A/N: Well, here's chapter eleven, one big long one without many breaks, but with a little more development of the whole Ebony/Steve relationship. R&R if you care to!

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"I am going home," Ebony snapped, pulling her bag out of Matt's hands as she rooted through it and selected a shirt two sizes too big. The physiotherapist had strapped her back up in something akin to a corset to protect her back, and the cast she'd ruined over Bovver's head had been replaced and recovered in rude rhyming slang. Add that to the fact she'd been laid in bed for three days after she'd woken up, Ebony was bored out of her skull.

"You can't go home, look at the state of you!" Ebony gave Matt a look and he put one hand up in defeat then laughed. "I guess I should know better than to tell you what to do."

"Damn right you should," she agreed, struggling into the shirt and settling it over the cast and the corset with a sigh. "I hate these bloody things – they never fit right."

"You would complain if it fit right or not," Steve added as he stepped around the curtain to a smirk on his face. He looked like he'd aged about ten years in the last two weeks, the stress of losing his wife and son, his brother being in a coma and the knowledge that Tommy Hatcher was not finished in his revenge against the Green Street Elite was keeping Stevie Dunham up at night.

"Oh, great, another fucking expert," Ebony replied, zipping up her bag deftly with her right hand and leaning her elbow of her left hand against the bag to hold it still. "What're you doing here, anyway?" she asked as she fetched her handbag from the locker beside her bed.

"My stitches had to come out, and I figured you'd want a lift home," Steve replied quietly, sitting on the bed and placing her bag on his lap. He had the same quality as his brother in that no matter where they stood or sat, they just seemed to fit into the room or location they were in. She stuck her tongue out at him as she slung her handbag over her right shoulder and paused in front of him.

"Fine, but you can carry the holdall," she told him before walking a little unsteadily towards the nurses' station to discharge herself. She signed the paperwork automatically, used to signing such forms when she was allowed to work, and took the discharge letter from the nurse on duty.

"Don't forget, Dr King, that you have physiotherapy next Wednesday," the nurse said sternly, and Ebony flashed her a smile.

"I wont, thanks for looking after me and stuff – I know that doctors are the worst patients," she apologised, and the nurse laughed.

"You have been rather frustrating, but nothing that we can't deal with. And anyway, the steady stream of handsome male visitors more than makes up for your personality," the nurse teased, leaning around Ebony to oogle at Steve and wink at him. "Is he single?"

"Yep, but way out of your league," Ebony replied hautily, grabbing her handbag off the counter and hobbling as quickly as she could manage towards the lifts, with Matt and Steve hurrying behind her. "Horny bitch."

"Pardon me?" Steve asked at Ebony's sudden outburst.

"S'alright, that nurse had an eye on you, but I put her off," she replied coldly, and the two men accompanying her exchanged glances which she pretended not to see. She jabbed frantically at the button for the ground floor, leaning against the wall to take some of the pain out of her back. "When will they invent button technology that understands urgency?"

"You only have to press it once, the lift is already moving," Steve chided, pulling her finger away from the button, and sighing when she angrily stuffed her hand in her pocket with a huffing noise. "You never change, Ebbsy."

"You'd know something was up if I did," she replied as the doors opened into the main atrium of the hospital, that was built separately to the A&E department. The atrium was full of pieces of artwork and dotted with plaques depicting royalty who had opened various wards and areas of the hospital over the years, and housed the shop and a coffee stand, though the A&E staff referred to it as the 'Fuelling Station'. Ebony paused and turned to Matt, knowing he wanted to stay and wait by Pete's bedside – if for no other reason but to keep Bovver away. "You come and visit me, okay? Don't spend every moment here, or you'll go barking," she told him and hugged him tightly, surprising him a bit. "And for fucks sake, ask Nicola out before she drives me mad!" she scolded, slapping his cheek gently before moving away from him to follow Steve to his car.

"You like my new car?" Steve asked her as he unlocked a huge Landrover Discovery with the remote, a smile of pride on his face.

"Yeah, I remember you first car, too. A poxy little Astra that looked like West Ham gift shop threw up in it," she teased gently, eyeing up the car from a distance.

"You mean you remember the back seat," Steve replied, and Ebony put her hand across her mouth in mock-shock. "Don't pull that face at me, you know it's true." She walked over to him and punched his arm as she passed, pulling the door open and assessing the height of the seat.

"Steve? Little help, here," she called, throwing her bag into the footwell and looking nervously at the two-foot jump she was suppose to perform – with a fractured back. Oh, yeah, brilliant. She grabbed the inside of the door and the seat and tried to throw herself into the car, landing half in and half out of the door. "FUCK!"

