20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

The truth hurts, but sometimes it heals too

Aaron mashed the red button on his phone and ran his fingers through his hair, snarling them in the strands he was shaking so bad. What the PI had to told him…

Swallowing hard, Aaron fought down the urge to vomit, saliva pooling in his mouth as he whirled around fled to the ensuite bathroom, falling to his knees and nearly smacking himself in the face with the toilet bowl seat as he lifted it up. Coffee and eggs spewed from his mouth, the chunky bits hitting the water and splashing back as he heaved until his insides were raw. Even then, breathing was a struggle as tears made his eyes itch and he soon found himself sobbing and dry heaving as there was nothing left in his belly to bring up.

That was how Hawk found him when he'd come searching for Aaron, who was still clinging to the bowl, shivering and trying to make sense of everything the PI had discovered.

"What happened," Hawk asked gently, one large hand cupping the back of Aaron's neck and rubbing until Aaron finally settled down.

"I…" Stammering, he shook his head, struggling to put the whole mess into words. "PI called."

"I gathered as much in the kitchen when you ducked away to take the call," Hawk said, adding a little more pressure.

It was absolutely perfect, grounding him and helping him focus better.

"My grandfather killed Erik," Aaron stammered. "He was my mom's boyfriend. Pop-pop shot him climbing out of my mom's window. Said he thought Erik was a thief. He got away with it too, mostly. One of my dad's brothers retaliated and shot Pop-pop in the back a few weeks later, that's how he wound up in that chair."

"Shit."

Sniffling, Aaron tried to force out the rest of the revelation, the part that had left him heaving into the bowl.

"Wasn't the end of it though," Aaron stammered. "Erik's brothers wanted to make mom pay for not telling the truth about what happened, so they cornered her one night and took turns having their way with her. I'm pretty much the result. That's why there is no father listed on my birth certificate. It's no wonder they all hated me. I'd have left me behind too."

"Hey, no, fuck that, Aaron…" Hawk said, dragging him into a hug.

"There was never a chance to make them love me."

"Then they should have given you to someone who could," Hawk insisted, his hold on Aaron tightening. That was probably a good thing, since a real part of him wanted to sprint out of that bathroom as fast as he could and get lost somewhere until he could make sense of it all, or blot it out, whichever came first.

His Pop-pop's stern face welled up in his mind, scowl as deep and frightening as ever. Pressing his face to Hawk's shoulder couldn't banish it, the image was just there, floating, hovering over him as furious as ever.

How many times had he said that he couldn't stand the sight of Aaron?

At least now he knew the reason behind those words.

"Unky Hawk, is Unky Aaron okay?"

Dani's sleep slurred voice came from somewhere to the left of them, and Aaron tensed, drawing in a deep, shuddering breath as he fought to get his emotions under control.

"Y-yeah, sweetheart, I'm fine," Aaron managed, easing away from Hawk but keeping his head turned so Dani wouldn't see the tears soaking his cheeks.

"Why don't you grab a seat at the table honey, and I'll have your breakfast ready in a just a minute," Hawk said, sighing heavily.

He gave Aaron's shoulder a squeeze and hurried to the kitchen to deal with her before she decided to come any closer and investigate, which might have been the very best thing, because the tears wouldn't stop despite how many times he wiped them away.

Another door opened in the hall, at which point, Aaron hurried out the front door before one of the kids caught on that everything wasn't as okay as he claimed.

Outside, the sky was an endless gray, an early indication of a storm brewing. It would only be a matter of time before it unleashed all over them, though Aaron wished it would get it over with and maybe drown out some of what he was feeling right now.

Realistically, he knew none of it was his fault and there was nothing to be done for it now anyway. His mother was dead and hopefully she'd found the peace that she hadn't been able to find in life, while the people who'd raised him were who they'd always been, and nothing in the world would ever change that or their lack of feeling towards him.

In the past, he'd have obsessed over that, maybe even searched for the answers in the bottom of a bottle. Now, he just aimlessly wandered up the path towards the blackberry bushes and The Thoughtful Spot, bypassing them both to push deeper into the woods, towards the clearing where he and Hawk had lay drunkenly stargazing and making out not long after the man had bought this place.

