I'm sorry I have taken so long to update, I ran into some creative block and despite knowing the story, was unable to write it. But I have now and glad to put it up before heading to bed :D Thank you to everyone who continues to leave me comments and feedback, I enjoy them all and try to respond to them as best I can, and for those who I am unable to reply, thank you too! :D Anyway, on with the show...

"Good job I had an argument with Frankie, I wouldn't have been out driving otherwise. But don't tell her I said that, eh?"

Jack had been a godsend and Steven didn't want to even think about how it might have ended had he not been driving that road last night. He had kept his cool and given them both the chance to survive, something which Steven would always be grateful to him for. When the rescue crews had finally arrived, Jack had been the one to guide them to the scene and they had set to work straight away stabilizing Brendan for transport to the hospital. Steven had felt someone place a blanket over his shoulders and gently check him over while he watched the other paramedics working on Brendan. Jack had even spoken with the police, giving them all the information that he had in order to spare Steven questioning until later, but he had approached Steven with a puzzled look on his face when the officers had began to look the area over.

"Steven, I thought you said Simon Walker was here?"

"He is, he's...where is he?"

Steven then found himself unable to speak, his brain having froze as it failed to comprehend what Jack was implying; that Walker had somehow survived Brendan's attack. He had stood there open mouthed in shock, his mind reeling, then his entire body went limp as his mind closed down with the thought that Walker was out there, watching them.

When he woke again, he was in the accident and emergency feeling drowsy and nauseous and his face hurt so badly he wanted to cry. Instead, he looked across the room to where a group of people hurried and shouted orders over the bed of a silent unconscious man. Brendan was laid out on a gurney, surrounded by a team of doctors and nurses who worked tirelessly to keep him alive. Steven watched the scene, too numb to feel much, hollow and cold inside. He watched until a doctor approached and pulled the curtains closed around his own bed, then listened to the noise on the other side of the curtains until the medicine the doctor had given him kicked in. The rest was a blur; long confusing hours where his pain was dulled and his over stimulated tired mind tried to sleep.

Now he was in a ward and lay on a hard uncomfortable hospital bed with sheets so rough they felt like sandpaper on his tender skin. The harsh hospital light above him hurt his sensitive eyes, making him raise a hand to shield them only to feel his muscles instantly cramp up and he hissed at the pain. His hands were bandaged up past his wrists, hiding the awful injures he had suffered when he freed himself; the plastic ties that had bound him had cut deeply into his wrists with his struggles and had also skinned the back of both hands. They ached and burned intensely beneath the dressings and their pain was worse than his now reset nose. His throat was raw and kept reminding him of the long awful moments that he and Jack had spent, watching the flashlights of the rescue crew through the trees, screaming for them to hurry up as Brendan had continued to slip away. Every muscle in his body felt like it was burning, every joint felt as if it had worn out and he tried to move only to stop when it felt like too much bother. But he was getting restless waiting for news on Brendan.

Every time someone came in to check on him he asked about Brendan, but no one seemed willing to give him any answers. He understood that since he wasn't his next of kin there was only so much they could tell him, but he wasn't being told anything except he was critical but stable and these words did nothing to ease his troubled mind. Finally he gave up asking and decided to find out himself. Throwing back the rough sheets he gingerly pulled himself into a slanted sitting position, careful not to dislodge the tubing in his arm which led to bags of fluid and antibiotics being drip fed into his body. He gripped the wheeled drip stand tightly and maneuvered himself from the bed, his legs seizing as his feet touched the cold of the floor. For a moment his body seemed to scream and he wondered if he was even going to make it past the curtains that were pulled closed around his bay, but then everything calmed down until it felt as if he might actually make it.

Like an old tired man, he shuffled slowly from behind the curtains, looking around the busy ward to make sure his exit would not be seen. He wore little more than a hospital gown, but he did not care, he had to see Brendan. He managed to stagger as far as the doors to the ward and had placed one foot into the corridor when the shout came from behind him.

"Mr Hay? Mr Hay!" He ignored the calling voice, knowing that it only shouted on him to return him to his bed.

"Mr Hay, I need you return to your bed, you should not be up and around just yet."

