I admit, I fell into a few days of writers block. :( I tried, I really did, then someone told me not to force it, so I relaxed and it all flowed. So I apologize for how long it has taken to upload, and I thank you all for your comments and emails and tweets! I have not been able to answer them this time round due to working so hard to break through the writers block! But I read and loved every one. It is nearly time to finish up this tale, but not quite yet. ;) Hope you enjoy!

Steven's gleeful chuckling had stopped when the severity of his injuries was made known in a torturous wave of pain that burned in his shoulder and spine. He was very aware of how fast he was breathing and as he lay there staring at the ceiling, he listened to the strange voices that echoed in the stairwell. His heart beat so loudly in his ears that he only caught snatches of what the two policemen were saying as they assessed the situation.

"...Control, this is Sierra nine..."

"...this one's dead..."

"...get help..."

He felt the disturbance of air as one of the officers passed him, ran up the stairs and disappeared back through the doors just as the face of the other appeared before him, concern showing on his friendly features as he positioned himself awkwardly on the stairs to help Steven.

"What's your name mate?" He asked as he pulled a pair of blue nitrile gloves from his vest pocket and proceeded to put them on.

"St...Steven..."

"Steven, I'm Michael, we're going to get you some help, yeah?"

Steven nodded weakly as Michael placed his hand on his right shoulder and pressed down firmly on the bullet wound in an attempt to stop the flow of blood. Steven gritted his teeth as a fresh wave of agony radiated from under the pressure of Michael's hand and he moaned until his breath ran out and ended with a strange mirthless chuckle which made Michael look at him curiously.

"Not sure I could laugh with a hole torn in my shoulder mate, you need to lay easy 'til we get you seen to." He said as he repositioned his hand in a further attempt to stop the flow.

His back muscles went into spasm and Steven cried out, wishing that he could get off the damned stairs that were digging into his spine which felt as if it was broken in pieces. Michael continued to press against the wound in his shoulder, the blood seeping through his fingers as he tried to stanch the flow, but failing as he had nothing to cover the wound with except his gloved hands.

"I were...too lucky, me...I think." Steven's words were slurred and the policeman shook his head in confusion but smiled indulgently as he held his hand fast to the wound in Steven's shoulder.

"If you were lucky, you would have dodged the bullet." Michael smiled down on him.

"Mibbe, yeah. Still lucky though like...I landed on Walker and...didn't break my neck." Steven said as he tried to straighten his back, wincing as it spasmed again..

"Are you saying you fell? From up there?" Michael asked, pointing his head towards the landing above.

"Yeah, but Walker...broke my fall." He smiled woozily and Michael looked from him towards Walker's cooling body with a frown on his face.

"Simon Walker?" He asked to which Steven nodded.

"Jesus Christ." Michael cursed, shaking his head slowly. "We've been after him for months."

"Yeah I know." Steven nodded again, his eyelids drooping down as a heavy fatigue washed over him.

Michael was speaking to him but Steven couldn't make out the words as a sleepy haze had settled on his mind and he had to concentrate to even keep his eyes opened. His body shivered and his teeth chattered together as a coldness began to spread through his trembling frame. Shock was setting in; his breathing increased further until he was panting and he could feel his heart fluttering quickly in his chest. He felt his eyes roll in his head and Michael must have seen it as the big policeman turned Steven's face towards him and spoke with a nervous edge to his voice.

"Come on Steven, stay with me lad."

Steven smiled at him, a smile of thanks and genuine appreciation, but he no longer had the strength nor the mind to keep going. He knew that his body had gone way passed its limits some hours ago and as he lay there looking up into Michael's face, he suddenly had the urge to spill words that needed to be heard in case he didn't come back from this.

"Tell them...tell my kids...I love them...tell Brendan...it were for him...tell Bren...Bren..."

"Steven come on, stay with me mate, you are nearly there eh? Nearly there mate, come on!"