The last thing he expected was to see anyone there when he came slogging through a pile of leaves, angrily kicking them out of his path. Only there Micah was, looking as fucked up and wrecked as Aaron felt.

For a moment, their eyes locked, then Micah scrambled to his feet, head turned away, almost a mirror of the way Aaron had been when he hadn't wanted Dani to look at him.

"H-hey," Aaron stammered. "Y-you okay?"

"C-could ask you the same thing," Micah shot back, still refusing to look his way. He had a folded-up newspaper in his hand, though it was hard to make out where it had come from.

"And I'd have to say no," Aaron managed, closing the distance between them.

"Yeah," Micah breathed. "Same."

"I um…if you need an ear," Aaron offered.

Micah nodded almost cautiously and lowered himself back onto the log he'd been perched on when Aaron had first stepped into the clearing.

"I…there was an a-accident…in the barn…my father…I was reading about it in A Plain Diary it's an Amish newspaper. I've only been able to keep track of my family by keeping a subscription to it. No one is allowed to talk to me until I repent and come home. Even if that were to happen, no one would accept all the ink I've got all over me or the fact that there are gonna be photos splashed everywhere of me with the band."

He was rambling the way Aaron often did when he was trying to talk and still sort things out in his head. Recognizing it for what it was, Aaron stayed quiet and waited, though he was already certain he knew where the conversation was headed and felt gutted for him.

"Even if I'd known I couldn't have gone to the funeral. I wouldn't have been welcomed. I wasn't even acknowledged as his child when they listed the rest of the family."

It was on the tip of his tongue to comment about how shitty that was, but deep down, Aaron knew that was the last thing Micah needed to hear at this moment.

"I just…seeing it in black and white, being blindsided by it and knowing…" His words trailed off as he wiped at the tears on his cheeks.

Aaron sat on the ground in front of him and placed a hand on his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze, reminded of the way Hawk had just done this for him and hoping it helped ground Micah in a similar way.

"That you weren't there," Aaron said softly.

Glancing up, Micah met his eyes and nodded. "Yeah."

"I was there when my mother took her last breath," Aaron said softly. "But there were so many questions that I never got to ask and things I'm learning now that just muddy everything more. It still doesn't feel like I got any closure. Being there with people who just used it as a time to point out all the ways they felt like I've strayed from the way they tried to raise me didn't help either. A part of me wishes I could do something to honor her, but how am I supposed to honor someone who was barely in my life?"

"My old man was there every day until the moment I decided that I couldn't commit myself to a faith and a way of living that wouldn't allow me to embrace the music I loved…among other things."

Aaron cocked his head to the side and studied him.

"Your friend Rebecka that you brought to family day, she's more than a friend, isn't she?"

Micah nodded and swiped at his eyes again. "Yeah, she um, she left the plain life before I did. She always loved to sketch and paint. She's got a real gift and an eye for the way colors and shapes go together; it would have been a shame for her to waste it."

"Is always a shame to waste talent," Aaron said softly. "I…"

Biting his lip, he knew he was about to admit to something that was a serious sore spot for him, but in this moment, when they were already sharing such personal pieces of their lives, it only seemed fitting.

"Growing up, I sang in the church choir," Aaron admitted. "I loved singing. I loved the hymns, I loved the emotion in them, I loved everything about getting up there in the middle of the service and sharing in the joy of another Sunday morning. It was when I started learning to sing other stuff that everything changed. My gram and my aunt, they used to harp about how it was the devil's music I was singing and how evil it all was and that I was wicked for singing it. That's when I started hating to sing all together."

"'Cause how could something that brought such joy and beauty be evil?" Micah said, finishing the thought for him. "I felt the same way about my guitar. I still remember the first time my old man caught me with it. He slapped my face and called me a sinner, and I stood there defiantly clutching it and told him that even sinners had a song. In hindsight, it was the wrong thing to say."

"Prolly about as wrong as me telling my Gran that there was no more perfect sin than one that let me touch the hearts of other sinners."

"You're good at it too," Micah murmured.

"Huh?"

"That night at the bar you touched onto something raw and so damned emotional that I was choking down tears as I was playing beside you," Micah said. "I can only imagine how moved the people in the church were if you sang hymns that way."