Steven continued to ignore the woman as he walked unsteadily down the hospital corridor, pushing the drip stand in front of him while using it to keep his balance. The nurse caught up with him and placed a blanket over his shoulders but Steven didn't stop, determined to get to where he wanted to be.

"Mr Hay, where are you going?" The nurse asked, keeping the slow pace with him.

"To see me boyfriend." He replied without so much as a glance at the nurse, squaring his jaw and tilting his head obstinately. But he was aware of her worried glances and could see from the corner of his eye the empathic look upon her face.

"If I take you to see him, will you come back to the ward with me?"

Steven nodded, thankful that at last someone was going to help him.

"Let me just get you a wheelchair."

"No, I can walk fine, me." He knew that he was being unnecessarily rude, but he just wanted to see Brendan and didn't want to wait any longer.

The nurse shook her head resignedly and walked with him further down the corridor and into the intensive care ward which ran adjacent to his ward. The mood here was very different to the hectic ward he had just left. While his ward got people well enough to either go home or to another ward, this one worked solely to keep people alive until they were stable enough to move. The bays were different, more roomy to allow for all of the equipment and, should it be required, to allow the movement of a specialist team in the event of an emergency. The place was noisy, filled with the alarms and chimes of many machines and the voices of the staff who worked diligently for the patients under their care. There were not as many beds as his ward either, easier for the staff to concentrate on the very ill and it struck Steven how very close to losing Brendan he really was.

They walked passed a couple of bays before his eyes snapped on the poor soul lying in the bed nearest the nurses station; it was Brendan. He lay amidst machines and lengths of tubing and cabling which breathed for him, monitored him, hydrated him and ultimately kept him alive. There were bags of fluids, pumps and monitors with numbers and lines that he did not understand. There was constant noise that beeped, chimed, whooshed and scared him. He swayed a little as he looked upon that slack sleeping face, the large breathing tube pulsing slightly each time air was forced into Brendan's lungs and Steven suddenly had some insight into how Brendan must have felt on the day of the crash, when he had looked upon Steven in his coma; utterly devastated.

He felt hands gently guiding him onto a wheelchair that seemed to have appeared from nowhere, making him sit down before he fell down. The nurse positioned the chair right next to Brendan's bed and pulled on the brakes. His eyes never left Brendan's face as she made sure he was okay before leaving him to speak to her colleagues. Reaching out, he lifted Brendan's hand, noting how much warmer it was now than it had been last night when he had held it in the darkness. Brendan's face had been cleaned and the glass which had been embedded in his skin, removed. The large wound on his head was covered by a dressing while his broken arm was now in a cast and resting at his side. A long tube came from beneath the covers into a plastic container that rested beside the bed and Steven recognised it as a chest drain, knowing now why Brendan's breathing had been accompanied by the strange wheeze. He was still very pale but less than he had been, a small flush of colour on his otherwise pallid cheeks probably owing to the influx of fresh blood from the bag suspended on one of the the drip stands next to the bed. He looked so small and so very vulnerable laying there, unable to breath for himself, unconscious and confined to a bed in which he had no idea he was lying.

Steven felt very lost and alone as he continued to stare at Brendan, wishing that he would wake up and tell him everything was okay. He felt almost bereft of emotion as he sat there, not quite sure what it was that he was meant to feel, looking upon the unconscious face of the man who had held onto every ounce of strength he had, just because Steven had asked him to. He felt his bottom lip quiver then his shoulders shook as he cried silently, rocked by massive uncontrolled sobs that took him by surprise. He wiped angrily at the tears that had began to fall, feeling that he had to be strong, not sitting there crying like a fool in full view of anyone to see but he could not help it and they continued to fall regardless of what he wanted. He rubbed at Brendan's hand nervously as if the sensation might bring Brendan round, noting the dirt embedded in parts of his skin and his torn, ragged fingernails. It took him a moment to realise he was no longer alone and turned his head to see the nurse that had helped him here, watching him as she approached the bed. He wiped at his face again, embarrassed at the tears that soaked his face.