Above them the doors burst open and Michael's colleague hurried down the stairs followed by a small medical team, but things had already began to fade. Steven could no longer keep his eyes open as his surroundings turned black and everything grew dim. Soon all that Steven could focus on was Michael's continuing litany of encouragement, but even the sound of his voice faded, becoming indecipherable ghostly whispers in Steven's mind. As he gently fell into unconsciousness, it was with a single thought; It had been worth it.

o0o0o0o0o0o

It had been well over ten hours since he had fallen asleep to the sound of Steven's voice and Brendan woke more refreshed and relaxed as he had ever had done in years. He lay there contentedly with his eyes closed, enjoying the feeling of peace as it had eluded him for so long he felt he would never experience it again. The covers felt restrictive and heavy and he stirred feebly beneath them while noting how sore and stiff his body felt. Yawning, he opened his eyes and looked around, half expecting to see Steven sleeping in the chair next to his bed. He was disappointed to find that he wasn't and his brows knitted together in confusion when he saw Cheryl in that chair, with a tear streaked face and red, watery eyes. He watched her quietly for a moment as she dabbed at her eyes, constantly looking from her hands to across the ward towards some unknown thing that kept grabbing her attention. As she turned her head back to her hands, she noticed him looking at her and her eyes widened as fresh tears filled them. He had a terrible sinking feeling as he watched her try to compose herself and his new found peace was quickly shattered as concern entered his mind.

"Hey love." She said shakily, her eyes flickering to the other side of the ward and back.

"Hey. What's wrong?" he croaked.

She stared at her hands which fiddled with a crumpled paper handkerchief, tearing it and rolling it in her fingers as she continued to cry. Brendan didn't like this, something was wrong and he was sure that it had nothing to do with his own predicament. He tried to raise himself to look across the ward to see what interested her so much but pain in his broken ribs saw him lay back down with a groan.

Cheryl reached for his hand and held it very tight, so tight that Brendan knew that whatever was wrong, it was something very serious. Cheryl was renowned for her dramatics and overreactions, but he could always tell when something significantly bad or serious had happened as she changed from the light hearted drama queen he loved so much into a quiet, pensive girl with a sadness on her face that he hated to see.

"Bren, Something's happened." She played with his fingers as she sniffed and blinked back tears that never seemed to stop. But she couldn't speak any further as she choked on a sob and suddenly his heart was racing and he felt sick.

"Chez, what? What is it?" She looked up and he knew by the pity in her eyes that it had something to do with Steven. He should have known that something was wrong when Steven had not been the one sitting beside his bed. He pulled his hand out of hers and placed it on the bed rail, ignoring the fresh pain in his ribs and head, attempting to pull himself up to stare across the ward.

"No, Bren, wait!" She tried to gently pull him back down but he cursed and fought against her until his body decided he had spent too much energy and he collapsed back into the bed, none the wiser.

"What's happened Chez, tell me." He panted, feeling anger at his weakness and anxious at what it might be that she had to tell him.

"Steven...he was going back to his own ward fer a sleep. I don't know how but...Walker got hold of him..."

His mind clamped down at the name and he heard little else of what Cheryl said as an agonizing concern and anger erupted inside him and he shook his head vigorously in negation to the claim that Walker had survived.

"Walker? Walker's dead Chez, I killed him me'self."

"Yeh did love, I know yeh did, he just...took a while ter die...and coz of that..."

"Where is Steven?"

"You need to..."

"Where is Steven Chez, tell me." His eyes watched every single emotion displayed on her face, searching for hope while hating the fact that all he saw was grief.

"They brought him here an hour ago." She sniffed as Brendan turned his head away and moaned piteously. "They say that he and...Walker had a fight...they fell from the landing at the top of a stairwell down the corridor and...Steven was...he was just about to come back when...he...he..."

Brendan turned and grabbed her hand and held it as tightly as she had. "He what Chez, what? He isn't...god please no..."

"No no no love, he isn't dead...but he's very ill. Walker pulled a gun on him...he was shot..."

He felt an explosion of emotions too big to contain that forced a long grief filled cry from his throat. He shook his head in denial as anger and heartache thrust themselves to the front of his mind and although Cheryl did her best to placate him, he pushed her away as he felt his mind gravitating towards the hellish darkness that he had thought he had escaped from and a roar burst from his mouth.

"Steven!" He pushed weakly against the mattress, trying to sit up, his legs kicking out while the right side of his body reacted sluggishly to his ardent commands making him twist and turn in the bed.

