Chapter 37

For a moment Brendan could only stare at the place, which was now filled with smoke and fire. It felt like everything was played in slow motion. His brain replayed the moment the van exploded over and over in his head. Like it wasn't able to process what was happening. Then disbelieve and fear started to set in his chest. This couldn't be happening. They couldn't just... Steven...

"No. NO! Steven!" his voice broke the long lasting silence which had settled down after the explosion.

He fought against his captors. An overpowering panic came over him. He couldn't lose Steven, not now. He needed him. "Steven!"

No, this couldn't be happening! He didn't just...

He needed to get to him! "Steven!"

"No! Get away from me!" His voice broke: "Get away from me!" he fought against the arms which were holding him. He didn't know how he got free, but suddenly he was.

He started to run as fast as he could. His whole body started to protest, but he just kept going. He needed to get to Steven, he needed to know if he was alive. Even if there was a small change he had survived this…

But he heard running footsteps behind him

"No. I need to see him. Steven!"

But it was no use. He wasn't fast enough. Hands grabbed his shoulders and his wrists.

"Steven!" He was pushed against the ground and his hands were held against his back.

He fought against the arms which were holding him down: "Get off of me! Steven!"

He struggled as hard as he could: "No. Let go! Steven!" But he felt his strength fade away. A knee was resting on his shoulder blade, holding him down.

Tears started to appear in his eyes. "No. Steven. I can't-". His voice broke and he was roughly lifted off the ground.

"You're going with us mate. There's nothing you can do for him, he is dead."

Brendan shook his head. No, No! He couldn't believe it. He looked at the place the van had exploded, tears falling from his eyes. There was barely anything left of the vehicle, nothing but debris. The truth grabbed Brendan by the throat. There was no way Steven could have survived this. No way.

He was roughly pulled away from the place. He didn't even protest or struggle. He couldn't find the use. The only thing that had kept him going was gone.

He was put down in the back of a car and a needle was pressed through the skin of his upper arm. Only one thought stayed with him as the world turned black.

Steven had been torn away from him.

xXx

His thoughts were a blur, a thick fog that was impenetrable. It was as if his body didn't want him to remember. As if it was better if he just forgot, let go.

He still remembered that he'd dreamed. Or maybe it wasn't a dream, maybe it was the truth, his truth. His life. There was no way to tell. Dream and reality were mixed together and distinction was no longer clear. If it ever had been.

If he could, he would let go now. Separate his spirit from his body and embrace the darkness. A darkness that would never end. The idea attracted him. He felt a deep, dormant desire, stronger than anything he had ever felt. A desire to give in to the dark. To let himself be enwrapped by that coldness and go up into the void.

His old I would have hated him for feeling this way, death was not something you desired, not ever.

But now he was so close. Now he could see the beauty. The real darkness. The darkness had always hunted him, terrified him. Now he knew it was not something to be afraid of. It was the most beautiful thing that existed.

Or almost the most beautiful. His mind showed him a picture of what had once been the most beautiful. More beautiful than this. More beautiful than the darkness. It was light, his light. His life.

But the light had left him, the darkness had claimed his light. And the only way to find his light back was by embracing the darkness, to welcome it.

Then they would come together in the darkness. Together forever.

And so he surrendered, he let go. He surrendered to the darkness to return to his light.

He felt the darkness pull at him, it pulled him closer… and ripped him apart.

It tore him at him and shattered his thoughts. Everything came free, the memories, the images. A terrible pain burned its way through his body and consumed everything.

His body screamed and he fought, he fought, but the darkness wouldn't let him go. It pushed him back to the light. To the reality, to the emotions. To the pain, the grief and the loss.

The darkness had betrayed him. He had surrendered himself to it, but instead of embracing him, it had spat him out and rejected him. It had given him back to the light, but it wasn't his light. His light was absorbed in the darkness and now it was out of his reach forever.

Lost forever.

Brendan tried to slip back into the darkness, but he couldn't.

He knew now, he remembered.

Steven was gone. He'd lost him.

