The journey was long and worrying. Brendan had thrown the bag from the floor, that Ste had assumed was filled with drugs, into a bush on a side road before they reached the ferry port, and Ste hadn't questioned it, though he was desperate to. He realised there was too much emotion in Brendan at the moment.

Ste was surprised by the price of the ferry, but Brendan paid without hesitation, then he bought Ste a coffee on the ferry. They sat and stared at each other. Ste wondered what Brendan was thinking. Then he imagined if Leah or Lucas were in danger, and felt what he was sure was just a shadow of Brendan's emotions.

He took Brendan's hand in his automatically at the thought. Brendan looked surprised, but Ste was relieved that his usual instincts seemed to be gone. He didn't lash out, or even pull his hand away. He just sat looking at Ste.

"They're probably fine, you know," Ste said after a while, "He's probably still in Hollyoaks. We'll get there."

But that statement threw up more fears than he'd had previously. Why had Michael warned Ste? Just to scare Brendan? Or to get them out of Chester?

"Call Cheryl," Ste burst out, "I've got to call Amy."

He did so, but she was fine. She'd just picked up the kids from nursery and had been about to go home. He told her to go to Mike's instead, and she didn't question him as much as he thought she would. Instead she begged him to keep in contact.

He ended the call to see Brendan talking into his own phone. "Yes Cheryl, I'm going to be a little while. No, Cheryl, no… just stay with Lynsey, yeah? Or both go stay with Nancy or Jacquie or someone. Because… Cheryl… just do it yeah?" He hung up and put his head in his hands. "Jesus," he said. Ste smiled, enjoying that relationship Brendan had with Cheryl; love and annoyance, but love by far outweighing the latter. Maybe he could understand why Brendan didn't want to hurt that.

But thinking about that made him angry. Cheryl had tried to destroy him, and he couldn't even blame her because he had to blame Brendan; a man he still loved. Pathetically.

And now he was on a ferry on the way to the home of the man he hated most in the world. For Brendan.

He wouldn't have turned back for a million pounds.

Every muscle in Brendan's body was ready to pound on something. The pure fury that had done nothing but breed and grow since he first saw Michael was only fuelled by the desperate fear for his sons. He hoped Cheryl would do as he asked, but he wasn't certain, and Steven's words had done nothing but make him question his own decisions.

After calling Cheryl, he called Eileen with the same instructions, and as the boat came in to port, he got back in the car thinking about what he should do with Steven. He was not certain he could protect him and the boys, but at that moment he didn't want the younger man out of his sight for a second.

Steven got a call. Amy had arrived at her Dad's and they were all settling in for the night. Steven made her promise that no one would go out and that she'd keep her mobile close at all times. He wanted to call Cheryl again but couldn't while he was driving. He couldn't ask Steven to call her. He just had to hope.

He still knew his way around this part of town very well. The houses, the street names, all so familiar. A lot of the people were different, particularly the kids, but he found his father's place no problem.

He hadn't moved since Brendan was a kid, though only the two of them lived there now; Brendan's Dad and Cheryl's Ma. There was no sign of anyone who shouldn't be there, but cars still lined the streets; cars that he had no way of recognising. He glanced at Steven.

"You ready?" he asked.

Steven had gone pale. Brendan understood. "If he touches you, or even looks at ye funny, I will beat the crap out of him. OK?"

Steven nodded, but Brendan didn't think that reassurance had calmed him as much as it should have.

They got out of the car simultaneously and Brendan waited for Steven, before marching to the front door and banging on it.

Ste's heart was beating like a piston. On the other side of that door was the man he dreaded more than anyone in the world. The man he hated more than Terry. And here he was, standing voluntarily by that man's son while he knocked politely.

Well, not politely. More banging like he wanted to knock the door in, or smash it by smithereens maybe. He unconsciously shifted behind Brendan as he heard footsteps approaching from inside the house.

"Who is it?" shouted a worried woman's voice on the other side of the door, and Ste felt himself breath again.

"Maggie!" yelled Brendan, "It's me, let me in!"

"Brendan? What on Earth are you doing here?" exclaimed the woman as the sound of a security chain and a lock could be heard. Moments later a tall, brightly dressed woman opened the door wide, with a smile that could have been seen from space, but that faded the moment she saw Ste.

She clearly wasn't certain of anything at the moment.

"Is that… that's that boy isn't it? How dare you come here, you…"

But Brendan simply guided Ste inside and shut the door behind them. "Where are the boys, Maggie?" he interrupted.

"Upstairs," replied Mrs Brady, "but he is not welcome."

