A/N:
Thank you so much to everyone, welcome to all our newbies and big waves to all those who are de-lurking!
We're glad you've all enjoyed the Brady-Hay family, we really enjoyed writing them :D
That said we're also really glad that 99.9% of you have asked for angst! We hope we can satisfy your appetites – the darkness is looming! We are both very excited, if a little afraid of all your responses – just remember if you kill us there won't be anybody who can make it all alright again ;)
Chapter Warning:
The angst is nigh.
Chapter Twelve – Brendan Brady.
Steven is an incredible cook. Although he won't ever take the compliment. It's taken him less than three hours to prepare this entire meal, including a perfect crème brulee. He brushes it off like it's nothing. I think he should own his own business one day. Maybe a small café, or delicatessen, a place where I can go, keep an eye on him and eat a lot of jam sandwiches – seedless of course. Cos even his sandwiches are a masterpiece.
The meal goes really well, Tony seems like a nice guy if a bit soft. Probably why he didn't realise what was happening to Steven. I know how impossible it is to believe a member of your family could do something like that, you know?
Steven sits next to his uncle. I sit in between the kids – help Lucas with chopping up his food and Steven keeps catching my eye - smiling like that.
"Mr Brady!" Leah tugs on the sleeve of my shirt. "Can you cut my food up too please?"
"Haha! Mr Brady likes me better! He cut up my food and not yours!" Lucas jeers her.
"No he doesn't! He likes me better don't you Mr Brady?" Leah says hopefully looking up at me all innocent, fluttering her eyelashes.
"Oi, you two" Steven interrupts before I can say anything. "Mr Brady likes ya both the same, right. Lucas, stop teasing ya sister and eat. Leah, the only reason Mr Brady didn't cut up ya food is coz he thought you were able to do it by yaself, ok?"
She nods enthusiastically, crosses her arms and looks smugly at Lucas as though she has got one over him this time. Lucas is now scowling back at her.
Suddenly out the corner of my eye I see a pea flying across my face as Lucas flicks it with his fork at his sister. Leah giggles as it lands on her plate. I look over at Steven and Tony who haven't noticed. Leah picks the pea up and flicks it back to Lucas. It hits him on the nose and lands on the table next to his plate. They both start giggling.
Steven and Tony look over at the giggling twins.
"What's so funny you too, ey?" Steven asks.
"Nothing Ste." they answer in unison.
Steven shakes his head and turns back to Tony. As he does, Leah and Lucas start subtly throwing peas at each other across me. One lands on my lap. The twins both stop immediately and gasp then look up at me apprehensively as though they are going to be in trouble. I keep my reaction unclear and slowly pick the pea up off my plate, hold it up and look at it. I turn and smile at them then nod towards Steven. They both nod their heads enthusiastically and giggle.
I flick the pea hard at Steven and it lands on the side of his head then falls to the floor.
"Ey, that the hell was that?!" he exclaims rubbing the side of head and looking to the floor. He sees the pea and looks up at us.
"Right, which one of you lot did that?!" he asks.
Me, Leah and Lucas all look at him shaking our heads.
"Weren't me!" says Lucas
"It wasn't me neither, I wouldn't throw my food." Leah smiles.
"And it certainly wasn't me, Steven." I say trying to keep a straight face but feeling myself smirking slightly.
As he looks me questioningly his mouth turns into a big grin, laughter dancing behind his eyes and he knows it was me.
We share this secret communication over the table, I feel a foot rub at my ankle and I just know from the way my skin sparks that it's him. I can still taste him from earlier, see the way his eyes flashed and opened, he truly opened for me. He turns back to his uncle, and I'm placed right back into reality again. I take a drink of the whiskey to cover up the sting - I have to keep reminding myself what this meal is about, we can have as much fun as we like but there's only one purpose to this whole thing.
This is goodbye.
***K&M***
Steven takes the kids to bed and it gives me and Tony a chance to chat shop. His face blanches and he shakes as I recounted what Steven told me – all of it.
It's clear Tony didn't know a thing. I give him a moment, and some of my finest - the whiskey calms his stress so I say, "You seem like a decent man Tony, you and I both know those three kids can't be separated."
