A/N: This will now be longer than two parts, I couldn't resist! :)

Chapter Two

Brendan hesitated, pulling back on Steven's hand.

"I told ye, ye are better off out of this."

"Well I chose to ignore that," Steven replied, tugging on his wrist now. "Come on, we'll talk at mine."

Brendan bowed his head, allowing himself to be steered away. He didn't have much fight left in him.

It was dark at the flat; Steven had invested in those energy saving light bulbs that Brendan found ridiculous.

"Do they even last, Steven? Why not save yerself the trouble and buy proper ones?"

Steven rolled his eyes, fishing out a few candles. "They're meant to be good for the environment, innit."

"Since when have ye cared?"

Steven shrugged. "It's nice anyway, when I'm alone in the flat and want to chill out."

"Where anything can lurk in the dark?" Brendan slumped onto Steven's sofa. "Sorry, ignore me."

"I've tried," Steven grinned, collapsing beside him. "It's nice to see some of that old Brady charm though, gotta say."

Brendan smirked a little. "Let's see how long ye last till I'm out on my arse."

Steven laughed, laying his head back. "Not long, if we're going by past conversations."

"When did Douglas leave?" Brendan asked unexpectedly. Steven looked at him in some surprise.

"Well, he kinda left before he went to California. He stayed at his old place when he got back and collected all of his stuff after we split."

"Right." Brendan glanced around the flat. He didn't mean to feel this way, but he still felt Douglas' presence there. It unsettled him, and he was feeling unsettled enough as it was.

"I'll, um, get the guest room set up." Steven said awkwardly. Brendan watched him leave, feeling oddly out of place in the small flat, regardless of how many times he'd been there before.

When Steven returned, Brendan stood up awkwardly. He looked down at his bandaged finger. "Thanks for… this," he said gruffly.

"Least I could do," Steven murmured, shuffling his feet. He looked like he wanted to say something. Instead he held out his arms. Brendan stared at him blankly.

"Steven, I don't-"

"For me, okay? I could use one."

Brendan smiled a little then, pulling him in towards him. He held him around the waist, his face buried into his neck. They had shared a few embraces over the past few months and one of the main things Brendan noticed was how competent Steven was, how strong. He held him tightly without restraint, giving Brendan what he needed and understanding what it all meant.

They pulled away after several moments. Brendan could smell him so distinctly at this proximity and their bodies were still partly pressed together as they held each other at arms length.

"We should sleep," Steven said eventually, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed hard.

"I haven't slept in days," Brendan admitted, suddenly feeling very drained.

Steven bowed his head, troubled. "Will you be able to here?"

"I hope so," Brendan sighed, reluctantly pulling away from Steven. It wasn't helping him focus. "Don't worry about me."

Steven smiled a little sadly then. "Sure thing. Night, Bren. Help yourself to water for bed if you want, and I'll leave the hall light on in case you need a piss in the night."

"Thanks," Brendan said, a little amused despite the circumstances. "Night, Steven."

Steven smiled again a little tightly and disappeared into his bedroom, closing the door after him. Brendan's shoulders slumped, alone with his thoughts. He went to get a glass of water, resisting the urge to search for something stronger. The guest bedroom was Amy's old room. A lot of her stuff still remained, but Steven had changed the bed covers to some of his own. Perhaps Amy's weren't Brendan's style.

He placed the glass of water on the bedside table and slipped beneath the covers. Even though they'd been washed, Steven's scent was still present on them. Brendan couldn't differentiate between the covers they'd been on together; it was hard to focus on anything other than Steven when they were together, but Brendan thought they seemed familiar. That, coupled with Steven's reassuring scent, sent Brendan into a deep sleep, finally at ease.

Xxx

Ste sat up in bed for a long time. Now that he was alone, everything Brendan had revealed to him came flooding through him at an alarming pace. He had known there was more to Brendan's past than he realised, but he hadn't expected something like this, or the effect it would have on him.

He was still feeling rough from being sick earlier, and at some point his hands had started to shake. He didn't expect to sleep tonight, but he hoped at least that Brendan was. He crept out into the hall and noted that Brendan's door was open. He peeked inside, his bare feet cold outside of his room. Brendan appeared to be fast asleep. He looked so much younger, his expression soft and relaxed. Ste found himself stepping into the room to get a better look at him.

It was so strange at times, how the love he felt for him was always there beneath the surface. Most of the time he denied it to himself, but at times like these it was plain for all to see. If Brendan woke now he'd see it all over his face. Ste flushed at that thought, finding himself surreptitiously slipping into the bed beside him. He felt safer here. Not because he was scared for himself, but because he was scared for Brendan. He didn't know what he could possibly do in the face of someone like Mr Brady but he felt better knowing Brendan was near and under his protection. He hoped that he could keep him here as long as possible.