"Are you okay?" she asked, to which he nodded vigorously, then wished he hadn't when the room began to spin slowly. "I've spoken with his nurse and she has said that you can stay for a short while if you feel up to it." He nodded again and thanked her. "His sister is on her way and should be here shortly. I'll pop back in a bit, help you back to the ward." She smiled reassuringly then left, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

Only a few moments passed when he heard the click of Cheryl's heels hastily approaching, and he turned to see her worried face as she hurried up the ward towards him.

"Oh Ste love!" She said as she got to the bedside, leaning forward and giving him a peck on the cheek and small gentle hug. "I only went home to freshen up. If I thought you'd be awake I'd have stayed."

"It's ok."

"Awww look at whit they did teh yis!" She said as tears filled her eyes and threatened to ruin her freshly applied makeup. "Have the police been in to speak to yeh yet? They were in 'ere earlier, as if ar' Brendan could tell them anything!" She looked at her brother sadly, her head shaking as if she did not believe it was Brendan in the bed before her.

"I dunt know if they've been. Only just woke and came here."

"Oh Ste, you shouldn't be up and around love, no wonder you look so pale!"

He shook his head, he didn't feel any different to what he had last night, maybe a little more rested but not any worse and he knew that he couldn't just lie in bed thinking about Brendan when he could be here at his side. Cheryl pulled a chair close to the bed, sitting herself down opposite Steven as she pulled a tissue from her bag and dabbed beneath her eyes.

"God he looks so ill. He didn't even look as bad as this when the holiday home blew up with him in it." She said.

"He'll be fine." Was all Steven could say, though he hardly believed it himself.

"Will he be Ste? Coz I'm having a hard time seeing him come out of this one!" She rocked with great wracking sobs and made a strange strangled noise as she tried to stifle a cry behind the hand she had suddenly clamped to her mouth as large tears dripped from her eyes. But even though Steven felt and understood her pain, he could not help but be angry with her.

"How can you say that Cheryl! He's not dead yet so don't treat him like he is, right? I'm not giving up on him."

Cheryl managed to compose herself after a few minutes and an uneasy silence fell between them as she tugged the hospital gown up on Brendan's shoulder where it had slipped down, dabbing her eyes and nose at the same time. She smoothed her hand over Brendan's face and exhaled a long tremulous sigh.

"Jack said when yis got back to him, he thought Bren was dead." Cheryl said absently, her eyes dreamlike as if she could almost see the scene that had been his nightmare last night. "He said Walker's car had gone by the time he had gotten back to his." Steven nodded his head, his jaw tightening at the name and remembering dropping the car keys when he fell from the car.

She looked towards Steven, her wet eyes widening as she halted her hand on Brendan's face. "So he must have been hiding while you two looked for ar' Brendan then? Oh Ste pet, you could have ran straight into him."

"I know, proper scary that." He shook his head with a wry smile. "But if...if I had ran into him, I...I..."

"Oh Ste." She reached over and held his hand, squeezing it tightly before releasing it and looking back to Brendan with a sad sigh.

"I wonder how he's gonna react when he hears that bastard's still out there somewhere."

Steven suddenly felt a great wave of inexplicable anxiety at the thought of Brendan finding out that despite his actions, Walker was still alive. He was not sure if the feeling came from the fact that Brendan had given everything to protect Steven, and regardless of all he had done, Walker still posed a threat. How Brendan would react to this Steven did not know, but he did know that he didn't want him finding out before he was ready.

"He dunt need to know Cheryl, and don't you tell him, right? He only kept on going 'cause he thought he were protecting me, him thinking he killed Walker were the only reason he held on! Promise me you wont tell him until he's ready!"

"But Ste love, he has ter know! What if he comes back for ar' Bren and he doesn't know he's alive?"

"He won't right? Trust me, I'll deal with it on me own if he comes back, right?"

"Yeh can't even look after yerself Ste!" She laughed derisively.

"Please Cheryl, dunt tell him 'til he's ready." He wasn't even ready to accept it himself, and knew that these confusing feelings came from the place in his head in which he still cowered beneath Walker's body and intense glare, sure that he would never escape it. "Cheryl please."

Something in his voice made the smirk freeze on Cheryl's face and her brows crease together in worry, as if she suddenly understood that his feelings and thoughts were not exactly fully rational.

