A/N: Sorry this is another short one but I promise the next will be longer. Also, don't kill me. This is the fallout so expect things you might not want!

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Eileen

There were several things Eileen could have done – should have done – after seeing a male nurse kiss her husband full on the mouth. There were several things she wanted to do. She wanted to scream or run or cry or smack the boy hard across the face. Because with the kiss came the startling revelations and conclusions that came with it. He wasn't just any nurse either, he was a friend of Amy's – a friend of Dorothy's too alright. He was no longer the two-dimensional gay tart in Amy's tales of adultery, he was the twisted, sneaky home-wrecking predatory bastard who'd trapped her husband into his sordid little games. Brendan was the married man. Years this had gone on. Years.

What Eileen wanted to do was sob her way home, tear every last thing out of the house that belonged to her lying, cheating scumbag poof of a husband. That would mean the house too. She'd have to pack up her things – what was hers? – and stay with her mam. Kids too. They'd be psychologically damaged, bullied at school, turn to drugs probably – the lot. She'd never be able to look her friends and family in the face again – she'd be laughed at. She'd be the woman who turned her husband gay. And some smart arse was bound to say they knew all along, weren't they? Hadn't she seen it? They'd bring up sex and – god why hadn't she realised – the lack of drive, the fact he wanted anal? She felt so stupid. Mortified. Used. Pathetic.

Then she wanted to find him. The one who coerced him. The one who'd do all those grimy things with him. She wanted him to feel like she felt. She wanted him to look her in the eye and admit to destroying her family, for damaging the man she loved.

What Eileen did was different. Difficult. Restrained. He was still her husband, her broken, injured husband. She had obligations, vows, duties even if he'd pissed all over his. She had her family to think of. Herself. She was a mother first, a wife second. She wasn't going to tear their family apart. No, if he wanted to be gay with his little queer boyfriend, then he could bear the brunt of the fallout, the suffering – not her.

So Eileen Brady sat by the hospital bed, listening to the machines' beeping, hands fixed firmly to her side. When nurses and doctors saw her cry they believed it to be because of her husband's injuries and they offered her words of comfort and tea in plastic cups.

"He'll be okay," they said, "It looks like he'll make a full recovery."

He'll still be gay, Eileen thought. And no matter how much she wanted it to be otherwise, how much she prayed to God for a fix, he'd still be gay when he work up.

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Paddy

He'd been a little reluctant to visit the hospital for the second day running. He had considered taking his school books or at least The Catcher in the Rye, which he was half-way through, but Eileen said it wasn't very sociable of him to bury his head in a book.

"Ma he isn't even awake yet," Paddy said, rolling his eyes as he slunk out of the house. "How's he gonna know I'm reading a book?"

"I'll know," Eileen said, buckling Aoife in on the backseats. "And Declan's coming later when he finishes lessons."

"Lectures, ma. They're called lectures."

She glared at him, slamming the car door shut. "Will you stop correcting me, Padraig? It's all you seem to do lately!"

Paddy flipped his dark hair from his face and sat beside her on the passenger seat.

"I was only saying," he said, mumbling into his sleeves as he rested his elbow on the window ledge.

Eileen shuddered beside him with a tearful sigh. "And don't you think I've got bigger things to worry about?"

Paddy was forced into silence. He didn't really believe the notion that unconscious patients could actually hear what their visitors were saying. Brendan's finger had begun twitching and the doctors said the swelling on his brain was shrinking rapidly. All good signs. They said it would be days, maximum, until he'd wake up. Then everything would go back to normal.

Well, as normal as living in the Brady house could be. He was pretty sure his mum and dad had stopped loving each other a long time ago.

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Declan

"Shit…fuck. That's a real fucked up situation."

"Yeah, you could say." Declan threw the last of his clothes into an overnight bag. He didn't normally reveal his whole family story to strangers, but this was different. Meina, the girl hanging around the doorway of his room was the girl he was hoping to date. If she was willing to take him on, he wasn't about to keep his father's secrets from her.

"So what are you going to do?"

He slumped onto the bed. "I can't do it to her, can I? I can't go to the hospital and sit and tell her Da's gay. Not when I don't even know what state he's gonna be in." He ran his hands across of his face and it was selfish to say it, to feel it but he did anyway. "In a way I sorta hoped this might make him…"

"What – not gay?"

"No, not that. Just…I dunno, make him realise how important life is, I guess. You know?"

Meina chewed on her lip and joined him on the bed. She smelt of perfume, her black hair brushing up against his shoulder. She placed her hand on his knee. "Have you thought about what if he wakes up and realises he wants to be with that guy?"