At some point he must have fallen asleep because the next thing he knew it was morning and he was in the crook of Brendan's arm, on his side of the bed. Brendan was looking at him, a little baffled and a little touched. Ste blushed, smiling at him apologetically.

"Well, that was certainly a nice wake up present," Brendan murmured thoughtfully.

"I don't know why," Ste said quickly. "I just… wanted to be near you?"

"That's…" Brendan trailed off, unsure of himself. Ste wasn't used to this Brendan; who was hesitant and careful in his approach.

"I should um…" Ste sat up awkwardly. The morning was cold and his skin was covered in goosebumps.

"Here." Brendan handed him his black jumper from the night before.

Ste smiled his thanks, slipping it over his head. "I'll make us breakfast," he said, avoiding Brendan's keen gaze. He padded towards the kitchen, flattening his bed hair as he went and breathing into his palm to test his breath. He turned to walk to the bathroom but Brendan was standing there in his underwear, unashamed.

"Do you want a shower?" Ste asked in a rush, the heat rising up his neck and face.

"No, that's alright." Brendan slid into a seat at the table. "Ye can go, I'll make us something."

"Oh," Ste said in surprise, fixed to the spot. "Thanks." He scampered to the bathroom, leaning against the closed door and breathing heavily. What was he doing? Brendan opens up to him and he's back in his bed just like that? But no, that wasn't right. This had been building for months and it wasn't as though anything had actually happened. Ste shook himself, trying to get a grip. He turned the shower on, waiting for the water to heat up while he brushed his teeth. Inspecting himself in the mirror, his skin looked a little drab, probably from being sick the night before. He lathered on some face wash, feeling much more refreshed afterwards.

After he'd showered, he cursed himself for not bringing clean clothes into the bathroom with him. He didn't want to walk out there in a towel; that would send the wrong message entirely. Instead he sifted through the washing basket, picking out clothes that didn't really need ironing. He slipped those on and Brendan's jumper too, for warmth's sake, and opened the bathroom door.

The smell of bacon and eggs immediately hit him and he heard his stomach rumble. Brendan had set up the table and even included glasses of orange juice. Ste felt himself smile.

"You've outdone yourself," he said, taking a seat at the table. Brendan turned to him, now dressed in his clothes from the night before, minus his jumper. "Do you want this?" Ste held the fabric of the jumper out but Brendan was already shaking his head.

"Looks better on ye, keep it."

Ste felt himself blushing again and nodded. Brendan put a plate in front of him, sitting opposite him. They ate in silence for a while, both of them stealing glances when the other wasn't looking. Ste knew this because he could feel Brendan's gaze on him. Eventually he met him in the middle, and locked eyes with him.

"We need to talk," he said quietly. Brendan raised his eyebrows.

"About?"

Ste sighed. "Don't pretend, Brendan. You know what about."

Brendan put his fork down, looking at Ste levelly over the table. "I appreciate ye letting me stay last night. It won't happen again, I promise." He stood up abruptly, pushing his chair back.

"Where are you going?" Ste stood up with him, alarmed.

"Home?" Brendan frowned at him. "Where else?"

"No!" Ste exclaimed, blocking Brendan's path. "You can't!"

"Steven, I appreciate that ye are worried but really-"

"No. You're staying put, no arguments."

"Steven-"

"Is Cheryl even home yet? Do you know?"

This caught Brendan off guard.

"Exactly. So stay here at least until you know she's home, okay?"

Brendan sat back down again, abashed. "Whatever ye want." There was an odd look on his face that Ste couldn't read.

"What?"

"It's nothing," Brendan said gruffly. "Actually I could do with a walk."

"I'll come along," Ste offered, scoffing the remainder of his breakfast.

"There's no need," Brendan said plainly.

"Well, I want to," Ste smiled but Brendan barely managed a quirk of the mouth in response. Something was definitely up. "I'm sorry about this morning," Ste said quickly. "Turning up in your bed."

Brendan shrugged, avoiding his gaze. "Doesn't matter."

"It does, I don't want you to think-"

"I don't think anything, Steven," Brendan responded, his voice a little tired.

Ste closed his mouth, placing their plates in the sink. "We better go for that walk then," he said hoarsely, feeling strangely emotional.

Brendan said nothing. He went out the door first, his posture tense and unyielding. Ste closed the door after them, taking a steadying breath.

Xxx

Brendan didn't know what he'd expected. Steven in his bed didn't automatically mean he still loved him, or wanted to get back together. Brendan had been keeping his distance for his own good but it was at times like these when Steven was being so kind and concerned for him that Brendan wavered.

When he had woken up to find Steven fast asleep, pressed up against his body, Brendan had felt a rush of warmth and affection; a feeling he had believed long obliterated by his father's presence. He had believed for maybe a second that everything would be okay, that perhaps he really could have it all and be happy.