"Alright love, I won't say anything until he is ready, okay?"

Steven nodded his head and changed the conversation, feeling uncomfortable at his strange frame of mind.

"Here, you know Walker's cousin, right? Jack said he'd an anarism or something."

"Aneurysm?"

"Yeah, that. You don't think...?"

Cheryl looked down at her hands, not quite able to reach his eyes.

"Ar' Brendan's always been a fighter Ste, you only need look at what's happened ter him in the past two years ter know that. But sometimes, peoples luck just...runs out..."

"So you're giving up on him, yeah?" He just could not control himself and cursed his emotions that seemed to run so close to the surface that everything he said came out brusque and angry sounding.

"No love! I'm just saying, maybe this time...well we need to be ready, just in case."

Silence fell again as they both contemplated her words. Steven knew that Cheryl had spent more time in hospitals with Brendan over the years than she ever should have needed to. He was aware that she had been in this very position more times that he knew, and that every time she would wonder if it was Brendan's last time; his luck had to give out eventually. But he just could not give up on Brendan now, not when they had worked so hard to stay alive.

Just then a woman approached and introduced herself as the ward doctor and Steven recognised her as the one who had treated him last night in the emergency room.

"I wonder if I might have a talk with you in private Miss Brady."

"Whatever yeh have ter say, say it in front of us both." Cheryl replied, showing Steven a weak but warm smile. "Ste here is family."

The doctor nodded as she pulled the curtains closed and stood at the end of the bed with her notes.

"As you know, we have managed to stabilise your brother, but as yet he has shown no signs of willful movement or waking. The next forty eight hours will tell us more about his condition and we will be carrying out more tests this afternoon."

"What do you mean no willful movement, what does that even mean?" Cheryl interrupted, her eyes wide and worried.

"It means that Mr Brady is in a coma and we will not know the extent of the damage incurred by the AG11."

"What's AG11?" She asked confused.

"It is the name of the narcotic that was used on both your brother and Mr Hay, more commonly known as Blue Fire. There are still large amounts of AG11 in Mr Brady's system but the levels are falling slowly and we hope to know more in the next forty eight hours when the levels have dropped completely. It has to be said that the dose he was given over a prolonged period was exceedingly high and I worry what damage might have been done."

"How'd you mean?" Steven finally found his voice.

"AG11 has been known to induce strokes, heart attacks, it can leave people with severe brain damage…are you alright Mr Hay?"

Steven had began to shake and Cheryl looked at him with concern as the doctor walked round and placed a steadying hand on his shoulder.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine." But he wasn't, he was most certainly not alright. Steven looked towards the man in the hospital bed and felt his lip tremble again."When will you know? Like, that he's not, you know….?"

"Well, we won't know anything until we have done more tests, and ultimately, if and when he wakens."

"What you mean if? You mean...he might be like this forever?"

The doctor grimaced, looking from Steven to a shaken Cheryl to Brendan and back to her clipboard.

"Mr Hay, you need to understand that not only was he given one of the most potent drugs out there, but he was also in a road traffic accident that has left him with considerable…."

"You think I don't know that?" He said with a raised voice, getting to his feet as his hands gripped the bed rails. "I were there, right? I were there, I saw it. I…I saw it all and…" The room was spinning and his legs were threatening to give way, then Cheryl was suddenly next to him, holding him while all the grief and mental anguish that had been so close to the surface broke through and crushed him.

"Mr Hay I think it is best that you…"

"It's okay Doctor, I'll look after him." Cheryl managed to say, holding him tighter as she helped him back down into the wheelchair. She knelt beside the chair and looked up into his battered face as she smoothed his hair.

"Ste love, do yer want to..."

"No, I'm not leaving him..."

"Alright pet, alright." She brushed her fingers though his hair and looked towards the doctor, who nodded sympathetically and left them alone behind the closed curtains. She brought her chair around and sat it next to Steven then leaned over the arm of his to hold him.

"He'll be alright love." She said as she rocked him gently, much like the way Brendan did when he was upset, calming and reassuring him. "If he's gonna come back fer anyone, he'll come back fer you. All they're sayin' is that we should be prepared, yeah?"

