'I said chicken.'

Ste wasn't listening. His head was too full of Brendan, worrying about him, wondering where he was, why hadn't he called yet. He checked his mobile for the hundredth time in a minute; still nothing.

'Excuse me!'

The woman he was serving would have seemed angry if Ste could possibly have gathered up the energy to glance at her. He didn't. He just put a second ham Panini next to the first one on the counter and held out his spare hand for the money. He still didn't look up. If she robbed him blind right now, he wouldn't be able to pick her out in a line up. He would, however, be able to give a very detailed description of his last texts from Brendan, as well as the exact times of the calls on his his "incoming call log". He just kept checking through them in case a call or a text snuck through somehow without him realising.

It was a while before he noticed that his hand was still extended, waiting for payment. When he did finally give her the attention she was craving, he noticed she was red-faced and ranting. Funny, he didn't even know she was making a noise.

'What!' he demanded, more aggressively that he probably should have.

'Oh,' she huffed, straightening the collar of her coat like the self-important snob she clearly was. 'There's a fine attitude. I won't be coming here again, that's for sure.'

'Good,' Ste shrugged. 'Wouldn't want you back anyway.' Customers, business, money; it didn't matter, not if Brendan was…. He shook his head clear of those thoughts and glanced meaningfully to the forgotten Paninis:

'You're still paying for those.'

'I am not,' she was furious. It was obvious from her clenched jaw, but she still didn't raise her voice. 'I didn't order that, I ordered chicken.'

'Argh,' Ste practically exploded. 'Chicken, ham. Does it really matter, really?'

'It's what I ordered.'

'What you don't seem to get, right, is that I don't really care what you ordered.'

There was a pause, they both sort of glared at each other.

'You ought to be sacked,' she whispered. Then louder: 'I want to see the manager.'

'Yeah, well…' Ste felt quite smug now. 'You're looking at him.'

She was horrified and he was quite enjoying her disgust. He'd already lost this customer, he might as well have fun with it.

'So, you gonna pay for that,' he gave the Panini a flick with his middle finger, 'or are you just gonna leave?'

She was too angry to speak, that was obvious from the way she kept opening her mouth and leaning forward as though to scream before falling back onto her heals and closing her mouth again. Ste turned his back on her weird display, it was reminding him a bit of Brendan. The way he was when he really wanted to say "I love you" in the middle of a fight and was scared Ste wouldn't say it back.

Eventually, he heard the faint clicking of her heels across his lino floor and the bell of the door opening. Good she was leaving. Then he heard her stop, he heard her make a stifled cry of disgust.

'What is wrong with this place?' she asked nobody. 'Shoddy customer service and now a drunk stumbling about in the middle of the road.'

Ste span around. He was ready to tell her where to go, not because he was offended but because he was fed-up and terrified and angry and he needed to let off steam and he hadn't seen another person for over an hour, despite the police buzzing around. But all his anger died on his tongue, to be replaced by one thing, one thought, one word:

'Brendan,' he whispered. Then louder: 'Brendan!'

He ran towards the man, shoving the irritating customer out of his way so hard that she almost landed on the deli's complimentary sofa.

'Brendan,' he yelled again, racing over and throwing his arms around the older man. Brendan seemed dazed; stumbling like a drunk, muttering like a crazy man but he was neither. Ste felt big arms go around him holding him tightly and the both sank uncertainly to the floor.

Ste could feel Brendan's face buried in the crook of his neck, he could feel wet tears soaking through his shirt, but he was most aware of the muffled chant against his collarbone:

'I killed him. I killed him, Steven. I killed him.'

And all Ste could do was hold him tighter, and press butterfly kisses to the side of his lover's head and whispered:

'Shhhhh. It's okay. It's over now, everything's okay.'

'Ste, Ste.'

Ste looked up. Tony was stood watching him from a distance, a sad expression pulling at his face. But he wasn't the only one there. They were surrounded. It felt like the whole village was out to witness Brendan Brady at his weakest.

'What're you looking at?' Ste demanded immediately. 'Come for the show, eh? Trying to avoid your own miserable little lives?' The spectators seemed to glance around embarrassed. 'Go on,' Ste growled. 'Do one.'

He'd got used to people doing what he said when he threatened them. Being an ex-thug and young offended and now being under the constant protection of Brendan Brady had made most of the village too nervous to even look at Ste the wrong way, but he was still surprised by how quickly they moved when he told them. Though to be honest, he could only imagine what he looked like; red-faced and teary-eyed.

Brendan had once told him he was a beautiful crier. Ste hadn't really known what he'd meant but he was pretty sure he wasn't beautiful now. He was ugly and weak and all he wanted to do was hold Brendan until it was better.

'Ste,' Tony's voice was closer now and was accompanied by a hand on his shoulder. 'Why don't you take him into the club?'

'Yeah,' Ste nodded, roughly drying his cheeks with his shirt sleeve. He got to his feet, pulling Brendan with him. The older man still seemed pretty unaware of what was going on around them, he was just leaning on Ste like his life depended on him and together they hobbled awkwardly towards the club. They must have looked like wounded soldiers, which in a way they were but the war was over now. They could stop fighting.