This chapter is kind of filler-y, since I haven't got any of my notes and all the major flashbacks that have already been written are on my laptop which has been getting repaired for getting on two months now . It's also majorly dialogue-heavy, even more so than usual, and is nearly entirely Christian/Syed (oh no, I can hear you yell). But God knows I enjoyed writing it, so, to hell with it.
Also, ALL of this chapter has been written in the past couple of days, which is highly unusual, most of the chapters have had stuff written months in advance (ergo why Roxy's pregnant with Dr. Al's baby and Syed's pretty friendly with Lucy early on). If you notice any inconsistencies with previous chapters that I've missed, sorry for that! I've reread the stuff posted so far (not narcissism- research purposes, when you've lost all your notes!) but I sometimes get confused between what has/what hasn't been posted. So, yeah, apologies if I've missed anything in the regard.
Also, sorry in advance, Indie. I think the NYD talk infected me with its depression. But no nice Amira, promise (that's next chapter bwahaha)! I don't think it's nearly-crying bad. It's just not very uplifting. And there are no hugs.
February 2012
Syed woke up and managed to sit up without hitting his head off the wood above. Seventh time lucky. It was a nice note to end his last endurance of that bed on. It was probably the fact that he wasn't stuffed up in the corner thanks to Christian commandeering three-quarters of the bed probably helped with that, though. That was when he noticed that his neck was missing its normal crick from being forced to rest his head against the ladder connecting the bunks. Christian had been up for a while, clearly.
He walked into the living room , where he found Christian staring vacant-eyed at GMTV. "What are you doing up?"
"I decided to explore the joys of ITV at 3AM. What is it about deaf people that makes them only watch telly at that hour?" he asked. "I've always wondered that. What are you doing up?"
He lifted the hand with his prayer mat in it by way of response.
"You're kidding. It can't be that la..." He glanced at his watch, then actually noticed what was on the screen. "Well, look at that. Must've gotten some kip after all."
Syed squinted at his face, concerned. "You don't look like you got much."
"Told you, I couldn't sleep," he said, through a yawn. "Decided to get up and do some packing."
Syed looked around, and noticed the two suitcases in exactly the same place as they had been the night before, except open. "I hate to be pedantic but you... haven't done any packing. Opening a suitcase is not packing."
"It's a start, though," he replied, mock-brightly.
Syed sighed. "This is like the time you were 'decorating' by opening a tin of paint, isn't it?"
"That paint was hideous. And who did most of the work once you actually picked a colour that didn't make me want to claw my eyes out?"
"And what's wrong with the suitcases? Don't match your dressing gown?"
"I...got distracted."
"Look, it's not like we've brought much. We can do it when I get back from Mum's. It'll take five minutes."
"I didn't want to pack."
Syed frowned. "You just said you did."
"I mean... look, the reason I couldn't sleep, was I kept thinking of something you said to me once."
February 2010
Since he'd told him to stay away, Christian had. His fingers had lingered over pressing call so many times, and he'd walked past the Masoods' more slowly than any other house on the street, so tempted to knock. It was hardly respect for Zainab or Masood that stopped him in his tracks, though. He just didn't want to upset Syed any further. But he was getting worried now. It was the longest he'd gone without seeing him since- well, since they'd met. When Jane had mentioned in passing that she was snowed under down at the Unit, because Masood and Zainab were 'elsewhere'- given the lack of specificity, the implication was that they didn't want to share the same oxygen as any Clarke DNA- his ears had pricked up, and he couldn't help going down to see how Syed was holding up.
Jane noticed the look on his face. "Don't you dare. After all the trouble you've caused..."
"I just want... need to see how he is, Jane. Look, if I wanted to cause trouble, I'd go down there, all guns blazing, while Masood and Zainab were there, wouldn't I? And I'm not. Look, I couldn't give a crap what they think of me, but Syed does. That's enough for me not to want to cause trouble, Jane. Just... give me half-an-hour before coming down, yeah? And ring me if there's any sign of them, yeah?"
