So this is the chapter that you may find a little...interesting...

I have no idea what's possessed me to write this, but its a two parter so the majority of the drama won't be until the next chapter which should be up by Sunday at the latest. I dread to think about what response I'll get from this, but all I can beg you to do is be kind, I thought this would be funny if nothing else so just...give it a chance! :D

"You should 'ave let me finish it," Chris Ellis cracked his knuckles arrogantly as he watched his brother shuffle through papers on his desk. "I could 'ave taken him,"

Stopping what he was doing for a moment, Benjamin looked up at his younger brother with a smirk. Shoving his hands into his trouser pockets, he nodded and pursed his lips.

"You actually think that you could take Pete in a fight?" he raised an eyebrow.

"Why the hell not?" Chris frowned. "I'm…"

"The size of his arm," Benjamin finished with a laugh. "You'd be dead before you hit the ground, princess. Now if you're done talking shit, I need a hand taking this out to the car,"

"What is this?" Chris asked, hopping off of the desk and picking up a huge book.

"Its Shakespeare shit," Benjamin answered. "As if ten year olds give a shit about Hamlet,"

Shrugging, Chris simply grabbed another few books, stacking them against his chest and heading out of the classroom with his brother behind him, skilfully managing to switch the light off which his elbow.

"So what's happening now?" Chris asked, his voice muffled by the books in front of his face.

"I dunno…" Benjamin shook his head. "Dinner I guess, d'you fancy pizza or somethin' because I can't-…"

"About Pete and Allie, you twat," Chris snapped, kicking the door open.

"Oh," Benjamin took a deep breath. "Fuck if I know, I mean I talked to 'er and she's…"

"She's what?" Chris stopped and laughed. "Benny boy, if you want to finish a sentence any time today that would be-…"

"Pete!" Benjamin shouted suddenly, making the younger man jump and nearly drop the stack of book he was holding.

"Pete?" Chris frowned. "You talked to Allie and she's…Pete?"

"You're thick as shit, you know that brother?" Benjamin asked, placing the box he was carrying on the floor and jogging over to the bench which overlooked the sports field.

Squinting into the distance, Chris could just about make out the lone figure sat on it, the hunched shoulders and general air of defeat belonging to Pete Dunham.

Fighting the urge to roll his eyes, Chris dutifully walked over as well; why was it that everyone was supposed to feel sorry for him? Jesus, if Chris could see how easy it was to solve what was going on between him and Allie, why where they finding it so hard?

"Fuckin' English with their drama," he muttered under his breath as he yanked the sleeves of his sweater down far enough to cover his freezing cold hands.

"Brother, what are you doing here?" Benjamin was saying as he walked over.

Pete continued to stare straight ahead, his blue eyes stoic and eerily empty.

"Pete," Benjamin snapped. "What the fuck is going on with you?"

"I just wanted to see it," Pete muttered.

"See what?" Chris frowned.

"The place where my life fucked up for the first time," Pete snorted, gesturing to the bench.

"What are you on about?" Benjamin shook his head. "Are you pissed again?"

"I went to see 'er," Pete carried on, still apparently talking to himself. "And she wouldn't answer the door,"

"Maybe she wasn't in?" Benjamin shrugged.

"Her car was there," Pete snapped, looking up at him for the first time since they'd begun talking.

"Alright, well maybe she's just not ready to talk yet," he offered, unsure of what he was supposed to say.

"Yeah, well she seemed pretty fuckin' chatty when she was with you the other day," Pete half shouted, narrowing his eyes dangerously.

"What?" Benjamin laughed. "Pete, brother are you high or something?"

"I should 'ave known better than to trust you," he carried on. "I know you too well,"

"What's that supposed to mean?" the Scotsman squared his shoulders as Pete stood up and faced him. Benjamin was more than aware that Pete could probably kill him with a single punch if need be but that didn't mean he was going out like a pussy.

"It means I have a habit of putting my trust in the wrong people," Pete cocked his head. "Matt, Bov…you,"

"I was trying to make the peace, brother," Benjamin hissed. "I was doing you a fucking favour seeming as you're unable to do anything other than fuck things up,"

"You what?" Pete snapped.

"You heard me," Benjamin shook his head. "Allie's an amazing girl and here you are sat on your own feeling sorry for yourself and mumbling on about how shit your life is. Do you have any idea what an ungrateful prick you sound like right now?"

