Autor: Scar
Editor/Beta-reader: None. Ouch! Hannival Kinney left for a trip school and I hope there aren't too many mistakes; I'm terrible with English grammar. I hope you'll appreciate my effort anyway and so... please review (just to tell me it sucks)
Characters: Simon Walker, Ste Hay, Brendan Brady, Doug Carter
Genre: drama, dark content, angst
Summary: Walker plots his last move and it's gonna be... explosive.
Warning: multi-POV; death of a main character.
I wrote this fic after Amy took the kids away from Ste, and it was basically turning into a bloody carnage. In the end, I couldn't do it. So, if you love a happy ending, keep reading.
This fic is an AU by now, my last one maybe.
No.3
.
.
xHOx
.
.
Oh, my love,
young emblem
I return to the brown ground,
wide open in a rocky day,
I admire the wake of light
(At the foot of a cliff, on the impetuous and
sumptuous water of fatal caves)
for the last time,
troubled as a plaintive dove,
over dreamy grass.
Oh, my Love,
shining health
The coming years grind on me.
After leaving the faithful stick,
I'll glide into the dark
without regret.
Oh, Death, arid river ...
Oblivious sister, death,
You'll make me dream, as he used to,
with a kiss.
I'll get your pace,
I'll go without a trace.
You will give me the motionless heart
of a god
I shall be innocent,
I'll have neither thoughts nor goodness.
With my walled mind ,
With my eyes, fallen into oblivion,
I'm making way for happiness.
.
.
Today is the day.
Nothing can go wrong this time. You have arranged everything to perfection.
For six months, you have been hiding in the shadows of the hell you fell in because of your revenge, because of a man who killed your hope and the promise of looking after your brother, failing miserably. And you have been failing, too many times and too long, in an attempt to take Brady down, although you have always wanted it so badly, and you still want it.
But today you are not going to fail, because you have so much hate in you that it has given you additional eyes and hands, big lungs for running better, but taking up your chest from the remaining piece of your sick heart. Now you don't hear it beating faster – although you should - because you stopped listening to it ages ago.
You look in the mirror. Your face is tired, gray, unhealthy. You don't recognise the man in front of you, because all that you are seeing is only the shell of a man who doesn't even exist anymore.
You grin anyway, because this convinces you that no one else can do it.
Your jacket has large pockets with everything you need. You take a deep breath and keep smiling.
But something starts shaking just under your skin. Because today is the day.
The day Simon Walker is going to die.
...
...
One step at the time.
Even if things aren't perfect in your life, there are lots of reasons to feel good. Brendan supports you, sleeps at your side, but more important he makes feel loved and wanted, less alone. Everything he does helps you to do better day after day.
Sometimes, sadness takes over, but when you fall asleep and exhausted onto Brendan's chest, you stop thinking about it. Then, in the morning, you try to convince yourself that Amy had decided to take the kids away from you long before that you guys ended up living together like a proper family. Nothing would have changed anyway.
You start cleaning up some of the mess in the living-room, as your phone suddenly rings and, even if the number is unknown, your heart bounces, because you hope Leah's and Lucas' voices are on the other side of the phone, not of the world. They aren't, unfortunately.
At the first you don't catch the man's voice, his exact words; later, the way he greets you, spelling your name in a Brendan's ghastly imitation, clarifies everything.
"Hallo, Stephen!"
"Wa... Walker?"
"Yeah... it's me. How are you?"
You don't say a word, but your head starts smoking between the thought to call the police and temptation of hanging up on him.
"What do you want?" you say, but the effort makes your hand sweat and your legs shake.
"Come on, Stephen! It looks like you aren't happy to hear me. You know how sad that makes me, don't you? I've been waiting for this moment for a lifetime. So... I'd be very... very glad if you could join me... I mean... right now".
You stay silent for a while. Does he really think you're that stupid?
"I don't think so".
"Do you? You're breaking my heart... right, Brendan?"
At the first, you don't get it right; then, suddenly, you can clearly hear Brendan's voice on the phone, just your name in a desperate tone that makes you shudder.