She sighed, and covered her face with her hands. "Fine. Fine. Thirty minutes. Thirty. And as far as I'm concerned, I slept in. The last thing we need is full-out war. You know how Ian gets with feuds. He'd destroy the business before admitting his side was wrong."
Christian smiled sadly. "I promise this won't take long."
"Christian?" Jane called after him, stopping him in his tracks.
"Yeah?" he said, still facing the door.
"Is there even the slightest possibility you could ever just... leave this alone?"
"You know I can't." He paused. "I do love him, Jane. This isn't like you said before."
"I know you do. You think I'd be aiding and abetting you to do this if I didn't?"
"I'll see you later, all right?"
"Twenty-seven minutes, Christian," she called after him.
As he rushed down the stairs of the Unit, he was thinking, technically speaking, he hadn't actually been fired. But he thought sleeping with the son of the Muslim partners of the business pretty much involved immediate grounds for dismissal. It was hardly like he was going to go to a tribunal for unfair dismissal. He was confident his failing to turn up to work wasn't a source of complaint in Zainab's eyes any longer. He stood back for a few seconds, watching Syed working methodically, without any enthusiasm. And he was fairly sure staring into space and a sharp knife was not going to end well. Instead of calling out and startling him, potentially leading to actual bloodshed- though they'd come close in the last couple of days- he just walked up to him and gently took the knife from him.
Syed started. "When did you get here?"
"Just," he assured him. "I figured given how many times you've cut yourself whilst paying full attention, doing it while staring at the incredibly fascinating wall would be unwise."
"Yeah. I shouldn't even be here, really. I'm sure I'm breaking some sort of employment law operating sharp objects while functioning on three hours' worth of interrupted sleep in three days. But it's better than being alone..."
Christian watched his face carefully, looking for any sign of anger, but found nothing but a mixture of tiredness and sadness and guilt. Even more so than usual. "I've been wanting to ring you, and... I just thought I should leave you alone for a bit. Get your head together, you know."
"Yeah, it was probably for the best. I didn't mean to...when I... it wasn't you I was angry at. You know that, right?"
Christian shrugged. "I wasn't exactly being Mr. Understanding. You were upset. I get it."
"I didn't... everything's such a mess. How did I let things get here? I don't remember."
He covered his face with his hands and slid to the ground as if he no longer had to strength to keep himself upright. He rested his back against the counter and looked up at Christian. It was only when the fluorescent lights hit him directly like this that Christian truly appreciated how utterly exhausted he looked. He'd seen Syed look upset before, stressed beyond belief, angry, heartbroken, but never so defeated. The look on his face was one he imagined that terminally ill people had on theirs when they were tired of fighting. And he looked so, so young. Christian often forgot about the age gap, but it was hard to ignore when he was towering over him, and Syed looked so vulnerable.
"Christian, I'm just tired," he whispered. His head was bowed towards the floor, and he was picking a non-existent thread out of his jeans. "God knows, I'm just so tired of hurting everyone I love."
Christian looked down at him for a moment, before sitting down beside him. Syed froze when their legs made contact. "You... you can't help being what you are," Christian reminded him gently.
Syed lifted his head, but just stared forward, not turning to look at him. "I can help hurting people."
"Amira? Maybe. Your family? Not so much. Look, face it, Sy, you could have sat your mother down the first time you were having 'thoughts' and told her flat out... it wouldn't have made the slightest bit of difference. She would have reacted the same way."
"Not so badly, though," Syed pointed out.
"Really? I don't know. The issue your mother has isn't how she found out, it's you being gay. That would never have changed. And your dad? Well, he was never going to make a public announcement of it, was he?"
"It would've been better if I'd stayed away," he admitted, an intensity belying the quietness of his voice. He still couldn't bring himself to look at him directly. Christian thought, or at least hoped, that just knowing that he was beside him was comfort enough for Syed.
"With your mum missing you like mad, and your dad having all this built-up resentment? Yeah, sounds like a good plan, that," Christian said.