"Uh Ben?" Chris patted his brother on the shoulder and smiled tightly. "I really need you not to get killed, I can't afford the rent on my own,"

"Don't worry, he won't touch me, will you Petey Pie?" Benjamin grinned. "Because deep down in that pretty little head of yours, you know I'm right,"

"You don't know shit about what's going on with me and Allie," Pete spat. "It's so easy to sit on the outside and dish out bullshit advice, ain't it?"

"Yeah, especially when the situation is as easy as yours," Benjamin laughed. "All you have to do is say sorry, you dumb fuck!"

"Maybe that's not enough this time," Pete told him.

"Yeah, alright, maybe its not," he laughed. "But what gets me, what makes me fuckin' sick is that you won't even try it and that brother, makes you more pathetic than I ever thought you could be,"

"You what?" Pete snapped.

"You heard me," Benjamin shoved him backwards into the bench. "So grow a pair and go back there, will ya? Because you're starting to do my fuckin' head in!"

Pete shook his head and shoved him back, much harder than Benjamin had shoved him.

"Oh, so you wanna play, huh sweetheart?" Benjamin smirked. "Alright, someone needs to knock some sense into you, don't they?"

"Oh yeah?" Pete laughed. "And what are you gonna do about it, nancy boy?"

"This," Benjamin told him calmly, before drawing back his fist and slamming it into Pete's face, sending him tumbling back onto the floor, wincing when his head caught the corner of the bench before he hit the floor.

"Oh shit," Chris breathed, looking over his brothers shoulder at the unconscious man on the floor. "We're going to prison, aren't we?"

"No," Benjamin sighed. "But Pete is,"

"What?" Chris frowned. "Why?"

"Because Christopher," Benjamin breathed, bending down and dragging Pete to his feet. "When he wakes up, he's going to kill us both."

It was God knows how many hours later that Pete woke up slowly, his eyes drifting open and adjusting to the brightness of the room.

"Fuck," he hissed, his hand instantly flying up to cup the side of his face where Benjamin had punched him. The pain shot through his face in waves, forcing his eyes closed again until it had passed. "I'll kill the fucker," he muttered, opening and closing his mouth in an attempt to stretch his jaw.

Rolling over to face the window, he opened his eyes cautiously and stared out at the gray sky, watching the thick droplets of rain as they scurried down the glass.

It was only then that he noticed the room; dark blue walls surrounded him, posters for the Zutons, the Killers and other bands were dotted around, a West Ham scarf not unlike the one he used to have in his own apartment stretched across the far wall.

"Where the fuck am I?" he muttered, sitting up and rubbing the back of his neck tiredly.

Glancing down he saw that he had slept in his clothes again and sniffed his t-shirt grimacing at the rather…interesting aroma it was carrying.

What the hell had happened last night?

Something crunched under his foot as he moved to stand up and looking down at the crumpled beer can, he suddenly realised why his memory of last night was so hazy. They'd probably headed down the pub after their confrontation to talk things through and ended up shit faced again.

Yanking the bedroom door open, Pete stopped and blinked realising that he wasn't in Benjamin's flat.

"Bovver?" he shouted, wincing at how loud his own voice sounded. "Matt?"

"Oi,"

The voice made him jump and he turned to face the intruder, frowning in confusion when he saw Dave standing there in a towel, his hair plastered to his forehead.

"What the fuck are you yelling about?" he asked.

"What?" Pete shook his head. "Mate, why the fuck are you 'ere?"

"Funny," Dave rolled his eyes. "I've gotta be at work in an hour, d'you need a lift?"

"Where?" Pete asked. "Look, mate this is…"

"Pete, are you still pissed or something?" Dave frowned, making his way down the hall. "You know Steve will go apeshit if you rock up hung over again,"

"Steve?" the blonde blinked. "What's he got to do with anything?"

"Jesus, Dunham, I know havin' your brother as your boss 'as gotta 'ave its perks but he won't let you off again, not after the stunt you pulled last week," Dave laughed. "He did not look fuckin' amused when you walked in with 'dick' written on your forehead,"

Pete stared at his friend for a long moment, trying to work out what the fuck was going on. Why was Dave saying that he worked for Steve? And why the fuck was Dave here anyway? In fact better yet…where was 'here?'