Declan's head dropped forward. He hadn't really thought of that outcome. "Then at least Ma's gonna get the truth."

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Brendan

His body ached like he'd been pulled and stretched in medieval fashion, crushed in a car compactor. He felt a rough material under all his limbs, a low dull ache at the centre of his spine. The sounds he heard were like being underwater, just out of reach and swirling. He couldn't focus on them, they were making him feel nauseous and foggy so he retreated back, deep into the recesses of memory. He found comfort there, happiness, pleasure.

Steven's birthday. He'd upgraded their rendezvous. Four stars, a suite. Room service. Breakfast in bed. Crumbs in uncomfortable places, his orange flavoured mouth. A towel wrapped around his waist, water droplets shaken like a dog from his hair. The towel coming loose as he clambered over the bed and perched himself across Brendan's lap. Brendan untied it – what sane man wouldn't. He was hard, and pink from the shower. The cheekiest grin slapped onto his face. Hiya he said like butter wouldn't melt, and wrapped his arms around Brendan's shoulders, cock rubbing up against his belly, legs spread. Wish we could stay here f'ever, don't you? He rubbed his nose against Brendan's and licked the tips of his moustache. Their lips touched twice, maybe three times, not kissing just enjoying that subtle connection. You want me to turn round? His tongue curled up in his mouth. It was tongue he wanted, tongue everywhere. In a minute. Brendan said after a growl, running his nails through Ste's scalp and then down his spine. Every stretch of skin made him feel so alive. Ste pressed his hips down and circled, bringing their cocks together. He laughed. Low and dirty. And sighed. Nice innit? Brendan shook his head in derision. That ain't 'nice'. Nice is picnics and daisy chains. You don't want nice. Ste slipped his hand between them, rubbing his fingertips over Brendan's shaft. Oh yeah. Then what do I want, eh? Brendan pressed his finger between Ste's arse cheeks and watched his mouth pop open. Me.

Brendan tried curling back into it, the sensations. What was it? Memory or fantasy? He wanted more of it. Not just the physical, there was a glow filling his head. A warmth. A longing.

But a blinding consciousness was taking over, flooding his system. Noises grew louder, voices. Words started making sense. He could feel where he was now fully. He started feeling pains and aches. He was flat on his back and the thrum of noise around him was growing louder. He could feel thoughts rising to the surface, feeling like he wanted to answer their questions and join in. He wanted a drink of water. And more than that, he wanted something else.

Movement returned and from a curl of a fist, he was gradually able to open his eyelids.

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Ste

"You know your friend is awake. He's been moved to HDU," said Pam as she passed Ste in the canteen, carrying her dinner tray.

"Awake?" Ste said, trying to reign in the feelings of relief he was struck with.

Pam nodded. "A few hours ago."

He still had a few minutes left of his break, so he left his half-eaten lunch and rushed to the high dependency unit, feeling guilt, relief and an ache at every step. With Eileen around he hadn't dared allow himself anywhere near the ward before and had had to rely on second hand gossip to keep up to date with his progress. He was barely sleeping from worry. Not to mention Adam was piling on the pressure at home over the move and he hadn't given him an answer yet. When he'd first seen the state of Brendan he'd known immediately that he wanted to be with him and not Adam but as reality set it, the thought of that seemed further from reach than ever.

As he turned the corridor into the special care units he could see Brendan and his family through the large window. They were all gathered around the bed, his wife, three kids. He looked drained, gaunt, but managing to lift a smile at his family's presence. Ste noticed immediately Brendan's fingers locked tightly around his wife's, all of them chatting together. The perfect family. He could barely breathe watching them. He'd never felt so desperately alone.

Ste looked onto the scene, a knot in his throat, a hot mist in his eyes. It'd been a long day, a long week. He pressed a hand up and over his forehead as if he could rub away those futile thoughts. He needed to, if he was ever going to survive this. Miracles could happen, sure, on the telly. Brendan could've banged his head and woken up straight. Stranger things had happened. But the chances of him deciding to lead an out and open life, to leave behind the 2.4 family? Next to zero.

Being with Brendan had brought him elation, ecstasy and a world of confusion and pain. Rarely had it brought him the things future needed: stability, loyalty, security. Adam, he…he wasn't Brendan but he was a good man. Kind. Nice. After all, they were married. They came in a pair. He wasn't a young, hedonistic, selfish guy anymore. He'd made too many bad choices for too long. What he loved and lusted after in Brendan wasn't what he needed. And looking at him now, he wasn't what Brendan needed either. Brendan probably hadn't even given him a second thought.