Chapter Two

Brendan remembered the first few weeks of prison as the worst. He spent two days confined to his cell, not eating anything and only drinking what he had to. Eventually the threat of being force fed spurred him to venture into the dining hall but that didn't improve his temperament. Some of the men had been inside during his last sentence and sneered at him as he walked by.

One man in particular caught his eye, especially when he stood to block his path. Brendan squinted at him, taking in the wide frame, scratchy stubble and insufferable grin.

"Brendan Brady, oh how the mighty have fallen." That voice too; sneering as ever, too loud and pronounced.

"Foxy," Brendan greeted him dryly. "Fancy seeing ye here."

Warren smirked unpleasantly. "You'd think you would remember the man you got banged up."

"I remember all the men I bang." Brendan said, voice dead.

Warren's smile didn't falter. "And how is ratboy, hm?"

Brendan didn't even hesitate when he lunged for him, throwing him onto one of the tables. "Shut yer mouth." He growled, grip firm on Warren's throat.

The guards hurried forwards but Warren waved them away when Brendan finally let go.

"It's alright, old friend of mine." Warren winked. He turned his gaze back to Brendan. "You haven't lost that temper of yours I see."

Brendan grunted in reply, pushing past him to grab a plate of food.

"First meal, huh? Not been hungry?" Warren asked, persistent as ever.

Brendan ignored him, loading the bare minimum onto his plate.

"Unlike you isn't it?" He could feel Warren's breath on the back of his neck. The effect made him shudder involuntarily.

"Whatever."

He threw his plate down, striding out of the dining room. He'd suddenly lost his appetite.

The nights were the worst. He would only sleep a few hours at a time, plagued by nightmares and restlessness. In those first few nights everything was still raw; wounds open and gaping. Sometimes in the dead of night, Brendan thought he could feel Steven's lips pressed against his in a final, desperate kiss.

It took some adjusting, and Brendan had plenty of time for it. He refused visitations, avoided Warren as much as possible and generally spent his time reading and working out. His workouts became so intense that he could block out his surroundings. It seemed to calm him, more than his anger management sessions did.

As he wandered aimlessly through the village in the present, he resisted the urge to run and never come back. Everything was so infinite in the real world. He wasn't caged, he had room to breathe, but his head was such a mess of confused jumbles. He had no where to turn, no family or friends he could rely on here.

He was so absorbed in his musings that he didn't notice when he walked straight into someone. Very careless when he was trying to keep a low profile; especially when that certain person was someone he knew very well.

"Brendan?" A voice asked incredulously.

"Anne?" Brendan murmured after a moment's beat. Was she some kind of mirage?

"Is it really you?" Her lips spread into a huge grin. She didn't hug him though. Brendan thought it was down to his unkempt appearance until he noticed the small boy holding her hand tightly.

"Who's this?" Brendan asked, voice lighter than it had been in years.

Mitzeee glanced down, fond smile on her face. "This is Phoenix, my son."

Brendan remembered a distant conversation about the pregnancy and the one night stand. "The stripper?" He asked absently.

"He's Riley's." Mitzeee replied, voice quiet.

"And you are?" Phoenix asked impulsively. He had Mitzeee's eyes and they lit up his tiny face.

"Phoenix, don't be rude." Mitzeee scolded him with a small huff. "This is Brendan."

Phoenix blinked up at him, considering. "The man on the wall?"

Mitzeee's cheeks flushed visibly. "Yes, the man on the wall."

Brendan tilted his head inquisitively.

"Picture of us." Mitzeee explained, small curve to her mouth.

"Ah, glad someone remembers me." Brendan attempted a smile but he must have looked deranged because Mitzeee frowned.

"Why don't you come back with me? We can talk." Mitzeee placed a gentle hand on his arm. Brendan tried not to flinch; he wasn't used to kind touches these days.

"Ye live here again?" Brendan asked, voice hoarse.

"Yeah, moved back a year ago."

"Why?" Brendan couldn't help asking.

Mitzeee shrugged awkwardly. "It's home, isn't it? I wanted Phoenix to see where his daddy lived."

