Another huge thanks for your continuing comments! They help me know that I am on track with what I want to say, and you are doing a great job in feeding my soul. I've made the assumption in this chapter, that Brendan has no knowledge that the boy with the mustache on his finger was Walkers brother. I could not find info to tell me either way, so if he did in fact know, take it as a piece of artistic license for the fic ;)


"Please Bren, please wake up."

The words filtered through the dark painful torment that seemed to consume his entire being, words spoken between sobs that made his heart leap in his chest unpleasantly and yet he had no idea why.

Attempting to move and waken, he found that his body was unwilling to react and his eyes appeared to be glued shut. Someone was holding his head still and placing a pressure on the sorest part that all he wanted to do was scream in pain but all he could manage was a low moan that he barely heard himself.

Continuing to fight through the dark fog that kept him suppressed, he felt bursts of pain firing up and down his body the more aware he became. Feeling like little explosions of agony, each one brought him closer to consciousness, but he found he was scared to fully waken up as the pain increased with every passing moment.

"Brendan, please,"

It wasn't the words that spurred him on, but the voice that spoke them. Wanting nothing more than to reassure and receive reassurance from the person the voice belonged to made him fight harder through the thickness in his mind. The voice that was breaking, belonged to the one person that meant the world to him, in fact, meant more to him than his very life, and it hurt him to hear that person sound so desolate.

Something brushed against his cheek and he attempted to reach for it with his right hand, only to find that his arm was filled with pain so intense that he choked out a small cry. His breathing was somehow impeded, not enough air seemed to be getting into his lungs and every time he tried to make a sound he needed more breaths to make up for a noise that had hardly been worth making.

Trying again, he managed to open his left eye, but he could see nothing more than varying degrees of shadow as his vision was blurred and useless. What light there was irritated the open eye, making it flutter and weep and he felt a tear track down into his hair. Try as he did, he could not open his right eye, but as his left eye adjusted, he managed to make out a hazy shadowed silhouette that made his heart jump.

"St...Ste'vn?" The barely audible mumble was all that he could manage yet it created a flurry of movement in the lad that showed that he had heard him. Brendan felt him stroke his head nervously as he spoke soothing words to him. He then felt Steven adjusting the hold he had on his head, allowing him to move it a little to straighten his neck, but he instantly regretted it when a torturous sensation ripped around his skull nearly sending him back into unconsciousness.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Steven's quiet words were followed by a readjusting of his head and drop of wetness on Brendan's forehead; Steven was crying.

Mustering up every ounce of energy he had, Brendan raised his left hand towards the now less fuzzy image of Steven, wanting nothing more than to comfort the lad and stop his tears. As his hand weakly touched Steven's cheek, the lad grabbed it with his own and held it tightly to his tear streaked face as his large scared eyes abruptly jumped into focus in Brendan's clearing sight and took his breath away. Steven must have been crying a great deal as eyelids were red and swollen and framed inflamed eyes that stared at him incredulously. He saw fear, pain and worry in them and it made him angry that someone had made Steven's beautiful eyes so sad. But he also saw the love and hope shining there too , making him wish his right eye would open just to see them more clearly. Steven's wrists were cut and bloody and Brendan choked at the cruelty that someone had dealt him, stirring a deep anger within him. He became aware that they were moving and it occurred to him that they were in a moving car, he had no idea why or who was driving it.

"Wh...what...happened?" He asked, trying to remember why he found himself in so much pain. The last thing that he remembered was packing the boot of the car for their journey to Glasgow, but how he got from there to here he had no idea. Steven glanced warily towards the front of the car then leaned closer to Brendan's head.

"Walker set up a trap, but it all went wrong and you got in a crash. He's taking us somewhere but I dunno where. Says it's to do with his brother Cam." Steven whispered, his mouth so close to Brendan's face that he could feel his warm breath on his bruised flesh.

"Cam, Cam, the mustache man." The phrase came out of nowhere from a long forgotten recess in his mind. He used to say the phrase to a young user who never passed him without holding his finger to his upper lip, showing the mustache that he had tattooed on it. He used to grin at the gesture, took it as a nod to his own impressive mustache. The boy had been likable enough, but Cam had always been a bit of a risk taker, one of those users that Brendan liked to call a Flying Lunatic, owing to the fact that they would try anything for their next high.

It had been a long time since he had last seen him, long before he had heard the news that the lad had ended up in hospital in a vegetative state. It shocked him that Cam was the brother that Walker wanted revenge for, it had never crossed his mind that it could be. He had assumed that Walker's brother had just been some sad drug abuser that his days in drug dealing had dealt a bad blow to, and now he realised just how dangerous a situation that both he and Steven were in.

