Title: Magic Mirrors
Author: MercuryPheonix (Your Angel of Music)
Fandom: EastEnders
Warnings: Some violent imagery, some sexual references
Spoilers: Begins in the period following Tamwar and Afia's wedding (early July, 2011).

Summary: In the midst of a turbulent period in Christian and Syed's relationship, a mysterious figure from Christian's past emerges with a revelation that rocks him to the core. In a world of uncertainly, there is only one thing that can be guaranteed: the couple's lives will never be the same again.

A/N: My most glorious beta, lady in witing, is back with us in the world of not-doing-a-drama-production. Hooray! And she very promptly resumed the wonderful job she was doing of betaing this fiction. So a huge shout out to her for returning and for being amazing. This couldn't happen without her. It also couldn't happen without your generous feedback - it really does feed the muse, so I thank you from the bottom of my heart.

'Family faces are magic mirrors. Looking at people who belong to us, we see the past, present, and future.'

~Gail Lumet Buckley

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Chapter 5

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As he neared the entrance to their flat, Syed felt a nervous shiver run down his spine. He tried to tell himself that it was the last remnants of the rain, the dampness clinging to his skin, along with the fact that he'd been up and busy since the early hours of the morning.

But, in his heart of hearts, he couldn't deny that the thought of returning to that frostiness – that atmosphere that had been left hanging in the air after last night's all-too-familiar disagreement – was enough to make him turn around and head straight back to the salon. A very large part of him knew that he'd rather sit in the empty building, with nothing but the shampoo and scissors to keep him company, than plaster over the cracks with a smile.

Because he knew that, if he went into the flat now, that would be his first instinct: paint over the problems with prettiness and words, just like they always did. Draw on the love that had never faltered, never waned, to cover and disguise all the issues that were gripping them in a clawed grasp.

He loved Christian. Christian loved him. He was sure of that. But sometimes love wasn't enough. They were human: fallible, flawed, perhaps more than most.

It was so, so easy to just let the love be, to use it as a comfort blanket that could protect from them from the problems that they had created. To hug, smile, kiss, make love and forget that anything had ever burrowed its way between them.

But another, smaller part of him knew that he had to take Tanya's words to heart. She'd spoken nothing but the truth. They did need to talk – they needed to be honest. Even if that meant that one of them was hurt in the short term – and he knew both of them would probably be hurt in the short term – it also meant they could work through it. Fight their way out of the tangled mess they'd woven, cutting through until they reached the light on the other side.

If there was one thing, and one thing only, that Syed was certain of, it was that he and Christian could fight their way through anything. They'd proved that, to themselves and to the world. Together, they could be invincible – if only they gave themselves permission.

Syed took another breath, grasping the key that nestled snugly in the bottom of his jacket. He stole a brief moment to consider how secure it was in there - as if it had carved out its own little nook – before he drew it out and slotted it into the lock.

If he was going to start this, then he had to be the one going into the flat. Christian couldn't be the one to let him in. This had to come from him. No more waiting for someone else to open the door – this time, he had to do it himself.

Usually, he'd take the stairs two at a time, springing upwards in a bid to find himself in the warmth of home; home being both the place where he could truly be himself and the arms of the man he loved.

But this time he was more cautious, brushing his heels against the ledge of each step before he even contemplated taking another. Like he was a condemned man en route to his execution. No, that's not right. Not condemned, not yet. More like a man taking each slow step to face his jury – to say what he needed to say and then face his judgement in silence.

And just when did he start considering Christian to be his jury?

As he reached the main door, he stopped; passing a hand through his hair as the keys hung shakily from his thumb. The metal rattled against his skull, knocking tiredly as if to try and urge those thoughts in his head into some kind of coherency.

It struck him as a little ironic that the entrance to the flat was a little bit like the state of their relationship at the moment in time – just when you make your way through one door, you find yourself confronted with another solid structure blocking your path.

The urge to knock his head fitfully against the wood of the door was almost painfully intense. But the knowledge that he had to enter the flat of his own volition, however much he wanted to knock on that door and let Christian stand there with his arms wide open, was enough for him to hold back and brace his key in the lock.

And then he turned it.

Now or never.

"Christian, I…"

And that's as far as he got.

Because the person standing in front of him wasn't Christian.

