[April 23rd] [Perry Mason] The Prodigal

[insaneladybug.livejournal.com]

Title: The Prodigal
Day/Theme: April 23rd - You'll know it's me
Series: Perry Mason (based on The Decadent Dean)
Character/Pairing: Aaron Stuart, Marian Stuart, Tobin Wade
Rating: K/G

This is a continuation of a piece I wrote a while back involving Marian and Tobin. Tobin is an absolute slimeball in the episode, but since I really believe he was once a true friend, I couldn't help wanting to tinker with things and see if I could set things right.


By Lucky_Ladybug

Marian was alternately excited and nervous the rest of the evening.

Tobin was alive. More than that, he had come back to himself. He was, as far as Marian was concerned, the old friend with whom she and Aaron had sworn their oath.

Friends to the bitter end. . . .

And yet, he wasn’t that man, either. He was older, wiser, and sadder. He had committed outrageous crimes against his friends and now regretted it deeply.

What was Aaron going to say?

Both he and Marian had been grievously betrayed, but while Marian had managed to forgive Tobin for at least some of the anguish, Aaron had not forgiven any of it. He had tried to push it aside altogether and never think of it again, but that hadn’t really worked. There were times when Aaron grew distant or when he mumbled in his sleep and Marian knew the memory of Tobin’s behavior still haunted him.

The one bright spot he’d had was that he believed Tobin could never do anything more to hurt him. Now, to know that Tobin was really alive, he would not be able to believe that Tobin had changed. He would start to worry all over again.

Maybe the best thing to do was not to say anything at all, at least for now. Maybe with more time, she could better determine what to say and how to say it.

But Aaron was not fooled. Even though he came home occupied and talking with enthusiasm about the new school, and even though Marian tried to push her worries aside and be excited too, he could still tell that she was not entirely there.

“Marian, what’s wrong?” he frowned at length.

“Wrong?” She tried to smile. “Why, nothing’s wrong, Aaron. It’s just been a long day.”

“Yes, and something obviously happened in that long day,” Aaron countered. “You’re upset.”

“I’m really not,” she stammered.

But she sighed and looked down at her plate. It was no use. She could not put it off any longer, even though she wished she could.

“. . . Aaron . . . I . . . saw Tobin again,” she finally said.

Aaron’s fork clattered. “Marian, you’re not going to start that again!”

“It’s the truth, Aaron,” Marian insisted. “I’m not hallucinating—I really saw him!”

Aaron’s fist clenched on the table. “Alright, suppose you did see him. Did he say anything to you?”

“Yes, he did.” Marian looked him firmly in the eyes. “He’s sorry for what he did. He’s not the same man who betrayed us, Aaron.”

“You talk like he’s still alive,” Aaron growled. “For Heaven’s sake, Marian! Tobin Wade is dead and gone. And good riddance to him!”

Marian looked down. “He isn’t dead.”

Aaron froze. “What?! Marian, what kind of nonsense . . .”

“It’s not nonsense, Aaron. He came back to life. He thought maybe that was his punishment for pretending to be dead before.” Marian swallowed hard. “I don’t know, though. I think maybe it was a blessing, a gift, a chance to try to make up for his wrongdoings that not everyone is given.”

“Oh, and I suppose he gave you his new address too?” Aaron said dryly.

“No, he didn’t.” Marian looked to her husband once more. “He thought it was better if we didn’t know where he is.”

Aaron nodded, knowingly. “So he can sneak up on us some night and . . .”

“No, Aaron!” Marian laid a desperate hand over his clenched fist. “He felt that we shouldn’t have any contact with him at all, because he feels so horrible about what he did to us. He didn’t come here trying to get in touch with us.” She averted her gaze. “I think . . . I think he just felt lonely and sad.”

“That serves him right,” Aaron muttered.

“Maybe it does,” Marian agreed, “but when I saw him, Aaron, and I saw shades of our old friend still there, I . . . I wished that we could all be together once more.”

“Well, we never can be, thanks to him.” Aaron started to push back his chair. “I won’t forgive him, Marian. I can’t. Not for what he did to you. And not for what he did to me, either.”

Marian stood. “I know it sounds impossible to do,” she said. “I haven’t forgiven him for what he did to you! But when I see how it’s still eating you up inside, Aaron, I don’t know how to stand it! Maybe if you saw him again, if you could talk to him like I did, you could at least find it in you to start to forgive. And then maybe you could start to be happy again!”