He remembered one of his runners talking about their experience with Cam's older brother and cousin, and the state in which the maniacs had left his running partner. He had been told in vivid detail of the deliberate injuries the men had inflicted upon the runner, which was why Brendan had taken the decision to no longer supply Cam with drugs. Whether or not one of the runners gave in and did sell to Cam without his knowledge he did not know and it really didn't matter anyway, the fact that Walker blamed him, was very bad news for himself and Steven.

Shit, Steven!

He had to get him out of here, he would not allow Walker to harm him. He had almost lost Declan to him in what had been a rather hastily put together back up plan, he didn't even dare think of the planned lengths that Walker would go to with Steven in order to extract his revenge.

Despite the fact that he knew any movement would bring him pain, the need to get it together and get them out of there overrode any common sense and he attempted to maneuver himself into a sitting position. Even the knowledge that movement would bring pain did not prepare him for the agony that exploded in his arm and chest and a strangled yell burst from his throat as he slumped back into Steven's lap. Something had popped in his chest and breathing became so much harder than it had been and he groaned a long and piteous noise much louder than his previous attempts at vocalization. Steven was frantic, unable to speak or do anything except hold his hand and Brendan wished that he had not caused the lad more anxiety by being so stupid.

"Ah, you decided to join the fun Brendan. I must admit, I'm quite impressed at your tenacity to survive! Or is it simply that your brain wont give in to the fact that you are already dead?" Walkers voice made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up; he never thought that he would hear it again.

"Yeh...know...me...Walker...always fightin'." He said in a low gasp filled voice. It was all that he could do not to pass out, the pain in his arm had not abated and his lungs just felt like they had given up working on keeping him alive.

"Well, we have something in common then."

"What do...you want?"

"Oh you know what I want Brendan. I want you dead, and I want you to suffer before you die."

The man in the front passenger seat laughed then turned to look at Brendan, his freshly broken nose caked in blood.

"I think you will get your wish granted sooner than you think cuz. He looks like he wont last the journey."

Brendan's stomach flipped and his heart hammered in his chest; cuz, cousin. Their situation was suddenly so much worse than he had initially guessed, and he thought of Steven and how he had to get him away from these two men. He tore his hand from Steven's and grabbed at his jacket desperately, pulling him closer.

"Yeh have...to get...away..."

He felt his mind darken as his chest became so much more tighter as he panicked, making his breath coming in short ragged gasps. Darkness descended on him and he slipped into oblivion to the sound of Jason laughing and Steven shouting.

o0o0o0o0o

He was dragged into a world of pain as he was thrown roughly into a chair to which his limbs were now being tied. The scream that tore from his throat was raw as his broken right arm was mercilessly tied down with no thought of the pain it caused him.

"Leave him alone!" Steven shouted, clearly upset and this made Brendan angry. Footsteps then a muffled cry made him react to the fury that filled his mind but all his broken body would allow him to do was groan and twist in the chair as pain rippled through his entire being in ever increasing waves.

He opened his eye to see that he was sitting opposite Steven who was also tied to a chair, finding that they were in an empty room with harsh lighting that hurt his already more than painful head. His stomach churned anxiously when he saw the state that Steven was in; his clothes covered in blood, his face pale with red bloodshot eyes that bored into Brendan. Then he realised that the blood was his own, spilled in the back of the car onto Steven's clothes and he calmed a little knowing that it was not the lad that was injured. A dirty rag had been forced into his mouth moments ago and he could see that Steven was retching behind it and he prayed the lad wouldn't choke.

Walker approached him, cocky and sure of himself. He stood quietly staring at Brendan thoughtfully.

"What yeh...want Walker?" He wheezed.

Walker just smiled then walked away, leaving Brendan to look at Steven who stared back wide eyed. As he looked upon this man that he loved with his entire heart, he felt nothing but shame. He had thought that his days of harming Steven had ended, that he no longer needed to protect the lad from himself or his past. And yet here he was, looking into the terrified eyes of his love, knowing that it was his fault that he was once again scared and in danger. Why had he ever thought that they could be happy? Why did he even think that he deserved to be happy or loved in the first place? The old demons of self loathing and self depreciation rose like wraiths in his mind and haunted him, making him take his eye from Steven and hang his head with shameful guilt.

He must have passed out again as the next thing he knew his shoulder was being shaken harshly and Walker was saying his name. Grunting, he opened his eye and raised his head with the intent of looking at him, but his eye came to rest on the object which Walker held in his hand and refused to move from it. It was a syringe, filled with a strange blue liquid that reminded him of car screen wash. His eyes must have shown fear as Walker delighted in rolling the syringe in his fingers, holding it so that Brendan could have a better look at it.

"What's...that?" He gasped, his eyes never leaving the syringe.