"And now Mum won't even care enough to miss me and Dad's got even more resentment. Great thinking that was. You know, I keep thinking, I should just... leave. Make it easier for everyone. But that's the coward's way out, right? I can't just get up and leave after everything I've done. It's my mess, I've got to clean it up."
Christian hesitated for a few moments before replying, "There's... some things you can't clean up, Sy."
"I know," he said, his voice tinged with regret.
"You know, I'm still here."
"So you are. What's up with that?" Syed asked, and Christian could see his lips curling slightly out of the corner of his eye. "You a masochist or something?"
Christian wasn't going to let him make a joke out of it. "You know why. I love you."
Syed paused for a long, awkward moment. Any trace of a smile was entirely gone from his face. This silence and discomfort after those three words was hardly unfamiliar to Christian. He'd come to expect it. One day, he'd actually say it. "Yeah, masochist's the word." Not today, though.
"And you're not?" Christian asked incredulously. "I mean, sticking around Walford..."
"What're you saying?" Syed snapped. "Are you saying I should just run off, abandon my family?"
Christian took his hand before correcting him with, "We."
"I can't," he said, but didn't separate their now-joined hands. "I need to..."
"Fix the things you broke?" Christian asked. "Hate to say it, but maybe they're beyond fixing. A little downtime... cooling-off period isn't going hurt anyone, is it?"
Syed rolled his eyes. "Except, you know, everyone. You can't just leave your family."
"They'll understand," he insisted, his voice slightly pleading now.
"Really," Syed replied sceptically. "Lucy and Jane will just be thrilled you're running off with me, you're right. "
He paused to consider the validity of that statement. "Well, no. I don't care, Syed."
"Maybe you ought to," he bit out.
"I do," he insisted. "Of course I care about them. I just... right now, you're more important to me. You need someone. You need me."
Syed tore his hand away and stood up. "I need to get out of here."
Christian rose to his feet as well, standing behind him. "Desperate to get home to the awkward silences, and sideways resentful looks, are we?"
He didn't turn back to face Christian, his next sentence was delivered to the wall. "Running away would solve nothing, Christian."
Christian shrugged. "Never said it would."
Syed spun on his heel to face him. "Running off into the sunset?" Syed asked, half-sneering. "Is that seriously what you picture for us?"
"No..."
"Yeah, yeah, it is. You imagine that getting me away from Mummy and Daddy will solve everything. Everything will just be magically better when Mum's not whispering how badnaughtywrong it is in my ear. Well, it won't. I'm still going to be Muslim, I'm still going to be me. It's not like it'll magically fix everything."
"I never said it would. I just said. I just think it would be better for everyone..."
"Better for you, you mean."
"Everyone includes me, yeah, but I'm not... I'm thinking of you in this."
"Me with you. God, you don't change, do you? It's just... you just don't understand."
"Maybe I don't," Christian acquiesced.
"This thing we have, whatever it is, it doesn't define me."
"But it defines me?"
"You put it before your family," Syed pointed out.
"I put you before my family. My family doesn't need me..." He trailed off, realising how that sounded. Realising how Syed would take the implication that he was in any way dependent on Christian.
He snorted. "And I do? What? Do you think I can't live without you? Give me a break," he
"I didn't... I mean..." he stopped, considering. "They've all got each other, they'll be fine."
Syed scrubbed his hands over his face, agitated. "And I'm just, what? On my own?"
"Well, your family's hardly the Waltons at the moment, are they?" Christian snapped.
"And whose fault is that?"
Christian scoffed. "You're seriously blaming me."
Syed shook his head emphatically, and his face softened. "I'm blaming me. Christian, this isn't just going to go away with a couple of weeks in the Lake District, or whatever it is you've got in your head."
"It wasn't. That wasn't what I meant in the slightest and you know it.
"I'm staying here, with my family. I'm going to fix this."
"Yeah, well, good luck with that," Christian spat.
The door slamming shut behind him echoed off the office walls. The next time Christian saw him, it would be two weeks later and Syed would be telling him to give up all hope.
