A.N. So these days my main focus is with Glee's Kurt and Blaine, but I have been convinced by my friend April to write about our favourite Hollyoak's on-off couple, Ste and Brendan. Their relationship is complex to say the least, especially when the show's writers continue to change their attitudes towards each other and end each metaphorical statement with a period in the form of Brendan punching Ste. This is my first 'Stendan' fic, and it's a little different from my normal writing style. I'm also not used to writing in present tense so sorry if I've messed up anywhere.

Plot: Ste has had enough of suffering at the hands of Brendan and decides to go up north to escape his abuse and control. As he tries to sneak off, he reminds himself why all of this is necessary.

Escape

I'm not sure how I managed it, but I did. I came to the decision without him knowing, I booked my train tickets without him knowing, and I had packed my bags without him knowing. Now all I had to do was get the hell out of here – without him knowing. Only then could I say goodbye to Brendan Brady forever.

Where am I going, you ask? Somewhere up north. No, I can't afford to leave the UK just yet. Anyway why would I want to? My kids are here. In fact, I'm actually going to be moving closer to them. You see, Amy moved herself, Leah and Lucas up to her grandparents' home in Scotland about four months ago but I stayed at home in Hollyoaks. I have a job here, and friends. Fine, fine, I won't lie. I stayed because of him.

I stayed because he told me to. He said we could be together – properly this time, not like before when he was too much of a self-hating tool to be seen with me in public. No, he assured me I'd be staying to be in a proper loving relationship. I should have known back then how ridiculous the idea was, but I was in love, you see? After all, it seemed that there were no more problems to overcome. His ex-wife had agreed to let him see the kids as long as he didn't say or do anything inappropriate when they were there. His kids weren't an issue either. Declan even liked me, and I liked him so it was another step towards happy families. Cheryl, of course, being Cheryl, was just so happy that Brendan had finally 'embraced who he is'. And she had every right to be happy. Her brother was no longer ashamed and almost seemed to find it empowering. Just like him to gain power through sexual preference, though, isn't it? But none of that mattered to me. What mattered was that he loved me and I loved him, and that he was ready to take our relationship seriously and treat me right.

That was four months ago. Maybe if I'd not been such a love-struck idiot about it, I might have taken up Amy's offer to leave with her. I love my kids, he knows that. Why didn't I insist on going with them? It wouldn't have ended well but at least it would have ended without violence. Oh, don't you get it? Yeah, he lied. Not everything changed. In fact, on some levels they got so much worse. I'm not Ste Hay anymore. I'm Stephen, punching bag and property of Brendan Brady. He might as well have branded me on my arse as his, not that he wouldn't if the thought ever occurred to him.

I carefully and quietly lifted my luggage bag onto the pavement and locked my front door behind me. I don't know why but part of me was worried he'd suddenly appear. He does that. It's like his signature magic trick – appearing out of thin air when you least expect it. Well, I was expecting anything. I am going to stay on guard until I'm on that train for Edinburgh. Even then, I bet I won't relax. Even when I'm in my new bed up at Amy's I won't feel safe. This is what he's done to me. I carry my things through the streets towards the centre of the village. I don't pass a soul. Then again, it was just after seven am on a Sunday – everyone will still be in bed. Everyone, including Mr Brady. That's what I'm counting on, at least, but he is a surprising man so I was still cautiously taking corners and looking around as I head towards the bus stop.

First it would be the 07.14 bus service to Chester, via Hollyoaks railway station, then onto the 07.45 train to Edinburgh, arriving around eleven am with just enough time to get on the next train to – I can't tell you where. I haven't told anyone where I'm going, or that I'm going anywhere at all. I'll contact my landlord tomorrow and I'll e mail Cheryl later to tell her I'm not coming back to work at Chez Chez. I'm hoping she understands. I think she will.