Long moments passed in a blur and he pulled together as much strength as he possibly could find and fought firstly Cheryl and then the two nurses who came running at the sound of his cries. He tried to get out of the bed, pulling and disconnecting wires and tubes from his body, setting off machine alarms and spilling blood from his body all over the white sheets and clothes of those around him. He cold feel nothing but panic verging on hysteria and his arms pushed and punched out until something in his side moved and took his breath away as the chest drain was dislodged, then he was being held back down on the bed and injected with something that quickly made his body relax and his mind become sluggish.

He lay there in a state of anxious confusion, his thoughts held in a strange fog, his head still rocking back and forth as his eyes rolled in his head. He could feel things being forced into his arms but it was nothing really, just a faint sensation that passed quickly. The alarm of the machines screamed around him, much louder and more shrill than they had been and although they were silenced a few moments later, he still heard their sound echoing through his mind. His breathing laboured but he was so past caring as the fog increased until he felt virtually nothing and his breathing slowed.

Cheryl was crying and sobbing and he couldn't even think of why though it broke his heart to hear her so sad. But why was she crying? He wondered until his mind conjured up an image of a young happy face with beautiful large blue eyes, smooth skin and soft luscious lips and his body shook as his mouth formed the mans name and whispered it out into the air on a heavy breath full of regret and grief. He felt Cheryl take his hand as he cried softly while saying Steven's name again and she tried to comfort him with words that held little meaning for his muddled mind. Her soft hands stroked his hand gently and he drifted off to a place where this fresh pain and guilt were lifted from him and he fell into a peaceful sleep under the heavy control of a drug induced sleep.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o

"...he was very insistent that Mr Brady be told that it was for him. Not sure what he meant by that, but it seemed important to him for Mr Brady to know..."

"...and thank you for caring for him, 'am sure it helped ter keep him with us..."

"...I hope he pulls through."

The conversation didn't mean a great deal to Brendan as he fought to break through the fog that clouded his drugged mind. The words were lost on him and if truth be told, he had little memory of what had transpired earlier other than vague feeling that something bad had happened. He struggled to pull himself free from the heavy restraint of the sedation he had been given earlier, feeling like his head was filled with cotton wool which clogged his mind and impeded his ability to think. It wasn't until Cheryl leaned over the bed and kissed his forehead that he realized his eyes were open and staring at the white ceiling above his bed. She looked so tired and sad that all he wanted to do was take her in his arms and hold her like he used to when they were younger; when he was her big brother the hero who would comfort her when she was sad or upset.

"Bren love, I'll be back in a few minutes. Just gonna pop out and grab a coffee and check on Ste."

Just the mention of Steven's name brought everything back to him and his stomach churned violently as he remembered with clarity the fact that Steven lay injured by the hands of Walker. It was like waking from a dream in which a deceased loved one had been alive, then waking to find it was a lie and his guts twisted within him as the misery descended upon him once more.

The curtains had been drawn around his bed, like a protective shield against what lay beyond; hiding the fact that Steven lay on deaths door across the ward. A muscle twitched in his jaw as he ground his teeth together, feeling the old familiar feelings of rage, frustration and hatred flow through him, giving him strength and bolstering his will to get out of the bed. Using his left hand, he pulled himself with great effort into a sitting position, grunting but trying to ignore his body's outcry at being moved in such a way. His face was pulled into a grimace which displayed both pain and determination weaved into an angry scowl.

He hauled himself to the bottom of the bed where the bed rails left a small gap for him to wriggle through and he sat there a moment, legs dangling over the edge, breathing deep controlled breaths until his mind cleared more and he felt ready to move again. He slowly pushed himself from the bed until his feet hit the cold floor and he stopped still, feeling the difference in sensation between both sides of his body. It never occurred to him that he might not make it, such was his resolve to reach Steven, and so he sighed and pushed off the bed to stand up shakily.