Your lips get frozen around your words. "Brendan ... what's happened to him?"
"Oh, you disappoint me, Stephen. Nothing, for now. So... do you want us to give the pleasure of your company?"
"Where are you?" The words fall from your lips too soon for you to stop.
"At Chez Chez's, darling. Please don't make me wait too long! I'm pulling a couple of beers out of the fridge."
He giggles.
"Ah, Stephen! If I were you I wouldn't call the police. I feel like if Brendan's gonna be very sad".
Then he hangs up.
Your heart starts hammering in your chest as it happened a few times in your life. For example, when you thought Brendan could die from the explosion last September, or when you genuinely thought you were going to die, and Brendan threw himself on top of you, risking to take a bullet in your place.
You put your phone away in the pocket of your jeans, grab the keys and finally go out.
Tonight is a pretty warm night, and some people have taken the opportunity for a walk. Someone greets you, but you don't answer back. You haven't even seen who they were.
Brendan was supposed to meet Cheryl at the Dog's and you have promised to join them around eight, because you wanted to take a shower and make yourself presentable in the first place.
You wonder if Walker has kidnapped Cheryl, too. And then, what's he planning on doing next? To kill all of you?
You are close to tears, but as soon as you are near the club you hold back the tears. You aren't going to give him that satisfaction.
And finally you can see him, with his back against the counter and a glass of whiskey in his hand. "Hello, Ste!" he says, raising the glass in your direction.
Your feet are glued to the floor. "Where's Brendan?" you ask.
He puts his glass on the counter with nerve-racking slowness, then he walks up to you and grabs your hand so tightly that you think he is going to break many of your bones. He smiles and his teeth shine like phosphorescent blades in the green light of the room; then he puts the phone to your ear.
"Steven! Steven! For God's sake, wait!"
It's Brendan's voice. You can even remember when he said that, a few days ago. You was running away from him because of a senseless fight, you can't even remember the reason why you did it. There are always some really good reasons for giving it up, actually, and only big one for working it out. At these moments, sex is always better, frenetic, animal, desperate. You know very well how shut your minds off and, for a few hours, the only things that you guys can hear are filthy words, your 'more', 'harder', 'fucking hell' and cries of pleasure at the end of it all.
But, right now, you can only think about how stupid you are.
Now there's no stopping your horror. You're going to die and nobody can help you.
"Come with me!" he tells you in oily tone. "Brendan's office is more discrete, isn't it?"
Not that you can make some choices. He's strong enough to drag you and push you where he wants; also the knife he puts between your shoulder blades is another reason not to make any of them.
He pushes you through the doorway abruptly, making you stumble and bump against the shelf in front of you. In the meantime, he locked the door from the inside and, still unsatisfied, he slides the lock; then he starts looking at you as if he wanted to choose the best target of your body to hit. He stretches out his hand to you instead.
"Give me your phone."
You shake your head while dread runs behind your back, cold and horrible.
"No... Walker ... please. Not this. Please".
He jumps on you and you try to push him away. He slaps you and your face loses its sensitivity for long seconds.
"Don't touch me again!" he warns, pointing his finger on your face.
He unbuttons his jacket and shows at you its lining, covered with some stuff that looks like explosive. "You wouldn't like my little friends to blow up for joy now. Trust me."
You stop breathing. Walker is completely insane. Maybe you've seen too many action movies and hope it's just a nightmare.
"That's right, sweet Stephen. A single motion and... boooom. And now ... give me the phone!"
You aren't able to move as he takes your phone and all your willpower away.
"You'll die, too" you sigh.
"Oh, Brendan didn't tell you, did he? I'm already dead, and you guys are gonna follow me soon."
Your head is a shapeless and painful mess of thoughts, but you can do one thing before he texts Brendan and Brendan rushes to you. With a lovely imagine of him and your kids in your head, you fly at Walker, trying to take your phone back, and if you're going to blow up with him, so much the better. Brendan will understand that you did it for him.