His mind brought him back into the center of his thoughts. The deepest, most precious part of his memories.

Steven's smile, his eyes, his perfect long eyelashes, his golden blond hair, every curve and line of his face, every scar on his body, the way he moved, and slept and…

And Brendan cried, really cried. Soundless, painful sobs, which made his body shake. The tears dripped from between his eyelashes, down his cheeks and got stuck in his moustache. He didn't fight them, every reason to fight was gone. Lost in another life, another person, one that once mattered, but he barely remembered now.

Instead his mind made him relive, every detail, every little moment of his live with Steven.

The way Steven kissed him, the way his every emotion showed off on his face, his ridiculous laugh, the way he showed the tip of his tongue when he was concentrating, the pure love and happiness on his face when he was with his kids, his stupid jokes, and his endless chatter…

Brendan remembered it all. And it didn't stop there. It went on and on. So many memories, things they lived through, moments they shared. Brendan wanted to scream to make it stop. To stop the torture, to stop the pain, a pain he couldn't describe, it ran far too deep.

Yet he never wanted it to stop. It was the only thing he got left, all he would ever have. Memories of a time he could never go back to.

The last remains of sleep left Brendan's body and mind which brought him back to his physical pain. It felt like he hadn't moved a muscle in days, every minimal movement hurt like hell. But it was nothing compared to the pain in his leg, it burned like crazy and it almost made Brendan lose conscious again.

Brendan cleared his throat, his breathing was painfully dry, it seemed like every breath had to fight its way inside. He slowly opened his eyes and realized everything was still dark. He blinked his eyes, but nothing. He saw nothing. Maybe he had gone blind. It was fitting. Without Steven his life was an endless darkness. Without Steven everything which had held beauty once would have lost it.

But when he moved his head slightly he heard the soft rustle of fabric and he realized he was blindfolded. He tried to move his hands and legs, but they were tied to the chair (again!).

Brendan growled frustrated, but it was half-heartedly. He just couldn't… He just couldn't care anymore. What was the point? It didn't matter if he lived or died. He'd already lost everything.

He'd tried so hard to protect Steven. He'd broken things off with him to protect him. To keep him save from this… this life. He'd seen the look in Steven's eyes when he'd told him what he'd done, the betrayal, the hate. He'd broken the boy's heart. And for what? So he could let him get killed in an explosion.

It was his entire fault. All of this. And now he'd lost him, the only person he'd ever truly loved, he'd taken Leah's and Lucas's father away, Amy's best friend. Brendan had at least one comfort.

Soon it would all be over.

A sudden sound startled him and he lifted his head to the sound.

For a moment a bright light shone through his blindfold, but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared. The silence returned in the room, the only sound Brendan's raspy breathing.

Brendan couldn't see or hear the figure, but he knew there was someone on the room. And he knew that this was it. This was him. This was the man who had killed Steven. Brendan could just sense it.

"You're finally awake I see." The voice of the man was just as raw and cold as the time Brendan had spoken to him on the phone. He heard some scraping which held still in front of him and then some light noises. Brendan assumed that the man had sat down opposite of him.

"You killed him," Brendan managed to say. His voice wasn't nearly as cool and emotionless as he had wanted. He couldn't do much more than whisper, due to the raw, dry pain in his throat.

"I am sorry about that," the man spoke slowly, he actually managed to sound apologetic, which infuriated Brendan beyond believe. "I really did not want to hurt him, but it was necessary."

"No, NO. You had me. You got what you wanted. You should have let him go. He didn't deserve to die," Brendan cried out. He knew that he was on the edge of insanity, but he didn't have the capacity to care. He fought to get out of his handcuffs, but they didn't move an inch, it only scraped his skin. He wanted to kill him. He wanted to torture him slowly, until he begged for the death, until there was nothing left but a shell of fear and pain, until he lost all dignity and humanity. And then Brendan would watch him die, slowly , begging to die, an endless torture.

"No, Brendan, I couldn't let him live. I needed to make you feel what it is like to lose someone you love." There was something of curiosity and amazement in his voice. "It hurts, doesn't it? It hurts a lot."

