Chapter Eight

"Who are you?" Ste asked, peering at the man at the foot of his bed. He must have been around mid-forties, sandy haired, strong build. Ste felt insignificant in comparison, especially with all his bandages.

"Steven Hay?" The man asked. His voice was deep and it sent a thrill through Ste.

"Do I know you?" He asked warily.

"No." The man said mildly, taking a seat at the end of Ste's bed, ignoring the more accessible chair beside him. "But I know you, I think."

"What?" Ste suddenly felt afraid. He remembered Simon Walker and how fixated he had been on destroying everything; how he had sought them out and relentlessly done everything in his power to bring them down. This man in comparison seemed friendly enough though, and open. Ste wasn't entirely sure he trusted that assertion though. His instincts lately were shot to pieces, considering everything he had been through.

"Don't be scared." The man said calmly. "I've been looking for you for some time now. I knew your mother, Pauline."

Ste felt his stomach twist uncomfortably. "I don't see her anymore so whatever trouble she's in, it's got nothing to do with me." Ste said quickly.

The man laughed and it was a strangely pleasant sound. "You misunderstand me. I knew her a very long time ago, when I was only a teenager."

"Yeah?" Ste answered, unsure where this was going. "What do you want me for then? I can't tell you anything, we don't even speak."

He looked troubled by this but unsurprised. "Steven…" he began uncomfortably. "I'm your father."

Ste stared at him blankly. "My dad?" he eventually managed to say. The man nodded, faint smile across his lips. "You sure about that?"

"Positive. But of course if you need proof, a DNA test will be more than reasonable."

Ste nodded slowly, hardly able to believe it.

"Where you been then?" He asked bluntly, straight to the point.

The man laughed a little. "It's a long story, Steven."

"I've got time." Ste replied, gesturing to his bed bound state. "Let's hear it then." He paused, searching for something to call him.

"Samuel Spencer." He said, holding out a hand.

"Right." Ste said, ignoring the hand.

Sam laughed again, eyes crinkling at the corners. "I like you already."

"I have that effect." Ste said sarcastically.

"I'll bet." Sam said, eyes sparkling. "Where would you like me to start then?"

"From the beginning would be helpful."

The smile didn't leave Sam's face. "I met your mother when I was eighteen, her seventeen. I was working in construction and her and her friends used to pass us by, making comments."

"Sounds about right." Ste muttered to himself.

Sam continued as though Ste hadn't interrupted. "We chatted occasionally, got to know each other. I invited her to a few parties."

"Wait." Ste put his hand up, wincing at the pain shooting down his arm as he did so. "If you're about to tell me I was conceived while you were drunk at some party, I don't want to hear it."

Sam laughed again, and Ste was struck with its familiarity. It made him ache in a new way.

"No, Steven. The party was where we first… grew acquainted with each other. We dated for a little while after that. I won't lie to you; it wasn't the most… ah, romantic of pairings."

Ste rolled his eyes. "No need to tell me that, mate."

Sam nodded, eyeing him carefully. "To cut a long story short, a few weeks after we'd first got together, Pauline told me she was pregnant. I was… young, and stupid. I didn't believe her at first but the dates matched, as long as she hadn't been playing away." Sam glanced at him apologetically but Ste simply shrugged. "Anyway, after some reflection I agreed to stand by her. I still had my job and could provide for her, and you. But…"

Ste was staring at him in complete fascination now. "What happened?"

Sam sighed deeply. "You're obviously familiar with Terry Hay?"

Ste turned away, insides clenching. "I am."

Sam looked at him sadly. "When I searched for you it took me a long time; I didn't know you'd have his name. I assumed you'd have your mother's."

Ste forced himself to remain calm. "Go on."

"He'd loved Pauline for a while, since school apparently. They were one of those on-off couples, you know the type."

Ste bit his lip, stomach churning uncomfortably.

"He threatened me, claimed that I'd moved in on his territory. I hadn't known anything about him but Pauline assured me they weren't together when we were. She was keen to get rid of him really, and must have known I'd offer her more security with a baby on the way. But alas, it wasn't meant to be."

"And?" Ste prompted, completely engrossed now; Pauline hadn't told him any of this.

"Terry got me fired from my job. He dogged her until she gave in, agreed to stay with him. I had no choice."

Ste felt his anger flaring up then.

"You had every choice." He said bitterly. "You left me with that monster."

Sam's eyes flashed fearfully then. "He hurt you?"

Ste looked away, not wanting this man's sympathy. "None of your business."

"I'm so sorry, Steven." Sam said imploringly. "I tried to have contact after you were born but Terry wouldn't let me near. I even tried to get the police involved but Pauline put Terry on the birth certificate."

"And so I became a Hay." Ste said bitterly, tears springing to his eyes. "A lifetime of misery and neglect because you wouldn't fight for me. Why will no one fight for me?"