Walker punches you again, pushing you onto the couch.
Your mouth is bleeding, and while you try to wipe away the blood, a bitter laugh climbs through your throat.
"I know why you're doing this" you say. "It's not about Brendan. It's about you. You hate yourself because you weren't able to look after your brother. It's your fault, not Brendan's".
"Nice try" he replays while he's texting a message, ignoring you.
"It's the truth and you know it" you add.
"Has anyone ever told you that you talk too much?"
You nod. "Yeah! And he knows how shush me every time".
"Disgusting"
"Exciting" you answer back, even if just the thought makes you feel a pang in your chest.
You make another try to take the phone away from him and this time you get it. Then you throw it against the wall, breaking it into dozens of small pieces, but your triumphant look falls instantly.
"Too late, dear Stephen. He's coming."
Your mouth bursts in a wild and desperate scream and your hands are around his neck at the same time. He hits you again and, immediately, all that you can see is a black oblivion.
When you recover your senses, you are seated and bound on a chair.
...
...
Join me at the Club. A great surprise for you!
You frown as you read Steven's text. Then you look at your sister at your side.
"What's up?" she ask.
"Nothing" You answer, awkward. "I should check something in the club and-"
"Come on, Brendan! You think I'm stupid, don't you?".
No, you don't think your sister is stupid at all, especially since the club is closed since a couple of mice ruined a party a few days ago. A weird thing, actually, but you and Steven had a whole night to yourselves at least.
"I know that face" she says again. "I'm just envious of you guys. Go! I'll find something else tonight... or someone."
You can see her looking for over your shoulder. A handsome lad is sitting alone, raising a pint towards her, and so you feel less guilty. Bottling up inside you your overprotective feelings for her, you kiss her on the cheek.
"Sorry, Chez. I love ye" you whisper and finally you leave in a hurry.
Your steps are overexcited. Steven's surprises usually turn your brain into a little mush, and all that you can think is his legs tightly wrapped around your neck and your cock pushing inside of him, deeper and harder. You are on seventh heaven and think that the last dark veil between you two is definitely torn apart. Since Leah and Lucas have left you've been thinking that unhappiness would have led your lives between crap sex and long faces, and that was inevitable, because you know how though it can be, not to see his own kids, become little more than a stranger for them.
As you enter the club you hope to find good music and Steven, lying on the counter, only dressed with a smile of his that make your heart dribble between your stomach and throat every single time. Silence is total, instead, and the counter is uncluttered except an empty glass. You stare the office's door and sneer happy. You rush to open the door, but it is locked.
"Steven! It's me. Open up!"
"Brendan!" you hear him shout. "He's crazy. Run away!"
At first you can't understand what's happening, but then you hear a voice that you had hoped not to hear for the rest of your life, and instantly feel your heart freeze.
"Hallo, Brendan!"
Soon after, your phone rings with a request for a video calling. As soon as you can see his hateful and pinched face, the blood seems to explode in your head, but as soon as Steven's face is on your display - blood on his lips, tears in his eyes - you are about to die.
Then Steven's face disappears and Walker's bloody grin comes back.
You look like you had suddenly lost the power of speech. So you take a deep breath and swallow your tears.
"What do you want, Simon?" you ask, disposed to negotiate anything; even your own balls, served on a silver platter, if it was necessary.
"Talking" he answers.
You wonder where he is going with all this. Are you terrified but, for a few seconds, you feel relieved because you still have time to hatch out a plan .
"I'd like to know what level your relationship is on. Call it... a whim"
"What do you really want, Simon?" you ask, trying to sound as calm as possible.
"Nothing from you, now" he replies. "Ste! Has Brendan ever tell you he chopped up a man? I mean literally. A corpse, to be more precise".
You can see Steven's face on the display again. His eyes are fixed on you and seem lightly incredulous, while you was waiting for horror and disgust.
