A/N: Thank you so much for all your comments (and your patience! I know it's probably frustrating!). Some big revelations in this chapter…enjoy!

::

:

2013 – July – Brendan

"You're late," she said, knees falling apart on the seat as she glugged down another mouthful of water, puffing hair out of her face and squeezing a hand-held fan in her grip.

Brendan could feel the damp patches of his t-shirt sticking to him, having run from the car park. "I got held up in a meeting with Danny," he said, pressing his lips to her forehead, hand on her stomach.

She was hot and irritable, more than usual and jerked away. "He does know you're going to be a father again, doesn't he? I don't want you in the club all the hours that god gives when this one's popped out." Eileen stroked up and down her stomach and slumped back into the seat. "Where is the bloody doctor? My bladder's fit to burst here!"

Brendan dragged a hand across his face, eyes catching a glance of the stained ceiling and the ugly child-friendly mural on the walls, wondering how he had ended up here again, waiting with a wife he wasn't in love with for a scan. He already adored the child that grew inside her, but it had become another reminder of everything wrong in his life.

A year had passed since he stood in his club anticipating that he was in the final stages of being able to get his hands on Steven Hay. The boy had been drunk and horny, his flies already undone and if his boyfriend hadn't come running into the room throwing his guts up, Brendan knew how the night would have ended. Instead, little fucking nursemaid Steven had run to his boyfriend's aid and that was the last Brendan had seen of him. He'd retreated to his office and watched as the couple headed home together. Brendan became a rotting mess of bitterness and jealousy. He continued his stalking of Ste, even on nights when it became fruitless and he was just a sad pathetic man roaming the streets. And as time dragged on, Steven didn't turn up at the club again like Brendan had imagined he might and like sand rushing through his fingertips he realised that Steven had moved house and had stopped being the easily tracked prey he once was. Even if it wasn't deliberate it felt as much.

He'd started drinking more, falling into pitch black moods of isolation, agreeing to riskier deals at the club and becoming an even worse father and husband than he had been before. He could claim his family meant everything to him – he had traditional values – but he resented their presence. When Eileen delivered the news about being pregnant it felt like another curse on his miserable life, but an innocent life became something worth picking himself up for. He swore off the endless quantities of booze and the pathetic one night stands, burying his bad behaviour in regrets and swearing to God he'd be better. Invariably he wasn't, but the thought was there.

"So are you interested in knowing the sex of the baby today?" the doctor said as she pressed the scanner into Eileen's belly, rolling it around in the blue gel.

Brendan felt Eileen's hand tighten around his. As soon as they went home they'd return to almost separate lives but at the hospital, and anyone learning of the baby, they kept up this routine of being a close knit family. "No," she said, "We want it to be a surprise." Declan had noticed their distance but Paddy seemed to be none the wiser.

They were given two print outs at the end of the session. One each. Grey and black shadows and blobs in an ocean of speckled darkness. In all the other scan images of the kids Brendan had pretended to see the foetus and marvelled at the tiny form, but like a Magic Eye photo even squinting didn't help. He saw nothing. But this one, this one he could see. A round blob of a head and a body and least. He looked at 'it' in all its innocence; it had no idea what it was being born into.

After the scan, Eileen hobbled to the toilets, desperate to relieve her bladder and Brendan paced the corridor. They'd been back and forth to the hospital for various reasons over the last few weeks and Brendan himself had kept up his paranoid testing at the sexual health clinic but not once had he bumped into the disappearing Steven. Not that he thought it would lead to anything, Steven had made his feelings clear having never returned to Ravens. He didn't want to kid himself any longer. He was alone in these pathetic feeling.

It had been so long in seeing him that when a thick nursing textbook had fallen at Brendan's feet during his constant pacing, he didn't even see it was Ste that he'd bumped into.