Sam reached out as though to comfort him but seemingly thought better of it.

"Was he always terrible to you?"

"Not always." Ste said quietly. "He went away sometimes, and Mum would cry and curse and sleep with other men. But he'd always come back." Ste's eyes were unseeing now, glazed over with tears. "Why did he have to come back?"

Sam couldn't seem to contain himself any longer. He reached over to grasp Ste's hand.

"I will make it up to you, Steven. I promise you."

Ste looked at him and felt his instincts screaming at him not to trust again, not to let someone look after him because chances were they'd leave him all over again. This man couldn't be any different.

"I can't, not right now." Ste said bleakly, taking his hand away. He looked away into the far corner, willing the tears to stop.

"I'll come back another day." Sam promised, standing. "Whatever you want, Steven."

When he left the room, Ste found himself aching even more with loneliness and doubt. He hated to admit it to himself but he did need someone and a part of him longed to know who he really was; if this man was mirrored in him, or not. He remembered Brendan telling him that he couldn't possibly understand how it felt to be linked by blood, to be wired the same. Even though he wasn't around to see it, Ste was glad to be able to prove him wrong.

Xxx

"Steven?" Brendan touched his face gently, as though afraid to startle him.

"What?" Ste stared at him blankly.

"Ye went really quiet." Brendan said softly, concern etched onto his features.

"Oh." Ste answered feebly. "I was just thinking."

"Was it too much telling me all that?" Brendan asked carefully. "Or is it me being here? Ye know ye only have to say the word and-"

"No." Ste said firmly, perhaps a little too firmly. "I mean, I do want you here." He added, calmer.

Brendan seemed to relax at his words. They had spent the best part of an hour discussing the fire and Ste's first meeting with his dad. Ste could tell Brendan had a million questions to ask but he was holding back in case he upset Ste.

Ste sighed heavily. "What do you want to know?" He asked.

Brendan blinked, surprised. "It can wait."

"No, go on." Ste leaned back against the sofa's cushions, closing his eyes. "Ask away."

"Ye sure?"

"Course."

Ste felt the dip in the sofa as Brendan stood. Ste opened his eyes, peering at Brendan pacing across the room.

"Why did ye steal the cigarettes and go drinking like that? It isn't who ye are."

"It's… complicated." Ste said evasively. "When you left I… didn't cope very well, and I fell into certain habits I wouldn't normally."

Brendan winced as though Ste had physically struck him.

"I'm not blaming you." Ste said quickly. "It was a bad time. The kids were gone, I had no one."

"Whose fault was that though?" Brendan said, agonised.

Ste grew angry. "Can you not do that? I'm trying to be honest here and you're making it difficult."

"I'm sorry." Brendan said dully.

"I don't want you to be sorry." Ste said firmly. "I just want you to listen."

"Okay." Brendan sat back down, hands clasped in front of him. "Another question."

"Go on."

"Yer dad…" Brendan hesitated then. "How do ye know ye can trust him? That he's who he says he is?"

"We got the DNA test." Ste replied. "I have the results downstairs if you wanna see."

"Not necessary." Brendan said quickly. "But…"

"But what? He's been good to me the last few years. He's not a bad guy, he's made mistakes but who hasn't?" Ste stared at Brendan levelly.

"I just want to make sure ye are safe, Steven. That's all." Brendan said tiredly.

"Alright." Ste said, a little defensive for some reason. "Anything else?"

Brendan paused then and Ste had to turn towards him questioningly. "What?"

"Can I kiss ye?" Brendan's voice was quiet, his eyes sad.

Ste was caught off-guard momentarily. It was just like Brendan to work him up like that one minute and then completely disarm him the next.

"Um…" Ste licked his lips unconsciously. "If you want."

Brendan stared into his eyes, slowly bringing his hand up to cup Ste's face. His gaze flickered down to his lips as he leaned in, breath already warm against Ste's mouth. He paused when they were inches apart, meeting Ste's eyes for confirmation. Ste gave the barest hint of a nod and then Brendan's lips were covering his.

It wasn't like last nights kiss. That had been accidental and frantic; this was slower, softer. Brendan seemed to be taking his sweet time, curling his fingers around the back of Ste's neck and drawing him closer. Ste could feel his tongue against the roof of his mouth, gently caressing and exploring. His lips were firm and warm like he remembered but the tickle of his beard was new. Ste reached out to stroke it, expecting it to be rough but like with the moustache, was surprised at its softness.

Eventually they drew apart and it took Ste a few moments to realise that he had his eyes closed still. He opened them to see Brendan smiling fondly at him, his fingertips brushing his cheek.

"Okay?"

"Yeah." Ste croaked. "I need to go though."

Brendan's eyes took on that sad quality again. "Oh." he said very quietly.

"My dad will be wondering where I am otherwise." Ste reluctantly pulled himself away, trying to get a grip on himself. He could still feel the press of Brendan's lips against his own.

