Ok, so this is the second part of the arc. Basically this takes place after Pete has beaten up Mikey and gives you the story of just what got him to go to Allie's house afterwards. Hope you like it, let me know even if you don't…reviews are scarce and I'm getting disheartened! Whoever reads this…I hope you enjoy it!

"Dad it's really not that bad," Allie winced as her father continued to shout at her down the phone. She knew that it wasn't out of anger, he was merely scared for her, but even so that didn't make it any more pleasant to sit through. Glaring at Lara who walked into the kitchen and pointed at the clock, silently reminding Allie that it was time to take her next dose of painkillers, she wondered what had compelled her best friend to call her father and tell him what had happened.

As if she didn't have enough on her plate…

"I'm out now and they've said that in a month I'll be back to normal," she winced at his reaction. "Yes, a month. They've said all the bruising will be gone…no, it's…look, dad, I'm safe now ok? I've got Lara here and-…what?" she frowned and Lara watched as her face fell slightly. "No, Pete's gone out to get some food," she mumbled. "Listen Dad, I'm tired so I'm just going to…ok, I know. I love you, too," she hung up the phone and practically threw it onto the table, dropping her head into her hands and trying to keep from screaming.

"Lying to your dad about your boyfriend," Lara raised her eyebrows. "Most girls would take that as something of a warning sign,"

Allie looked at her in utter disgust and then hobbled out of the kitchen, towards the stairs.

"Allie, I didn't mean it like that!"

She completely ignored her and instead focused on making her way up the stairs without falling over; with her ribs in such a mess it was proving fairly difficult to bend her legs properly and she winced as pain shot through her chest with each tiny step.

Sighing when she finally reached her bedroom after what seemed like an eternity, she carefully sat on the edge of the bed and closed her eyes, content to let the pain wash through her for a moment.

Glancing at her mobile phone, she saw that there were no missed calls and felt the familiar sting of tears in her eyes again. She knew why Pete was upset, she knew that he blamed himself for what had happened, but she couldn't understand why he couldn't just be there for her. Flipping the phone open, she dialled the number she knew off by heart and almost chuckled when it went straight to voicemail…again. Waiting for him to finish talking, she bit her lip as the beep rang out in her ears and she sighed deeply.

"Pete?" she asked warily, wondering if he was in the flat would he be willing to answer the phone this time, knowing it was her. Apparently not. "I just wanted to call and see how you were doing really," she laughed lightly. "I haven't seen you in what, four days now and I just…" her breath got shaky and she felt a tear slip down her cheek. "I know it's really pathetic but I need you right now. I can't deal with this on my own without you here…I just," she sobbed and then shook her head trying to keep it together. "I need you to know that this isn't your fault, that I don't blame you, Christ Pete, I'm not even angry, I just…if you're there can you please pick up?" she whispered. "Please? I love you so much and I need you here, please baby?"

For a long moment, she simply sat in silence crying down the phone before shaking her head hard and taking a deep breath. He either wasn't there or he just didn't want to speak to her. She didn't really want to think about either of those facts so instead she closed her eyes and bit her lip to keep from sobbing as she told him she loved him one last time before hanging up the phone and falling back onto the bed, sobbing into the pillow until she was so exhausted that she fell asleep.

"I love you, Pete,"

That last whisper on the end; he kept listening to it over and over again, trying to picture her there next to him, her skin touching his, her eyes twinkling as she smiled at him, not a hint of sadness in them. Just the way things had been before he had fucked it all up by dragging her into something that she had no place in.

Rubbing his eyes and feeling the wetness on his fingers when he pulled them away, Pete sighed knowing that he needed to get out of here now otherwise he'd lose his mind completely.

Yanking on his jacket, he slammed out of his flat and ran down the stairs ignoring the protests from the old creaking floor boards under his feet.

He should go to her, fuck, he wanted to go to her, to just hold her and tell her that he was sorry but for whatever reason, he couldn't. It was all to do with guilt, that much he knew, but she was the woman he loved and she needed him, why the hell couldn't he bring himself to be with her.

