Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, they belong to Hollyoaks!
Summary: Ste learns the terrible truth about Brendan's father.
A/N: I'm hoping this will be at least two parts.
Taking The Power Back
We are what our parents make us, or so Ste had always thought. When he had gone to counselling, they'd talked at length about his relationship with his parents; mainly the abuse Terry had dished out. Thinking back on it now, it had felt good to let it out. Ste remembered many a session where he'd throw things across the room in frustration and the therapist would just sit there calmly, asking him how he was feeling. It seemed ludicrous but after several sessions, Ste could discuss his anger without the need to throw things, and it had improved from there.
During the darkest times with Brendan, Ste had often found himself wondering how a man could become filled with such self-hatred. He hated himself over Amy, no doubt about it, but there was always something underneath the surface with Brendan that Ste had never quite figured out. Of course none of it excused what he did; Ste's actions against Amy were not something he would ever forget, or talk his way out of. It happened, it was wrong. That was it.
It would be easy to abandon Brendan now, or perhaps not, going by past endeavours. But Ste still found himself drawn to him. Not only that, Brendan was changing. Ste could feel it in the way only he himself could relate to and understand. The problem was, Brendan was avoiding him. Ste hadn't thought he'd stick to his word about leaving him be, but he was.
He and Doug had split a while back. It had been a long time coming but Ste was still sad about it. He had cared about Doug, very much. But as Doug had said on the day they broke up, there was always something missing, something inside Ste that Doug would never be able to fill. It wasn't his fault, they just weren't right for each other. Not in this lifetime.
Ste had thought that Brendan would approach him once he was single again but he hadn't. Worse still, Ste felt as though something very significant was going on that he was excluded from. There was an older man leaving the Brady's frequently. He must be staying there, and Ste wanted to know who he was.
It was only when by chance he bumped into Cheryl in the village did he get the opportunity to find out.
"It's my Da" she said with a small smile. "He's come to visit!"
Ste felt the blood draining out of his face. Cheryl frowned at him in concern, asking if he was alright. All Ste could think about was what Brendan had once told him outside the police station, about his Dad picking fights with him and calling him every homophobic name under the sun.
"Yeah I'm fine. Just surprised"
"So were we" Cheryl's face pinched then. "I'm getting along with Brendan for Da's sake. It's not easy"
"Hasn't he suffered enough, Cheryl?" Ste blurted out angrily. He didn't know where the anger had come from, only that the idea of Brendan's father being around made Ste sick with worry. Not to mention the feelings it provoked about Terry.
"Ste!" Cheryl was shocked and a little hurt. "What's gotten into you?"
"I'm sorry, ignore me" Ste shuffled away from her, his thoughts darkening with each step.
A few days later, he saw Brendan and his father walking through the village. Gritting his teeth, Ste made his way over there. He was going to introduce himself, stare this man in the eye. Brendan saw him straight away, his expression flashing with panic before he composed himself.
"Steven" he said curtly. "Can I help ye?"
Now Ste was in front of them, he felt his resolve beginning to diminish. Mr Brady was a very powerful man. He didn't exude the same kind of power Brendan did; his rippled at the edges, cut at you like a knife. Brendan's drew you in like a magnet, Mr Brady's made you want to run away and never look back. Ste gulped, feeling two pairs of eyes on him, oddly identical.
"I just wondered where you were" Ste said lamely. Mr Brady looked at him carefully.
"And you are?" His voice was like velvet. Ste felt himself shudder.
"Ex-employee" Brendan said quickly.
"Right" Mr Brady said, scrutinising his son. "Is that all?"
"Yes" Brendan said, his face expressionless. "We have things to be doing, Steven" he said, his voice cold. If Ste didn't know him as well as he did, he'd think he was giving him the brush off. But Ste could feel the edge to Brendan's tone, the almost pleading nature of it. Ste had been mistaken to approach them, he realised that now.
"No worries" Ste shrugged, feigning indifference. He walked away quickly, feeling the two pairs of eyes burning into the back of his head.
Xxx
Brendan sat at the bar, whiskey in hand. His father was on the phone to someone and even when he was out of the room, Brendan couldn't relax. He was fighting every impulse to stay seated, and his hand shook around his glass.
Even in the face of such despair, Brendan felt himself yearn for something, or more specifically, someone.
Seeing Steven today had been a surprise. Brendan had been keeping his distance for weeks, even after he and Douglas had split up. It wasn't because Brendan didn't care, but because he didn't trust himself. The way Steven had been behaving around him recently had stirred long buried feelings inside of him that had never truly gone away.
When Brendan had accepted his sexuality, he'd slowly began to accept his love for Steven. Now he was simply denying himself what he wanted. Seeing his father again had only heightened that fear. Brendan didn't even know if he could ever give Ste what he truly deserved. He often wondered if he was damaged beyond repair, and after Lynsey's death and what he'd faced at the beach house, Brendan simply didn't know a way back.
