Disclaimer: I don't own nothing.
Summary: Brendan comes up with an escape plan, he covers all angles but one with potentially deadly results.
Rating: M for later chapters.
Warnings: This chapter is pretty / very miserable. Swearing. Total and utter disregard for actual procedure.
Pairings: Ste/Brendan; Danny/John-Paul
Going to have a go at a short story a few chapters (or at least that is the intention)
Ste POV
He can't believe he's here. He only did it so Danny would stop going on at him about it. Late Lunch with his Dad, he was fine with it was the irritated sitting next to his Dad he could really do without. John-Paul fucking McQueen. It makes his skin crawl.
He couldn't care less that his Dad's bi but why the fuck did he was to shack up with him of all people?
He tries to keep his head down. Tries so hard to be civil that he's nearly biting his own tongue off. Not that John-Paul's offering much in the way of conversation.
"How's the deli going?" Danny asks smiling encouragement.
"The same as it was yesterday when you asked." He sighs taking another mouthful of his pint and wishing that the food would arrive and he can get the hell out of here.
"New promotion going well?"
"Alright."
"Your conversational skills are astounding." John-Paul snips.
"Aren't they just." He gives him a twisted smile that he hopes he can read as 'fuck you'.
"Another round?"
He raises his glass at John-Paul. If he didn't have to go back to work he'd down a bottle of vodka, then maybe, just maybe this would be bearable, he doubts it. Two bottles of vodka, possibly leading to passing out, yeah that would do it.
"I don't understand why you two can't get along?" Danny sighs.
"Because I hate him." He's not denying it.
"What's he ever done to you?"
"You want a list?" He's got one, at the top being a smug arrogant prick, then into the other reasons but the top on is the one that gets at him the most.
"Ste I know that's this is difficult but I really want you two to find some common ground."
"See that over there?" He points and Danny looks. "Pig flying."
Danny shakes his head at him. He knows he's disappointing him and he doesn't want to but he can't do it. He will not be civil to John-Paul when all he does is look down his nose at him.
He finishes the last of his pint just as John-Paul puts another down in front of him. At least he's got some uses.
"Have you decided on a play yet?" John-Paul asks Danny and he tunes them out. If he wanted to hear about school he'd listen to the sixth formers that stand in the deli for an hour looking at the menu then order a muffin.
"Ste!"
The bottom drops out of his stomach and he turns on his seat.
"Declan?" He frowns at him. He hasn't seen him in, god it must have been three years at least, since he'd last been in the village staying with Brendan.
"What are you doing here?"
"I've been trying to ring you. Aunty Cheryl didn't know where you were living but she said you were still in the village." Declan rushes through what he's saying so fast it takes him a few seconds to catch up. "It's about my Da."
"Who's this?" Danny asks looking confused.
"I think its Brendan's son." John-Paul says.
"Brendan? Who's Brendan?"
He shakes their words off.
"Ste, I tried to…"
"What's happened? What's wrong?"
"We don't know how it happened, there was nothing… He was in the hospital wing a few days…"
He closes his eyes and wishes Declan away.
"I was coming to see him."
"He lets you visit?" Of course he lets Declan visit. Properly Cheryl as well. Not him. He tried once for a visitors order and it was rejected that was enough to tell him that Brendan was sticking to his, that's it, it's over.
"He's dead Ste."
Time freezes, he swears a bomb could go off right next to him and he wouldn't even feel it, wouldn't be moved by it. He stops breathing. He can hear his heart pounding in his ears… Louder and louder until there's black in his vision.
He inhales sharply nearly chokes on it, head already shaking. He can't be dead. He's can't be. There's no way.
"Ste?"
He pushes away from the hands that have someway found themselves attached to his body. He walks outside onto the jetty and lets himself hang over the rail, trying to catch his breath trying to control himself.
"Ste?" Danny. He can feel a hand on his back, rubbing little circles.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it to come out like that…" Declan sounds a bit panicked.
"It's alright mate, I don't think however you said it he'd take it well." John-Paul states.
He sags down onto the wood and lets his legs drop over the side holding onto the middle rail for something to cling on to.
"How?"
"We don't know. The doctors said there was natural causes."