Instead, he was met by a pair of dark, accusing eyes; deep orbs framed by pale skin and platinum hair. There was suspicion swimming in them, piercing distrust that shot out like grappling hooks and sank its claws into his flesh. He could barely help but wince as the owner of the eyes moved away from her perch on the back of the couch, sidling around him without coming any nearer.

"I thought you said you had a fiancé," there was a harshness to her tone, a sharp edge that was hiding something else. Syed was sure of it. But the sharpness was all he could focus on; he immediately felt his defences begin to rise, all the openness that he had carefully cultivated on the journey from the salon withdrawing into himself.

"I do," Christian emerged from the kitchen, a tea towel in one hand as he dried a glass with a lot more force than was warranted. He stopped when his eyes met Syed's, the already wary look on his face becoming even more tense – torn somewhere between relief (the desire to leap forward and gather Syed thankfully into his arms) and an even deeper fear (the desire to dig himself a hole and curl up in it).

"You're serious?" the trespasser's eyes flicked from one man to the other; Syed couldn't shake the feeling that he was being scanned, itemised and categorised. "He's young enough for me to date him."

Christian coughed, his fingers clenching around the rim of the glass. Syed could see the veins bursting from the back of his knuckles, and he fought back the urge to sidestep the intruder and kiss the frown lines away from his forehead. But there was something blocking him. A shield stopping him from walking forward and providing the comfort his instincts were screaming at him to provide.

He couldn't work out whether it was girl now standing between them – or something else entirely.

Syed suddenly shook his head, clearing out the muddle of thoughts to focus on one question.

"Christian," he looked from the interloper to his partner, trying desperately to catch Christian's evasive gaze. "Who's this?"

"Oh," Christian flashed a smile that was far too forced. "This is Mara…"

"Athill," she took a step forward, the confident stride broken by the slight tremor that shook her momentarily as she grabbed Syed's hand: shaking it once and then dropping it like she'd been burnt. "Mara Athill."

"…she's…" Christian cast a quick glance in her direction. She returned it. Something passed between them Syed couldn't quite put his finger on. Suddenly, he felt a pang of jealousy creeping into his heart; it sliced into him without warning, catching him off guard in a way that he couldn't quite explain. He felt…excluded…from some kind of secret.

"…she's a relative," Christian broke the connection, his eyes flicking back to Syed. "She's in a bit of trouble. I said she could stay until she gets back on her feet."

And then he turned back into the kitchen, slamming the glass down onto the work surface and grabbing a knife to start on chopping the vegetables for dinner. Syed hovered by the door, twisting the keys around his fingers as he tried to make sense of the new situation that he now found himself in.

He cast a glance over at the trespasser – no, that wasn't it, her name was Mara – but she avoided his gaze, hopping over the back of the couch and drawing her knees up to her chin. She hadn't said anything, but the wall that had suddenly appeared around her might as well have been made of steel.

So Syed decided to focus his attention elsewhere; dropping his keys on the table, he slipped quickly (although he suddenly felt slightly self-conscious; like he was shedding protective layers) out of his jacket and moved hesitantly into the kitchen.

"What are you doing?" he whispered quietly, keeping his voice just below the level of the chop-chop-chop that rang through the flat.

"She needed my help."

"You don't know her, Christian," Syed licked his lips, casting a quick look over his shoulder. "She could be anyone."

"I told you," Christian gathered up a handful of peppers and dropped it into the sizzling pan. "She's a relative. Can we just drop it, please? She needs our help. End of."

"But Christian…"

"Sy, please," Christian turned to face him, a look somewhere between desperation and irritation clouding his features. "Just for one night. Then we can talk about it tomorrow."

It took barely a second for Syed to plaster a smile across his face, leaning forward and drawing Christian into the lightest of hugs.

"Okay," he rubbed his hand briefly along Christian's spine before pulling away. "We'll talk about it tomorrow."

As he headed for the bathroom, however, it began to dawn on him.

Tomorrow was usually one day too late.

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TBC...

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So, there we are. It only took us five chapters, but Christian, Syed and Mara are now sharing the same fictional canvas. Let all hell break lose from this moment forth...

Thank you so much for reading - if you can take the time to click the button below and leave a brief comment, I would be eternally grateful. If not, then I hope you enjoyed ad I hope you will keep reading as we wade deeper into the mire. Thak you!