"Now how fuckin' stupid do you look?" Steve laughed, and she aimed a kick in his direction which missed. He walked around the car and got in the drivers seat to pull the hapless female into the passenger seat, a ridiculous smile plastered on his face the whole time.

"Wipe the smile off your face, you look like you slept all night with a fucking hanger in your mouth," Ebony replied breathlessly, pulling the door closed a little harder than she intended to, causing the whole car to rock on it's suspension.

"Mind the panels, Dove," Steve said then blushed. He hadn't called her that in a long, long time, and she giggled.

"Man, I haven't heard that nickname in a while," she admitted, and they both laughed as he started the car and pulled away. "What is it you do, exactly? I mean, a common boy of some god-awful estate driving an £80,000 car is a little odd."

"Ah, well, I sell businesses around the world to other businesses, like, a merger and stuff," he explained, and she frowned at him. "Right, you're smart, you don't need to be treated like a kid, I remember. Basically, if the NHS want to buy Lloyds Pharmacy, I organise it."

"I'm sorry, I thought I actually fell asleep during that wonderful description," she said with a yawn, and he slapped her leg. "Oi, injured bird here, you have to play nice."

"Remind me, why?" She tutted in response and began fiddling with the buttons on the door to open and close the window, tilt the mirror and change the seat position. Then, she found the button that set off the vibrations and massager in the chair.

"You kinky sod, no wonder you like this car so bloody much," she said with her voice quivering from the vibrating seat. Steve laughed as he reached the IDR, accelerating up to the speed of the traffic before they spoke again.

"Ebbsy, why didn't you move out of our flat when we broke up?" he asked her quietly, and she suddenly found a stain on her jeans incredibly interesting. "Ebbs, don't avoid the question."

"I liked it there, even if you didn't," she replied curtly, trying to cross her arms but finding herself unable to because of the cast and the corset supporting her back. "Steve, what changed? What made living and being with me so bad that you married some Yank?"

"I changed, Ebbs. I couldn't carry on with the GSE after Tommy Junior was killed," he told her, and she snorted in laughter.

"Steve, you didn't even try to carry on. Not once did you try and talk to me, not once! I tried for weeks to help you, but you just... Pushed me away, and now..." She stopped as he pulled up outside the block of flats, and she felt sick at the thought of finally being on her own. Pulling his hand off the steering wheel, she scribbled her new mobile phone number on his hand. "My phone got lost somewhere between the Warf and the hospital, so I've got Dave's old one. Don't leave it too long, Steve," she warned, pushing the door open and undoing her seatbelt, sliding to the floor and closing the door. She resisted the urge to shout abuse at him as she pulled the boot door open and retrieved her holdall, pulling the flat keys out of the front pocket and slamming the door behind her.

She felt sick as she unlocked the door into the foyer, looking around the familiar hallway for a few seconds until she heart the monster car pull away, before moving towards the lifts and pressing the call button. The lift opened, and she was greeted by the smiling face of her elderly neighbour, Mr Crisp. "Hiya, how's it going?" she asked him, putting her hand out to catch the doors for him as he wheeled his shopper out of the lift.

"Better than you my dear," he said, and she laughed. "How are you?"

"Sore, stiff, achey, but I'll live. Thanks for the book, by the way," she said honestly, and the old man waved her thanks off.

"Think no more of it, you just get some rest," he said, pushing past her to go shopping. She stepped into the lift and hit the correct button, very glad to be going home. And, when she opened the door of her flat, she couldn't help but smile widely at the decorations put up by her family, and the large bow tied around her dog's neck. He flopped over to her, and she scratched his ears as she walked to the coffee table to read the note left there.

Ebony,

I've stocked up your fridge, paid the bills and looked after Benjy for you, you look after yourself now,

Mum and Dad

PS – Don't drink all the cider at once!

She laughed and tossed the note aside to put her holdall on the coffee table and started to unpack. She shuddered, like something had traipsed over her grave. "Shit," she whispered, hobbling to the front door and locking it from the inside, making sure to put the chain on before she stepped away from it. She hurried around the apartment, locking all the windows and pulling the drapes across all of them until the whole place was bathed in darkness, where she slipped onto the floor in front of the kitchen cabinets and cried. She was scared, really, bone-deep scared of what could happen now she was finally alone. What if her stitches ripped? Her cast broke? What if... What if Tommy Hatcher and Mike Thompson came to finish her off?

She stood up unsteadily, pulling herself up on the cabinets and went for her mobile, hitting speed dial one before she realized who she'd end up calling. Pete is at hospital, Ebony, think again. She opened the phone-book and read the list of people on it. Bovver, Ike, Swill... She shook her head and fought the old cast out of her bag, dialling the number she found there. "Steve?"

A/N: Ooooh, another cliff-hanger! Sorry guys, but it keeps you interested ;).