"This?" Walker said, hunkering onto one knee in front of Brendan while making sure the syringe was well in view. "This is a very special thing indeed. I doubt that even you have heard of it Brendan. You see, this was not created in the street labs, but in the medical research labs. A little known byproduct of a very well known chemical, that when injected into the blood stream, opens the recipients mind up to all kinds of things. Which is why it is a banned and somewhat little known substance. And here we are, about to inject it into a man who has barely had more than cough medicine in his entire life. You say drugs dull the mind? You'll never believe what this shit can do." He stood again, rocked on his heels and smiled evilly. "How do you think that Steven will react to a drug of this calibre, hmm?" He asked, making a move towards Steven.

"No...no no...please...don't..." He struggled weakly in the chair, wishing that he could stop Walker from injecting the stuff into Steven, who looked more scared than he had ever seen him. He struggled so much that the rib that had popped earlier screamed in protest and his chest hitched painfully.

"Joke, it isn't intended for Steven, well, not this one anyway. Is it Jason?"

He heard a chuckle behind him and was taken by surprise when a hand grabbed his sleeve and pulled it back. He was not prepared for the pain that stabbed in is arm as Jason plunged the contents of a syringe into a vein, and as the drug made its way though his system, he doubted that anyone would ever be prepared for what he was now feeling.

A sensation of burning fire ripped up his arm ferociously and he screamed and screamed as the others laughed. It was as if he had been injected with lava and his body convulsed as the fire burned up through his shoulder and into his chest where is exploded in all directions until it reached every part of his body with such excruciating pain that made him think that he was dying.

His heart sped up and his head pulled back until he was staring at the ceiling, his screaming abruptly stopping as he began to pant in a weak rhythm that he had no control over. The muscles in his face pulled so tight that the blood that held his right eye closed cracked and gave, then both his eyes opened wider than they ever had as his mouth opened in a silent scream. His body became so rigid that it trembled and he felt his heart speed more, to the point he was sure it was about to stop.

Then the fire within him died down and his body slowly relaxed, his heart and breathing slowing until he felt on the verge of sleep. Even his pain seemed to have diminished until it was merely an annoying itch at the back of his mind. His head fell slowly forward and he felt it move gently with every shallow rise of his chest as his mind dulled until the only thing that he was aware of was a deep sensation of peace and disconnection from reality. His eyes remained open, vision blurred and unseeing, until he heard a voice close to his ear.

"Bre-e-e-e-endan..."

"Simon..." he breathed as Walkers voice triggered flashing images of their entwined past to erupt in his mind and it was if he was there again, living that past.

"Where are you Brendan?"

He saw a man standing on a beach speaking into a mobile phone and despite the fact that he was so far away, he heard his words as if he spoke them directly to him.

"I've got him. I've got him! Bastard poured his heart out to me. He's gonna tell me everything now, the murder, the business, the lot, I've got him!"

"I didn't see that coming." The words were merely a whisper that fell from his mouth like smoke, a memory dredged up from the bad place he tried to forget.

"It's working!"

"How deep is he?"

"Very."

"Make sure."

"What else do you see Brendan, where are you?"

The voice sucked him deeper into that bad place, took him away from the beach and into the old holiday home that he hated with every fibre of his being. He was standing in his old room, weighed down under the feeling of immense oppression that seemed to fill the room. Then nana came in and rested herself against the radiator, the heaviness lifting slightly at her presence.

"You know what we're doing here?"

"Don't know much about anything any more nana."

"I need you to do some 'tings before I die, it's important to put your affairs in order.

"Yeah, well when I'm about to kick the bucket, I wont be looking back, I'll be looking forward."

"I'm leaving this place to you in my will."

"Cheryl will be thrilled."

"Not Cheryl, just you. Do you know why?"

"No."

"So you can burn it to the ground."

The look in her eye, the pleading for, what? Forgiveness? Why? He became uneasy, something wasn't right and he felt that he knew deep down why.

"Oh you do yer best as a mother. You do every'ting they tell you to, every'ting yer mother did. But...there's this other half to them, your offspring. The half that's already in em before they come out"

She was crying and he didn't care. He felt queasy, knew what was coming and it chilled him.

"Yer da was a wrong'un."

"What're yeh sayin'?"

"The 'ting I need you to do before I die, is not visit the holiday home."

"What're yeh sayin'? He repeated, knowing damn fine well what she was saying, and it cut him to the bone.

"It's to say sorry...I couldn't fix him."

"You knew?" He felt the tears welling in his eyes and spilling down his cheek. "You knew what he did to me? Did you? No...no Nana..." He could hardly breathe and he choked on emotion that built so quickly that it paralyzed him. "Why?"

"Yeah, he is well and truly under." Walker said with satisfaction as he wiped a tear from Brendan's face and looked at it as if it was gold.

TBC...

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