I don't know why, but I pause as I am about to pass my work. The Loft, it used to be called. I liked hanging out there as a teenager, even when I was tossed out for being underage. I remember being so smug when I got in legally for the first time. I don't remember much of that night; I got so drunk I managed to get myself down in the cellar in amongst all the racks of alcohol. Waking to that was the oddest feeling I ever had. After sneaking a few bottles under my shirt, I left peacefully. I remember Cheryl being both impressed and confused when I knew where the cellar was on my first shift. She said she was glad I was a fast learner. I didn't tell her the truth. I'm not that type of person anymore so why ruin my currently decent reputation? As I look now, though, I'm now reminded of last month. Some guy bought me a drink and wrote his number on one of the bar napkins. Before I had a chance to reject it, the guy was literally kicked outside and threatened to never come near me again. I tried to calm Brendan down – I had no interest in anyone other than him! – But clearly I was too late in his mind. He had to take me to the hospital a few hours later when it became apparent that he had broken a few ribs and the bleeding wouldn't stop. He didn't apologise. I remember that most of all.

I'm rambling, sorry. I look up at the club sadly, telling myself I should take a mental picture now since I won't be coming back. Then I remember I need to catch a bus. I hurry off, knowing that if I miss this one it's a whole hour until the next. I couldn't risk holding off an hour.

I then see Cheryl's home. I have to call it that, because admitting that it is also where Brendan lives is too scary for me right now. That's where it all started, you see. We got drunk and kissed. It was the first time I'd kissed a guy, but not him; he'd done it before. He made me feel awful about it though. He can do that, you see. He can make you feel things you shouldn't. He can make you feel ashamed and fearful, then fully secure before delivering a final blow. He likes to cradle then drop you. He enjoys watching you cry.

I try not to stare too long. In fact, I spook myself off thinking someone might look out a window and see me standing in the street, luggage in hand. That would be bad. Even Cheryl or Lynsey, who only mean well, might say out loud 'Oh look, there's Ste,' and Brendan will be out in a second to see what I'm up to. I've tried so hard over the last few days to keep cool about it all and I didn't want to wreck it now. I didn't even warn Amy I was coming in case Brendan had a tap on my phone. How crazy is that?

I step up onto the pavement. I'm only a minute or so away from the bus stop now and thankfully I've timed it perfectly. Well, I would have preferred the bus to be pulling up as I arrive but surely being a few minutes early is still pretty good. I push my bag up against the plastic window and take a seat under the shelter. I check my watch. Damn, I'm five minutes early. I sigh restlessly, and begin to fidget. I didn't like the feeling of being out in the open. From this spot I could be seen from so many places – including Chez Chez and the Brady house. There's only a few people walking around but every single movement causes my heart to beat faster. This is ridiculous. I look at the newsagents just over the road. It's empty except from the old man behind the till. I wring my hands together a few times and finally push off my seat and head across. I'll go get myself a magazine and a bottle of water. That'll keep me occupied on the train and keep me out of sight for another minute or so. I take my time wandering up and down the small narrow aisles. I pick up what I came for, along with a muffin. I don't know why I chose a muffin; I can't remember the last time I had one. I guess I was feeling daring. I try to smile as I pay, but my constant glances outside clearly show my nerves. Another check of my watch: only two minutes now. I thank the old man and open the door to leave the shop-

'Stephen, there y'are,'

My heart stops. I drop everything. I just stare, eyes wide and scared.

He is gazing at me lazily, taking in my reaction in mild interest. His mouth twitches as he bends down to collect my items. He stands up tall, making me feel like a mouse in comparison, and he examines each item in turn. 'Water, good. Some girly celebrity rubbish, bad boy. And…banana muffin?' He holds up the packaged baking in front of my eyes and pretends to look confused. 'Since when did you like them, Stephen?'

'I-I…' I force myself to blink, but I can't get anything else out of my mouth. My heart has started up again and was beating so hard and fast I was surprised the ground wasn't pounding to the beat.