"Why was you shouting out for Bov and Matt anyway?" Dave asked, walking into what was apparently his bedroom but leaving the door open enough so that he could hear Pete talk.

"I thought I was at the flat…I mean at their flat…I uh…" Pete rubbed the back of his head, feeling the headache coming on and gritting his teeth. "Where's Benjamin?"

"Benjamin?" Dave sounded confused and there was a short pause before he continued. "The Scottish bloke you used to work with? I dunno, why the fuck would I know where he is?"

"Because I saw 'im last night," Pete snapped. "I was at the school,"

Suddenly the bedroom door whipped open and Dave glared at him as he buttoned up his shirt.

"You sure that was a good idea, mate?" he asked soberly. "I mean, after what 'appened last year…"

"What did happen last year?" Pete shook his head.

"You really wanna get into this now, Pete?" Dave sighed. "Fuckin' 'ell, its been talked to death, let's just leave it, yeah?"

Pete opened his mouth, wanting to ask more questions, wanting to know what the hell was going on but he was stopped when Dave shook his head and reached for his tie.

"I'm serious mate," he muttered. "Not now, alright?"

Realising that whatever had happened must have been a lot more serious than he expected, Pete simply nodded and stared at the floor, trying to work out what to do next.

"So are you gonna get ready or what?" Dave asked him a moment later. "You can't go into work looking like that?"

"Dave, mate something really fuckin' weird is goin' on," Pete shook his head. "I think I'm in a coma or somethin' because this is seriously fucked up."

"What?" Dave laughed. "Christ, what'd you drink last night?"

"I'm serious," Pete shouted. "Why the fuck am I here? I was with Benjamin and Chris, we were talking about Allie and…"

He blinked, his heart racing as he looked up at Dave and clicked his fingers.

"Allie!" he shouted. "Where's Allie?"

Dave stared at his friend with a mixture of confusion and sympathy, whatever had happened last night must have been bad.

"Allie?" he raised an eyebrow. "Who's Allie?"

Those two words were enough to knock the air out of Pete Dunham's lungs; he leant back against the wall and dropped his head down into his hands.

"Ok, this is just…." He muttered to himself. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!"

"Whoa," Dave took a step back. "Bloody 'ell, calm down, mate,"

"Calm down?" Pete laughed. "This has to be a joke…how the fuck can you not know who Allie is?"

"Allie," Dave pursed his lips and thought hard. "She one of the birds you bought back last week?" he smirked. "Oi, was she the one with the…"

He gestured to his chest and Pete groaned, suddenly feeling ill.

"No, no…Dave, come on!" he pleaded. "Allie! She's blonde, green eyes, nice arse, twatty posh accent…you know, the one who married me?"

Dave stared at him for a moment and then burst out laughing, shaking his head as he continued to button his shirt.

"Nice one," he snorted. "And when did you get married, Pete?"

"You were there!" Pete shouted. "You were a fuckin' usher for fuck sake!"

"Right," Dave nodded. "And was this before or after I was made Prime Minister and 'ad a threesome with Jessica Alba and Sienna Miller?"

"I'm not joking," Pete whispered. "What the fuck is going on here?"

"Look, mate," Dave chuckled, placing a hand on Pete's shoulder. "I dunno what the fuck you got into last night and I don't really wanna know, but I do need you to go get ready because if you're late for work again, Steve will fire you, you won't be able to pay the rent and you'll be right back living with Bovver,"

"Bov," Pete frowned. "I lived with Bov?"

"Christ," Dave sighed. "Look, just go get changed, I'll get you some coffee and you can sort your 'ead out in the car."

"But…"

"Pete," Dave snapped. "Come on, mate. I know it's a shit time at the moment but bite the bullet, yeah?"

Pete watched as he made his way down the hallway into what appeared to be the kitchen and let the door slam behind him, leaving Pete to stare at it helplessly, trying to work out what the hell was going on.

"I don't give a shit what time it is out there, you need to fax me those numbers or we're all up shit creek, you get me?"

Pete raised his eyebrows as he stared through the glass window to where his brother was pacing a hole in the carpet. Suddenly, the older Dunham man turned on him, his eyes set in a fierce glare as he crooked his finger and gestured for him to come into the office.

"What fuckin' time do you call this?" Steve hissed before Pete even had a chance to close the door behind him.