Ste

Until they had made eye contact and Brendan had delivered the textbook straight back into his hands, Ste realised Brendan hadn't seen who he'd collided with. The surprise made his neck recoil back and an immediate mask shuttered down over his face. In Ste's chest his heart thumped, part adrenaline, part that fluttering guilt when he thought back to what almost happened when he was drunk in the toilets of Ravens. The embarrassment and arousal he felt going home after, making sure Adam wasn't too ill as well, had ensured he never returned to the club. It's not that he didn't want Brendan in that moment – of course he had – but he didn't want to get involved in something which was such a screw-up. He couldn't drag Adam and Brendan's family into all that just because seeing Brendan felt like being bolted with electricity. He had a good thing with Adam; he couldn't afford to mess that up – especially not now Adam funded his nursing training.

"Nursing, huh?" Brendan said once the acknowledgement had passed. His tone sounded sneery almost, in a way it never had before and Ste's smile had fallen faster than the book. Usually he had felt heat from both of them when their lives collided but Brendan stood coldly, looking down on him with derision.

Ste pulled out his lips sulkily, hugging the book to his chest. "I'm trainin'," he said. Already he missed the types of buzzing connections they'd forged in their previous chance meetings. He at least thought they could be at the stage one day where they could greet each other like mates. It's what they could have been, a bit of flirtatious banter on the side to make each other's smiles last a bit longer.

Brendan nodded, his mouth upturning. "A male nurse? Figures I guess. I'm sure a little baby blue pinny would suit you." His tone didn't have the undertone Ste was used to. He expected lip, he just didn't expect that Brendan's remarks would sting like that.

"I like helping people," Ste said, shouldering past. It was probably a good thing they weren't going to hang around and tiptoe between the attraction they felt. Ste felt like he was being punished for what hadn't even happened between them. Perhaps that was how Brendan worked, lashing out when things didn't go his way. He hadn't predicted there would be homophobia in his words – sure he was an obvious closet case, but he'd always been open and transparent when seeing Ste. He'd made no bones about wanting to have sex – neither of them had.

"Your boyfriend paying for this, is he?" Brendan called out as Ste began walking away.

"None of your business," he said, pausing to turn on his heel, spiked by the barbed comments. He felt too riled to acknowledge any jealousy in Brendan's comments. It was too close to home. Brendan hadn't seen him angry but he was about to; Ste's face had tensed with frustration. "In fact, you know what, none of what I do is any-ya your business, so stop sticking your nose in, alright? It's like you're my stalker or sommit!"

"Stalker? Right, you wish. Grow up Steven."

Ste could hear the hurt bleed through his words and while a part of him regretted it, he couldn't stop the defensive tone he'd found himself in. "That's what I'm doing," he said, walking away, "You should try it sometime."

When he turned the corner he couldn't avoid the way his skin tingled with adrenaline and the prickling disappointment that he might have just fucked up any future encounters with Brendan. Pissed off that Brendan had been rude and that in retaliation he'd been quick to flare up. Once, he'd been able to live off the thrill of seeing him again for days on end. The thought of that ending left him feeling crushed, however immature that made him seem. When they had met, Brendan had made him feel different – special somehow – severing that connection, however bad for him, didn't offer a pleasant after taste. It wasn't a resolution; he thought of Brendan even more than he had done.

August – Brendan

Eileen had another mum round for a girlie evening in, someone she'd met at the school gates and befriended. Brendan remembered nothing about this other woman only how surprised he'd been that Eileen had made friends with someone – she didn't seem to take to other women well and vice versa. Dreading being suffocated by the chat and the laughter Brendan headed out to the gym, desperate to burn off some of the restless energy he suffered with on a daily basis.

He didn't know what had possessed him to self-sabotage the lingering rapport he had with Steven. Perhaps he was saving them both, or perhaps jealousy had manifested in vicious bitterness that attacked with no purpose. He had no way of tracking him down and making things right; the only way of finding him would be proving him right, proving himself to be a sad stalker.

On the running machine his feet pounded the track, trying to wear out his urges for the sake of his sanity. He'd managed to piss on and extinguish the fire Steven had given back to him. As the exercise regime timer died down to single figures he looked for a distraction at the gym, someone who would make him forget how much he hated himself just for an hour at least and hope that afterwards he'd not feel worse.