It took Brendan a moment to find his voice back. "Just tell me why? Why me? Why my father?"

"Oh Brendan. All those years off suffering. I thought I was doing you a favor. Are you not glad that I freed this world of that monster? I'm surprised that you have never tried to kill him yourself. You had every reason… and I'm sure every opportunity."

Brendan couldn't keep the desperation and confusion out of his voice. "How do you even know? I've never… And nobody ever saw." Brendan heard the bitterness in his own voice at the last sentence.

"Oh, but you're wrong Brendan. They saw, they knew. They just ignored it, or pretended that it wasn't there. People are just weak, spineless creatures. It's easier for them to act like they don't know then confront what's happening right in front of them."

"No," Brendan whispered. "You're wrong. Nobody knew."

There was a long pause before the man continued. "Yes, they did. Your own stepmother knew, even your own nana knew. They're not stupid Brendan. Deep down inside they knew that your dad was abusing you. They were just too scared to do something about it. They rather acted like they were ignorant then save you from what your own father was doing to you. They are no better-"

Brendan closed his eyes, like that could make it stop. Brendan didn't want to believe him, he wanted to put his hands on his ears, like a child, just to make him stop from hearing the words. But it was too late now, the doubt was already seeping through his defenses. They couldn't have known, could they? They wouldn't have done that to him. They were his family and they loved him. But deep inside he somehow knew that the man was right.

They had always treated him differently. He'd always thought that it was just because they loved Cheryl more, and how could he blame them? She was always happy, always smiling. A pretty, loveable child.

But it had nothing to do with her, he realized, they had been scared, scared of him. Of what his father was doing to him. He suddenly saw everything in a different light. The way they almost seemed to be afraid to touch him, the apologetic looks, the way they had avoided to look him straight in the eye….

He could go on and on. All those things that had seemed normal to him, unimportant, were just them being scared of him.

"No, no," Brendan breathed desperately. "You're wrong. You've gotta be."

The man sighed. "I'm not and you know it."

Brendan held back a sob. He wanted to deny it, erase the thoughts he was having. But he couldn't. His Nan had known, his stepmother had known. And they had done absolutely nothing to stop it.

"You see now. There's no good in this world, in people. Don't tell me you've never hurt anyone." The sound of his footsteps stopped abruptly. "You've got your own kids now, don't you? Have you-"

"I would never hurt them," Brendan interrupted harshly.

He heard some movement and suddenly the man was right in front of him, he could even feel his breathe on his face. "You really wouldn't, would you?" the man sounded faintly surprised.

The breath on his face disappeared and now he could hear footsteps circling him. "Who else do we have? Your sister maybe?"

"Never…" Brendan's voice was barely a whisper.

"Ah, there must be someone though." Brendan could hear the man tap his finger against each other. "If it ain't your sister, nor your kids. It's got to be your boyfriend. It's got to be." The footsteps paused and he felt a hand lifting his head. "Though that sentence isn't completely right. It was your boyfriend."

With a sudden movement Brendan pulled his chin out of the man's grasp by moving his head to the left.

The man clucked his tongue and Brendan could almost hear him smiling "Did I press a soft spot, Brendan? I told you there would be someone you'd hurt. It goes from father to son."

Brendan tensed in his chair. "Don't.

"Did you rape him?"

Brendan clenched his hands into fists, pushing his nails into the palms of his hands. He felt sick to his stomach when he said: "No! I've never-"

"So you just beat him up. How many times?"

"I-"

The man was back in his face: "How many times!" drops of saliva ended up on Brendan's face.

"I don't remember."

The man clucked his tongue again. "Poor, poor Steven. Abused by the man he loved so dearly. A love that cost him his life." The man was suddenly close again, his hand holding Brendan's jaw, his nails digging into his skin. "How could you do that to him? How can you live with yourself Brendan?"

A whimper left Brendan's mouth. Didn't this man, whatever he was called, get that he couldn't live with himself? Hadn't for years. Not since the first time he'd laid a hand on another guy. There were times were he'd thought he could put it behind him, change. But he always fell back into the same patterns, the same routines. He'd never been able to hold himself back.

