Still writing all my other fics but this was something that I'd promised Alys, so hunni, this one's for you ;) Will have a few chapters.

His heart is racing a mile a minute as he looks over at the man sleeping next to him. Brendan went out like a light, as though with Ste beside him he's finally been able to sleep peacefully for the first time in years. But Ste, well Ste hasn't slept a wink.

They're in one of the new apartment blocks in town that Brendan's renting. The long corridors and plain walls remind Ste of the generic hotels that he and Brendan used to spend the night in while they were still having to hide from the world. Part of him wonders whether he'd rather be in that predicament right now, as fucked up as it sounds, even with Brendan beating him up back then, he still had a warped sense of where he stood, whereas now, now, he doesn't even know what this is.

The warmth coming from Brendan's sleeping form is enticing, the sound of his heavy breathing comforting almost. Ste was beginning to forget what it felt like to share a bed, to fall asleep and wake up with the same person beside you. There'd been the odd drunken one night stands since Brendan, ones that he would cry about the next day, but he'd never let them stay the night. He made the mistake once, too tired to care, but when the lanky Scot woke him padding around the room in Brendan's dressing gown 'I was cold' he'd said, Ste kicked off with an anger he didn't even know he possessed. It was like all of the hurt and stress was suddenly pouring out of him. The guy called him a psycho and left as quickly as he could put his clothes back on. Ste slammed the door behind him, sliding down it's frame, body wracking with silent sobs. He'd hit the bottle that night, trying to think of every reason he could make it his fault that Brendan left.

Torn between the urge to run, or to curl up to Brendan and never let him go, Ste ended up sliding out of the bed, careful not to disturb the sleeping Irishman. The wooden laminate was cold on his bare feet as he walked through to the living area. It was still dark out, but the early morning light trying to break through created a sapphire glow. He didn't bother to turn the lights on, embracing the peace to be alone with his thoughts. Could he really go back there? He knew they would never quite fit in to the category of "normal" couple, but in some ways he liked that about them. Normal was boring quite frankly, and if their problems weren't destroying them, then it was only making them stronger. Last night was proof of that, he'd never felt a connection as powerful.

He'd received a phone call from Cheryl a few weeks back, informing him of Brendan's impending release. They'd both ended up crying down the phone to each other, Ste spitting out hurtful words before immediately apologising and taking them back. She didn't blame him though, no one would. She even told Ste she deserved it, for 'what I did' she'd said.

She gave him all the details, if he wanted to be there, wanted to welcome Brendan with open arms or stand there demanding answers. He chose to do neither, chose to stay at home, reading about it in the Chester Herald before ripping it in to tiny pieces. He called in sick to work the next day, Tony knew why, had read about it himself. Thankfully he knew not to probe, just let Ste know that he was there if he needed him. Putting down his mobile he crawled under the duvet, hiding from the world. It wasn't long though before he was pulling out a box from the top of the wardrobe, silent forces propelling his actions. The frame was a bit dusty now, had been years since it was on display, pride of place. Ste made marks in the dust with his thumbs, brushing it to the edge. They looked so happy, as content as they'd ever be. He found himself letting out a sigh, silent tears tracking his cheeks. He'd told him before hadn't he, that he wouldn't give up on him? He'd never given up on him if truth be told, even now. Part of him had been waiting for this moment, ever since that nightmare of a day, so why was he trying to fight it so much now? Was it his pride? There used to be a time when he thought he didn't have any left.

Photo still clutched firmly in hand he'd texted Cheryl, knew he'd be with her, I mean, he'd chosen her over him hadn't he? Of course he'd be with her.

'I think I'm ready.'

Is what the message had read, short and straight to the point. He didn't think he'd ever truly be ready for this, but she'd know what it means. That's why he wasn't surprised when the next morning he'd heard that gruff Irish voice down the phone.

He'd literally stopped breathing for a few seconds, and if the Irishman's following silence was anything to go by, Ste was sure Brendan had had the same reaction.

'I don't really know what you expect me to say.'

Ste's voice was practically a whisper, too wrung with emotion.

'Guess I could say the same' was the response he got.

'But….but I'm sorry Steven, really, really I am sorry. I love you, so so much. Jeez! I'm so sorry!'

'Steven?…..Steven you still there?'

He couldn't muster up a response, tears stinging his eyes.

'Look, I wanna see ye ok? I, I'll get the next flight to Manchester.'

After a long pause he continued, Ste had missed that voice.

'I know you probably hate me Steven and that's, that's ok, and I know I'm being selfish, after everything I've done, everything I've put you through. But I have to see you….even if it's for the last time.'

He could barely choke out those final words.

'What if I don't wanna see you aye?' Ste finally managed to reply, couldn't hide the bitterness that now laced his words.

'I expected you to react like this.'

Brendan suddenly sounded cold and detached.

'I'll still come though.'

Ste hated the burst of hope that he suddenly felt at those words, Brendan was going to fight for him, and Ste was probably going to let him.