"I'm sure about it because I put him out of his misery myself." Walker continues to say. "Funny, isn't it? Brendan had thought Joel had killed that man, but he was still alive, instead. I had to choke him and then I called police, but Brendan put all of us in the bag. He brought him in an desert place and then ... wham! Net shots. Cheryl told me. He did it to protect Joel. Right, Brendan? Has he ever done something so cute for you, Stephen?"
Steven doesn't answer, his eyes seem to dig down deep inside of you. He knows what you did for him, and what would you do again. Yes, you would.
"And you know why?" Walker continues. "I mean... why couldn't we take him down? Because he didn't trust me. Can you guess what I did then?"
You see Steven shaking his head slowly, and all that you want to do is breaking through that door, holding him tight, and smashing Walker for good.
"I did it... with him. It's incredible, isn't it? And I'm not even gay. It took me days to take his smell off. But... I thought it was useful somehow, I really did. Especially when he told me something he had never told anyone. Not even to you."
"Walker!" you shout out.
You want to stop it, but you can't. With your eyes fixed on the display, you rush to downstairs, towards the cellar, while Walker keeps talking to Steven and Steven's eyes drill down through your heart. You grab the crowbar and get back quickly, as Walker's laughter continues to drill through your ears.
"Brendan! Where have you been?"
"None of your business" you growl.
"This is such a pity! I'm telling your Stephen what we shared on the beach that day"
"Shut up!" you yell and simultaneously give a first blow at the door with the crowbar.
"Stop it, Brendan!" Walker's voice ends pretending to be friendly. "Stop it! If you don't want I slit Stephen's throat right now".
You drop the tool on the floor and your chest sobs as soon as Walker shows Steven's neck dangerously close to the blade of a knife.
"Simon" you sigh. "It's me what you want. He did nothing to you. He's got two kids. They don't deserve to lose their dad."
You hear him giggling. You knew your try was useless.
"But his kids left weeks ago. And Amy don't want to have nothing to do with their dad anymore. Because of you. Oh, you're thinking right, Brendan. It was me. But... speaking of kids. I met your father a while ago. Lovely person, you couldn't say he's a pedophile".
Steven's eyes wide open. You didn't want him to know this way.
"You're dying, Simon!"
"Yeah! I know... I know" replays Walker.
"Brendan? Is it true?" asks Steven shaking.
You feel your heart crumpling in a tin-foil ball. How many times you were about to tell him the dirtiest little secret of yours, but you were too shamed and...
"Sorry, Steven. I've tried to tell you, but I was scared."
"A father who abuses his own son could scare anyone" Walker mocks you. He Knows very well how hard he can hit you.
"Brendan..." Steven's voice is a little more than a whisper and his tears take your breath away.
He don't ask you if it's true, again. He knows.
Walker laughs and you grab the crowbar from the floor. The first shot on the door, you think, the next one for him. You're about to knock the door down as Steven speaks again and your hand shudders.
"I love you, Brendan".
And his eyes stare at you, imploring.
"I love you, Steven" you croak.
A moment later you let out a wild scream of anger and hit the door, trying to break the lock. Then you finally burst inside the room. You can just see Walker's knife darting towards you and a then his head cracking under your blows. Steven's screams reach you muffled and, at first, you think you are going to faint. You grit your teeth and pull the knife out of your body. The blood gushes out of your wound and drenches your clothes. You rush to Steven and untie him.
"Are you fine?" you ask.
He looks at you with an horrified expression. So you hug him, kissing his face for reassuring him and at the same time you reassure yourself that he is still alive.
"Come on! Let's go out of here!" you say, but after the first step, your legs fail and you vision blurs. You try again, but you feel like you are walking through mud and your breathing is getting weaker.
"You need to go to the hospital. Let me call for a help!" cries Steven.
You shake your head. "We need to go out of here".
Saying that, you are well-aware that even standing on your own is getting harder.
Steven holds you up while you wish to flop down.
"Go ahead, Steven! I'll wait here".
"No way! I'm not leaving you".
You always know that Steven is the most stubborn bloke you have ever met, but this is one of many reasons you fell in love with him.