"Daddy's with the angels." Phoenix explained as though giving Brendan a lecture.

Brendan bent down to his level, removing his hood briefly. "I got a lot of people up there too."

"That must be sad." Phoenix said. He was perceptive, just like his mum.

"Mm, mostly." Brendan agreed, glancing up at Mitzeee.

"Have you seen Ste yet?" She asked as they walked to her flat.

"Briefly, didn't approach him."

"Why not?"

"He had company." Brendan said darkly.

"You mean Sam?" Mitzeee asked, a little brighter than Brendan thought was necessary.

"Sam is it?" He answered scathingly.

"You know it's his dad?" Mitzeee asked, frowning.

"Course. Great track record with fathers, me."

Mitzeee's expression darkened. She turned the key, allowing Brendan to walk in ahead of her.

"I best put the kettle on."

"I'd ask for something stronger but…"

"No chance." Mitzeee ruffled Phoenix's hair. "Too curious for his own good, this one."

"Best way to be sometimes." Brendan said absently. He stared a little sadly at the boy, who had run ahead of them to grab his toys.

"So you saw him then?" Mitzeee asked once they had settled down together on the sofa.

"Yeah." Brendan grunted, remembering how good he had looked and how desperately he had wanted to touch him. "What do ye know of this father of his?" Brendan asked, straight to the point.

"Sam? He's…" Mitzeee struggled to find the words. "Nice, I suppose."

"Nice?"

"He's charming." Mitzeee blushed. "Strong, confident. Watches out for Ste, God knows he needed it-"

"What do ye mean?" Brendan asked sharply.

Mitzeee faltered, looking uncomfortable. "How much do you know?"

"I know the deli burnt down." Brendan replied.

Mitzeee nodded. "I heard about that, Ste told me." She paused then, seeming reluctant to continue.

"And?" Brendan pressed. "Who started the fire?"

Mitzeee looked away uncomfortably. "I think you ought to ask Ste that."

Brendan opened his mouth to argue until Phoenix came bounding over to them.

"Ste? Is Ste coming round?" He asked excitedly.

Mitzeee smiled at him, brushing his cheek with her finger. "Tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Brendan repeated.

"He's babysitting." Mitzeee explained.

"Leah and Lucas?" Brendan asked, seized with a sudden hope. "Are they here?"

Mitzeee shook her head sadly. "They're with Amy. She visits though, not as often as Ste would like. I let him look after Phoenix sometimes. It makes him feel better."

Brendan nodded, slumping a little.

"Have you got anywhere to stay tonight?" Mitzeee asked.

"Probably stay in a B&B." Brendan replied absently. His thoughts were on Leah and Lucas now. How old must Leah be? Eight? Nine?

"You can stay here." Mitzeee said, breaking his thoughts. "We have a spare room."

"I couldn't…" Brendan said quietly.

"Course you can. I know how it is, when you first get out." Mitzeee looked into his face. "Bet you haven't had a decent nights sleep in years."

Brendan shrugged. "Steven though…"

"He's taking Phoenix out for the day, he'll be in and out." Mitzeee said. "But I mean, you could say hello, if you wanted to…"

"No, not yet." Brendan replied gruffly.

"But you'll stay? We'll only worry about you otherwise." Mitzeee smiled, glancing over at Phoenix who was pointing up at their picture on the wall.

"You're hairy now." He said in confusion.

Brendan laughed, the sound alien to him after years of disuse. "I haven't shaved yet."

Phoenix approached him carefully, reaching out as though to stroke the beard. He looked to his mum for confirmation. Mitzeee nodded, eyes glittering at Brendan.

"Soft." He said, slowly beginning to smile.

"Wait till ye see the tache." Brendan told him, wolfy grin in place.

"Tache having a comeback, is it?" Mitzeee asked, amused.

"Maybe."

"You'll feel more like yourself then."

"Not sure I want to." Brendan admitted.

Mitzeee's expression softened. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not yet." Brendan said. "But… thanks." He meant the room for the night, but also so much more.

"Anytime." Mitzeee replied quietly.