He wobbled slightly as he tried to compensate for the lack of strength in one side, standing there lopsided and wondering if he would ever stand straight again, but he was standing unaided, and that in itself was an accomplishment he didn't think he would ever achieve. Feeling tugging at various parts of his body, he remembered the lines and cables that were attached to the machines monitoring him that would alarm as soon as he disconnected them, but no matter what, he would not stop until he had seen Steven. Using the bed rail for support, he lumbered over to the machines and looked them over carefully, finding their power buttons and switching them off. Then he pulled out the tubing connected to the line in his arm and pressed hard on the hole in his skin.

As soon as he took an unaided step forward he stumbled, the lack of strength in the right side making his center of gravity off kilter. It took him a few moments to compensate and restart his walk as he peeled off the cables from the monitors and let them fall wherever. He limped awkwardly towards the curtains, every tiny step a momentous drain on his reserves that brought bursts of pain from all over his body. It was the tug in his side that halted his little escapade and he just stood there confused, leaning to the side as his casted arm dangled heavily beside him, unsure of what to do. His right leg began to tremble and threatened to give way beneath him and he cursed at his own stupidity as he could neither go forward nor retreat back to bed, merely stand there shaking waiting on his legs to give.

"Shit." He cursed aloud and tried to turn to reach for the bed rail.

"Bren?" Cheryl's voice filtered though the curtains much to Brendan's chagrin, he knew that she would give him a bollocking for attempting this stunt.

The curtains were pulled back to reveal Cheryl standing with a fresh coffee in hand and one eyebrow raised questioningly as she saw the tubes and cables laying all over the floor and Brendan, guiltily standing there looking as if he was about to collapse.

"I just want...ter see Steven..." He said, his eyes not quite able to meet hers.

"And yeh thought it would be a good idea ter try that yerself? Eh?"

It was then that his strength evaporated as his legs shook violently beneath him and just as he was about to collapse onto to the floor, Cheryl's arms encircled him and held him up as she backed him into the chair she had sat vigilantly in overnight. He sank into it with a moan of both relief and frustration as Cheryl hunkered beside him.

"What were yeh trying ter do love?! Yeh know yeh shouldn't be out of bed!"

He shook his head as he felt a terrible anger surge through him and he turned his head so that she didn't see it.

"I need...to see Steven, Chez." he said through gritted teeth.

She looked at him oddly, as if sensing this was more than just concern for Steven's wellbeing that weighed on his mind, which of course was true. She sighed as she got to her feet and patted his hand.

"Alright love, gimme a sec."

As she disappeared through the curtains, they opened a little, giving Brendan a narrow view of the ward beyond. He could see people bustling around, heard the noise of alarming machines and hurrying feet. He tried to see where Steven might be but the bay in which he thought he was had the curtains pulled over and he saw nothing, making him shake his head in quiet desperation as Cheryl returned with a nurse.

The nurse had started on a stern tirade regarding what he had tried to do but when he raised his head and looked at her, she saw the barely controlled emotions displayed on his face and she relented with a sigh. Looking at him sadly, she was obviously torn between keeping him medically safe and wanting to help him, but against her better judgement she nodded her head in acquiescence.

"Five minutes Mr Brady, then I want you back in bed. Agreed?" She said.

He nodded gratefully and thanked her, allowing them both to transfer him into the wheelchair as he had spent almost all of his strength on those few precious steps he had taken. When the nurse had finished sorting tubing and different things to allow his movement in the chair, Cheryl pushed him out passed the curtains.

As they moved across the ward, Brendan felt nervous fear at what he was going to see and how he might react, and when Cheryl leaned forward and pulled the curtains back, the air was sucked from his lungs at the sight that lay before him.

"Jesus..." Was all he said as Cheryl maneuvered his chair to rest beside Steven's bed.

He lay motionless with his eyes closed and lips slightly parted, the bottom one swollen and cut. His face was less swollen than it had been, but the black and blue bruises accentuated his more than pallid complexion. He looked drained, as if the bag of blood which hung from the drip stand was working in reverse and sucking the blood from him.

His wrists had been redressed and the bullet wound to his right shoulder was padded and bound. Brendan reached forward and took Steven's hand in his while continuing to stare at his abused face. He was very aware of Cheryl watching him as she sat down in the chair opposite, but he ignored her as he dropped his eyes to look at the fingers he toyed with. Steven's nails were caked in blood, which stabbed another cruel knife through Brendan's heart and he sighed sadly as he rubbed a finger over Steven's bruised knuckles. Outside, the clouds passed quickly across the sky to reveal the sun which shone through the window behind the bed, throwing a warm illumination over Steven who lay there so frail and ill that Brendan's anger and frustration disappeared, only to be replaced by shame and guilt.