Aaron tried to smile, but all he could do was shrug and remember, not the beauty of it all, but how much it hurt when his aunt and Gram had come down on him for trying to explore the full range of what his voice could do.

"I guess in a way, we're both lucky," Micah said, his voice low and still filled with sadness. "We don't have to live trapped in the shadow of someone else's rules anymore."

"Even if the loss still hurts," Aaron murmured.

"And probably always will," Micah finished.

"I'm sorry that you didn't get to say goodbye," Aaron said softly.

"And I'm sorry that you had to."

Aaron smiled a little at that, able to breathe easier for the first time since getting off the phone.

"Do you mind just hanging out here with me for a while," Micah asked. "It's cool if you need to get back to the house, but I could really use the company."

"No, I've um, got nowhere to be. I came out here so the kids wouldn't see me all fucked up and emotional," Aaron admitted.

"Did something new happen?"

"You could say that," Aaron said, sprawling on his back and staring up at the trees and the slivers of dark sky between the branches. "I hired a PI to find out some things about my mom and the past and the truth was worse than I could have ever imagined."

"Sorry man. I hate to say it, but most times it is."

"Yeah."

Sucking in a breath, Aaron held it for as long as he could, letting it press against the ache that had settled in his chest, a sort of counter-pressure that kept some of the drowning misery at bay.

"Kelly, Ethan and Jason grew up together," Aaron murmured, finding that reminiscing about the old band hurt less than thinking about his mom and everything her family had put them both through.

"I thought you all did?" Micah asked. He was sprawled the opposite way, their heads almost touching. They'd get rained on soon, but Aaron really didn't care, maybe it would help wash away all the confusion swirling around in his mind, or maybe they'd just get soaked and lay there until the storm drowned everything.

"We grew up in the same place, but Hawk went to school on the other side of town while I went to a private Christian school and had to pretty much sneak around to hang out with them. I had this friend, Weldon…Wells, we all called him Wells. Him my grandparents approved of, unlike Hawk and the others, so, I'd say I was going to Weldon's house, then cut through the woods behind it over to the Kelly's place. His folks never minded how much noise we made out in their garage; they just stocked the fridge with extra sodas and snacks and helped keep my grandparents from catching me hanging around the place."

"Sounds like cool people."

"They are. They're where we got family day from. Well, them and Hawk's insanely boisterous and seriously huge extended family. You could get lost among them even if you knew everyone."

"Sounds a lot like my family," Micah admitted. "There were always aunts and cousins and relatives around, especially if there was something to celebrate and trust me when I tell you that Amish people love any reason to gather together, share food and catch up with one another."

Aaron chuckled at that, though it sounded brittle and bitter to his ears. "Southern people are the same way. Even my Gram and Pop-pop liked to go to gatherings, as long as they were full of other church folks."

"Until I was away from the plain way of life, I didn't realize that most people needed a special occasion to get together, at least in the city," Micah admitted. "And most times it involves checking calendars and rejecting a series of dates before something could get locked in."

"Yeah, that's one of the things that was always so special about the band," Aaron said as he brushed a raindrop off his cheek. "We spent the bulk of our time together, on and off the stage. Half of our misadventures wound up as songs and the rest are somewhere in Hawk's impressive collection of video footage."

The weather report had claimed showers and thunderstorms were coming. Still, he wasn't gonna move until Micah was ready.

"Music, the band…and Wells saved my life," Aaron said softly. "I wasn't there for Wells when I could have returned the favor. Was too busy putting as many miles between myself and that place as Ethan's old rickey van could get us."

The rain started coming down more, but it wasn't pouring yet and Micah was showing no signs of moving from the spot he'd flopped in, so it looked like they were lingering there a little longer.

"We don't have all the logistics worked out yet but Kelly and I have been talking about limiting practices sessions to three a week while we're writing and getting the feel for things. He'll arrange shows since we'll need to polish the material before we can record it and Hawk says we can have sessions here whenever we want. He's even been talking about building a second music room at the guest cabin, so we'd have the freedom to be up all night if we needed to. It won't be easy and I'm sure there will be times when I'm frazzled and short tempered but…"

"We'll make it work," Micah said, sitting up, which meant Aaron did too and turned to face him. "Besides, nothing could be harder than that first week."