He help you to seat on the floor with your back against the counter. You would like to say something, but your throat is dry and a sudden feeling of coldness floods your muscles.
He kisses your forehead, then go in the office again, kneels down next to Walker and picks up his phone.
Later, all that you can see is absolute horror.
He is still alive.
Despite the rage of your blows, Walker is not dead. He turns his shattered head, opens his blood-soaked eyes, raises his fucking hand and grabs Steven's foot, making him fall down.
And you can't do anything.
You lie motionless on the floor, looking at Steven who fights for his life and yours. You hear them yelling, swearing and, finally, Steven can pick up the near crowbar and smash Walker's head for good.
Your boy is a winner and you have always known this. Steven runs to you and turn white in front of your paleness. You feel his arms wrap around your shoulders; you can feel his body trembling against your heart, you can feel his heat, his strength.
Suddenly, the world around you two explodes into lights and flames, smoke and rubble.
Blood everywhere.
You instantly feel a nauseating smell of burning flesh but even more devastating it's the lack of Steven's breath against your lips, his pulse against your chest. He fell down on your body, as if he wanted you to protect. You start crying and praying and, in the meantime, stroke his face.
Your breathing is leaving you, but not quickly as Steven did, and you still have time for one single last prayer.
"God, please... let me die. Please..."
...
...
The last time your glance fell on the Chez-Chez, you saw Ste enter the club. Now you can see smoke coming out of the windows and hear the alarm screaming loud in the square. Someone has already called for a help. Fire, police, ambulance.
There was an explosion and you reckon Ste is still in the club. You aren't able to move your feet because of shock and, looking back for a moment, you think that you've experienced this too many times in your life.
You see people crowding in the space under the club and the police trying to push them away. Then, suddenly, your feet come unstuck from the floor and so you can run towards the Chez-Chez.
A policeman pushes you away.
"My partner", you cry. "Ste Hay, is in there, maybe. I need to know. Please".
The man looks at you sympathetic. You take advantage of his indecision and rush through the front door, but after you entered, one of the firefighter tells you that the stairs could be unsure, and so you stop while your shoes drench with the water that put out the fire; later, you can hear a voice from upstairs.
"Three men. Dead."
You cover your mouth with your hand; your breathing is frantic in your chest, holding back your need of crying.
"No... wait! One of them is still alive. A stretcher! NOW!"
Again.
However you are closer to him now than before, when you were married. Your devastating wedding.
A bad beginning. The worst ending.
And now, you find yourself to hold his hand in the ambulance that runs in the night, after you told the paramedic that you was his husband.
You have never been really religious, but now you hear yourself whispering a prayer of which you barely remember the words.
Ste is emaciated, broken, but strong enough to open his eyes and look at you.
"Brendan..." he croaks. "Where is Brendan?"
You're struggling to keep yourself strong in front of him, for him, but he knows you pretty well and find the answer straight in your eyes.
You think he is going to cry out. He ask you to get closer to him, instead.
"Rem... remember your promise... Doug".
You shake your head. You can't do it.
"Promise me... please"
Almost immediately his eyes roll in his head and the medical device starts bleeping. A paramedic pushes you away, checking Ste's pulse, then shout at the driver to go as quickly as possible.
After arrival in the hospital you can only wait, so you call Leanne and tell her what happened, but she already knew. News travels quickly in Hollyoaks. You ask about Cheryl, but she answers she didn't see her.
Then you hang on and then you bump into the nurse who took care of Ste while he was in a coma, months ago. She is kind and remembers of you and Ste, so she promises to bring you some news. She's back to you almost immediately. Ste's conditions are very serious. He suffers internal injuries and the doctors don't have many hopes. Perhaps his spine is broken and his right leg is crushed, they should amputate it. You start crying like a child because you know, you know that Ste doesn't want to be saved. You know this and, without Brendan in his life, he would even less. They are getting ready for the surgery. But he is unconscious. He can't choose. You promised to do this for him, even if you thought this day would never come, even if you're not ready to let him go. Not this way. Not now. Not ever.
