Chapter Eleven – In the morning

I open my sleeping dust encrusted eyes to see him lying back facing me. I don't want to wake him – he needs his rest, so I creep around him and make a dash for the door. Last night I felt the power return through my veins because Steven is safe in my arms and I will never let anyone take him from them again.

I don't know what was going to happen to Steven if they had taken him away from the hospital and I don't actually want to know because we are both safer living in denial. Steven asked me what would happen if they came back and I just held him close, kissed him and told him I wouldn't let that happen – I promised.

Bacon, eggs, toast and baked beans = our breakfast for this morning. I go into Steven room, our room and reach over to roll him towards me. He usually goes willingly; mostly because quite often he is awake already and he tells me he likes to listen to the oil in the frying pan bubbling and my low whistle. But today he won't move so I crawl over to his back and look at his face…

It's pale.

Maybe he's just sick… so I try and wake him again but this time I do it more vigorously. Nothing – his body is floppy. I then reach for his arm and place my two fingers on his wrist to check his pulse…

The doctors are working on him now. I might just be overreacting right? Yeah that's probably it, all this drama over the last few weeks has caused me to become even more paranoid – he's going to be fine…

"My Brady?" The doctor calls. I jump up from my seat instantly.

"How is he?" I ask trying to contain my nerves for the worst.

"Mr Brady you may want to sit down sir…" He points to the chair I was just sat on. I turn to look at him and then back at the chair in confusion.

"Mr Brady, Mr Hay inhaled a dangerous amount of smoke from the recent fire in your district… we did everything we possibly could to help him"

"No… no!" I can feel my skin bubbling.

"There was nothing more we could do for him sir"

"No… don't tell me he's… please!" My face is throbbing with anger and confusion.

"I understand your pain Mr Brady"

"NO!" I stand up and throw the chair across the corridor.

"Mr Brady! MR BRADY! I need you to calm down sir, for the sake of yourself and the other patients!" He gets in front of me and I see red. I hit him, hard, in the face. He looks at me in shock but doesn't say anything.

He must be used to this, distressed loved ones of patients. But he doesn't understand how I am feeling because I have lost Steven, after years of battles and weeks of pain trying to find – I have lost him when he was lying right next to me.

I collapse on the floor. I cry heavy into my arm. I don't care who sees because they need to know how this feels, I lost Niamh and now I've lost Steven – the love of my life. I feel a gentle pressure on my shoulder and as I look up I see the doctor whose face is sombre, he leans down next to me and rests his arm on my shoulder and I give in and place my head slowly into his arm.

"He… has… kids…" I say through tears.

"What are their names?" He asks without looking towards me.

"Leah and Lucas" I reply.

"Lovely names" He looks at me with a strong sympathy. "Mr Brady is there anyone we can call for you?"

"No" I gently prise myself up off the floor, wipe my tears and march purposefully towards the door and as I do I ignore the whispers, judgemental and sympathetic looks directed my way.

I hail a taxi from outside and as the door opens I look down at my feet to make them move, they are heavy like they are filled with sand. It feels like I am dragging myself away from the man I love. He's in there, all alone probably longing for me – no man, he's dead… he's dead…

I lean into my hands and only now do I realise the pain in my knuckles. The driver can hear me cry and he looks back in his rear-view mirror from time to time but says nothing. We arrive outside the flat and I pay the driver who looks sorrowfully at me, maybe taxi drivers have some sort of sixth sense to detect pain and heartache or maybe it's just I'm not trying to hide it.

Amy is standing at the door looking crippled with worry. I walk up the pathway – my face unchanging and she looks at me, searching for some sign of good news but I just hang my head. She crumbles into my arms and sobs uncontrollably.

"NO, NO!" Her voice is barely recognisable.

"I'm so sorry" I say crying at the same volume. I rub my hand over her back to soothe her.

"The kids…" She cries.

"Where are they?" I pull her face to look at mine.

"At my dad's"

"Right well we deal with ourselves first yeah? The kids don't need to come home to this"

"But we have to tell 'em!"

"We will… we will… just not yet right?" I sweep some of her hair away from her eyes and look into them seriously.

"Ok" She agrees.

We walk inside together; I support her with one arm over her shoulder and the other grasping her delicate hands. I stand in the kitchen and make a strong builder's brew for us both.

"Here ye are…" I place the cup on the table.

"How did it happen?" She looks up at me searchingly.

"Smoke inhalation" I cough slightly.

"Smoke inhalation? Why was Ste breathing in smoke?"

"There was a fire at our flat… I got out and Steven…" This is painful.

"What?" I can see she's shocked.

"He went missing for a few weeks; I've been tracking him down"

"What took you so long?" She says getting angry.

"People…" Is the best answer I can come up with.

"People…?" She sighs. "What kinda people?"

"The kind you don't wanna know Amy, trust me"

"Listen Brendan…" She says sternly. "Steven means the world to me, my kids mean the world to me and if I find out in any way that those people you're on about caused the death of Steven then there will be hell to pay! Do I make myself clear?"

"Perfectly" I reply, slightly stunned at Amy's unexpected yet justified outburst.

I killed him. Maybe not directly but Amy is right – those people, Carmichael and his gang did this, they killed Steven and I won't let them get away with it one second longer...