"They say he was lucky it happened in the hospital as the bullet nicked an artery." Cheryl said as she raised her coffee to her mouth. "That policeman more than likely saved his life."

Brendan nodded and his eyes flickered to the heavily bandaged shoulder, the sight of which merely compounded his guilt. For all the ward was busy and relatively noisy, Brendan heard little of what went on around him, as if Steven's bay was in its own little bubble which held out the rest of the world. So real was the feeling of isolation that Brendan jumped a little when he heard Cheryl's voice next to him as she kissed his head.

"I 'ave a call to make, I'll be back in a minute." She said, pulling the curtain tighter closed as she left.

He knew that she had left in order to give him time alone with Steven, she always seemed to instinctively know what he needed and appreciated the fact that she cared enough for him to understand. He sat there and indulged himself in the feelings of self loathing and self depreciation that had descended on his mind, knowing that everything that had happened in the last forty eight hours had been because of him. Even though he knew that he had not killed Cameron Walker, it was because of his past dodgy dealings that so many wanted to harm him and continued to harm those that he loved. He often wondered what would happen if he suddenly disappeared off the face of the Earth; would they all be safer without him? Or would it simply mean they would be tortured more thoroughly in order to bring him back? He felt overpowering disgrace that he had been the one who brought the greatest harm to his loved ones. He shook his head and stared back at those fingers which he played with, hit by a flood of memories of them running through his hair, softly touching his lips and digging wildly into his back in a moment of joyous intimacy. He folded them into his hand and stared at Steven's face, remembering all the times that face had been the only thing in his entire world worth living for. He was suddenly lost in his memories as his eyes traced the details of Steven's features, knowing every quirk and blemish, and wishing those eyes would open to look upon him with that doting love that he had become so accustomed to.

He remembered the coy smiles, the darting intelligent eyes, the flashing of his perfect teeth. He remembered the tears that fell from those eyes and that no matter the argument, they always held a softness towards Brendan that made him weak and protective of this young man. In his minds eye he remembered one of their most intimate encounters, seeing that face contorted in a myriad of expressions as his body twisted in the carnal dance just as his blue blue eyes opened wide and glistened in a moment of complete ecstasy as Brendan moved above him, within him. The memory left Brendan wondering if he could ever leave that beautiful connection behind.

Even as he considered it, he knew that should he ever leave, it would kill him more definitively than any person who meant him harm ever could. His world would be a much darker place without Steven, his life forever incomplete and he doubted he could survive it. But even as he thought he couldn't leave, he realised that he should and the feeling of crushing loss fell upon him so heavily that he lowered his head and rested it on Steven's hand.

"I'm so sorry Steven. This is all my fault." He whispered as he felt his remaining strength wane. "I wish...I wish we could've met earlier, when I was younger, as my life would have turned out different if yeh'd been part of it and I would never have caused you any pain."

He squeezed Steven's hand to his lips and closed his eyes with a feeling of finality, his decision made.

"You'll never be hurt coz of me again."

He rested Steven's hand back onto the bed and went to pull away, knowing that it would be the last time he touched the man he loved so much. He had decided that once he was well enough, he would slip away, quietly, unnoticed and never blight Steven's life again. He was about to call on some help to go back to his own bed when a breathless whispery voice stopped his words from being spoken.

"Don't you dare leave Brendan Brady." He turned back to see Steven's half opened, tired eyes staring at him. "Get any ideas of disappearing out that head of yours, or I'll bloody well kill you myself, right?" The fact that Steven knew exactly what he was thinking put him to shame and he lowered his head, mortified.

"I didn't take this bullet for you to run away Bren. I took it so we could be safe, so we could be together."

"What do yeh mean, take this bullet?" Brendan stared at him, completely aghast at the thought that Steven might have deliberately put himself at risk.

"He was coming for you. What else was I meant to do? I were at door, he opened it, I led him away."