"I am so…"

"Naa man, no more apologizing, I get it. Seriously. You and me, we're cut from the same cloth, and I don't just mean having families that didn't approve of us making music. My best friend, Ezekiel used to cover for me all the time when I'd sneak off to practice my guitar instead of being in the dairy barn between our family's farms helping to take care of the joint herd. I wasn't there for him when he needed me, either. He died in a buggy crash delivering the milk I was supposed to be taking to the cheese factory that day. It was the last fuckin' straw for me. No way in hell I could forgive the idiots tear-assing around in their pickup when they couldn't even be bothered to stop and help after they hit him. Maybe he'd have lived if someone had gotten there sooner and tried to stop the bleeding. I don't know."

"Fuck man, that's bullshit!"

"My old man stood there preaching at me about how I was going to be shunned until I made amends and in the next breath had the nerve to say that we must forgive the ones who'd killed Ezekiel and absolve them of their guilt since…"

"Everything is according to God's plan and humans were never meant to know or understand the reasons of the exalted one," Aaron said softly.

"What reason!" Micah howled into wind that had finally picked up and started lashing the rain at them. "How can there ever be anything fuckin' understandable about someone losing their life before they've had the opportunity to truly live it! How the hell is someone supposed to believe in some fuckin' plan by a creator that lets so much bad happen to good people!"

Aaron let him rage. He clearly needed it and those were the same questions Aaron had asked more than once? He also knew he could no longer let Micah set the tone for how long they stayed out here. He was deep in his emotions which meant Aaron would need to make the choice for them and potentially save Micah from himself. Couldn't have him catching a cold, or worse, especially when they were going to be hitting the road soon.

It was more than that though. In Micah, Aaron not only saw himself, but Wells and everyone else who grew up being force fed a way of thinking and were thrown away when they challenged it. In his mind, words came together, emotions, pain, rage, all those things he'd never been able to fully express started forming together into a song and damn if he hadn't been the guy who was worried about sending messages to their listeners and yet here he was, with a message he did want to send.

But it sure as hell wasn't religious, that was for damn sure. It was more about finding your family, your tribe to belong to, and about finding the strength to be who you wanted to be, despite the hellfire and resistance others threw your way.

Maybe it would help Micah too, if he wanted to put pen to paper and help Aaron write it. Either way, they needed to get the fuck out of here and back to the cabins, because the storm had finally unleashed itself and those big, heavy drops pouring down were starting to hurt like hell.

"Come on," Aaron said, grabbing Micah's hand and holding on even when he resisted.

"No! God damnit, I'm not done! I'm not fucking done! I want him to hear me! I want him to listen and stop letting people get hurt for no good god damned reason! It isn't right! It isn't fuckin' right!"

Micah was sobbing again, so Aaron yanked him into a hug and spoke into his ear, hoping to get through to him.

"Staying out here won't make it right either," Aaron said over the storm. "Nothing will! But maybe we can give the world a few more songs to help people get through it better and maybe someday, somewhere we reach someone just like us and show them that they can have whatever future they want as long as they're willing to fight for it hard enough!"

Micah let out a snarled scream and hugged Aaron tighter, but at least he stopped resisting Aaron's efforts to move them back towards the path. Branches whipped at them, leaves lashed at their faces, the rain pelted them, and they slipped, slid and tumbled on their way back down the hill, but they made it through the doors, spilling muddy and dripping into the kitchen to see four anxious faces.

"What the fuck happened to you two?" Kelly asked, not that either could answer with how much they were shivering and gulping in air. In the chaos of it all, he and Micah locked gazes and Aaron was willing to bet his eyes were as red as Micah's were.

"Thank you," Micah wheezed, rubbing his shoulder where his shirt was torn. The flesh beneath was bruised from where one of the branches had caught him.

"You good?" Aaron gasped as water dripped down his face.

"No…but because of you I will be," Micah managed.

Slowly they caught their breath, while Aaron heard Kelly on his phone, telling Hawk they were there and looked to be okay.

Okay was stretching it…but in time Aaron they'd get there, together…the family they'd chosen for themselves…the only family that truly, truly mattered.