But what had Steven begun to say? Clearly he didn't want Brendan to think it meant anything. If that was how Steven felt, that was how it should remain. Brendan couldn't allow himself to become attached again, to believe there could be more. When Cheryl was home he would leave Steven alone and not approach him again. If nothing else, he dreaded his father finding out who Steven really was.

They turned a corner in the village and Brendan spied Doug outside the deli. He glanced at Steven, who looked horror struck.

"I forgot about work," he said, wincing.

"Ye better go then," Brendan said, clearing his throat. Steven glanced up at him, unsure. "I'll be fine, ye go."

Steven clearly thought he had some obligation to Brendan's welfare now. He despised the idea of Steven pitying him. Because why else would he go out of his way to be there for him now? It was the same after Lynsey died; he just wanted to do the right thing, because that was the kind of person he was. Brendan couldn't bear his kindness, it reminded him of what he didn't have.

When Doug approached them, looking exasperated, Brendan took advantage of Steven's diverted attention and slipped away quietly. Cowardly? Yes. Necessary? Definitely.

He couldn't go home, that much was certain. He wandered around the village for a while until he decided he needed to get away. He got in his car and simply drove, hardly caring where he ended up. A part of him wondered if he really should leave town for a while, go back to Ireland or something. The only thing that stopped him was leaving Cheryl alone with his father. He knew he had never harmed her but he still couldn't shake that fear off.

Eventually he found a bar in town and spent the rest of the day there, swigging back whiskey and trying to numb himself from everything. His phone rang multiple times, had done since he'd left the village, but he rejected every call, not bothering to check the caller ID. At some point in the early evening, he blacked out.

Xxx

Ste was beyond frantic by now. He'd called Brendan at least twenty times that day and hadn't received an answer. When he finished his shift he tried again, wrapping Brendan's jumper tighter around himself. Finally someone answered, but it wasn't Brendan.

"Hello?" Ste asked carefully. "Who's this?"

It was the bar manager of a bar in town. Brendan had been there all day and he was unconscious. The guy was close to calling the police but Ste reassured him he was on his way to collect him.

He had to take two buses to get there but eventually he did. He didn't recognise the bar; it was a run-of-the-mill place, nothing special, and certainly not a gay bar. He spotted Brendan slumped over a table in the corner. Ste went to him, shaking his shoulders to rouse him.

"It's no good, we've tried," the bar manager said, looking disapproving.

"Just give me a minute, yeah? I'll sort it," Ste replied, exasperated already. "Brendan?" he gave him a gentle shove. "Come on, wake up."

Brendan mumbled something but his eyes remained closed.

"We have to get you home," Ste said pointedly. He leaned in so only Brendan could hear him. "Why did you run away like that? I want to help you, can't you see that?"

"What for?" Brendan finally roused himself. "Pity? Is that it?"

"What is your problem?" Ste asked, angry now. "I'm just trying to help!"

"I don't need yer help." Brendan sat himself up, grasping the table as he tried to hoist himself into a standing position. He stumbled and Ste caught him around the waist.

"This isn't helping anyone, Brendan! What do you expect to gain from this?"

"I just want to forget." Brendan collapsed against Ste, his entire body shaking with the sobs reverberating through his body.

Ste sighed, tightening his grip on Brendan's waist. "You're coming home with me, and you're paying for the taxi I ordered."

Brendan nodded, wiping his eyes hastily on the back of his hand. Ste hated seeing him like this.

"Cheryl's away another night so don't worry about her."

Brendan said nothing; he looked chastened and broken. Ste felt a twinge of guilt for his firmness, but he knew deep down that it was what Brendan needed right now. He fell asleep on the taxi ride home, his head on Ste's lap. Ste let him rest there, his hand in his hair.

It would be so easy to admit that he was only doing this because he felt sorry for him, or because he felt he had to, being the only person in the know. But that wasn't it at all. Ste loved him. He was still in love with him. He had known it for a while now; in fact, he wondered if he'd ever really stopped. A part of him knew that the fragile state Brendan was in right now wasn't the best basis for a relationship, and another part of him didn't care.

He trailed his fingers along Brendan's scalp and for a moment he smiled, imagining that they were coming back from a night out together and not trapped in this terrible nightmare.

He somehow got Brendan through the front door and into bed. He was in no fit state to talk now or undress himself. Ste stripped him automatically, leaving him in his boxers. When he turned to leave, he felt Brendan's hand close on his wrist. It wasn't a firm grip, more of a weak protest. Ste sighed and slipped in the bed beside him, allowing Brendan to curl himself around him, his face in his hair. In the morning, Brendan would simply assume that Ste did it for Brendan's sake, but deep down Ste knew in the bottom of his heart that he wanted this for himself.