February 2012
Christian sighed. "Look, do you remember that time just after your parents found out about... us?"
"Well, you'll have to be a bit more specific..." Syed asked, confused.
"That... conversation we had in the Unit, I mean. A couple of days after."
"Yeah, I remember," Syed said, scratching his nose, uncomfortable. "You were right. Unfixable as it turned out."
"You imply I'm ever wrong."
"That's true. Christian the Infallible was your nickname as a kid, right?"
His eyebrows lifted ."One of many."
"I don't think I want to know."
"You could probably guess most of them. I'll tell you later."
"Great. I can't wait," he drawled. "Look, Christian, whatever I said... you can't take it to heart. You know the state I was in back then..."
" No, it wasn't anything hurtful. Well, not really. I was just talking about... you said, I ought to put my family first. And I think you were right about that. I think I should."
Syed frowned. "Well, you can visit as much as you'd like. I mean, I know we're not exactly awash with cash since we bought the car but..."
"Okay, when did this whole 'we' business come into the car?" he burst in. "If I remember correctly, I came home one day and it was parked outside. I'm not even allowed to drive it."
Syed shook his head, pityingly. "God, your memory really is deteriorating in old age... it's so sad. It's insured in both of our names."
"It is?"
"You filled the form out!" he exclaimed.
"Yeah, but you told me that was because the payments were coming out of the joint back account. I really need to start reading things before I sign them. Could be signing up to be your slave or anything." He paused, brow creasing. "Wait. If it's insured in both of our names, how come I'm not allowed to drive it?"
Syed looked at him as if he was stupid."Because you're a terrible driver! I only put your name on the insurance forms- despite it pushing our premiums up a ridiculous level, by the way- in case of an emergency!"
"I am not," Christian said, genuinely offended. "That's slander."
"Are too," Syed replied, with much grace and maturity. "Seriously, is there a pothole you've ever missed? And you do realise the national speed limits apply to everyone, right? You've got about eleven points on your licence."
"Look, just because some of us don't sit at a perfectly perpendicular angle when we're driving, with our hands exactly on the 10 and 2 at all times..." he said. "Also, most of those points were for drunk driving, not speeding. And I got them years ago."
"I do not sit at a perfectly perpendicular angle..." Syed started to point out.
"Please. If someone drew an outline of you while you were driving, the outline could serve as an L-plate for learner drivers."
"Look, just because I am a perfect driver in every which way does not diminish the fact that you're a terrible driver, and any person who respects human life would try to minimise your road use as much as physically possible..."
"Look, anyway, regardless of whether or not I'm a terrible driver-it's fairly self-evident I am not, by the way- I just think...visiting's not enough."
Syed frowned, humour fading from his face. "What?"
"I think... I mean, I'd like for us to stay here."
Syed stared at him, wide-eyed. "In Walford?"
"Yeah? That is where 'here' is," Christian said, bemused by Syed's pointing out the obvious.
"...with my parents right across the street?"
"Last time I checked, that's where your parents lived."
"...where pretty much everyone has figured out we're together?"
"That's right."
"You're... joking, right?" Syed asked incredulously.
"It's not a very funny one if I am, is it? My sister has cancer and..."
"She's got a husband, and three kids, and a bunch of friends. You can visit her whenever you want! I'll drive you up! God forbid, I'd even lend you the car if I had to work." He hesitated, reconsidering. "Actually, you can just get the train."
"I just... I want to be here for her all the time," Christian whispered.
"You don't need to be, though," he insisted.
"I... I haven't been here for nearly two years. I think I owe her being here for a few weeks until this is sorted."
"I get that you're feeling bad, Christian. But she's got a family and friends, it's not like she's been lonely the past couple of years, it it?"
"I know, you're right. I just... she called me up here. She obviously wants me here."
"But... I can't stay here, Christian. I promised work I'd be back tomorrow."
Christian covered his face with his hands. "Get a transfer! You're always moving about to accommodate them, maybe it's time for them to return the favour."