His father emerged from his office, his face all hard lines, unrelenting. Brendan could never look him in the eye, he often spoke to his shoes, even as a boy. Especially as a boy.
"I have to go out" his father said.
Brendan nodded, swirling the whiskey around in his glass.
"That stuff will kill ye" he said brusquely. Brendan simply shrugged.
When he was finally alone, Brendan felt his shoulders sag. He poured himself another whiskey and laid down on the sofa, closing his eyes. He hadn't slept since his father had arrived. He spent his nights staring at his bedroom door, which was locked, and clutching his baseball bat beneath the covers. He didn't know what he expected, his father never came to his door. Brendan often dwelled on the thought that his adulthood made a difference, and the fact he was broader and taller than his father now. Regardless, size didn't really matter. Brendan still felt like that frightened little boy every time he saw him, and he knew that would never change.
He was broken from his thoughts by footsteps on the stairs. He tensed immediately, rising to a seated position.
"Who is it?" he asked cautiously.
"It's only me" Steven poked his head around the top of the stairs. "I locked the door downstairs"
"Why?" Brendan rose from his seat, taking several steps back.
"I need to talk to you, alone" Steven approached him slowly, like Brendan was a startled animal. "Your father, right?"
"Yes" Brendan said, his throat already beginning to constrict.
"What's he doing here?"
"Passing through on business" Brendan replied automatically. "Wanted to stop by, see the family" Brendan felt the bile rise in his throat at that word. Family.
"Why didn't you tell him to get lost?" Steven asked, perching himself on a chair.
Brendan shrugged. "Why would I?"
Steven stared at him with narrowed eyes. "Have you forgotten what you told me?"
Brendan's mind went completely blank. "Yes"
Steven sighed. "He beat you"
Brendan nodded, feeling outside his own body. He only remembered what he told Walker, the shame of such an act haunting him to this very moment.
Steven continued to stare at him. "There's more, isn't there?"
Brendan felt himself let out a breath, almost a laugh. He sounded hysterical.
"You're scaring me, Brendan" Steven said truthfully.
Brendan looked at him then. "Ye should go"
"I can't" Steven looked away, unsure of himself. "I still care about you, Brendan. I don't like seeing you like this"
"I'm fine" Brendan lied.
"Do you know that you're shaking?" Steven looked at him sharply. "Like, all over? You dropped your glass about a minute ago and you haven't even noticed yet"
Brendan glanced down dumbly at the shattered shards of glass on the floor. "Oh" he said simply, bending down to pick them up. He cut himself almost immediately.
"Brendan!" Steven leapt to his feet, kneeling beside him. "It's really gushing" Steven looked around, before going to the office and bringing the first aid kit back with him. Brendan was staring at his hand, the blood trickling down from his finger, over his palm, and making a puddle on the floor.
"Just blood" Brendan said numbly, his vision beginning to darken. "Seen enough…"
The next thing he knew, he was propped up against the sofa with Steven's jacket across his chest. Brendan blinked several times, disoriented.
"What's going on, Brendan?" Steven asked quietly. He was so close, Brendan could smell his deodorant, could see the fine hairs above his lip. Brendan's eyes rolled, trying to focus.
"Haven't slept in a while" he said, his voice slurred. "Did I just sleep?"
"You passed out" Steven told him. "What on earth is it, Brendan? Please tell me"
Brendan shook his head. "Can't"
"You have to" Steven was cradling his face. "I'm worried about you"
Brendan laughed then, it sounded so hollow to his ears.
"Ye need to get away from me, I'm no good" Brendan closed his eyes. Feeling Steven's hand on his face felt wonderful, in spite of everything.
"Stop that" Steven said sharply. Brendan felt some movement around his wrist. Steven was bandaging his finger. He could feel his touch on his palm, it almost tickled. "Is it him?"
Brendan found himself nodding. Maybe the blood loss was making him delusional, who could say.
"He's done terrible things" Brendan whispered confidentially. "Terrible"
"Worse than us?" Steven stopped bandaging then, his blue eyes fixed on Brendan's face.
"Much, much worse" Brendan closed his eyes again. The whiskey and the blood and Steven's presence forcing his mind into submission.
"Tell me" Steven took his undamaged hand and held it tightly. "I can help you"
"Ye can't" Brendan breathed, his voice raspy. "No one can"
"You have to let me try"
"Forget it, please…"
"Who else have you got, Brendan? Let me help you"
There was a thump downstairs and Brendan's entire body froze.
"I smell smoke" he said, jumping to his feet. Steven sprang after him, alarmed.
"You'll pass out again!"
Brendan stumbled into his office, locating the smell. It was a cigarette, left on the side.
"No no no no no" Brendan clutched his head. "He's coming back for me. No no no no no"
"Brendan!" Steven tried to grab him but Brendan flinched away.
