A/N: A shorter chapter than usual. Had intended and wrote Ch 11 as few weeks into living together but then I wrote this tid bit and decided to publish it and push the other stuff to Ch 12.

Chapter 11

If I hadn't already been emotionally drained the phone call I made to Amy telling her of my temporary living arrangements would have alone left me wilted. She pleaded with me to not do this to myself to not let "that man" back under my skin. I wanted to appease her but there was no way of knowing whether she was right or not. I couldn't assure her I would be fine at Brendan's. I couldn't tell her how it would all work out, because I didn't know. After what seemed like hours of Amy listing Brendan's bad deeds I finally wrapped up our epically long phone battle with "For fucksake Amy he's not going to murder me, I'll see you in the morning, alright?" I had raised my voice in annoyance and hung up before she could reply. Well, actually it already was morning, I had called her obscenely late which might have added to the hysteria. Everything seems more dramatic at 4am or I suppose this was properly dramatic at any hour, it was hard to tell anymore. I knew I shouldn't yell at Amy though she was only ever just looking out for me but I couldn't listen to anymore "save yourself" shit from anyone else.

"Lynsey's out" Brendan informed me when we got to his place. I chuckled to myself thinking of all the times he'd said in the past that Lynsey or Cheryl were out and how it had always been code for we could fuck for hours all over his old flat uninterrupted. But looking at him now I knew that wasn't what he meant. It wasn't code for anything, just a simple informational statement. Which was a bit of an oddity coming from Brendan who hardly ever said anything that wasn't a riddle or had a double meaning. But the man before me was tired, soulfully, physically, mentally tired. Had I alone done that to him?

"We could use her though, to look you over" He added. I didn't understand what he meant until he pointed to my face and I remembered. It had been such a long evening I had forgotten how it all started.

"Just a couple of bruises, Bren...suits me, I think" I half laughed but he didn't. He just gestured towards the guest room and told me he'd be in in a minute. I asked "why?" I meant why would he meet me in the guest room. I nearly said something sarcastic to do with his tucking me in but he shot off somewhere and left me alone to do as I was told.

I sat at the very edge of the pristinely made up guest room double bed, still a bit stoned and just waiting. I was lost in thought, though I guess not really considering I wasn't thinking of anything just staring at the walls lost in...nothingness, really. I didn't hear Brendan enter, I only noticed him when he was stood right in front of me holding out what looked to be neatly folded trackies and a t-shirt, his I assumed.

"Why don't you wash up, and change." he said nodding towards the bathroom door.

"Like a hotel"

"What?"

"A bathroom attached to the guest room...dead fancy."

A small smile crept across his face, then he cleared his throat and with that hid any trace of amusement. I hadn't meant it to be funny, I just had the sudden urge to fill the quiet space even if it happened to be with lame observations.

"Come on" he directed as he pushed open the bathroom door and started filling the sink with water before I had even stood up. I shuffled towards the the small room with my head down when out of the corner of my eye I caught a glimpse of a reflection of a man in the mirror. I spun around quickly and wildly to catch a glimpse of this person I believed to be behind me but when I got turned around there was no person standing there. I stood open mouthed trying to make sense of it, who was it, why would they be here. Was it one of those guys that beat me up? I hadn't caught a good look just the hint of a man in the mirror. I turned back around catching Brendan's concerned eye.

"What happened?"

"Someone's here." I said with a degree of concern but not nearly enough for someone whose thought they've spotted an intruder. I let my eyes settle again on the mirror, on the gaunt sad figure staring back at me. I stared intensely into the empty eyes and the swelling bruised up face before me. "I'd hate to be that guy." I said with a demented smirk, still staring nearly in disbelief at myself only looking away when my fascination began to shift into a more sickly feeling at my realization.

"What are you talking about, Steven?" Brendan asked his tone somewhat exasperated.

"nothing... it's just me." I sighed quietly. I didn't try to make sense of it, and neither did he.

"No one else is gonna hurt ye, I won't let anyone..." he trailed off looking me over sadly.

I cautiously lowered myself down to sit on the ledge of the tub while the aches of the night started to set in now that the adrenaline had more fully died down.

"How bad does it hurt...where all does it hurt?" he asked. He bent down and gently placed his hand at the side of my head and urged me to look up at him. He looked my face over not that there was anything to be done, he more than anyone knew that. Swelling goes down, bruises heal and the only real fix is time.

"it's ok." I replied softly, wincing as he applied a damp cloth to my forehead wiping away a bit of dried blood from a small cut. He leaned in closer and I lolled my forehead into the crook of his arm and he sighed as it made it difficult to finish the task at hand but he let me rest on him for a few moments anyway, relaxing as he smoothed his his free hand through my hair eventually massaging his way down my neck then my back. His nimble fingers pressing into my impossibly tense muscles. I let out a moan that sounded pornier than I'd have liked. I heard a short snort escape him in response.

His fingers slipped under the hem of my shirt which made me jolt straight up at the feeling of it. I had never really been with him in this sort of way, and the storm cloud of confusion started to roll through my mind. He didn't say anything. He tugged my shirt up over my head. I felt like shit. I felt like I'd been through a grinder and I didn't know what he wanted so I stood up because I needed to not be so close to him while I tried to concentrate to think everything through what anything meant. I wasn't facing him but I could feel him approaching me. He placed his hand on my side to pull me around coincidentally also pawing at a swollen area of my abdomen

"Would you piss the fuck off, Asshole" I yelled as I swung my hands around to push him away from me, landing a shove that nearly knocekd him off his feet. I wasn't even really yelling at him, it was the night; the circumstances. I was lost and blurry eyed and the sharp sting of pain made me bark at him. I thought he might be hurt because sometimes big bad Mr. Brady would give me hurt puppy eyes at the strangest of times but not this time. He understood, I could see he understood maybe had even been waiting for it. He knew what it was like to be reactionary, to feel the come down after a fight after all the action was over and to just feel raw. It didn't really get all that much easier even though I'd been kicked around more than any person should in a lifetime, the come down was always the same.

"I was just trying to...I wasn't..." He looked at me and away several times before holding the rag out to me in defeat hoping the gesture spoke for itself.

"I know." I reassured, he nodded a few times and left me on my own. I knew he wasn't trying it on with me and I knew he wasn't trying to hurt me. I just had been looking for the ugly, and I was paranoid and all stirred up.

I slipped on the clothes he had left me, the v-neck t-shirt dipped further down my chest than was decent, and I was swimming in the trackies, and had to pull the drawstring nearly as far as it would go.

When I reentered the bedroom Brendan was sitting in the exact spot I had been on the bed, on the very edge, leaned over with his arms resting on his knees.

The covers were pulled back and a glass of water was sat on the nightstand. And I climbed in without saying word.

"Just making sure you're set up...that everything's ok"

"It's fine"

"Good, then...I'll just go..." he stammered awkwardly as slowly made his way to the door.

I shut my eyes and started to drift off into sleep but I had that feeling the feeling you have when someones watching you. I could picture him leaning against the doorway staring at me. And normally it's a jarring creepy feeling even though about a million and half movies would indicate otherwise to know or feel someones watching you while you're unconscious. But somehow just then being watched over didn't feel so bad.