You show the doctors the legal papers that you still keep in your wallet as if your story with Ste wasn't finished that day, when he had chosen and you too. You clear your throat.
"I'm Ste's husband and he appointed me to make decisions in his place if he hadn't been able to".
This is the most painful and bravest decision of all your life.
While the nurse is taking the oxygen off and starts to disconnect the wires, you remain standing next to Ste, holding his hand until it will become weaker and colder.
...
...
You blink once, twice and again, then you are dazzled by the cold and shining whiteness in front of you. Only a few seconds later you realize you aren't dead, because you feel like the pain is killing you. Your body is on fire, and as you try to open your mouth and say a word, your throat feel like it had been scratched with sandpaper. Someone rushes at your side, but you aren't able to make a motion.
You can hear his voice, though.
"Ste! Oh, my..."
His squeal pierces your head from side to side.
"NURSE! NURSE!"
You start thinking all this is a nightmare, that you're dreaming about all that you have already lived and you wonder if dead people can dream. Maybe you aren't dead dead, but more like not dead yet and, so, you have to make amends for all your sins in a place very similar to a hospital room, with a pain equal to a real one and where Doug's screams are a free gift by Purgatory.
However, you didn't believe this when you was in health and pretty happy, not even now that angels have got doctors' and nurses' faces.
After they have finished with you, there is a pain, the most terrible you have ever felt, in the middle of your chest, that takes your breath away.
Doug takes seat at your side onto the bed and starts looking at you with such a bright smile that you would like to remove from his mouth along with all of his teeth, if you could only raise your arms.
He starts talking about the whole story and tells you how lucky you were.
You can't even smile wryly.
"Lucky?"
"Yeah", he replays with a puzzled frown. "The doctors saved your leg and there is nothing seriously wrong with your spin. You have got more screws in your body than the whole Brooklyn Bridge, though. They removed a kidney of yours, but they say you can live well without it".
"How long have I been here?"
"For a while... I mean... you've been out about five days"
"Why?" you ask weakly.
"God, Ste! You was in a coma. You were almost dea-" he cries.
"I'm still alive, Doug. Why?"
He doesn't say a word, but looks at you with tears in his eyes. You start weeping, too, but for a different reason. You knew he had no balls to let you die, after all, but you can't forgive him, because you are still alive, whereas Brendan...
"NO!" you shout with all your breath, trying to reach the wires you are tied to.
"Stop it!" he cries out, holding your hands tight. "He's alive!"
You gasp. "What?"
"Yeah. Brendan's alive. His conditions were extremely serious when he was admitted. Everyone thought he was dead at first, but he's fine now".
"You're lying" you hiss.
"I'm not!"
"You're lying."
"He's not!"
Your eyes run to the door and Brendan is standing in front of you. Pale face, slimmed down, but alive.
He limps towards you. You can hear him panting and moaning.
Then he takes your hand and you can feel all his strength and heat and, finally, you know all of this is true.
...
...
"Mr. Brady! What are you doing here?"
You reluctantly pull your lips away from Steven's ones; the nurse looks at you with a dour expression. After days of transfusions and antibiotics, you were sure you could get away with her, this time at least. You try to show her the most pleading and convincing look of yours, but this doesn't work. It never has. You can say everything about you, except you're a soft puppy, and so, after you kissed the man of your life once again, you go out in the corridor, pretending to walk back to your room, whereas you remain next the door of Steven's room. Douglas is with you and, for the first time, you are embarrassed in front of him. You don't know well if you should get jealous because he stayed with Steven all the time you couldn't, or thank him for immediately informing you when Steven had woken up, after days he had been struggling for his life. Words don't come easy to you when it is a matter of feelings, but for some murky reason, they now sound so right.
"Thank you, Douglas."
He looks at you, smiling a bit, then he looks down as if his shoes were the most interesting thing in the world.
"Thank you" you continue to say, "for everything. If it wasn't for you..."