"I need to give them more than a day," he reminded him. "Anyway, I was hardly doing that out of the goodness of my heart, was I? I wanted to move about."
"You know what we were doing all that time? Moving about? We were looking for somewhere to call home. Coming back here... it's home."
"Leeds is home," Syed replied, sounding rather petulant.
"No, it's not. Not for me."
"And here is? Where everyone knows all our business?"
"See, that's the thing, Syed," he replied. "I don't care about that."
"You know how uncomfortable it makes me. I told you when we first moved away..."
"You mean after that awful party with some of the ugliest people I've ever seen in my life?"
"Yeah, the one that you forced me to go to. I was reluctant because it actually involved us leaving the flat for reasons other than avoiding bedsores?"
"I should've known it was a bad idea, involving us in a situation that involved leaving that dingy hole of a flat for more than five minutes."
April 2010
Christian stormed into the flat, seething. He'd have slammed the door behind him, if he wasn't so concerned about it disintegrating at being closed with anything but the utmost gentleness. Syed followed, trying not to show his annoyance at what was clearly an insane overreaction to not taking someone's hand in public.
"What is your problem?" Christian demanded.
"I haven't got a problem," he replied. "I'm not the one storming out of places and making all of our neighbours think you're insane."
"You love me, right?"
"Come on. What sort of question is that?"
"Then why can't you show it?" Christian asked.
"You always say what other people think doesn't matter. I think what's between you and me should stay that way. I don't understand your problem with that."
"Because you are still ashamed of who you are."
"I'm not ashamed of us," Syed said, sincerely.
Some of the anger went out of him at the genuine feeling behind that sentence. "But you're ashamed of you," Christian replied. "That's half of us."
"I don't get what the big deal is, Christian. Just me being here with you, that shows how much I care about you. I left my whole family, my life, so I could be with you. And you're getting a stick up your rear end 'cos I don't want to play kissy-face in public?"
"That's not what I want," Christian told him.
"Then what do you want? Me to wear a sign? 'Property of Christian Clarke'? Or, hey, let's tie ourselves together, so we'll never be apart."
The anger flooded right back on in. "Stop being stupid. All I want..."
"What? What do you want from me?"
"Just leave it, yeah?" he snapped.
"They always say don't go to bed angry. Well, don't go to sleep angry. Something like that. I've gone to bed angry plenty of times..."
"I'm not angry."
"Funny, 'cos you're pouting and scowling."
"I'm not." Syed started doing an incredibly exaggerated version of Christian's facial expressions. Christian could feel his anger melting into laughter, and he really didn't want it to. "Pack it in, Syed, this isn't fun..." He gave up, and had to let the laughter quaking in his throat escape.
Syed beamed at him. He sat down on the bed beside him. "Christian, I love you. But... I'm not like you. I care what other people think. I know I shouldn't give a crap, but I do. And the last thing I want is for this... the most important thing in my life... is for people to be judging it, judging us, passing comment on it... I want it to be between us. And I'm sorry. I really am. I just... can't change who I am. And I'll never be comfortable with it. It's not about you, it's about me and I... it's just not me. Can you understand that?"
"Yeah."
Syed tilted his head to one side. "No, you don't."
"I don't, but I... I'll respect it. Just don't expect me to hide who I am."
Syed rolled his eyes, good-naturedly. "As if you could if you tried."
"What exactly are you trying to imply here? I'm the shy and retiring sort."
"It is one of your most attractive qualities. Along with your modesty and sense of decorum..."
"You know me so well."
Syed wrapped his arms around his neck, smiling. "Oh! Not to forget your incredibly low sex drive. I mean, really, you're practically asexual."
Christian placed his hands over Syed's arms. "And you're so demanding. I think you've got a problem," he said, in the low voice of a confidante.
"You're right. I might have to start looking elsewhere." He looked over his shoulder, towards the door. "Maybe I'll go back to the party..."
Christian laughed. "Did you see the people there? Seriously? They wouldn't look out of place on Jeremy Kyle."
"Well, I dunno. Compared with you, everyone looks like a Jeremy Kyle guest to me."
