It's Always Darkest Before the Dawn

“I heard about you… topping that bloke.” He didn’t know where the words came from or what would fall from his mouth next. All he knew was that he hurt. “…How do you live with it?”

“You don’t.” Ross watched the tear roll down Aaron’s face with the focus of fighting his own. “You just have to get on with your life.” It was then Ross realized Aaron hadn’t been denying the blame for Donna’s death just to shift it from himself, but because he understood something that it didn’t seem anyone else did.



“Get your act together.”

The look of disgust on his face as Ross tossed him the the money.

“She’s gone, Ross. She’s gone.”

The words echoed in his mind, seemed to echo throughout the empty house.

And he was right. She was gone and he was self-destructing, chasing that rush he’d had on jobs with her when the real rush had been just… being with her. And now that Aaron had laid it all out plain and simple, everything just felt even emptier.



The chop shop fell apart in a glorious mess; coppers were hunting around Butler’s, Charity had to stash parts at Debbie’s which backfired beautifully, Ross had to move the freshly stolen motor. Watching the Dingles yell at each other while spectacularly pulling off a coverup was endlessly entertaining. It was over the course of the rest of the week – when Ross would catch snippets of Chas’s lectures in the pub, or overhear the concern in Debbie’s voice – that it began to sting. The only person that had yelled at or lectured him recently was James, and his talks always seemed weighted with guilt from years ago and a worthless, unspoken apology.

Charity shut the chop shop down and Ross and Aaron parted ways until Cain hired Ross back at the garage.

Working at the garage felt both a lot like the chop shop and a lot different. There was less banter with Cain breathing down their necks – and also unabashedly hating Ross. Silences were a little more tense than the comfortable quiet and tool-clinking of before. There was no fraternity of a shared secret, no latent thrill of pushing legal boundaries.

But there was company. Something about Aaron’s presence was calming, helped Ross focus. It took Ross a few weeks to realize it was Aaron having this effect. He had left for a few days while Adam had been in bother and work had seemed – less natural. Ross had been antsy, uncomfortable around Cain and less trusting in his own work on the motors. Then Aaron returned to the garage and everything shifted back to normal.

After Donna died, he’d been chasing the rush, the danger. Now he seemed to be seeking safety and comfort.

One night, Cain had left Aaron to lock up and Ross had fallen behind on his job. As Aaron set about closing down, Ross began to pack away his tools and sort the paperwork for the pickup the next day. They crossed paths in the office and maybe, had Aaron been anyone else, Ross wouldn’t have thought twice. Maybe, if Aaron weren’t gay the instinct would have never been sparked. But it was Aaron, less than a foot away, and Ross froze, blocking Aaron’s path.

“What?” Aaron asked, the question plain on his face.

And maybe it was confusion, maybe it was grief, maybe it was a yearning to be understood, to be close to someone again, but – Ross leaned in and kissed him.

When Ross pulled away he was sure his expression matched the perplexed one on Aaron’s face. Ross cleared his throat and stepped around Aaron to drop the folder he was holding into the outgoing box. The tension had suddenly skyrocketed and he wasn’t quite sure how to diffuse it.

Aaron spoke first, his voice full of bewilderment. “Look, I –”

“Let’s just –” Ross shook his head and held out a distancing hand. “This didn’t happen, okay?” He passed Aaron again and made his way out of the office without further comment, wracking his brain to figure out why the fuck he’d done that.