“I am happy, Marian,” Aaron retorted as he also got up. “We have our new school. We have our renewed life together. And we don’t have a back-stabbing assistant dean masquerading as our best friend!”

“What we don’t have,” Marian said, softly and sadly, “is our best friend.”

Aaron’s eyes burned. Getting up from the table, he stormed outside and slammed the door.

Marian flinched. Folding her arms on the table, she sobbed and prayed.
****
Aaron stormed down the streets aimlessly, not thinking about where he was going and not particularly caring, either. His mind and heart were filled with turmoil, the confused thoughts and feelings about what Marian had said.

About Tobin being alive again.

About the idea that he had changed.

No, no, no. It was too impossible.

He paused, frowning. What was too impossible—that he was alive or that he could have changed? That should be an easy enough question to answer, but when Tobin had lied to him to varying extents for over two years, suddenly Aaron was not sure what was the hardest thing to believe.

But . . . Tobin had been a true friend once, hadn’t he?

Aaron really thought so. That was part of what made his betrayal all the worse.

Still, if he was going to believe that, then the idea followed that Tobin had changed from friend to enemy. Couldn’t he then also change back again?

Oh, he didn’t know. How could he ever trust Tobin? How could he ever forgive him, either?

He ran a hand through his thinning hair as he resumed his trudging pace down the street.

He still remembered that horrible night on the bluff as though it happened this night—Tobin so smooth and cheerful, denying the accusation that he had deliberately got Marian drunk, pretending to fall when Aaron got so upset he shoved him. . . . Throwing a dummy into the water to make Aaron think he was dead and that Aaron was responsible. . . .

Even knowing what Tobin had done to Marian, some part of Aaron had still cared about the friend Tobin had been. And even without that, he was incapable of purposely murdering anyone. He had not been able to bear the thought that he had caused the death of anyone, even someone as treacherous as Tobin had become. He had wondered how he would ever atone for such a thing.

How could a monster like Tobin have been brought back to life? And if he had sunk that far down in his morals, how could he ever possibly change back?

Aaron’s strength was gone. He sank onto a bench, slumping forward with his hands supporting his head.

For a long time he simply sat there, not knowing what to do or what to even think. But then, as the nearby sounds of a car garage began to penetrate his senses, he looked up. It was late for a service station to be open. It had already been dark for some time now that it was autumn. And he had been late getting home for dinner, too.

Somewhat curious, he stood and wandered to the open doorway, not really sure what was drawing him to such a common and generally unexciting place. There was only one mechanic there, working steadfastly under an open hood that shadowed his face. But he was tall, with dark hair. Aaron could see that much.

And the worker was apparently aware of him. “I’ll be with you in a minute,” he said.

Aaron froze, all semblance of color draining from his face. He knew that voice. “Tobin?” he choked out, scarcely above a whisper.

The wrench dropped. The mechanic barely noticed, springing upright so fast that he banged his hand on the open hood. “Ow!” he hissed. A hand flew to the spot as he slipped out from under the offending metal, turning to face Aaron.

His nametag read David. But it was Tobin; Aaron would know him anywhere. Older, wiser, sadder, and at the moment somewhat greasy, but always recognizable.

“Tobin, what are you doing here?” Aaron rasped. It didn’t make sense. He had assumed that Tobin had settled into a much cushier job than assistant dean of a small prep school. But instead he was here, at the bottom of the barrel, working as an auto mechanic.

“I . . .” Tobin swallowed hard. “My name is David.” He wiped his hands and face on a nearby cloth. His eyes screamed for the forgiveness for which he would never ask aloud.

Aaron shook his head. “Maybe that’s what you’re calling yourself, but you’re Tobin. Don’t you think I’d recognize you after . . .” But he trailed off, unable to finish. He was being overwhelmed by his emotions.

“I broke my oath and betrayed my friends.” The anguish and sorrow in Tobin’s voice was obvious. “They thought I was dead. And I was, for a time. I came here to work under an assumed name. I didn’t want them to know I was alive. I’d hurt them enough.”

Aaron finally found his voice again. “You . . . you didn’t think they might want to know?”

“I didn’t see how they could ever want me back. I could never ask, could never presume on them like that. Not after what I’d done to them.” Tobin finally set the cloth aside.