He nods quickly, still recovering.
"So I reckon you could take care of them all can't you?"
"Erm…But Pauline-"
"You're gonna get them away from here, get a manager for that restaurant of yours, take them away and give them the childhood they deserve. Steven needs to be a teenage boy, not a carer for the twins, or a – a slave," or the fuck-toy of a middle aged gangster. "He needs to get out and see the world and you can make that happen can't you?"
"You just expect me to leave Chester? At Christmas? My friends, my family-"
"Your family – your family that lets this happen to your nephew? That could have let it happen to those precious twins. I think they're your family now: Steven, Leah and Lucas – you know you need to take them away from here."
He nods like he understands, but his face is still in shadow and I feel for this man I really do – it must be hard to be the one stood back watching, but he has to be strong for Steven now. He has to be strong instead of Steven. Out of nowhere an image of the three kids huddled under that blanket in the shelter shivers through me – and I feel my heart drop the way it did when Steven collapsed to the floor that afternoon. I shake it back, tonight's dinner, now is my only role – the only thing I can do for Steven, I have to make it count.
"Erm...yeah," Tony says. "Erm there is a place, away from here, Southport, we could go there, but this sort of thing – what you're suggesting, erm…it takes erm cash."
"I have cash."
His eyes catch mine and there's this expression, I'm not sure what it means or what he's trying to say but it's not exactly close to what I was expecting. It's gone in a flash, disappeared into another empty whisky glass. And then he's looking at me with gratitude, knowing I'm saving his family.
"How much do you need?"
"Erm…I dunno, I mean we'd need to find a house, get some food, employ a manager, and you know my restaurant doesn't make a great turnover." He's rambling, but I've already thought this all through – I know how much I can get my hands on in short notice.
"Eighty grand?"
There's that look again.
"Yeah," Tony coughs. "Yeah eighty grand would be good, would see us through you know until I can get a job."
"I'll give Steven a suitcase of the cash tomorrow, get him to the train station, and then you get them out of this city – tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?"
"That's my deal – you take Steven, the twins and the eighty grand tomorrow, or I'll go to the police – tell them everything."
Tony nods, "OK, OK yeah we can make that happen."
We firm up the details, decide on the train and I tell him my chauffeur will drop the kids off at 10.30. I take him to the door. Steven gets down just in time.
As he gives his uncle a hug goodnight Tony says, "I'll see you and the twins at the train station tomorrow."
"Eh?" Steven asks, excited to see his uncle again so soon.
Tony turns to me and says, "thanks again Brendan, erm don't forget the money yeah? Sorry we just can't really do it you know erm without the money."
"What money? What's going on?"
There's a dark cloud of confusion growing in Steven's eyes. And, as Tony tells him what's happening, his entire face grows black, he won't stop staring at me like – like his world is ending.
***K&M***
Tony leaves when Steven's still pale and shaking. I get him a glass of water, sit him down and go to the safe for the money from my last deal. He doesn't say anything until I place the full suitcase opposite him. He doesn't say a lot of sense even then. He gets more and more agitated. He gets up and starts pacing round the kitchen. Muttering to himself.
"Bren. Please just - just listen to me!" Steven is insistent.
"I am, Steven. But you're not making much sense. This is your Uncle we are talking about."
"An Uncle who's asked you for money!"
"Yes, to take care of you all."
"No Bren! Something isn't right. Tony wouldn't do that, just come out with it. Ask you for money so he can look after us."
"Kids cost money, Steven!"
"Don't you think I know that! You're not listenin' to what I'm sayin' Bren!" he almost screams at me. His breathing rapid and fists clenched.
"I am Steven. Just calm down, yeah." I reach out and place my hand on his shoulder.
"No! Don't tell me what to do! You don't get to do that! You don't give a shit about me!" he shrugs me off.
I pinch the top of my nose and take a breath.
"You know that's not true, Steven." I say quietly, glancing up into his eyes.
He's still looking at me accusingly. His brow is furrowed and his pupils dilated with anger.
"Well listen to me then!" He says taking a step towards me.
"Ok. Ok. I am listening." I say calmly.
This seems to appease him slightly, his muscles relax, his shoulders visibly drop.
