You guys almost didn't get this chapter xD My laptop/floppy disk decided to have a technical break-down where it wouldn't work or let me upload or anything. I almost had a break-down myself. So y'all luck you have this! And because I'm stressed with my laptop, I haven't read this through, so all mistakes are mine. This chapter is dedicated to my dear Hari! ILYBB :D And, I've planned out all the chapters and there's only going to be ten. Sorry for that guys!

The Eleventh Hour

Chapter Six

New York! New York!

The streets of New York are busy; taxis beep, cars roaring and weaving down roads, people walking and bustling and milling about. Tramps lined the sidewalks with their dogs and their cans of beans and their scratchy blankets.

Steve and Dave sit in the back of a cab, the driver taking his biker gloved hands against the side of the cab, the music playing quietly in the front. Rosary beads hang from the mirror. Steve is pale and his fist is clenched at his side, the other gripping the inside handle of the door until his knuckles are white. 'You nervous?' Dave asks. Steve looks across at him.

'I jus' want to see me son,' he replies in a quiet voice. Seeing Ben is all he can think about; will the young boy still know who his dad was? Has Shannon got a new bloke or is she still alone? He hopes she is. He doesn't want her being happy. Not after what she's done.

It was another half an hour before the cabbie drops them off at their destination; they stand with their luggage outside a tall block of apartments. It looks like a grand hotel, with balconies and a doorman with a red suit and gold tassels. Dave peers up; the sun is reflecting in the windows, almost blinding him and for a moment, a smile graces his lips; he's in New York.

Steve picks up his bag and swings it over his shoulder, reaching to grab his other things before he follows Dave towards the doors. The doorman gives them a bow as he lets them in and the two enter an air-conditioned lobby.

And Dave rests eyes on a man he suddenly isn't sure whether he's ready to meet yet. Matt hasn't changed much; he's shaved off the small goatee he had and his jaw looks a little more defined and less babyish than it had. And his eyes are cautious, blue gaze sweeping over the two, a little more surprised to see Steve there. Steve looks back at him, jaw working as his mind battles over whether he should just greet Matt or beat the shit outta him.

He knows he'd much prefer the latter.

Dave clears his throat and offers Matt a smile. 'Alright, son?' he asks, before gesturing around the lobby; there's sofas and chairs in groups where people can sit and a bar, where a tender stands and cleans a glass with a cloth. 'Nice play you got 'ere.'

'Thanks,' Matt replies. 'Do you want to come up?' He turns and strides towards the lift and Dave pauses for a moment; Matt's attitude is completely different here. Back in London, he was new and didn't know anything, so he was ready to please anyone. A fucking arse-licker was what you'd call it. But, now he was in his element. His posture of purposeful and when he looked back at the two, waiting for them to follow, his gaze was serious.

This wasn't going to be a fucking walk in the park.

In the lift, Dave is thankful for cheesy music that plays in the background. Robbie Williams filled the awkward, icy silence that fell over the three as they made their way up. Matt's hands were in the pockets of his jeans and he stared straight ahead of him. Steve still looked angry, working hard to control his temper upon seeing the Buckner, because if he lost his rag now, he knew there was a chance he wouldn't be seeing his son.

The lift pinged and they spilled out into a corridor. The floor was covered in navy blue plush carpet and the walls were beige, gold light fittings and plant pots at every corner. Matt leads them to apartment 426, unlocking the door and letting them in.

The apartment is beautiful; he'll give him that. They walk straight into the main living area, which is spacious. There's a large plasma screen on the wall and a corner sofa that stretches from one end of the room to the other. One wall is made entirely out of floor-to-ceiling window, which overlooks New York. Dave can see the Statue of Liberty here. The flooring is laminate and there's a large bookshelf. On the coffee table are several copies of Matt's book and some papers he seems to be working on.

The kitchen area leads off from the living room and there are doors to Dave's left, which he guessed would lead to bedrooms and bathrooms. He realizes his mouth his opened in awe and he shuts it quickly. Matt is looking at them expectantly.

'Nice of you to change our names,' Steve said; his first words to Matt are gruff and he is looking directly over Matt's shoulder, refusing to make eye contact.

'You managed to work out who was who?' Matt asks.

Dave gives a small, if forced laugh. 'Swill is the only one who orders a Happy Meal from MacDonald's, just for the toy.' Matt lets out a small laugh, but the smile doesn't reach his eyes and it fades quickly.

'How are things for you?'

'Getting there,' shrugs Dave. 'You?'

'Going well. Surprisingly. And I-'

'Where's Shannon?' Steve interrupts. Matt blinks at him.

'She's picking Ben up from day care.'

'When will she be back?' he demands.

'She'll be a while yet,' Matt tells him. 'She's picking up some shopping while she's there,' he explains. Steve says nothing else and Matt looks at Dave.

'Can I get you a drink?'

'Dinner would be nice,' Dave tells him.