“And exactly what good are you doing here?” Aaron exclaimed.

“Keeping out of their way. . . . Not allowing myself to have enough money to get greedy. . . .” Tobin wouldn’t meet Aaron’s eyes.

“Well, you shouldn’t have it, if you can never resist having more,” Aaron grumbled.

“I hope that I can,” Tobin said in all honesty. “I won’t know for certain until I’m faced with gaining a large amount of money again.” He heaved a deep sigh. “Right now I . . . I’m not brave enough to try moving up.”

“You were brave enough to go out to the house and see Marian,” Aaron retorted. “Why, Tobin, if you truly felt you had to stay away?!”

Tobin looked away, guiltily. “I thought you were both . . . away,” he said in all awkwardness. “I go out to the house a lot, but never to try to find either of you. Or at least, not consciously. I . . . I go there to think, for the most part.”

“To think?” Aaron exclaimed in disbelief.

“To reflect . . . to regret. . . .” Tobin shook his head. “To wonder how you’re both getting by. I always come to the same conclusion—that you’re better off without me there.”

“Marian doesn’t think so,” Aaron grunted.

“I know.” Tobin hesitated, finally turning back to face Aaron again. “What do you think?”

Aaron did not like having the question come point-blank at him. “Oh, Tobin, I don’t know!” he cried, throwing his hands in the air.

He turned half-away, resting a hand on the edge of a workbench. “Part of me feels as you do. Or at least, I want to feel that way. I want to scream at you to stay away, to never come back, that you’ve caused us enough heartache.

“But another part of me wants to believe that you’ve changed back, that you’re the friend Marian and I grew old with.” His voice cracked. “That part wants to embrace you, to tell you to stay, to even say I . . . I’ll try to forgive you.”

Tobin swallowed hard. “. . . And which part do you think you’ll listen to?”

He wanted to come home, to have his friends back, to be a whole person again . . . but he would never say it.

“I haven’t decided yet,” Aaron answered. “I don’t know if I can decide very easily. I might have to think about it for a long time. A very long time.”

But he would not be able to bear having this go on for a very long time. Not when it had been tearing him up inside for years. Not when an ending and a resolution were actually in sight.

An ending and a resolution that he never could have dreamed of. . . .

“Tobin . . .” Aaron drew a deep, shuddering breath. He took a step back to look at his old friend. “I . . . I want to forgive you,” he said. “I don’t know if I can, but I want to. Marian was right; she’s always right. I have been letting this eat me up inside. I don’t want it to be a burden anymore.”

Tobin stared at him. “I can’t ask for your friendship, Aaron, but . . .”

“Maybe someday,” Aaron interrupted. “Maybe I’ll feel enough at peace someday that we can try again. Marian wants to. And I . . .” He threw his hands in the air and then let them drop. “I don’t know. For now, I really should leave. I have to take the time to process all of this. . . .”

But even as he turned, something held him back. He should not go, not like this.

“Tobin . . .” His voice was strained. “I’ve missed you.”

“I . . . I’ve missed you too,” Tobin stammered, clearly stunned by Aaron’s admission. “Aaron, I’m so sorry for what I’ve done. I know it sounds hollow and insufficient, but it’s the truth, just as I told Marian. I’ll never stop paying for what I did. I don’t know how I could.”

Aaron turned back, shaken and moved by Tobin’s words. “I don’t know how you could, either,” he managed to say. “But if you’re sorry, Tobin, truly sorry . . .” He shook his head. “That’s more than I ever could have hoped for.”

“I’m telling the truth, Aaron,” Tobin said. And from the anguish in his eyes, Aaron knew it was real.

“. . . We’ll shake on it,” he decided. “A goal to work towards.”

Tobin looked down at his hands. “I don’t think I’ve got all the grease off . . .”

“Oh, nevermind the grease.” Aaron held out his hand.

But as Tobin hesitantly took it, all of Aaron’s logical and academic arguments fell away. He was grasping the hand of his dearest friend, a friend he thought he had lost to greed and betrayal as well as to death. And now Tobin was alive and restored to himself.

Aaron pulled him into a firm embrace. Stunned, Tobin stood for a moment, unsure what to make of it. But then, slowly and then desperately, he clutched at Aaron in return.

There would still be rough patches on their road, but they were reunited.