Chapter Thirteen

Brendan stood in front of the bathroom sink, razor in hand. He tilted his chin up, blades resting against the hair above his Adam's apple. He sheared the first line, feeling oddly satisfied. He did this several times until he was left with an almost goatee. Making sure to envisage the shape correctly, he removed the remaining hair around his jaw and chin, leaving a distinct stubble around the contours of his recently reformed moustache.

There was a lot of hair in the sink and Brendan turned the tap on to wash it all away, and with it the old Brendan; the Brendan who had thought he'd spend the rest of his days rotting in prison.

On his bed a suit was laid out, a new one. It was dark blue with a white shirt to wear underneath. Putting it on felt like replacing a second skin. He checked himself in the mirror, smoothing his moustache down and staring at his reflection. He almost looked like the same man. Almost.

He stepped out the door of the flat, down the steps and into the outside world. He was back at his old place now; Steven had been right in thinking it would be available for him again. He was starting at work today after spending the week previous organising a few of his assets. Steven had been to visit the kids, promising Brendan that he would ask Amy to bring them down soon. Brendan wasn't optimistic. He feared Amy's reaction to Brendan's reappearance in Steven's life. Steven had been insistent on telling her, not wanting to repeat old mistakes.

Brendan took his first steps out into the village, head held high. It wasn't long until he saw a few familiar faces. Darren Osborne almost walked into the wall at the sight of him, mouth agape and fearful.

"Brendan!" He exclaimed. "You're err… back?"

"So it would seem." Brendan said coolly.

"Anything you need, mate. Free drinks or whatever, name it."

Brendan stared at him with narrowed eyes. "Alright…" He said slowly, suspicious of this sudden generosity.

Darren nodded eagerly, tripping over himself in his haste to get out of Brendan's way.

Next up was Douglas. He was holding a coffee at the time of Brendan's arrival. Needless to say he hardly noticed the warm liquid pooling around his feet from where he'd dropped it.

"You've got to be kidding me." He said harshly, eyes widening in disbelief.

"Nice to see ye too, Douglas." Brendan said mildly. "Like what ye have done with the place." He commented.

"Is that some kind of joke?" Douglas retorted, eyebrows knitting together.

"No need to be so fiery, Douglas." Brendan said conspiratorially.

"Ha, hilarious." Douglas rolled his eyes. "How did you even get out?"

"Oh ye know, killed a few prison guards, jumped over barbed wire, chased by dogs. That kinda thing."

Douglas laughed along with him without real humour. "You back for good?" He asked, genuinely curious this time.

Brendan glanced around himself, for the first time feeling uncomfortable. "Yeah, I guess."

"Long as you've got Ste, right?" Douglas said, voice taking on a new tone. Brendan stared at him suspiciously. "Don't start, Brendan. That ship has well and truly sailed."

"So I heard." Brendan said, moving closer and lowering his voice.

"I'll tell you all about it sometime." Douglas said. Brendan wasn't entirely sure if he was being serious or not.

"Sure." Brendan nodded, stepping back and continuing on his way. "Love the uniform change by the way." He called to him, several feet away now.

"Thanks, Ste's idea before everything went up in smoke, quite literally!"

"Ye know what they say, Douglas. No smoke without fire…"

"Yeah, whatever." Douglas said, waving him aside and stepping back inside the deli.

As he drew closer to the club, faces became more hostile. Brendan hadn't expected anything less; he was still a murderer in their eyes. The likes of Frankie Osborne gave him disdainful looks, Jack Osborne appearing unsure and somewhat hardened by the sight of him. Brendan began to feel the prickling of unease. He felt exposed, on display. He wasn't sure how much people knew about the shooting, nor did he want to find out.

He glanced up at the club's balcony, a million memories hitting him at once. Samuel was up there now, surveying the village with a coffee in his hand.

Brendan grunted in displeasure, wondering if the degradation was even worth the trouble. He was just about to turn back home when a voice cut straight through him.

"Brendan!"

He turned and next thing he knew, Steven was in his arms, clinging to him tightly and without abandon. A few people turned to look at them, eyebrows raised. Steven ignored them, giving Brendan a long, hard kiss.

"Missed you." He whispered as they drew apart, eyelashes fluttering against Brendan's skin.

"Missed ye too." Brendan breathed, feeling as though a weight had been lifted.

"You coming up?" Steven waved up at Samuel, who gave a curt nod in response. Evidently he had witnessed the entire show.

"Yeah." Brendan said, feeling more relaxed with Steven by his side but still dreading entering the club.

Steven sensed his reluctance easily. "You don't have to." He said quietly. "It's still early days yet."

"No. I need to do this." Brendan took a deep breath. Only Steven could see him like this; vulnerable, scared. He didn't trust many others to witness this other side to him.

"Then we'll do it together." Steven said, leading the way to the door.

The first sensation Brendan felt as he stepped inside was cold relief. He had imagined all sorts in the sleepless night he'd endured; Seamus' ghost lingering in corners to belittle and demoralise him, maybe some blood stains on the floor. He found none of these things and chastised himself for getting spooked over a now dead man.