And he'd thought that maybe this time with Steven would be different. He'd thought that maybe he could chance for the best and create a live, a future to be proud of. But now Steven was gone and he couldn't, he couldn't live with himself. He'd thought he deserved another chance, but this man was right. He didn't deserve to live. This world was better off without him. Cheryl was better off, Lynsey, his kids. And Steven…

Brendan closed his eyes again. He was ready to die, there was no one to hold him back, and no one left to fight for.

The hand was pulled from his face. "You're no better than your dad, you know that," the man hissed, his voice almost sounding disappointed. Brendan let the words flow past him, it didn't mean anything anymore. The man started pacing again, the footsteps almost sounding angry. "I brought you here because I wanted to give you a chance to prove that you deserved to live, to prove that you're nothing like Seamus, but you're no better than your dad so I can't let you live."

Brendan felt relieve flow through him. This man somehow didn't seem to understand that he was only doing him a favor. All he wanted was to die. He was better off dead.

But there was one thing he still didn't get.

"Why do you care so much? It has nothing to do with you. What my dad has done to me, what I did to Steven…" it was hard to even say his name aloud, "None of it has anything to do with you."

"But it does. It has everything to do with me," there was a wicked sound to his voice now. "You and me-"

The door opened with a bang.

"Boss?"

"This better be important" the man, snarled, his voice ice cold and Brendan almost felt sorry for the person, who had interrupted them.

"Jeremy told me to come and get you. Uhm… there's a big fire outside."

The man cursed. "Useless. All of you!"

Footsteps headed for the door, but suddenly they paused and Brendan could almost feel the man's eyes burn into his skin.

"I guess you'll have to wait. I'll be back soon." It sounded like a promise.

The door closed and Brendan heard them lock the door. He frowned. It was not like he was tied to a chair and there was a way he could even get to the door, but oh well.

Brendan was left alone again, with nothing more than his thoughts as company.

He hoped it wouldn't take too long. Now that he was going to die there was no reason to delay it.

Brendan counted the seconds. A minute passed, three, five.

Brendan sighed and tried to stop his mind from thinking about a certain person. He only had to close his eyes and he could see him again. The image was burned behind his eyelids. It was all he had left images, memories. He would never see him again, hear his voice, see his smile. It was all gone, lost.

Tears dripped from his eyes, down his cheeks. He hadn't even realized that he had started crying. If only he'd been braver. If he'd been braver he would have told Steven that he loved him, that he'd never stopped, and that he never would. If he'd been braver he would have told Steven that the boy gave him something to believe in, a future, a chance.

Now there would never be a chance again.

He suddenly heard running footsteps which stopped in front of his door and Brendan's head shot up. Brendan guessed that the man was back, ready to finish what he'd started.

Brendan heard the sound of a struggle and a moment later the sound of a door opening. There fell a stripe of sunlight on Brendan's face before the door was closed again, leaving all of the sounds outside.

It was like the world stopped for a moment. Even though Brendan couldn't see anything he had the feeling something important was going to happen. His breathing accelerated and his heart pounded against his chest.

The person who was standing by the door hadn't made a move either, as if he was waiting for something, or looking for something important.

Then he heard the sound of footsteps and he could rather feel than see that the person squat before him. The person reached out his hands and touched Brendan's face. Brendan's heart skipped a beat. The hands were cold on his skin.

A thumb moved over his lips, making him open his mouth a bit. He could feel the hesitance by the person in front of him for a second, before lips were pressed against his. Every fibre in his body tensed up and the only thing he could feel were these lips pressed on his, the hands touching his face. The person took advantage of Brendan's slightly open mouth and pushed his tongue inside. Brendan kissed him back cause he recognized the feeling of those lips, he recognized the hands holding his face.

Then the kiss ended, the lips leaving his mouth. But the hands were still touching him and the face of the person was still so close Brendan could smell his scent.

One word came from his lips: "Steven."