Brendan ignores my stuttering and wraps an arm around my shoulders to pull me out of the shop. He leans down to my level and points across the road at my bag still leaning against the bus stop. 'Y'see, here's the t'ing.' He drawls, his cheek resting on mine. 'That to me looks like it belongs to you. That is yours, right Stephen? Well, here's me wondering what it's doing out here.' He pulls away and easily pulls me around to face him. 'Because it looks like you're going somewhere – which is stupid, seeing as ye'd tell me if you were going anywhere. Right, Stephen?'

I cringe at the way he says my name. He says it with such control. So much feeling. I used to find his voice so enthralling and sexy but now it makes me shiver in fear. He gazes at me expectantly. He won't let me stand in silence much longer; he wants me to attempt at an answer. 'I…w-was going to go up and see the k-kids.' I swallow hard.

He stares at me now. He knows the truth; I can see it in his eyes. He knows I'm running away – or trying to at least. He gives a humoured 'humph' at my response, the sides of his mouth turning up in a sort of smirk. 'Funny…I didn't get your message telling me you were going anywhere.'

'I-I was going to call you,' I say with more force. 'I only decided last night. I thought you'd appreciate the lie in, though, so I was going to wait-'

'Hmm, I see.' Brendan nodded. I've learned that when he talks, I stay absolutely quiet. 'That's…very t'oughtful of you, Stephen. I was just t'inking you might have,' he waves a hand around my head, 'I don't know, be reacting to what happened last night. No?'

I shake my head profusely, I didn't even want to think about last night. The gash on the back of my head still pounded like it had when it clashed with the brick wall just outside The Dog. 'What? N-no, not at all!' I act like the suggestion is mad. 'It's nothing to do with-'

'Because you know, Stephen, that that would be overreacting, yeah?'

'Yeah! Yes, absolutely. No, I just missed the kids so I was just going to see them for a few days-'

'A few days, yeah,' Brendan nodded along with me, but I could still see it in his eyes that he was only going along with the pretence. 'You know if there's any problem, well…' His finger loops over the zipper of my jumper and he lazily pushes it down a little. His eyes drop to look at my exposed collarbone. I swallow hard again. He looks like he's going to devour me, and I know from experience that it hurts. 'We can smooth out problems, can't we?'

I nod. 'Of course we can.' I smile at him. It's as fake as hell, but so was this conversation.

'Do Amy and the kids know you're coming?'

I shake my head, not sure why he asked. 'No, not yet, I was going to surprise-'

'Tell you what, Stephen.' He smiles back. His is an honest smile, but it was haunted with smug conceit. 'Let's get you back home. We can get you settled again, and you and I can go see the kids next week. Make a proper holiday of it. Doesn't that sound so much better? A whole week?'

To anyone else, Brendan would seem generous and forgiving with his words. But I see those eyes. I see what lies behind them. I can see betray and I tremble knowing that he was mad. He hid it so well. Now he just wanted me alone.

Behind him, I see the 07.14 bus to Chester pulling up at the shelter. I should be getting on that bus. If I tried, I could make a run for it, but I know I won't get far. Brendan was being polite, letting me keep some of my pride by agreeing to go with him instead of being dragged home by force with my belongings left abandoned in the street. I can feel myself choke with the beginnings of tears. They won't help me now. I bite my lip as I watch a couple of people get off the bus.

I feel his finger run down the side of my face, curving to my chin. He gently pushes my eyes up to meet his. 'Stephen,' He repeats, eyes burning into mine. 'Doesn't my idea sound so much better?'

I find myself nodding. 'Yeah,' My voice is broken. 'It does.'

His smile changes to a smirk and he leans down to press a dominating kiss on my lips. I let him, what else can I do? He strides across to my luggage and lifts it with one hand. I had to use two on the way here, it was so heavy. He comes back to me. I hadn't dared move. He takes my hand in his and leads me away from the main street, his grip firm and on the verge of crushing me. I'm hoping he loses some of his anger and desire to punish me during our walk home.

I finally glance over my shoulder at the bus. It was pulling away from the kerb now. I wasn't on it. My eyes squeeze shut. I had failed to escape.