Autor: Scar

Rating: M

Characters in order of appearance : Brendan Brady, Douglas Carter, Jim McGinn, Cheryl Brady, Ste Hay

Summary: This fic is divided in three parts and set in the future, after two years Brendan was arrested. Likely It's gonna be the last fic of the Exits series, for this reason I wanted it to call: Emergency exit. No worry, it's gonna be an happy ending. As usual, I want to say sorry for any mistakes. I'm a human being; in the first place an Italian human being, without beta-reader at the moment. *sobs*

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Emergency exit

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part 1

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Who could have predicted an end so sad?

Should I not shed hot tears of blood?

Sleep, my love, sleep tight.

Your moans are sad and deep as groans of death.

How can I resist?

How can I not cry if your voice comes straight into my heart?

Tears fall on my pain.

Sleep, my love, sleep tight.

[Kurdish song]

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The last time you saw someone from Hollyoaks was at the plea hearing.

You saw him in the audience with the corner of your eye, then you swiftly looked away from him and start staring at the judge all the time, but you felt Steven's eyes burn over you all the time, as if he asked you looked back in his direction. Still now you don't know how you didn't that. You left the court room without stealing another glance at him, because you felt it was the only way. He had to move on, despite you.

The last time you read the name of Steven was on all of the letters that arrived every week and you sent back without reading.

You know it was the only way. He had to hate and forget you. After a year, Steven stopped writing.

The last time your lips uttered 'Steven' was this morning.

You have been having very vivid dreams about him for two years by now. Every night you get the illusion that it is never over between you two; at the same time, you know you're losing sense of reality. Yet another year, you will lose it through-and-through, as soon as the image of Steven, flashing before your eyes, will become so concrete that you could talk with it for hours. Sooner or later someone will begin to notice that and you will end up in the mental health hospital, among people like you, before you know it.

The last time you saw someone from Hollyoaks it was about Steven.

Today, it is about someone you would never expect to see again. At first you didn't want to meet him; later, the prospect of getting any news about Steven, that assured yourself that he was serene at least, has taken the upper hand. Perhaps Doug is going to tell you that he's back with him and the two of them are now happier than ever. To be honest you would rather see him with everyone but him. However, you reasonably think that it's better this way, because in spite of everything, you know Doug is the safest choice and he wouldn't harm a hair on the Steven's head. Your Steven.

You curl your lip in an annoyed grimace and correct yourself: Steven isn't yours anymore.

And still you should stop imagining him the way you did last night: at first dancing gently on your hips, then more frantically until you cum in your hand like a teenager in the first hormones rush. Finally he cuddles against your body and warms you with the power of your memories, until the morning.

Douglas stares at you as you sit in front of him. You expected he threw his happiness against your face, but instead he doesn't look like someone who is walking on clouds for winning his man back. His eyes are sunken and dark-rimmed. He doesn't look at you like before, when the devil himself seemed to be in front of him, or as if he wanted to push a knife a little deeper in your wounds.

"Hello, Douglas" you begin, so to break the ice.

"Brendan" he answers simply.

You notice he stares at you too hard. You scratch your chin, covered with a thick beard, and need something random to say to ease this discomfort.

"It suits me, isn't it? "

"Honestly?" he replies in a sharp tone. "I don't give a damn."

Well - you think, as you straighten up on the chair and tighten your lips - fortunately, this conversation isn't going to be a celebration of hypocrisy.

"To what do I owe the pleasure, Douglas?" you ask in a detached manner.

"I wanna talk to you about Ste."

The corner of your lips twitches nervously.

"Of course" you say sharply. "Well, if you're gonna tell me how truly you love each other and happily together you are, your trip was useless because I already know it."

You decide to end that conversation quickly and get up all of a sudden, but Douglas stops you, grabbing your wrist. You are surprise because of his gesture rather than its weak force.

"Me and Ste... are not together," he hisses softly. "And you should to listen to me. Now ".

You take a breath and sit back.

"Tell me."

"Ste's not fine"

"He's sick?" you ask in a alarmed tone.

He nods. "At first inside of him, lately... he's unrecognizable even from outside."

"What's wrong with him?"

"What's wrong?" He repeats, popping a nervous laugh. "Alcohol, drugs, one-night stands ... God, I doubt he has been using a protection every time. May I go on? "

You remain silent and your eyes start burning.

"He was no longer able to take care of his old apartment and so I asked him to move in with me. Thank God, he accepted. "

"Great! So you've set the stage, Douglas, have ye?" you're trying to seem ironic, but the lump in your throat is so tight that seems choke you.

"You don't understand, do you?" He replies, shaking his head in exasperation. "It was a good thing, because three days ago, I came back home early because I had forgotten my phone and I found him deeply asleep. Pills and alcohol, Brendan. He's been saved just in time. "

Your heart leaps in your chest, painfully. "What happened to him?"

"Do I need to make myself clearer ? He tried to kill himself. Now he's out of danger. He's still in hospital, but he'll come back home tomorrow and ... to be frank ... I don't know if he'll going to be so lucky... the next time. "

You rub your face and only now you realize it is soaked with tears. You take a deep and wet breath. "He needs help. Search for the best doctor... I've some money saved up and-"

"Christ, Brendan!" he interrupts you, slamming his palm on the table that separates you two. Half of people turn towards you and start watching. "Ste doesn't need money... he needs you! "

Your sneer appears soon after. "Do you reckon it's a good thing for him... coming here... I mean? In here? Seriously?"

"Could you be the one to visit him."

You shake your head, sighing. "Have you looked well around, Douglas? This is not exactly a spa. I've to stay locked up for 15 years . "

"Your lawyer was very good" he says with contempt. "If it were up to me you should stay locked up for life".

"Thanks for the thought, Douglas."

"You're welcome".

The following silence seems to weigh as much as a mountain on your shoulders and the thought of Steven, out there, who's consuming himself a bit at a time, lets drop a plaque on your heart. And you can't do anything to lift it.

"I know you didn't kill your father."

Douglas' statement adds another burden.

"Who says so?"

"You have no idea how talkative Ste becomes after a couple of drinks."

"What did he say?"

"Everything"

Your expression freezes on your face and a painful coldness invades your muscles.

Douglas confirms. "He told me everything. Please, don't blame him. Likely, he doesn't even remember about it. "

You pinch your nose, snorting heavily. This shouldn't have happened.

"What are you gonna do?" he asks you, his eyes wide open, as an owl that is looking for his prey in the darkness.

"What should I do?"

"I think you should ask for an appeal. I reckon you'd be out of here in less than a month, free like a bird."

"I can't do it."

"Why?"

"I have to take care of my family?"

"And Ste?"

Of course, you care about him as well, every day, actually since you met his gaze for the first time. He is inside of you every holy moment of the day. But you cannot do anything to solve the problem, just as you cannot do anything to stop thinking of him.

You shake your head in denial.

"I see," replies Douglas, and his tone sounds like the blade of a verdict. "If he asks again, I'll know what answering then."

"What?"

"That you don't give a shit about him."

You jump up from the chair and instinctively grab Douglas by the collar of his jacket.

Old habits die hard.

Luckily, you take your hands off of him instantly, before the surveillance notice it. You plop down on the chair like a dead weight, your face buried in your hands.

When you open your eyes and look up, Douglas has already gone.