He nodded his head as he straightened himself in the chair, the room still spinning crazily but a little less so. He knew that he should be resting in his own bed, but the urge to be near Brendan was too much to ignore. He could not even think of not being near him, he needed to be there when he woke and no one was going to stop him.

"I'm not giving up on him, right? I'm not."

Cheryl nodded her head as she wiped away her tears, not caring about her makeup anymore. She leaned her head on Steven's shoulder and sighed as she pickled up Brendan's hand.

"Yis are both the same you two, yeh know that? He was the same that day yeh were the one lying in the hospital bed, just as upset, just as angry. He never gave up on yer and I know yeh won't give up on him." She lifted her head to look at him and placed her arm around his shoulder. "I'd expect no less from either of yis."

"Thanks Cheryl."

Cheryl placed her head back on Steven's shoulder and he bend his over until his head rested on hers. They sat like that for a while, neither of them having the words or strength to continue to speak, both wanting to be strong for the other, but neither really coping at all as Brendan lay there oblivious to all around him. Steven listened to the rhythmic noises of the machines, finding that in a weird way they were quite soothing and he soon found himself nodding off, his eyes slowly closing as he leaned more heavily onto Cheryl. But his peace was short lived when it was shattered as the machines began to alarm loudly in warning, scaring them both witless.

The curtains were thrown back and people ran to the bedside, pulling Steven's wheelchair from the bay and into the corridor out of the way. Cheryl stood beside him, her eyes wide as fresh tears tracked down her face.

"Mr Brady?" The doctor asked as she opened Brendan's eyes and shone a light in them, checking the pupils for reaction. "Mr Brady can you hear me?"

The machines continued to alarm and the noise was frightening. Brendan began writhing in the bed and the doctor and nurses had difficulty getting near him.

"What's happening to him?!" Cheryl's voice was shrill and scared and suddenly they were both herded down to the visitors room to wait, the nurse explaining that the doctor would come and see them when she could.

The waiting room was tiny and claustrophobic and stank of babies puke and detergent. Old torn magazines lay haphazardly on the small table and a water tower bubbled occasionally in the corner of the room. It felt as if they had been forgotten as time passed and no one came to see them, only adding to their anxiety. Cheryl paced back and forth clearly agitated, her heels clicking on the hard floor irritatingly as Steven sat in his wheelchair rubbing his head. The painkillers he had been given earlier were waring off as his head, face and body just began to throb with pain which was growing stronger by the second. Cheryl's constant pacing began to annoy him and just when he was sure he could not take it any longer, the doctor walked in and they both looked at her expectantly, preparing themselves for the worst.

"He's awake." She said with a smile as she saw the relief wash over them both. "He's not out of the woods yet, but it's a good sign."

"Can we see him?" Steven asked, gritting his teeth against the building pain in his body.

"Yes, for a few minutes at least. He is still very weak and you, Mr Hay are also still very ill." She looked at him sternly as if she knew that he was trying to hide his pain and he smiled back at her meekly, grateful that she wasn't just going to push him back to his own ward.

They quickly made their way out of the waiting room and into the ward, eager to see Brendan. Cheryl pushed Steven's wheelchair and the closer they got, they could see that Brendan had been disconnected from his breathing tube and lay with is eyes closed tightly in an attempt to squeeze out the harsh lighting above him. Cheryl's heels clicked on the hard floor and Brendan turned his head towards the sound and opened his eyes.

He looked so drained and ill but he managed a wide smile and his face lit up full of joy merely at the sight of them. He attempted to straighten himself up in the bed but was clearly too weak, only managing little more than a shrug at best. Steven could do nothing but shake his head incredulously while smiling back, the relief at seeing Brendan awake washing over him and soothing his taxed mind. When they reached the bed, Steven reached forward and took his hand, feeling Brendan squeeze his and hold it as tightly as he was able. His mouth opened and he whispered Steven's name while looking at him as if he was the only thing in the entire world worth looking at and suddenly the ward was not the scary place it had been, suddenly the machines did not sound so ominous and suddenly, Steven realised that Brendan Brady had kept his promise, and had kept on breathing for him.

TBC...

Finally a little break from the angst? I think you were due it...for now... Feed me cookie comments! :D