Rubbing the back of his head tiredly, he looked up and blinked in surprise when he realised where he had unintentionally ended up. Pushing through the gates of St. Mark's graveyard, Pete ignored the cold wind which kicked up around him as he navigated the headstones looking for the one he knew all to well.

Michael Dunham

Born: 23rd March 1961

Died: July 12th 1999

Beloved father, husband and brother,

May he rest in peace

Pete stared at the faded stone for a long moment, not sure how he felt. It was the same every time he came here, he knew that he should be sad, maybe even shed a tear or two but instead he would stare at the headstone and think about nothing but how much he had hated the man. Remembering the way his father would often treat his mother, Pete clenched his fists picturing the mysterious bruises she would sometimes have or the way she would get spoken to as though she was nothing of importance. What if that was his future? What if that was how he ended up treating Allie? Staring down at the cuts and bruises on his knuckles, he realised that last night with Mikey had given him a glimpse of the man he was risking turning into. And what if the man was turning into was the same as his father…did that mean that one day he could hurt Allie?

Closing his eyes, he told himself that it wasn't possible, that he loved her too much for their relationship to ever see that fate.

"Oh lord, I know that look…you're in trouble,"

He turned and frowned at the familiar face stood behind him, smiling softly as she clutched a bunch of flowers.

"What are you doing here, mum?" Pete smiled back at her, holding out his hand and helping her clamber over the uneven ground.

"Same thing I do every Tuesday." She shrugged, kneeling down and placing the flowers on her husband's grave. Being widowed in your early 40's when you had two boys wasn't exactly something that every mother dreamed of, but Moira Dunham had dealt with it better than anyone else Pete could think of. Never in their lives had he and Steve wanted for anything and he knew how hard his mum had worked to keep them going.

"But that doesn't explain why you're here," she raised an eyebrow, knowing that Pete and his father had been far from the best buddies he and Steve had.

"Just needed some fresh air," he told her, glancing about the gloomy looking grounds. "Don't know how but for whatever reason I ended up here,"

Reaching out, Moira took his chin and tilted his head up, shaking her head when she caught the faint bruise on his chin and the cut on his temple.

"Another one," she sighed. "Most mothers stop worrying about playground scraps when their sons reach the age of twelve let alone twenty-two,"

"This one wasn't down to me," Pete told her firmly.

"Funny that," she smiled wryly at him. "Neither were the other hundred you've had in the last year,"

Rolling his eyes, Pete chuckled as his mother linked her arm through his and led him over to a nearby bench, perching down on it and glancing around the graveyard.

"So how are things going with that gorgeous girl of yours?" she asked, her eyes twinkling. Moira had more or less fallen in love with Allie within about three seconds of meeting her and vice-versa. Having never had a mother of her own really, Allie had revelled in the attention Moira had given her, for some reason feeling closer to her than to Shannon who often seemed a little bit stuck up for Moira's liking.

"She's alright," Pete nodded, not wanting to give anything away.

"Oh Jesus," Moira laughed and shook her head. "What've you gone and done now?"

"What?" Pete frowned. So much for not giving anything away…

"Oh come on," she nudged him. "I'm your mum; I know when you're lying. So you can either tell me what's gone on or I'll call Allie and ask her myself,"

"You've got my girlfriend's number?" Pete frowned at her, a smile tugging at his lips.

"How else is she going to tell me all about the horrible things you do?" Moira grinned and then patted his hand. "Come on, out with it,"

"We had a fight," Pete sighed, rubbing the back of his head and debating just how much to tell his mum. She'd go insane if he told her the whole truth, but then he didn't want to lie to her either. "It was my fault,"

"What happened?"

Pete tilted his head up and looked at the sky which was rapidly clouding over, the temperature dropping by just that much that you could feel it in the air, nipping at your skin.

"Allie got…." He shook his head and felt tears sting his eyes again. "She's hurt, mum. Someone attacked her,"

"Jesus Christ," Moira gasped. "When? Why the hell didn't you bloody tell me?"

"It was a couple of days ago, on the underground. She was on her way home from work to come and see me and she got jumped."