"I just don't get it, right," he sighs. "Somethin' don't feel right about him askin' you for money. I mean, he's a pushover, never says no to anythin', always does what mam and Terry tell 'im to so the fact he would come 'ere, say he's gonna take care of us and ask you for money just don't seem like him."
But he didn't offer to take them, did he? It was me. I asked him.
"Maybe he's grown a backbone." I consider. "Maybe he just realised he couldn't take care of you all without some help. And so bit the bullet and asked."
"Yeah and maybe he just wants your money." Steven snorts.
"He seemed pretty genuine, Steven."
"How would you know though, right? You don't even know 'im. You met 'im for like a few hours and ya think you know 'im better than me!"
Steven's right, you know. I don't know him. But I did ask him. He could have said no. But he didn't. He said he needed some help financially.
"I'm not saying that I know him better than you. All I'm saying is he seemed like he cared and that he wanted to take care of you."
"Why though, eh? Why does he want us?"
"Because he's your Uncle! Because he's family and wants to take care of you!"
Steven puffs his cheeks out and crosses his arms. I don't know what else to say to him. Tony will look after him. I can't. They can't stay here with me no matter how much Steven protests. Even if my family could ever understand, even if Chez would accept my relationship with a boy who was six years older than my son, even if me and Steven could have a 'relationship' – what sort of life could I offer Steven? Not one that's worth living. Not the one he's so deserving of.
I am so familiar with the place he's at right now - so young at this life altering crossroads. I know these next few events will shape him into the man he will be. The path I took changed me for a lifetime, but the choices made for me were wrong. I was manufactured into the monster I am and I didn't even know half of it was happening.
So he has to do this. This has to happen - regardless of the pain in his eyes and how that pain is almost enough to sever my heart. This is the only right turn.
"It's been sorted." I say gently. "Tony has agreed for you and the twins to live with him. And it's only Southport – it's not a million miles away."
I can only hope it's far enough.
"It's been sorted, Steven."
"Sorted?! How can it be sorted?! You didn't even ask me!" he shouts angrily.
"Tony and I talked about it this evening when you were putting the kids to bed."
"This evenin'?! So you were just chattin' away and Tony randomly says 'Hey Brendan, why don't I take Ste and the twins off your hands, look after 'em. Oh and can I 'ave eighty grand?' Just like that." he says sarcastically.
"No, Steven. Not just like that. He wasn't the one who asked!" I blurt it out and I can feel him pause and take in what I've just said.
He looks at me and a realisation hits him hard – you can almost watch it happen, like it crashes against him and knocks him down.
"You? You asked him?" he growls through gritted teeth. "He didn't offer, you asked him."
"Steven, look-"
"What? Come on, what Bren?" he exclaims throwing his hands up in the air. "The idea just came to you over your medium-rare steak?"
"No, it didn't just come to me all of a sudden!" I say before thinking about what this will mean to him.
He pauses as an agonized look spreads across his face as he takes in and comprehends what I just divulged.
"You had this planned?" he asks me quietly. "You had planned on asking him?"
He takes a step backwards.
"How long have you been thinking about this? Since I spoke to the elf? Since I asked you for the eight foot tree? No, it was before that wasn't it - it's why you wanted me to ask 'im over for dinner in the first place isn't it?!" he cries.
I stay silent, looking at him. Searching his face for some kind of understanding. Anything that means he understands why I had to do this. I thought I saw it before, when I fucked him against the bedside mirror – I thought I saw him saying goodbye.
"Isn't it, Bren?!" he commands.
"Yes." I quietly nod.
The pain of my confession spreads across his face – his brow is lowered and his nose is wrinkled. The skin around his eyes is drawn tightly and his lips are parted. As though my words have caused him actual physical pain.
"You never intended for us to stay did you?" he says tears forming in his eyes, "you made me think we were going to be here for Christmas! As a family!"
"I didn't ever say that, Steven." I say sadly.
"But this week! You let me decorate a tree, our tree! You took the kids to see Santa. You never said we wouldn't be here!"
The tears are slowly running down his cheek. He uses the sleeve of his hoodie in an attempt to wipe them away.