"Natural causes? He's barely thirty-eight. No. They're wrong."
"Ste." Danny sighs sitting next to him.
"I want to see him." He has to be sure.
"I'm going to the prison now." Declan states.
"I'll drive you." Danny states immediately.
"Ste, they might not let you in." He's not next of kin. Fucking shit.
"I have to see him." He has to. He can't not.
"We'll try okay?" Danny says.
No, it's not fucking ok. Nothing is ok.
He doesn't feel his feet as he walks to the car. Everything is numb except the anger that's coiled tight around him, the only thing keeping him on his feet…
He sits in the car while Danny drives, talks to Declan, he can't register what's being said… He sits in the car while Danny and Declan talk to a prison guard. He stays in the car as Danny tells him to. He can't move away. He reaches in his pocket and twirls the necklace around his fingertips. He's never prayed before, never had faith but he's prays that this is a sick joke and it's not happening…
"They've already taken the body to a forensics lab for post mortem. The guard says they might let you in."
Post mortem. It chokes his brain. Sticks there and won't move. Post mortem.
"I need a drink." He states.
"Now is not the time Ste." Danny states.
"Just. I need a drink." He can't do this. He can't do it. "Just pull over at a shop. I need it."
"Do what he says." Declan states. "You don't understand them."
It's a scabby little off license. He gets a litre of vodka, pays and necks as much of a mouthful as he can take as he steps onto the street.
"That's not going to do you any good you know?" Danny states opening the door so he can get back in the back seat.
He takes another massive mouthful before Danny insists he puts his seatbelt on and another as they pull away from the curb.
It's not helping. Anything.
He doesn't know how Danny talks him into the morgue only that it happens and he stands outside leaning against a wooden slated wall waiting for his life to end. Waiting to be let in to see him. The body.
Declan comes out eyes red rimmed and breathing hitched and he knows, he knows that walking into that room is the worst mistake because he goes in there and it's over. Everything.
"Do you want me to come in with you?"
He shakes his head. He doesn't trust his voice.
The morgue attendant holds the door.
He can feel his heart thumping in his chest as everything tightens around it.
There's a body. On a table. White linen. A little set of flower on a table to the side. Plain walls. He looks anywhere but right at it. Anywhere will do. Anything will do right now.
The morgue attendant looks at him, he can't not nod.
His knee's buckle and the attendant pulls a chair around and under him before his legs go out completely.
"Do you want a moment alone?"
He nods. Numb. Shaking. He hears the door go.
His heart is pumping so fast, his stomach feels like it in his throat. He's not ready for this. He'd never be ready. He feels his eyes burning. His hands shake in his lap.
He bites his lip so hard it's bleeding and stands. His entire body shaking. Stands and looks down and the end of all hope… He swallows through his consicted throat, wipes the tears that he didn't know had started falling.
He can't… He can't look properly, his eyes glazed with tears, he wipes at them furiously. He needs to see him properly.
He wants to talk to him. Make him wake up but he's so pale, lips tinged blue surrounded by his beard. He looks like he's sleeping except he doesn't. Peaceful maybe. Too still to be sleeping.
He makes himself take a couple of breaths. Tries to find some way of speaking but there's nothing to say. Nothing he can say to make this right. He chokes a little and reaches into his pocket, pulling out the necklace that he had given to him in the hospital, his necklace. The physical part of him that he carried around everyday in his pocket because it made him feel closer to him. He wipes at his face, his running nose, tries to wipe away the tears as he places it on the nip of his throat leans forward and kisses his cold forehead… He chokes, runs his fingers through his hair. Kisses him again. Bottom lip trembling, tears falling.
He wants to say goodbye but he can't, he wants to say I love you but what would it mean. He's dead. He's not there to hear it.
"Finished?"
He shakes his head. How can he ever be finished?
He tries to walk and his legs won't carry him. Danny rushes into the room and pushes him into his chest before he collapses to the floor. He grips his fingers into his jacket and Danny half walk half carries him out into the corridor, through the door and outside until he allowed to sink to the floor. He cries into Danny's jacket and clings on for dear life, choking on sobs.
It wasn't meant to end like this.