You aren't capable to talk on; the thought that Steven could be dead because of you freezes the blood in your veins and the rest of the words onto your tongue. If Douglas hadn't been so scared to put an end to Steven's life, yours would be ended at the same moment, and you wouldn't have no one to blame but yourself.
You bend your head down and close your eyes, trying to hold back your tears, but it is bloody hard. You were going to lose him for good.
Suddenly you feel Douglas' breath a little bit closer to you. You don't dare to look up.
"Ste was going to die because of you-"
"I know" you sniff.
"I haven't finished yet!" he says sternly. "He could be dead at this moment... because... Ste would give away his life a million times for you. This doesn't make me happy, 'course. But... at least I know you would do the same for him. I've never seen anyone like the two of you, more attached to each other than to their own life."
At this point, you look up and stare at him, puzzled. You wryly think you have been waiting for a lesson like this for ages, and in fact...
"So, Brendan, please... don't fuck it all up as usual!"
...
...
Epilogue
.
.
The hot bed is suffocating you, so you decide to get up earlier than usual and prepare your breakfast. You walk towards the kitchen on tiptoe so as not to wake anyone. Last night they argued again about the new holiday destination.
They can be so childish that you would like to slap them. Luckily then they locked in the bedroom for keeping the discussion on. Growing up you have learnt their fights last a blink and always end up behind a locked door and not surely for playing or fighting. Sometimes you laugh inside at the thought about that morning when you entered their room and saw... well... at that time you didn't understand right and ran away, terrified.
Let's face it: walking in your parents who are having sex is not the nicest thing in the world.
Sometimes, if instead it happen to you of thinking about it, right in front of them, you turn red and suddenly need to hide. However, this has not prevented you to stamp your feet with your mother and convince her to send you and your brother to spend a little time with your dads. This took months of battle but, now, you're with Lucas in their home in Dublin to spend the summer holidays with them, as you did the past six years.
When you hear them walking in the kitchen, you are afraid you disturbed them, instead they greet you, smiling and happy. Brendan's arms are wrapped around your father's waist, and their gait is awkward and ridiculous, as if they were a only body with two arms and four legs.
"Ohi!" you exclaim, trying to make a stern face. "There are children in this house."
Brendan clears his throat, but his 'sorry' still sounds hoarse. Your father rushes to heat some coffee, while Brendan grabs some cereals. Your cereals.
"So ... where are we going this time?" you ask innocently.
"Switzerland" answers your father firmly, as Brendan stares at him, frowning.
"We decided for Spain." he replies.
"Not at all," objects your father. "If you well remember I won, so we're spending the summer in the mountains. Fresh air, warm clothes."
"You remember wrong". Protests the other one . "We were agreed on sun, sea and mojitos".
"I don't remember this"
"Yeah!" says Brendan emphatically, raising three of his fingers before Steven's eyes. "After the third round".
You father turns scarlet.
"It's summer" adds Brendan. "Everybody suppose to go to the sea in summer ."
"I hate the sea" resumes your father. "Too uncovered people."
"Exactly!"
You sigh in exasperation. It's the same old story, every time.
"Yeah! Because you can't wait to feast your eyes on dozen guys in thong".
"It's stupid."
"Don't call me stupid!"
"I didn't say you're stupid. I said what you said is stupid."
You would want to bang your head against the table. You and Lucas prefer the sea, of course, but you know why your father hates it. Because since the 'accident', seven years ago, he is covered of scars and his left leg is not in good condition, and when he is excessively nervous, he limps more than usual. Daddy Brendan tells him that he is beautiful and show him his own scar on the left side, because his spleen was removed after the same 'accident'.
"I'm sick of all this!" blurts out you father; later, limping, walk away towards the bedroom.
"Oh, come on, Steven!"
Brendan go after him, letting the breakfast untouched on the table, the door locked again.
Same old, same old.
You wonder if your family is normal, and your eyes for change fall on the photo at your side. You, Lucas and your dads, Disneyland 2016, a hug smile that could fill the whole house. Your family isn't normal, you know that, but just this make you the most lucky girl on earth.