"That is the sweetest thing you've ever said to me. Really, I don't know how I'm holding back the tears. Choked up here," he said, wiping away non-existent tears.
"I know. I've got such a way with words."
Christian smiled, looking up at him. "I love you."
"Ugh, you're just saying that to guilt-trip me to stop me returning to that party and having my wicked way with all the beauties there."
"You fancying a game 'catch the STD'?"
Syed grinned. "It's good to share."
There was a loud crashing sound from the kitchen that was becoming a common occurrence. Christian gave it a cursory glance- he was too used to things falling apart to give it too much attention. "We've got to get out of here soon."
"That would involve getting a job. Which would involve leaving this cesspit on a regular basis. I don't know if I can manage that yet."
"Eh, let's wait. Maybe if we catch enough diseases from our fellow houseguests and from breathing the air, we'll become superheroes."
"I don't see any radioactive spiders.."
"If they're anywhere, they're in this building."
"We do need to move," Syed said, getting a second wind of the smell. He'd mostly gotten used to it- that mixture of dog excrement and stale urine, but sometimes it still hit him with enough force to make him gag.
"One day. One day soon. But, you, me, a roof over our head... that'll do me for now."
"Me too." He looked up at the ceiling, which was looking increasingly less stable by the day. He wrinkled his nose. "Maybe we could invest in some nose plugs, though."
February 2012
"See, there, even though, God knows, it was a dingy hole, we had the option of being able to... keep ourselves to ourselves away from here!
Christian regarded him sceptically. "Are you seriously saying STDville was more home than Walford?"
"Well... no. But you know what it had that Walford didn't? The absence of my mother. That's got to be a major selling point for you."
"You can tell you're an estate agent. I won't be forever, Sy. Just 'til Jane's all right."
"I'm not an esta... what do you mean 'just' 'til Jane's better? How long's that going to be?"
"Well." He hesitated. "I don't know that, do I?"
"What about your job?" Syed reminded him.
"I don't care! That's the point, Sy. The only thing I've cared about the past two years has been you."
Something like realisation dawned on Syed's face. "This is about what Jane said yesterday, isn't it?"
"No," Christian said, too quickly. "No, of course it isn't."
"Say it twice, that'll make it believable," Syed drawled. "Look, Jane can say whatever she likes, what's between you and me... it's between you and me. Who cares what other people think?"
"I don't!" Christian exclaimed.
"You obviously do. You've been a right misery since you came back from the hospital. I thought it was just because of your sister but with all this talk..."
"It's just... you've got this job that you care about a lot, that you're good at, that you don't mind getting out of bed for. You've got your faith. You're... you're not defined by this relationship."
"Really? That's what you're worried about? So this isn't about proving to Jane you won't get separation anxiety if I leave?"
"Syed, you're being ridiculous," Christian replied, unconvincingly.
"I'm really not. Christian, who cares what she thinks of our relationship? You've always been the one who said nobody else matters."
"I don't care!"
"Then why are you acting like this?" Syed asked. "Come on, you weren't worried in the slightest about 'defining yourself' 'til yesterday."
"I'm not acting like anything."
"You're pushing me away. Or trying to, at least."
"That's a good one," Christian retorted.
"…what?"
"Coming from you, the expert on pushing me away."
Syed's glance slid away from him for a moment. "That was a long time ago."
"Sy, I am not pushing you away."
"Then what are you doing, exactly? Trying to get me to appreciate your normal behaviour by acting like this? 'Cause, you know, I already do."
"I just want to stay here a bit longer, with my sister, who's ill. Is that a crime now?"
"No. Of course not. I... just don't want to stay here."
Christian had to admit to himself it hurt hearing those words. It had been a very long time since he and Syed had disagreed about something as fundamental as this. "Then you should go. Seriously, Sy, it's not going to kill you, or me, to spend a bit of time apart."
"But my mum…" he started.
"I don't care and I'm the one who has to put up with her, yeah? You need to go back to work."