He made it sound so simple, but Brendan's mind went into a spin with the information that Steven had willingly went with Walker in order to save his sorry ass. Never in his entire life had anyone been willing to sacrifice anything for Brendan and the thought of it didn't fully compute with him. The notion that anyone would be willing to sacrifice themselves for him was completely abhorrent; he was not worthy of such devotion, his life did not warrant saving by one such as Steven. He found himself mute in the face of Steven's admission, unable to formulate a reply or a thankful statement, so sat there, strangely terrified and confused.

"You've protected me, Cheryl, anyone you thought needed it. It were time someone protected you." Steven whispered, his voice gaining a little strength with every word. "It's like you say, family is everything. Like, you're my family Bren, and I'll protect my family as much as you."

He wasn't sure what to say or do, this wasn't exactly a situation he had ever been in before. No one had ever really cared for him except Cheryl, and even they had been estranged at times. But here was someone who had been willing to lay their life down for him, for him! Yet he still did not understand why. He shifted painfully in the wheelchair, and reached out a trembling hand to take Steven's hand once more.

"I don't deserve yeh Steven." He smiled even as the tears filled in his eyes. "I don't deserve anything like this. It's time we faced the fact that I'm good fer no one."

Steven's hand curled around his, squeezing it tight while pulling it to rest on his chest.

"You only think that cause that's all you've ever been told, right? But I'm telling you the truth, you are proper worth it, you always have been." Steven held his hand on his chest and Brendan could feel his heart beating strongly beneath his fingers. "You think I'm worth it, it works both ways. No matter what, there's nothing we can't face together, nothing we can't beat."

Brendan looked up to see Steven smiling fondly at him, his baby blue eyes shining with a love he felt he did not deserve.

"I can't live without you Brendan Brady. When you're not with me, you're all I think about. When you disappear on me, right? I can't sleep for worrying. When you're with me, holding me, everything is as it should be and I can never be happier. You think I wont fight to keep hold of that? Of you?"

For the first time in his entire life, Brendan Brady felt truly wanted, needed and loved for what he was. He felt worth something and more human that he had ever been. He was more than just Seamus Brady's hated son, more than just another bad boy hated by the community. He finally saw himself through Steven's eyes and it felt as if he had just been reborn and the magnitude of it all stunned him.

"I don't deserve yeh Steven Hay." he said again, but this time it was without the self pity, it was a simple fact, stated in truth. "But yer still a soppy git."

"Yeah, but I'm your soppy git, in't ah?"

"Yeh sure are." He chuckled and looked to see Steven smiling down on him with that beaming smile that always made his heart beat faster.

"And you, are my hairy soulmate." Steven said, squeezing his hand tighter.

Brendan laughed despite the fact that it hurt to do so and removed his hand from Steven's grip. Holding onto the bed rail he pulled himself slowly into a standing position and leaned over until his face was right next to Steven's.

"Hairy soulmate?" He whispered to which Steven nodded. "Give yer hairy soulmate a damned kiss then."

Steven grinned as Brendan leaned his head forward and pressed his lips against that smiling mouth. They stared into each others eyes, drinking each other in while knowing that this was a kiss that neither of them thought they would ever share again, needing to see each other in order to believe it. Their mouths worked a long, slow, loving kiss that each wanted to go on forever. Steven raised his hand to place it against Brendan's face, as if wanting to feel that it was indeed Brendan and not a dream. At the same time, Brendan placed his hand behind Steven's head, holding him firmly, never wanting to let him go. Closing their eyes, they fell into a moment of pure connection so profound that it felt as if they were the only living things in the entire universe. It felt as if their hearts were beating as one and that their love was the only thing keeping the world spinning. It was not a kiss that aroused either of them, but it ignited a passion for each other deep within their hearts that burned so fiercely that they knew they would never be complete without each other, and that they could never be apart.

The kiss lingered on in Brendan's mind long after he had collapsed exhausted back into the wheelchair and long after he had been helped back into bed. It lingered as his tired eyes closed shortly after and helped him to fall contentedly into a deep sleep, knowing that no matter what, Steven would always be there for him, and that he would always be there for Steven.

TBC...

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