October – Brendan

The figures in the books and the cash in the till didn't add up. Danny's lingering presence of late must have had something to do with it, Brendan had decided. Even though he had the majority share in the club and it was his prerogative to loiter, it unnerved Brendan whenever he did.

He made the risky decision to confront Danny about it on one of his visits.

"It's clever maths," Danny said, typing out a text on his phone. "The accountant sorts it - don't you worry your pretty little head about it."

"Is it dodgy Danny? I need to know."

"And I told you I've got it sorted," Danny said, his cool stare like the reflection of a blade. "You need all the extra cash you can get with another sprog on the way, don't you?"

Brendan's head hung, hands across his face. He couldn't deny that the extra money would come in use, but the thought of anything too high risk made him age ten years. He wasn't up for the threat of being busted by the cops anymore. Danny could easily shrink to the shadows and get away with it, but with Brendan's name on the deeds he couldn't.

Danny laughed, looking at his phone, uninterested in Brendan's worries. He flashed Brendan his phone. "Would you look at that? Her name's Janie – nineteen – double D." Brendan attempted to conjure up some macho enthusiasm for the naked photo Danny showed him of his latest extra-marital hook-up. They ended up sharing beers and scrolling through his grimy photo collection. The effort it took to appear interested exhausted Brendan's mind, making him block out the pressing stress of whatever deals Danny had lined up.

December – Ste

The conversation over the Christmas dinner with Amy and her new bloke had turned to bars and clubs in town and Ste's stomach had vaulted, cheeks burning up at the mere mention of Ravens. It haunted him to this day, months and months down the line – even when his last interaction with Brendan hadn't been a good one. It felt as if they knew, as if they'd acquired powers to see into his mind.

He reacted like he was predisposed to do – like the psychs in juvie had predicted – things were going good and he was screwing them up, even if only mentally. He couldn't face the shame of going back to Ravens and Adam said he didn't like the place much – too pretentious – so they hadn't, even though walking past it, even in the day, had made Ste a little breathless. He wondered how likely it was that they'd bump into each other again and now that things had frosted over between them would Brendan go out of his way to avoid him? Thoughts like that grow like an obsessive mould in his brain and he'd drift out mid conversation when something made him think of Brendan – or worse – he'd think about him during sex and gulp and gasp his way through it trying not to call out the wrong name. It seemed ridiculous but moustache memorabilia followed him everywhere – he even had to lie to Adam and say he hated them so he wouldn't grow one in November. It made him feel unnecessarily guilty. He hated that as things were moving forward in his life, part of him stayed cemented in the past, over-thinking their brief meetings and how things might have resolved themselves differently.

He was going to have to do something about it. He'd decided. He needed to go back to the club; he needed to see Brendan again. His head needed sorting out.

"Is everything, okay?" Amy asked, cornering him by the kitchen sink while Adam and Dean – Amy's boyfriend – helped Leah build a new playhouse for Barbie.

"Yeah, why wouldn't it be?" he said, laughing it off as he stacked the plates in the rack.

"You just seem off that's all," she said, looking at him from the side. "You and Adam okay? Work and the new flat…?"

He shook his head at her, turning back to see Adam and Leah playing. She wasn't Ste's but having helped raised her, he liked seeing her get on with Adam. "Everything is great. Things are great Ames." He kissed her on the cheek – he meant it.

Adam chose that moment to come up behind him, snaking his hands around his waist. "There's one last present for you under the tree."

"What, another one?" Ste said. "You already spent way too much money."

"Just…" Adam dragged him into the living room and fished out a small parcel from under the tree. He hadn't wrapped it, it was too neat for that. Ste had half hoped it was the Xbox game he wanted and hadn't received yet, but it was the wrong shape for that. All eyes were on him and he snorted with laughter at the attention.

After the paper ripped the seconds seemed to slow and he was staring at a solid black box. The laughter seemed superglued to his expression, but the humour had been chiselled out. The box clicked as he opened in; Amy watched from the doorway; Adam was on one knee.

"So," he said, "Will you?"