"So do you," Syed pointed out, but Christian could tell he was just saying things to say them, rather than actually trying to convince Christian.
"I told you, I don't care about my job. Which is actually quite scary when you think about it."
"What do you mean?" Syed asked quietly.
"I… used to care about things, Sy. Like my job. Now, I don't."
"You care about your sister and Roxy your nephew and, God knows why, but your niece and brother-in-law…"
"People, yeah. People I sort of have to care about. I don't really get a choice in it. Everything I do get a choice in… it's just sort of faded to nothing, you know? Like, you, you've got your faith and your job, and what have I got, Syed? I've got you."
"You say that like it's a bad thing," he said, laughing nervously.
"It's not. Of course it's not. I love you. I really, really love you. It's just... I always chose you over everything."
"I did the same with you. In case you didn't notice."
"Of course I did. But… it was almost easy for me, to throw it all away. You spent so long struggling and fighting it and trying with your family, but I just… dropped it all without a second thought, Sy."
"Because your family would still keep in contact. You could visit. Choosing to leave, it wasn't like it was for me. I gave up my family for you, properly. That's the difference. That's why it was so hard for me. I thought… I thought I'd never see them again, or they'd never want to see me, anyway."
"But I didn't visit them, did I?" Christian asked. "That's the thing. They always had to make the effort..."
"You did that for me, though," Syed reminded him. "Just to spare my feelings."
"There were days I barely even thought about them, Sy," Christian admitted.
"That's natural, though. You can't think about your family every minute of every day."
"Could you say that about your family?"
"Voluntarily leaving your family because you're hurting is entirely different to break off all contact with them to run off with a bloke who's twelve years older than you and is called Christian," Syed told him. Christian had to laugh. "Of course I thought about them a lot. I felt so guilty, I couldn't help it. You had no reason to."
"I just think... I should be here for my family. Obviously you need to get home, real life and all that, but I'm just saying, as well, time apart isn't going to kill either of us."
"Look, just tell me here, are you saying we should take a break?"
"No, no, no. God, no. I'm just proposing… phone sex."
"Time apart sounds like a 'break'," he said quietly.
"It's not. So if you sleep with anyone else, don't try any of that 'we were on a break' crap with me."
"Right, that sounds like me," Syed replied.
"I know you've had your eye on Charlie Slater, you can't hide from me," Christian said. "Look, you've got a job to get back to. I've got a sister to look after. It'll be a few days, and then it's the weekend. I can come down, or you can come up."
"You should come down. I'm sick of the sight of this place already," he said, then a sad look crossed over his face. "Haven't you missed home? Even a bit?"
"That's the thing, Sy," he said. "It's not home to me, is it? Not properly."
Syed smiled, fondly. "And you say you don't care enough about things? You are attached to this hellhole for some godforsaken reason."
"You ever wonder why we move about so much, though?" Christian asked.
"I have. Not as much as you, evidently." He spread his hands out in front him. "Enlighten me."
"We're trying to find another Walford."
"That's probably true. I'm sure this place exerts some sort of gravitational pull. Nobody seems to be able to stay away permanently."
"It's obviously the great night life," Christian said. "The Vic's theme nights- the social event of the season."
"Or the ridiculously high death rate. Maybe Walford attracts a lot of suicidal people?"
Christian considered it. "That… would explain some of the behaviour."
Syed smiled gently. "I'm not ready to live here for any sort of long-term period, Christian. Maybe… in time. One day. When my relationship is better with my parents. But I… not yet."
"It's okay, Sy. We'll work something out. It's just 'til Jane's coping better."
"Yeah. " Syed looked at the light streaming in through the window. "Oh, crap, I need to go pray. I haven't even had a shower yet."
"Better get a shift on then," Christian told him.
"We'll talk about this later, yeah? I promised Mum I'd do one last shift and go over there for a meal and stuff."
"Yeah, I'm going to see Jane, see if she's feeling any better. See if I can do anything to help out, you know."
"Right, see you later."
"We'll sort something out," Syed called over his shoulder.
Christian smiled to himself. "We always do."