"Steve," Pete shook his head. "Look, bruv, somethin' really fucked up is happening and I-…"

"Pete, I don't care, alright," he sighed. "Whatever it is, it can wait…"

"No, it really fuckin' can't," Pete slammed his hand down on the desk. "I need someone to tell me what the fuck is going on! Last night I was talking to Benjamin about Allie, next thing I know the twat punches me out and I wake up…here!"

"Where's here?" Steve shrugged.

"I don't know! That's the fuckin' problem!" Pete shouted. "I'm living with Dave, working for you, no one knows who Allie is…"

"Not another bird, surely?" Steve smirked. "I swear, you get through more birds than I do hot meals,"

"Allie's my wife," Pete snapped.

"Really?" his brother asked with an amused snort. "And is Elvis your dad n' all?"

Pete sighed and slumped down in one of the leather chairs opposite the desk, burying his head in his arms and taking a deep breath. It was fine…whatever was going on was fixable. It had to be.

Lifting his head after a long moment, he went to say something else but the words became tangled in his throat when he spotted the photo on Steve's desk.

"Who's that?" he asked nervously.

"Who?" Steve frowned, craning his neck to get a better look at the photo. "Alright, Pete seriously, are you pissed or something?"

"Who is that?" Pete asked again, his voice louder and more firm.

"Its Gemma," Steve rolled his eyes. "Gemma as in my wife, Gemma."

"Wife?" Pete laughed. "Fuck me, this is nuts, what about Shannon?"

Steve's demeanour changed instantly, his eyes narrowing and darkening rapidly.

"I get that you're in a bad way, mate, but don't bring that up with me, alright?"

Pete frowned, his stomach plummeting when he noticed tears in his brothers eyes.

"Just…get to work, alright," Steve practically whispered. "We've got a meeting in an hour,"

Watching as he slammed his way out of the office, Pete sat back in his chair and sighed loudly. Something new to add to the mix then: Shannon and Steve were divorced.

"Wake up," he whispered to himself, closing his eyes tightly. "Come on, its all just a dream, wake the fuck up."

A sudden shrill noise broke him out of his reverie and he glanced about the office in confusion trying to make out where all the racket was coming from.

Frowning, Pete shoved his hands into his pockets and soon pulled out a phone, squinting at the name on the screen and feeling somewhat relieved when he saw that it was his mum. It had to be the first time since he was 5 that a phone call from his mum got him excited.

"Mum!" he laughed answering the phone. "Fuckin' 'ell am I glad you called,"

"Watch your language," Moira chuckled. "And what exactly has happened that makes you so eager to speak to me?"

"I uh…" Pete pursed his lips, debating how to put this. "Alright," he licked his lips deciding that he'd get the hard question out of the way first. "I wanted to talk to you about Allie,"

"Allie," Moira went quiet, forcing Pete to hold his breath in anticipation. "Not another girl, for God sake Pete,"

"Bollocks," he hissed.

"Language!" Moira shot back. "Now listen, I don't know who this Allie girl is but can you at least make this one last a week? All I want you to do is find a nice girl…like your brother did,"

"Which one are you talking about?" Pete snorted. "Gemma or Shannon?"

"Pete," his mother warned. "You can't go around talking about her like that, you know how Steve gets,"

"Yeah, well if he loves her so much, why's he with the skank he's married to now?" Pete snapped.

"I'm just saying you know how sensitive he is about it, especially given it was two years ago today," Moira sighed.

"What? The divorce?"

"Pete, Jesus, please don't tell me you've forgotten?" Moira whispered. "Its two years today that…"

"That what?" Pete muttered, staring out of the window across the Thames and wondering if Allie was out there somewhere.

"I know you and Steve haven't always gotten on well since what happened with that Tommy fellow," Moira murmured. "But just be there for him today. I know he's happy with Gemma but sometimes I look at him and think…oh, I don't know,"

"What?" Pete rolled his eyes. "Mum, what are you on about?"

"It wouldn't have been so bad if he hadn't found her, you know," Moira whispered, the tears evident in her voice. "I just wish that she'd thought to phone one of us before she…" she shuddered. "I know you weren't always that keen on her, but she deserved more than to die in a bathroom surrounded by pills, Pete."

He froze at those words, his heart beat slowing down until he began to worry it would stop altogether.

"W-what?" he stuttered.