Even in a soft, comfortable bed Brendan found himself wide awake. He had grown used to the noises of men around him and now the silence was stifling. He tossed and turned, growing aggravated. Eventually he went out into the living room for a glass of water, sitting in the quiet living room, alone once more.

He glanced up at the picture of himself and Mitzeee, his eyes travelling to others on the wall. Phoenix presumably taking his first steps, one of the two of them with Carl and Bobby and then… Steven. Steven and Mitzeee, Phoenix in the middle. Brendan stood up, walking closer to the picture and rubbing his thumb across the man in the frame. Steven had lived a life without him, what was he even doing here?

Knowing he wouldn't get any sleep that night, he made himself comfortable on the sofa and put the television on quietly so he didn't wake the other two. He must have dozed off at some point because the next thing he knew Mitzeee was shaking him and there was a voice at the door.

"Mitz? Can I come in?"

"Just a minute, Ste!" Mitzeee called, staring at Brendan with wide eyes. "What are you doing? Get in the bedroom!" She hissed quietly.

"Is everything alright?" Steven asked, concerned.

"Fine! Just a minute!"

"Are you naked or something?" Steven laughed. Brendan closed his eyes, shuddering in pleasure at the noise.

Mitzeee rolled her eyes, faint smile on her lips. She gave him a push towards the bedroom.

"Stay there and be quiet." She whispered urgently before rushing towards the door.

Steven walked in like he owned the place, eyes scanning the flat suspiciously. "You got a bloke here or something?"

"Don't be daft!" Mitzeee replied nervously, playing with her hair.

"Ste!" Phoenix toddled out of his room, arms outstretched.

"There you are!" Steven bent down to pick him up. "And how are you?"

"Good!" Phoenix replied brightly. "Mummy has a friend here."

Steven raised his eyebrows suggestively. "Does she now?"

Mitzeee bustled around the room, collecting Phoenix's things. She shot Brendan a warning glance at the door. He shrunk back further.

"None of my business!" Steven said eventually, eyes shining with unsuppressed glee.

"How's the job hunt going?" Mitzeee asked, changing the subject.

"It wasn't good until I bumped into Darren, they have a job going at The Dog."

"I could have helped you with that, I still have some sway there." Mitzeee said.

"Oh no it's fine. Dad's been keen enough for me to work at the club, I don't want to lean on people too much."

Brendan didn't mistake the sympathy in Mitzeee's expression at that statement. Brendan sensed that on a normal day she would have pressed it, but with Brendan lurking nearby she changed tact.

"It could be fun though, working together again at the club."

Steven looked uncomfortable, hoisting Phoenix closer in his arms. "Not for me." He said, tight smile on his face.

"Can I ask you something, Ste?" Mitzeee asked conspiratorially. Brendan tensed in response.

"Anything." Steven replied, leaning closer.

"What would you do if Brendan… came back?"

Steven blinked, stunned. "He isn't, Mitzeee."

"Say he did though." Mitzeee pressed.

Steven looked confused. "Why are you asking me this? We don't talk about him." He said very quietly.

"Not anymore, I know." Mitzeee replied, glancing warily at the door behind her. "Because of how upset you were-"

"Mitzeee, can we not talk about this?" He whispered, flushing. Phoenix looked between the two of them, confused.

"Brendan?" He asked, eyebrows knitting together.

"It's no one, Phoenix." Steven said quickly.

Mitzeee ushered them out quickly after that and then opened the bedroom door, looking apologetic.

"I thought I'd try." She explained.

"It's fine. I couldn't expect him to wait for me, I gave him no reason to."

"He's hurting, Bren. Has been for the past three and a half years. He loved you so much."

"Past tense, ouch." Brendan strode past her, hand rubbing at his temple. "I should go."

"Go? Go where?" Mitzeee asked worriedly.

"Away. Steven has a life here now, I can't ruin that."

"Bren-"

Brendan interrupted her by kissing her on the forehead. "Thanks for everything, Anne. I'll be in touch."

"Brendan!" Mitzeee called after him as he went out the door.

It was no use; Brendan looked straight ahead, no turning back.