"He's coming, Steven. Ye have to leave! I won't let him have ye, no. Please, ye have to go!"
"No one's coming, Brendan! They're doing some work outside, that's what the thump was"
"Ye sure?" Brendan stared at him with wild eyes. "Please tell me ye are sure"
"I'm positive" Steven said calmly, taking Brendan by the shoulders. "Please sit down"
Brendan nodded, his whole body feeling numb again. "I'm sorry"
Steven looked startled. He knelt in front of him, taking his hand once more. "Brendan, you need to tell me what it is"
"Okay" Brendan didn't even know what he was agreeing to.
Steven pulled a chair over, sitting opposite him. "Start from the beginning"
Brendan shook his head, unable to find the words.
"Cheryl said you went to the beach house" Steven spoke carefully, noting when Brendan flinched. "Something happened at the beach house?"
"I was superman" Brendan said quietly.
"Okay…" Steven said, sceptical but kind. "You were young then, like me"
Brendan looked at him then, re-focusing. "Like ye?"
"When Terry started beating me" Steven said, matter-of-fact.
Brendan winced, knocking something off the table.
"Brendan, it's okay. Forget me a minute, focus"
Brendan nodded, his breathing short and sharp. He felt his stomach twist into knots.
"It wasn't just beatings" he said finally. He couldn't look at Steven.
"Not just beatings? You mean he said things to you too? Like you told me at the police station?"
"That too" Brendan agreed. "But something else… physical"
Steven frowned in confusion. He wasn't exactly quick on the uptake on the best of days. Brendan felt a wave of affection rush through him. It helped him from collapsing right there when the realisation dawned on Steven's face.
"He didn't…"
Brendan turned his face away.
"He…" Steven couldn't bring himself to say the words.
"Yes" Brendan felt the confidence returning to his voice. "Yes"
Steven doubled over, his face ghostly white. "I'm gonna be sick" he announced. Thankfully the bin was only several feet away.
Now that it was out there, Brendan felt lighter somewhat. Or perhaps he was going to pass out again, he wasn't sure. The two of them weren't exactly a good pair, Steven doubled over the bin, Brendan rubbing his back soothingly whilst trying to keep himself conscious.
"He'll be back soon" Brendan said doubtfully.
Steven looked up; his skin now with a grey twinge. "We have to get you out of here"
"What?"
"You can't go near him, Brendan. We have to go to the police"
Brendan felt himself freeze up again. "We can't"
"What are you talking about? You know what he did to you!"
"Steven, it was over twenty years ago, I have no proof. The only person who knew it even happened is gone now"
"Except me" Steven said, oddly brave even with the bin clutched in his shaking hands.
"I'm not getting ye involved. I shouldn't have even told ye"
"Well you did, and I'm not letting you out of my sight while he's here"
"There's Cheryl…" but even as he said that, he remembered her saying she was away for the night.
"He never?" Steven let the question hang in the air.
"Never" Brendan confirmed.
"Just you?"
Brendan nodded.
Steven put the bin down, almost apologetic. "You can't stay in the house with him"
"It's just me and him tonight" Brendan said, repeating his earlier thoughts. "Even the lock and the bat won't make me feel safe…" he said this aloud without thinking. Steven looked appalled. "I have to go" Brendan said abruptly, moving to the door.
"What, now?"
"I'll be okay, Steven. I need ye away from me, alright? He can't know who ye are"
Steven looked like he wanted to argue but Brendan stopped him in his tracks.
"It'll make it worse for me"
Steven closed his mouth. "I'm only a phone call away" he still looked unsure.
"Trust me, I'll handle it"
Xxx
Ste didn't go home. He lingered outside the Brady's, trying to decide his best course of action. He couldn't leave Brendan to that man, he wouldn't. Impulsively, he knocked on the door, bouncing on the balls of his feet. Mr Brady answered and once again Ste felt like he was going to be sick. He thought of Brendan and straightened.
"I need to see Brendan, right now"
"Is it important?" Mr Brady asked coldly.
"Yes. He's my landlord, and there's a problem with my flat. I'm not leaving until he comes and sorts it out"
Mr Brady smirked then. Ste couldn't tell if he was truly amused or simply teasing him.
Brendan came to the door then. He took one look at Ste and baulked. "What do ye want?"
"My whole flat's flooded. You fixed that tap wrong, remember it? You need to get round there right now and help me clear up"
"That'll take all night" Brendan said, his face giving nothing away.
"I don't care! If you don't do it I'm going straight to the council"
Brendan bowed his head. "Fine" he grabbed his phone and keys. "Make yerself at home" he said to Mr Brady, not looking at him. They shut the door in his face.
"Steven, what the hell are ye playing at?" Brendan hissed.
"I'm saving you" Ste said simply, and took his hand.