"Will ye come back?" Brendan asked. He was trying to regain his own composure but Ste could tell how difficult it was for him. His hand was half-reached out, perhaps without his knowledge, and he was leaning forwards eagerly.

"Of course I will." Ste smiled tightly. He needed to get out of here before he threw himself at the older man. It wouldn't do either of them any good and he needed time to think properly. "I'll come by later." he promised.

Brendan nodded, standing up to see him to the door. "Steven," he said softly. "Thank ye."

"What for?" Ste felt himself begin to lean into Brendan's space.

"Finding me." Brendan said, gaze smouldering and intense.

Ste swallowed hard. "You know me, persistent as ever."

Brendan smiled a little then, stepping back to allow Ste the chance to walk away.

Ste smiled once more and stepped away from the door, feeling his muscles tighten involuntarily. He didn't want to leave, not really. But he knew he couldn't simply throw himself back to the place he was at three and a half years ago. What if he lost him again? He'd already lost so much.

Xxx

"Steven?" Sam appeared in his doorway, holding a plastic bag. "Mind if I come in?"

"Sure." Steven said warily.

This was only the second time he had visited him. He knew he couldn't push his luck, not with someone as clearly fragile as Steven was. He sat on the edge of his bed like last time, the two of them eyeing each other carefully.

"What's in the bag?" Steven asked shortly.

"Oh, I brought you something to read." Sam said, fishing inside for the magazine in question. "It's one I always get."

"Oh right, thanks." Steven took it from his hands and flicked through a few of the pages, his eyebrows knitting together as he pointed at the words. He was mouthing things to himself and squinting as though the articles were a blur to him.

"Something wrong?" Sam asked, not wanting to disturb him but keen to find out everything he possibly could.

"I, uh can't read that well." Steven admitted sheepishly. "What does that say?"

He handed the magazine back to him, eyes open and honest. Sam felt very foolish.

"I'm sorry, Steven. I can read it to you, if you like?"

"What, like a bedtime story? Bit old for that now." His teeth gleamed in a bright grin. It took Sam a few moments to realise he was kidding.

Sam laughed a little, deciding to change the subject. "Have you given any more thought to our conversation the other day?"

Steven frowned a little. "I have. I do have a question though."

"Go on." Sam leaned forwards eagerly.

"Why now?" Steven glanced away as though unsure of himself. "I'm twenty four years old. I haven't been with Terry or my Mum in years. You could have found me earlier."

"Ah." Sam said uncomfortably. "I haven't had the easiest few years, I'm afraid. That's no excuse I know but-"

"What happened?" Steven asked curiously.

"My wife passed away recently." Sam said with great difficulty.

Steven stared at him in clear discomfort. "I'm sorry." He said, almost reaching out but then seemingly thinking better of it. "What killed her?"

Sam liked the way Steven said things, without restraint or embellishments. He said whatever came into his head, regardless of how it might sound.

"Cancer." Sam replied with a sad smile.

"Did you have any other kids?" Steven asked quickly. Clearly he'd been dying to ask earlier but for some reason had held back until now.

"No, I'm afraid not." Sam replied. "My wife couldn't have children."

"Oh." Steven said, looking away.

"Do you have any children?" Sam asked eagerly. He'd love to know if he was a grandfather.

Steven hesitated then. "I… yeah. I have two children."

"Two?" Sam was shocked. Steven was still young. "What are their names?" he asked, barely missing a beat.

"Leah and Lucas. Leah isn't mine but I was with her Mum at the time and kind of made her mine, you know?"

"You adopted her?"

"Oh." Steven looked surprised by the question. "No. We talked about it but we were pretty young at the time, didn't really understand the paperwork."

"I could help you, if you're interested."

"I thought you were a builder thing-y." Steven said, gesturing with his hands.

Sam laughed. "Yes, I've had a few jobs in my life. I was in construction when I was younger until… you know. Then I went to college, then university, got myself a business and law degree."

"Wow." Steven sounded impressed. "I own a-" he cut himself off, tears suddenly springing to his eyes.

"What is it, Steven?" Sam asked, concerned.

"My deli's gone." He said, voice dull.

"The fire you were in?"

Steven nodded sadly. "It was all I had left."

"What do you mean?" Sam leaned forward until he was much closer. He could see the tears catching on Steven's long eyelashes.

Steven paused, uncertain. "I had a… partner. He… well, he's gone."

"He?" Sam gave himself a moment to register this. His son was gay. Okay.

"Yeah." Steven said cautiously, as though daring him to have a problem with it. "And my kids are gone, back with their mother. I hardly get to see them anymore."

"You are having a bad time of it." Sam said sympathetically. "How can I help?"

Steven blinked, surprised. "You are helping actually, by listening."

Sam smiled, reaching forwards to take Steven's hand without hesitation, feeling more confident than their first meeting.

"You talk away, son. I want to hear everything."