Steven's eyes were on him the entire time as they moved around the club, eventually mounting the stairs. Brendan's gaze fixated on that particular spot and for a moment he thought he had seen a ghost, until it became evident that it was simply Samuel's shadow.

"Brendan." He greeted, gripping his hand in a brief shake. His feet scuffed the area in question, as though it was nothing. Steven touched the small of Brendan's back in comfort, communicating without words that he understood how he was feeling.

"Where do ye want me, boss?" Brendan asked lightly. His stance indicated he wasn't going to back down or demean himself here. Samuel straightened to his full height, a match for Brendan's own. Steven stood in between them, smaller but no less fierce.

"He can move them crates in the cellar." Steven piped up, crossing his arms. "Payback for all those I had to shift for him."

"I don't seem to remember ye complaining." Brendan said, voice a low hum. Steven blushed, biting his lip to prevent himself from grinning.

"You sure you can manage the crates in that suit, Brendan?" Samuel asked smoothly.

"I've lifted heavier." Brendan said, once more shooting Steven a knowing look. Steven laughed this time, biting his knuckles to stifle the sound. Samuel stared at them coolly.

"Alright." He said, moving towards the office. "I'll be in here devising our new rota." He said it like it was a threat.

"He'll put us on separate shifts, mark my words." Brendan told Steven once Samuel had disappeared behind the office door.

"Course not." Steven said dismissively, grabbing a tea towel and throwing it in Brendan's direction.

"What's this for?" Brendan asked, holding the offending object in one hand.

"Nothing, I just really wanted to do that." Steven replied, grinning widely.

"I can expect a lot of this treatment, can't I?" Brendan asked, amused.

Steven shrugged, moving towards the cellar door. "You asked for it really."

Brendan sighed, following Steven down the steps. "Two wrongs don't make a right, Steven."

"Whatever." Steven's teeth flashed as he bent down towards a crate. His froze mid-way, wincing in pain.

"Hey." Brendan caught him around the middle, all humour gone. "What is it?"

"Just the injury from the fire." Steven explained, expression returning to normal.

"Let's see." Brendan said shortly.

"Bren-"

"Come on." Brendan crossed his arms resolutely. Steven sighed, slowly lifting up his shirt.

Brendan hissed, amazed that he hadn't spotted it before when they'd been intimate. It wasn't noticeable at first, in his defence, but now that he saw the physicality of it there was no denying it's existence. Steven turned his head to look at him sheepishly.

"That's just the burn mark; the twinges I get are a muscle spasm. The back's been through a lot, you know?"

"Does the scar hurt?" Brendan asked, tracing his fingers gently over the slightly puckered and raised skin.

"It stretches sometimes but no, not really." Steven pulled his top back down, seemingly self-conscious.

"I'm sorry." Brendan said quietly, bowing his head to avoid looking into Steven's eyes.

"What for?" Steven asked incredulously. "You weren't even there."

"Exactly." Brendan said, voice breaking around the word.

Steven said nothing and the silence stretched between them.

"How did it happen? The burn?" Brendan asked eventually.

Steven frowned, tongue darting out of his mouth in thought. "My back hit the wall, I must have fallen onto my front. The flames were pretty bad."

Brendan shuffled awkwardly on his feet, unsure what to say next.

"It's nothing." Steven said dismissively. "Dad says it's becoming, whatever that means."

Brendan's eyes snapped back to Steven's face. "Yer dad has seen ye naked?"

"What? No!"

"Steven!" Brendan started forwards, desperate. "He hasn't, has he? Tell me he hasn't."

"Brendan, stop it." Steven pleaded, trying to wring his hands out of Brendan's tight grip. "You're scaring me."

Brendan dropped his hands immediately, as though he too had been burnt. "Sorry." he mumbled.

Steven stared at him, his horror replaced with deep concern. "It's okay. Listen, he's just seen me after a shower, or putting my shirt on. That's all."

Brendan breathed out through his nose. "I don't like it, Steven. I don't like ye living with him."

"Why?" Steven asked, clearly confused.

"I don't-" Brendan stopped himself from saying 'trust him'. He didn't have any proof to offer Steven of his distrust. Instead he changed tact. "I want ye with me of course." This was also true, undeniable.

Steven's expression softened. "Maybe you should have stayed living above me then." He answered coyly.

Brendan shrugged, unable to voice all of the many reasons he couldn't stay in that flat. It wasn't just the fact that Samuel was living below, a constant shadow over them. It was also because, no matter what had happened there, Brendan's old place felt like home. It was his last link to Lynsey, and even Cheryl in a way. It held both good memories and bad but he needed those memories to remind him why he was still here and why he wouldn't get himself into any unnecessary trouble that would take him away again.

"Well I can come round anytime, and you can come to ours."

Ours.

Brendan remembered a time when it had been theirs. Toothbrushes lined up next to each other, single dressing gown always a puddle on the bedroom floor. He remembered how they would put the kids to sleep each night and then tiptoe back to their bedroom, or sometimes fall asleep together on the sofa watching rubbish on television.