"You'll be O-"
"You even made love to me!"
That word drops like a bomb.
"I… what?"
Since when has that deadly four letter word ever been breathed between us? When did the lines of casual fuck get blurred in his head? Did I know that had happened? Why do I feel like we made that significant change together, and that it was way before this week?
"Don't you make out like you didn't right." He says, "earlier? It was different cos you made love to me!"
"No, no I'm sorry Steven that didn't happen. And you even said you knew, and that you were gonna be OK – you and the kids."
"I said we were gonna be OK – you and me. Cos it's scary, cos it's love. It is love Bren, this right, it's love," he's taking hold of my hands now, but I shake him off – I can't be in love with someone who's young enough to be my son. I can't be in love with someone like him. "Please just tell me – what did I do? Why don't you want us here? Why don't you want me? What 'ave I done wrong?"
"It's not like that! You haven't done anything wrong." I can't stand to see the pain on his face – I reach out and gently wipe away his tears. "Of course I wanted you here. I wouldn't have asked you to stay if I didn't want you here. But-"
"But what?" He chokes past his tears. "You wouldn't 'ave asked Tony to take us if you wanted us. If you wanted me."
"I can't take care of you, of the twins. I can barely look after myself and you and the twins need stability. Need somewhere you can be safe and not get caught up in everything I'm involved in."
"I'm already involved in the kind of things you're involved in!" He exclaims
I smile sadly at him. Sometimes it feels like he is the only one in this world who knows me, who can truly see me, into me and what I want to be. Other times, times like now, it is obvious that he is blinded to the shadows of my soul, I know he can't see the shape of the monster I am.
Almost impulsively my head starts to shake slowly.
"I've been dealing drugs for two years innit?!" He insists, "with your business partner!"
I place my hand back over his cheek, smooth skin; smooth, innocent, skin.
"Is that," Steven starts still formulating solutions in that head of his. "Is that it? I know you're worried about Mr Fox finding out right? I know that scares you, but it will be OK, it will be OK as long as we're together, you and me."
"Steven-"
"It proper will."
I press my thumb to his lips, his beautiful lips, silence his words – something that earlier today I thought I would never want to do.
"Steven, you don't even know who I am."
He stares at me like I've just taken the fabric of his dreams and ripped it into shreds. Like I've chucked him a grenade at the final second. Like I've murdered something that was starting to grow. It's a moment of deadly silence before he starts again.
"This, what you're saying, it's more than just us leavin here, innit? You're saying it's over, you and me, us, you're saying-"
"There never was any us," I tell him, because there never could have been could there?
I walk away from him. I can't stand to witness any more of the warzone I've left him in. I don't even turn back when he sinks to the floor. I already know what it feels like to be looked at as though you're a murderer.
***K&M***
We don't sleep together that night. We don't talk, there are no more words or touches. About four hours afterward I find him in one of the spare rooms. He's looking at a photo frame of me and the boys, but he hides it as soon as I come in. He knows I've never minded him looking at my stuff – but that's not what he's hiding is it? His thoughts are what he doesn't want me to see.
I nod at him just once and he attempts a smile. I say attempts – it's like it's a child's water colour. I've left him so weak.
I wait for him in our bed, I don't mean to fall asleep but I do with my reading light on and my book on my chest. When I climb out of bed at six in the morn I find him still in that room, with that photo frame, he's fallen asleep in that suit I rented him.
I go for a shower, my movements are habitual, my thoughts solid. I'm entirely numb. He will leave me in the state he found me.
As I walk back into the kitchen I can hear Leah and Lucas' happy chattering, smell the scents of Steven's cooked breakfast – this is what I was offered, the domesticity I'm giving up. I have to. If you knew my life you would understand, you would know that I have no choice.
***K&M***
I don't know how he does it – continues to look at Leah and Lucas like the world is a beautiful place when I can see what he's like inside, when I know he's doubting the very existence of humanity. Every accidental eye contact shows me the warzone he's in. Shows me the disaster he thinks he's facing. But all this is is goodbye – goodbye for a happier life, a normal life. A teenage boy who's lost everyone should be with their family and I know that. I know that with every regret inside me.
