Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, they belong to Hollyoaks.
Words
Brendan had known straight away that something was wrong. Of course he had.
First he'd heard it in the rhythm of the footsteps up the stairs, and then he'd read it in the way Stephen held himself, in the set of his mouth, and in the nervous flickering of his eyes.
Something had happened.
Asking Stephen to look after Lynsey…that had been the big mistake really. The thing that had set all of this into motion. Again.
Getting Stephen close to his family, he knew, he fucking knew it wasn't wise, but Lynsey was scared and he needed a favour and someone who could handle themselves, someone impartial, someone he could trust.
And how many people like that did he have lying around?
What choice did have.
Keeping him away from that interfering bitch was just a bonus.
She was always mouthing off, thinking she had some sort of claim on Stephen, forever trying to turn him against him. It wasn't good for Stephen to be around those sorts of people.
And besides, she was just so fucking irritating and maybe if Stephen weren't here she would piss off out of his club and leave him alone. Jesus.
He should have known, should have known that she wouldn't fucking leave it. She never had before.
Brendan hadn't expected anything to happen. Not really. Didn't think it was Silas's style, he seemed more passive than that, more cunning. Not the confrontational type, someone who'd try to get at Lynsey with sly digs rather than force.
It was leaving her alone that worried him really, leaving her alone with her thoughts, no company. He saw how it panicked her. And yeah, Declan was there but he was just a kid, more interested in his computer games really, and so he sent in Stephen. Stephen who wouldn't stop talking even if you wanted him to.
It was more of a comfort thing really.
So he'd been pretty fucking unnerved when Stephen had turned up, looking nervous and stressed and almost pitying.
And he'd seemed lost for words, which was a bloody terrible sign and it wasn't until Brendan had stared him down that he finally started talking,
'It's,' Stephen cleared his throat, eyes averted, 'it's Rae. She's told Declan. About us. About you.' He'd brought his eyes up to Brendan's then, Brendan could see him square his shoulders, trying to steel himself, 'About you being gay'.
They'd held each others gaze for a few seconds, and Brendan's blood had run cold.
'Get out.'
Then Stephen had started talking, just like Brendan knew he would, words almost tripping over each other,
'It weren't her fault though Brendan, she was just talking weren't she, didn't know Declan was there did she, she wouldn't-'
'Get. Out.'
Stephen faltered then, mouth half-open, eyes scanning his face.
Brendan couldn't stand it, and was only half aware of grabbing his clipboard and flinging it across the room, making Stephen flinch.
The clatter it made as it hit the floor seemed deafening.
Stephen had stared at Brendan wide-eyed, before nodding jerkily and hurrying out of the building, pausing only once on the stairs to turn back.
The warning in Brendan's eyes had forced him out. Finally.
Brendan had just stood there after he'd left.
Stood there until he released a long and shaky breath, and turned around to the whiskey cabinet behind him, grabbed a bottle, a glass, and poured himself a measure. A fucking decent one.
He noticed his hands were shaking.
Brendan couldn't remember how long he had sat there nursing that Whiskey.
He could remember feeling slightly surprised though, surprised that really, he wasn't feeling anything.
His head just seemed sort of…empty.
Maybe it was the shock. He wanted to laugh.
He really hadn't expected to react like this.
Hadn't expected himself to be sitting in a dimly lit Chez Chez enjoying a Whiskey while his son was at home thinking god knows what about him.
He shook his head, sighed and ran a hand through his hair.
He'd have to sort this.
He owed it to Declan.
Brendan stood up and threw on his jacket, knocked back the rest of the Whiskey and took a moment to appreciate the trail it burnt down his throat.
He'd have to go now, try and salvage something out this mess.
He wouldn't think about it.
He couldn't .
He knew if he did he'd run. Run away and forget and try to start again,
and he couldn't do that to Declan. Not again.
Brendan adjusted his jacket, grimaced and tried to shake his head clear.
He had to go home.