"The poor, poor thing," she shook her head sadly. "Oh sweetheart, I'm so sorry. How is she now?"

"She was in hospital last time I saw her," he winced when he realised what he'd said.

"What do you mean 'last time you saw her'?" she studied her son's face carefully, knowing full well when he was lying to her.

"The bloke who attacked her," he took a deep breath and leant forward so that he was resting his elbows on his knees. "It was Mikey Mullins,"

"Mikey?" Moira asked. "The skinny little sod you went to school with?"

"Yeah," Pete nodded. "And I can't help thinking," he sighed heavily, the weight in his chest doubling as he thought about it. "You know what this area's like mum, what the fuck was I doing letting my girlfriend walk around here at 2 in the morning on her own?"

"It's not your fault, sweetheart," she told him, squeezing his hand again. "And I can bet my last bloody pound that she doesn't blame you either,"

"It's not the point though, is it?" he hissed. "She could have been…they could have done anything to her and I wouldn't have been able to do anything," he felt tears sting his eyes and looked away. "I should have been there for her and I let her down,"

"No, darlin'," Moira shook her head vehemently. "The only way you can let her down is not to be there for her now," she rubbed his back gently. "Go and see her, I promise you once you do, you'll feel a million times better,"

"She's better off without me, mum," Pete told her firmly. "All this time I think we've both been fooling ourselves, making out that this is something that could actually work when in reality it's a fucking joke,"

"No it's not," she slapped his shoulder hard. "And don't you bloody tell me any different! I've never seen you as happy as you are when you're with her, and the only way I'll let you think otherwise is if you can sit there and tell me that you don't love Allie," she paused and looked at him seriously. "So come on, then, do you love her or not?"

Pete looked up at his mum and laughed, shaking his head lightly; the woman had always had a way of getting to him, mentally shaking him and making him see sense. Jesus, the fact that Allie had been the only one of his girlfriends that his mum had ever flat out liked should have been a sign enough…

"I love her," he told her honestly, staring at the ground and bashfully nudging a rock with his trainer. "I love her more than anything,"

"Well then," Moira dusted off her knees and shrugged. "There's your bloody answer, Pete. She's such a lovely girl and I know how much she loves you," she caught his chin and forced him to look at her. "Give yourself a break and don't let stupid doubts mess this up; the girls like her, you never let go of,"

"Steve said-…"

"Steve says a lot of bloody things," she snorted. "He's your big brother, of course he's going to stick his oar in but that doesn't mean he's right about everything." She bit her lip, looking at the cut on his temple again and shook her head. "So I take it that Mikey's to blame for this then, is he? Pete, you know how I feel about you fighting,"

"I had to," he protested. "He went after her to get to me,"

"You were always different," Moira told him. "From Steve, from your dad," she gestured towards the grave stone and swallowed hard. "You had something they didn't…you had this, this heart about you. You're too good to get mixed up in all this nonsense…"

"You sound like Allie," Pete snorted.

"Well, she's a smart girl and if you won't listen to me then listen to her," she shook her head. "We both care about you too much to see you get lost in all this,"

She let down and kissed his forehead and he laughed; why was it that mum's couldn't understand that kissing their sons in public no matter how old they were was never going to be classified as acceptable.

"Now come on," she jerked her head to where she had parked her car. "I'll drive you to her house and you can sort this mess out," she started walking over towards the gates and didn't have to look behind her to know that her son was still sat on the bench staring at his father's gravestone and making no move to follow her. "Remember when you were 7 and you refused to get off of the slide at the end of the school day so I dragged you to the car by your ear?" she called with a small smile in her voice. "Don't think you're too big for me not to do it again,"

Smirking and shaking his head, Pete stood up and followed her, pausing briefly at his father's grave, suddenly realising that he had something his father never did. He had the chance to change and he'd be fucked if he was going to let it slip past him now. Feeling the first raindrop fall onto his shoulder as a clap of thunder rolled across the early London sky, he bent down and whispered something that his father would never hear, but that Pete could only hope he had known.

"I'll never be you,"