"Now is not the time, Maggie," Brendan interrupted again. "Declan, Padraig! Get down here, now!"

"What on Earth…" Mrs Brady tried.

"Now I said!" Brendan shouted again, then said, "they're my sons, Maggie, and Steven is here with me."

"I won't have him in my house!" screeched Maggie, in a voice not unlike Cheryl's when she was righteously shouting at Ste.

"He's not going anywhere," replied Brendan, his voice reaching that dangerously low level that Ste knew meant business. Mrs Brady looked surprised to hear it directed at her. Ste's doubt at his coming here doubled, "Where's Dad?"

"He's at the pub with some friends, thank God."

"What's with all the shouting?" asked a pleasant adolescent voice from the top of the stairs.

Brendan's face lit up at the sight of his son, "Declan! It's great to see you. Where's your brother?"

"On the x-box in the spare room. Is that Ste?"

"Alright Declan?" Ste greeted.

"Don't you talk to my grandson, you…"

"Maggie, just… just…." Brendan was nearing the edge of his temper. Ste put a hand on his arm automatically. It would not have restrained Brendan in any way, but it was enough, "just… hush," Brendan finished.

Declan looked between the three of them with confusion, but when his eyes landed on where Ste's hand was on Brendan's arm a small smirk appeared. "So, what are you guys doing here?" he asked.

Brendan forced a grin that Ste would never have described as comforting, "We're here to see you guys, of course," he said, "go fetch your brother, yeah?"

"Alright," said Declan, as happily as a teenager can, and strode back along the upstairs landing.

Ste asked the question. "Brendan, what are we going to do?"

Brendan must have been wondering the same, as he didn't answer straight away. He glanced at his stepmother, who was still glaring at Ste, then said, "We'll take them out somewhere. We don't want to scare them. Then we'll decide. And anyway, it's about time you met Paddy."

"Brendan, what are you playing at?" Mrs Brady was clearly not going to just accept this turn of events, "Do you know what that… that… thing did to your fa…."

"He did nothing to Dad, Maggie," Brendan said in a falsely calml voice, as the sound of two sets of footsteps immerging from an upstairs room could be heard, "Dad hurt him, so he went to the police, as he should have."

Mrs Brady looked ready to explode.

"Are you accusing…"

Brendan interrupted her, "Not in front of the boys."

All three adults turned their attention back to the stairs where Declan was leading an eight or nine year old boy down to them.

Ste had seen photos of Padraig. He'd looked like a cheekier version of his father, but Ste noticed other small differences now the boy was in front of him. A few of Eileen's freckles, for example.

"Dad!" he shouted from the top of the stairs, running down into Brendan's arms, nearly falling over as he did so.

"Hey, little man," laughed Brendan, "look at you, getting all big now, ain't ye?"

"And that's Ste, Paddy, the one I told you about." Declan smiled, but Ste panicked. What had Declan told Padraig? The same as Cheryl had told everyone in Hollyoaks? Declan noticed his look and elaborated, "Only good things, I promise." Ste breathed in relief. At least two members of Brendan's family didn't think he was a disgusting liar. Yet. Then he wondered what on Earth Declan could have been saying to Paddy anyway. What did Declan actually know?

"Er, hi," he said, uncertain how you greeted the pre-teen son of your abusive, homophobic, gay, ex-lover. Or were they suddenly not exes? What had he been thinking when he insisted on coming? Why on Earth did he think it would help?

Then Brendan took his hand and said "Padraig, this is Steven, my very good friend."

Very good friends? Who hold hands? What was he trying to teach them? Declan already had clear ideas in his head; Ste could tell from the look on his face, and was overwhelmingly pleased that the boy showed excitement, not disgust.

Ste smiled at both boys and said, "Alright?"

Paddy smiled shyly, "Alright?" he replied.

"So, what are you planning on doing then Brendan?" demanded Mrs Brady, tone of voice and body language reminding them all that she was not happy with this turn of events.

Everyone looked at Brendan, including Ste, even though he was pretty sure the plan had only really taken them up to finding the boys. Brendan did not look ready to answer. But answer he did.

"Have you eaten?" he asked.

"Not yet, we were waiting for Granddad," replied Declan, and Ste hoped no one noticed his flinch.

"Well, where's a good place to eat around here? Just a chance for you two to get to know Steven, yeah? Just the four of us." Ste could barely believe his ears.

"And what am I supposed to tell your Dad when he comes home, eh?" Mrs Brady grumbled.

"How about the truth?" suggested Brendan, and gripped Ste's hand firmly. "Right, it's your choice, boys, and it's all on me."