At the front door the twins both hug me and thank me - they don't even need Steven's prompt to do it this time.
In fact Leah even says, "Ste don't be rude, thank Mr Brady!"
He smiles at her, strokes a hand over her golden hair and says, "we've already talked princess."
"Steven-" impulsively, selfishly, foolishly, disgustingly I try to stop him on the way out of the door.
He sticks his hand out to me for a shake as though I'm a stranger – like he did the very first time we met. My fingers interweave his and he stares at our touch, thinking no doubt of everything we've been through these last few days - the changes I made for him, because of him. A bitter ugly laugh leaves his lips. It rings even when the door closes me in alone with my monster.
Do I wait for him to come back? Possibly. I do know that it's him at the door. I know the pattern of his knock now.
Foolishly I let him in. And as soon as I do he starts talking, words scrambling, playing with the jigsaw of our lives as though their union is not impossible.
"You said, yesterday you said you're used to pushing this stuff away and that's what you're doing now, and you're just doing this cos right now it feels easier innit? It's not what you want though is it? I know – I know you. And I know this is difficult but you aint gonna be happy if I go. And you don't need to worry or owt - we don't need looking after. I can look after the twins meself and I will get a job and that. Just this, this it don't have to be over."
I feel my heart pounding in my chest. It would be so easy to just give into the boy. To acknowledge his pleas and do what my heart is telling me. He's not giving up. But I have always forced myself to follow my head. It stops things getting….messy. Your head can't be damaged in the same way your heart can. And I've got to think of Steven and the twins. I'm not good for them.
"I'm no good for you, Steven."
"But you are. Right? You are. Look at everything you've done for us, yeah. We'd still be on the streets if it weren't for you!"
He's pleading with me, I have to be strong. I have to let him go.
"No. You're going. I can't have ye here any longer."
He's looking at me with a desire I'm trying to resist, a need for me to say it's ok. I grab his collar with both hands and gently push him backwards until he hits the hallway wall.
"I love you!" He exclaims.
He screams that word that dropped like a bomb last night. That word that detonated in our faces as he held it up against our sex and showed me that it fitted. With that one syllable he showed me that we were doing more than fucking, more than shagging and screwing and every degrading label I had ever given it. That we meant….But I can't think this now -
"Shut up, please just –"
He leans in and kisses me. I pull back and almost whimper "No."
I take a sharp intake of breath as I'm looking towards the floor. I can't look at him. I don't trust myself not to give into his pleas. My forehead is resting against his. I try to steady my breathing, to not be drawn to him even though every cell in my body is screaming out for me to kiss him back. It's more than just the beat of my heart. I can actually feel his eyes on me, pleading me to look up into them. I can't. Looking into that sea of blue will pull me in. Pull me into his soul and I won't be able to stop myself. My weakness fights through. I can't help but glance upwards. And I can see his every emotion right there on his face, in his eyes. The torment of not understanding why I am doing this, the hurt caused by him thinking I don't want him. It breaks me to feel that hurt radiating into me. That I am the one causing him pain now.
I can't help but touch him. My hand automatically reaches up to touch him, to feel his warm skin. My fingers are gently touching his cheek. My hand slides back so my fingers are on the back of his head. Pulling him towards me. I lean in closer. Pause for a fraction of a second then my resolve dispels and I lean in and kiss him deeply and god it feels incredible. He feels incredible. His lips mould onto mine like they were made to fit there. He kisses me back with such passion and, and love, it nearly destroys me and it takes all my strength to pull back from it. I drop my hand from his head and look at the floor. Our foreheads barely touching.
I inhale sharply and pull myself together.
For his benefit.
I'm shattering into a million pieces inside.
"That was goodbye," I say trying to sound like I mean it. Solid and formidable.
I see the look of confusion in face, the hurt in his eyes and hear him whisper "What?" Then "No!"
I look at him briefly. "Get out my face!" I shout.
It's for the best.
"No," he pleads.
I use my hand to push him away from me and firmly say "Go! Now!"
He leaves and I feel like I am about to collapse. I slump backwards against the wall, my head falls back against it. I look upwards, almost as though I'm asking God for some fortitude, trying not to crumble into pieces.