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inthecrossfire (inthecrossfire) wrote in spinningcompass,

It wasn't that being back here was bad. Aaron had been through a fuck of a lot worse when he thought back on it; the programme, fighting for their lives, getting kidnapped and having to make his own wife fall in love with him a few times over. The last one wasn't so bad - going through the honeymoon period three times had been fantastic. But this had always happened with him; he'd get kidnapped again, then get anxious at being a plaything for a non-corporeal demon god entity thing. The lack of control would twitch at Aaron. Marta could throw herself back into her work, her research, but what did he have to regain his own version of control?

His body was the only thing he had available to stop the panic clenching his stomach. This wasn't the worst place to be, no. But it also wasn't really his. Still no choices. All he got to choose was who to love, who to protect as much as he was able.

Tonight that meant beating the ever-loving-shit out of a punching bag in the gym.

Aaron strapped his wrists, flexing his arms to work out the kinks before striking the bag in rapid successive blows. Each slam of his fists hit with a sick thud and a twinge he barely felt. Marta's meds worked well, too well if he could barely get any rip-back from the bag resisting the punch, frustration biting instead of the panic.

Suddenly his brain switched on. He could hear someone close by, unfamiliar footsteps heavy and hesitant.

"You a fighter?" he called, nonchalant. "I don't bite unless I gotta."