--

The three sit on the sofa, plates balanced on the coffee table with glasses of wine as they eat a dinner of mushroom pasta. 'It was a few months before I could do anything,' Matt says; he's telling them about what he did after Pete's death. Steve is staring directly into his wine glass and Dave is watching Matt. 'For the first time in my life, I'd been accepted. Even though I was a Yank, you still took me in. For the first time, I had something to look forward to. The matches, the fights.' He shakes his head. 'And then all that was gone. I didn't have many friends when I was growing up, Dave. And then to fall into a place where you all have such a close bond. I didn't want to ruin anything, I swear.'

'He was my brother,' Steve says, voice low as his eyes flicker up. They're a dark, angry blue and they flash threateningly at Matt. 'He was my brother and you fucking ran away. You could 'ave stayed. Could 'ave done anything.'

'I panicked, okay?' Matt tells him. 'I got scared. I just took my sister and left. There was nothing I could have done.'

'You could 'ave stayed, mate,' Steve says through gritted teeth. Matt sighs and looks down at his lap. Doesn't he realize that Matt knows he could have stayed? That he regretted even leaving?'

'I'm sorry,' he says quietly.

'That doesn't bring Pete back.' Their words are interrupted by the sound of the front door opening and they look up to see Shannon pushing the buggy inside.

'I got a few more of those milkshakes you liked, Matt,' she says, coming in. 'I picked up a few of…' She trails off when she catches sight of Steve, eyes going wide and she stops stock-still. Steve gets to his feet, his fork clattering onto the coffee table. The atmosphere is suddenly icy. 'You didn't tell me he was coming,' she says, voice low. 'Just Dave. You said just Dave.'

Matt and Dave get to their feet. 'I didn't know,' Matt replies. Shannon glares accusingly at Dave.

'He wanted to come,' he shrugs. 'I wasn't gonna stop 'im.'

'I'm taking Ben to bed,' she says.

'I want to see him,' Steve says.

'You can see him in the morning. He's tired.' She turns, unstrapping the three year old from his pushchair. His blonde hair has been recently cut and he still has a comb over and his blue eyes look over the two men curiously. He's sucking his thumb. Shannon stalks through to the bedroom without a word.

She shuts the door and then leans against it. Ben rests his head against her shoulder as she sits down, head pressing back against the wooden door. And she cries. She cries because Steve is back. Steve is in there and she's going to have to deal with him. She knows that. Ben looks at her, patting her head and she presses her face into the front of his jumper to conceal her sobs.

1990

Dave yawned, stretching out on the rough carpet of the youth club. He was fifteen years old, lanky from that summer's sudden growth spurt, black hair messy and flopping over his forehead. He looked at the ceiling, dark eyes roaming over the cracks and the cobwebs and he sighed.

He'd just been dumped. Which was stupid because he was just about to dump her. He was just about to open his mouth and tell her that it wasn't working and give her the ol' it-isn't-you-it's-me. But, then she'd said it-isn't-you-it's-me.

What the fuck?

Well, he didn't need her anyway. He was pretty fine himself. He listened to the noise of the other kids joking and smoking out the window and passing small bottles of beer between them and he sighed and stretched. He wasn't fine. He was far from it.

It was his mum.

He wasn't fucking stupid; she tried to hide the drink and the vodka bottles, but he knew she had a problem. At first, she didn't drink much; just the weekends, and then a few week days a week and then every other day and then it was all the time. There wasn't a moment when she was swaying, unfocused and laughing to herself, the smell of liquor on her breath. And he'd had enough.

But, he didn't know what to do. Granddad had tried to make her stop and Dave had tried to hide her vodka, pouring them down the sink when she was pissed, but she always had more.

Dave sat up, running a hand through his hair. 'Oi, Biano, want some?' Some kid who couldn't be older than eleven handed him a bottle of cheap whiskey. Dave glanced around to check that the Youth Club reps weren't looking before taking a deep gulp of it.

If she could do it, so could he.

Now

Steve sits in the living room with Shannon. It's quiet, the only sound being Ben playing with his toys on the floor. Matt's in his study and Dave's still in bed, jet-lagged after the trip. 'How could you take my son away from me?' Steve asks hoarsely. It's the only question he's wanted an answer for. Needed an answer for. And that is how she could have just whisked Ben away without a word or a letter or a fucking phone call.

'I did what I thought was right at the time, Steve. I panicked. I just needed to get out of there.' Shannon studies her hands that are resting on her knees. 'I couldn't have him growing up in a place like that.'

'He's still my son and you 'ad no right.'

'He's our son and I had every right,' Shannon snaps in reply, looking up at him. He's changed over the past year; the scar is pink, twisted and ugly on his neck and gingery stubble lines his jaw. But, those blue eyes are those of Steve Dunham- they haven't changed and they look at her with hate.

Ben starts to cry, breaking the silence that has formed over them. Before Shannon can move towards him, Steve gets up and moves towards Ben, cradling his little boy in his arms. 'Don't worry, son,' he murmurs as he rocks the sobbing tot. 'I'm 'ere now.'

--

So, Steve and Shannon have finally seen each other again. It was very hard to control Steve and have him NOT break Matt's nose. So, what did you think?