaw muscles began to radiate down his neck. Why the hell doesn't she give up already?
"Do you think he would leave?"
He turned away and tightened his grip on his leg.
"Do you think Jessie would leave?" she asked more firmly.
He scowled as he looked over to the window. Fuck the damn couch. He stood and paced the room, needing to ease some of the tension thrumming through his body. He should walk out of the damn office.
"Do you think Jessie would leave you?" she repeated.
He walked over to his spot by the window, leaning against the frame, closing his eyes with a sigh. If she's pushing this damn much, it must be important. He had asked her to push when he stalled. But—hell—she took that shit to heart like a woman on a mission to save the world.
"Aidan," she said, in a softer tone. "This is important and I believe this is a huge milestone we can't ignore. I think most of your tension stems from this. I know you have strong feelings for Jessie and I think it's a fear of him leaving you—"
"I don't think he'd leave me," he said, blurting out the words. He opened his eyes and shoved his hands in his pockets as he stared out the window. No, he didn't think Jessie would turn his back on him and walk away. "He's too supportive," he added, barely above a whisper.
After everything they'd been through, he knew—without a second of hesitation—Jessie wouldn't abandon him like everyone else had. It was the only thing he held with certainty. He sighed. The sky had darkened to a deep sapphire with splashes of gray erasing the orange from a few moments ago. Sometimes, he wished he could just as easily erase things.
"So what are you worried about?"
Aidan tried to sort the thoughts in his mind and translate them into words that actually made sense. He lowered his head, willing the words to come. "When he was in the hospital, after the attack, I was so pissed off I'd lose him. I realize now I was scared out of my mind. There's something about him. I don't know what it is, but he keeps me balanced. Telling him this," he said, shaking his head.
He stared out the window, hop
ing to focus his thoughts. "He won't leave me; I'm not worried about that. But…I'm worried he'll see me differently and that will change things. He'll pity me or feel sad because of what happened. He'll see a weakness in me I don't want anyone to see." He glanced over his shoulder at the doctor. "Especially him," he whispered, before returning his focus to the window.
The sapphire shade of blue reminded him of how Jessie's eyes sometimes looked in the darkness of the living room, lit only by the flicker of the television screen. "He says I'm his rock. His guardian angel. Both of those things are hard and strong. That's what I always want to be for him. I know he loves me…and he loves that strength about me. And…I'm worried he won't see me the same once he knows." He shook his head again and blew out a frustrated breath, finally turning away from the window to face the doctor fully. "I don't think I'm making any sense."
"You think it's your strength he's drawn to and you're concerned that showing any weakness will diminish your connection with him."
"See that, Doc?" He withdrew his hands from his pockets and crossed his arms. He pursed his lips and nodded. "That's why you make the big bucks."
She cocked her head and gave him a lopsided grin. "I've known Jessie for a long time. He's stronger than many people give him credit for."
The edges of Aidan's lips curved into a smile. "And resilient."
The doctor nodded. "You know what he's been through. Did you pity him because of what happened to him with his father or Michael or when he was on his own?"
His eyes narrowed. "Hell no." For some inexplicable reason, her question really pissed him off. He straightened to his full height and squared his shoulders. "I have more respect for how strong he is. And I understand him more. I know why he needs order and control over things in his life."
A smile slowly spread across the good doctor's face.
What the fuck is so funny? Is she going to crack some stupid joke about defending Jessie's honor because I spoke up?
She crossed her arms and waited, still smiling smugly at him.