"Its Ben I feel sorry for," his mother continued. "He was so young when he lost her, you should never have to lose your mother, not like that anyway,"

"Shannon…Shannon killed herself?" Pete whispered, gripping the desk so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

"Pete, why are you asking all this?" Moira sounded exasperated. "You and Steve found her body that night…I mean, what's the matter with you?"

"Nothing," Pete shook his head, feeling more than a little sick. "Nothing at all,"

"Just look after your brother today, alright?" she pleaded.

"Yeah," Pete swallowed hard. "I got it, don't worry."

"Good boy," Moira breathed. "And make sure you're both here for Sunday lunch, alright?"

"Yeah, sure," he nodded, not really paying attention anymore. "I'll call you later, mum,"

"Alright, oh and darlin'?" she caught him quickly.

"Yeah?"

"Whoever this Allie girl is," Moira didn't even try to hide her disgust. "If you like 'er, I hope it works out,"

"Yeah," Pete nearly laughed. "Believe me, so do I,"

"So basically what it comes down to is this bloke is a prick but he's spending a lot of money on our new system so we might 'ave to kiss his arse a little bit,"

"That's alright," Pete shrugged, taking a sip of orange juice.

"Since when do you opt for juice when lunch is on the company account?" Steve snorted.

"Just didn't feel like a beer today," he licked his lips and eyed the menu, feeling his stomach tense when he noted how much a steak cost. "Listen, bruv, about me spazzing out on you earlier, I'm-…."

"Pete, don't worry about it," Steve shook his head. "Today is…it's a total head fuck and not just for me,"

"Yeah but-…"

"It's alright, Pete," Steve smiled tightly. "I just wanna get through this and go 'ome so can we drop it?"

"Sure," Pete nodded. "Whatever,"

"Right," Steve nodded in return, wiping his sweaty palms on his trousers. "Where is this twat?"

"I really hope you're referring to the waiter,"

The voice made Pete's blood run cold and had it not been so terrifying, he would have laughed. No…there was no way….

Turning in his seat he looked up at the man and shook his head, his eyes narrowing as he stared coldly at him.

"You must be Steve," he smiled cockily. "My name's…"

"Will," Pete spat, drawing curious looks from both the man in question and his brother.

"I'm sorry," Will shook his head. "Have we met?"

"Uh…" Pete stuttered, looking at Steve who shrugged. "No, well, I've uh, I did my research,"

"Impressive," Will pursed his lips. "And to think my partner was wittering on about this company being run by idiots,"

Steve frowned but stepped aside anyway allowing the blonde to sit down.

"So, what are we having?" Will asked, picking up the wine list. "The Le Tour is fantastic,"

"Ain't wine a bit poncy for a bloke?" Pete asked, ignoring the look of horror Steve shot at him.

"As opposed to Sunny Delight?" Will smirked, gesturing to Pete's orange juice. "I suppose you'll be having the lunch your mummy made for you while the grown ups order off of the menu,"

Shaking his head, Pete opened his menu hard enough to make it rip slightly and stared at the words hard until they began to blur together.

"Can we make this quick, gents," Will asked, pouring himself some water. "I have an engagement of sorts to get to,"

"Its pretty straight forward," Steve shrugged. "All you need to do is look over the contract I drew up and sign it,"

"You make it sound so easy," Will smirked.

"Well, we wouldn't want you getting confused, would we?" Pete grinned, wincing when his brother kicked him under the table.

"Well, if that's the case, let me just…" Will picked up a pen and scrawled his signature. "So if that's that then I don't think we need to drag this out any longer, do we?"

"If you're happy, we're happy," Steve shrugged.

"Fantastic," Will clapped his hands together. "And right on time, if you'll excuse me gentlemen, it would seem that my prior engagement has come to me,"

Frowning, Pete turned slightly and followed his gaze towards the front of the restaurant where squinting through the crowd, he could just about make her out.

His stomach plummeted to his toes, his heart sped up, his mouth went so dry he knew that even if he somehow found the words, he wouldn't be able to speak them.

"Fuck," he whispered, shaking his head slightly as he pulled himself to his feet and met her eyes across the room, his heart pounding as she smiled lightly at him. "Lara,"

And its about to get interesting.... ;) Please let me know what you think, as I said, this was just a silly idea that I had on a whim. If its any consolation, the next chapter really is better! haha! Reviews would be welcome! xxx