Brendan had been told how most of his belongings had been taken out of the flat at the time of his arrest. He wondered if Steven had been able to keep anything, and whether it was wise to ask him or not.

Steven stared at him, seeing the numerous emotions playing across his face.

"Let's just work for a bit, yeah?" He suggested nervously.

"Ye might as well go back up; I'll shift these."

"Yeah." Steven said, scuffing his shoe against a crate. "It's funny, init? I was so flexible the other night and yet I bend down and-"

"It's probably an unconscious pain." Brendan interrupted him. "John Watson had the same thing; his war injury would only play up when he was aware of it. Other times when he was in the heat of the moment he would run without issue. Funny thing."

Steven stared at him blankly. "Who's John Watson?"

Brendan chuckled. "Sherlock Holmes? No?"

"Oh that gay film." Steven nodded, brushing past Brendan. "I rented that ages ago, bit confusing."

"Gay film?" Brendan blinked at him.

Steven grinned, shrugging. "Brokeback was better."

Brendan snorted in disdain. "Eileen watched that with me once, I thought I was going to die of discomfort."

"I'm not surprised, you idiot." Steven said good-naturedly. "Fancy watching that with her!"

"I didn't know! I thought it was some cowboy film, like John Wayne or whatever."

"John who?"

"Oh just go upstairs." Brendan laughed, patting Steven indelicately on the arse.

Xxx

Brendan had to take his suit jacket off very quickly. He rolled his sleeves up, wiping his forehead where sweat had formed on his brow. He'd shifted all the necessary crates and now he was resting against the bar, head bowed in exhaustion.

"Having fun?" Steven asked jovially, popping up beside him.

"Ugh." Brendan responded, closing his eyes.

"Not so easy, is it?" Steven asked, absolutely delighted with himself.

"Ugh." Brendan repeated.

"Hello, lover boys." A voice piped up. Brendan lifted his head up briefly to acknowledge Mitzeee's arrival, Phoenix tottering next to her.

"Hey, little man!" Steven greeted him happily, scooping him immediately into his arms. He was a natural. Brendan wished he had the same affinity with children. The only one he'd ever really succeeded with was Leah.

"Did ye talk to Amy, Steven?" Brendan asked, the thought of Leah reminding him of Steven's trip.

Steven's expression fell. He avoided Brendan's eyes as he put Phoenix down on one of the sofas. "Err…"

"What's this?" Mitzeee asked, perching on one of the bar stools.

"I went to visit Amy, told her about Brendan being back."

"And?" Mitzeee pressed, almost as keen to hear the outcome as Brendan was.

Steven smiled sheepishly. "She took it better than I thought but…"

"But…?" Brendan prompted, alert now, fatigue momentarily forgotten.

"But then Leah heard us talking." Steven said, hiding a smile. "She insisted we come down here and see you and that annoyed Amy pretty bad."

"Oh dear." Mitzeee said, sighing. "That one always did have her nose out of joint."

"Mitz!" Steven scolded, nudging her. "That's the mother of me kids!"

"So?" Mitzeee slipped Brendan a wink. "I'm right, aren't I?"

"Anne." Brendan said warningly.

Steven rolled his eyes, letting it pass. "Anyway, she said no. We argued a bit about the usual but eventually she agreed as long as dad was present." Steven averted his eyes at this last part, with good reason. Brendan felt his anger swelling inside of him. He bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from saying what he desperately wanted to.

Mitzeee frowned, voicing her own concerns. "What's Sam got to do with it?"

"I dunno." Steven said, shrugging. "It seemed important to her so I agreed."

Brendan let out a loud breath.

"Come on, Bren. What else could I do?"

"Oh I don't know, defend me?" Brendan retorted, then instantly regretted it. "But of course ye shouldn't, Amy's right about me."

"She isn't though!" Steven insisted. "She doesn't know what your dad did to ya."

"Ste." Mitzeee said, voice low.

"It's not a get out of jail free card." Brendan said, the irony not lost on him. "When are they coming then?"

"Couple of weeks." Steven said hesitantly.

"Couple of… right." Brendan sighed, rubbing his temple.

"I'm glad I told her, right! We're doing things differently this time." Steven said defensively. "I'll take Phoenix outside for a bit, yeah?" Steven asked Mitzeee, voice softer.

Mitzeee nodded, distracted. Once they were down the steps and out of sight, Mitzeee laid a reassuring hand on his arm.

"Are you alright?" She asked softly.

"I don't know." Brendan said tiredly.

"Talk to me." Mitzeee said coaxingly. Her gaze was unwavering on his face.

"Everything's building up already and I can feel myself stretched so thin." Brendan said, voice low and hurried.

"You won't lose him." Mitzeee said determinedly as if reading his thoughts.

"Ye reckon? His dad's so deep under his skin, and Amy too. How can I compete with family, huh?"

"You are family." Mitzeee pressed, grip tightening on his arm. "Ste loves you, you must know that."

"Yeah." Brendan said gruffly. "But is that enough? After everything? I'm not so sure anymore."

"Then get sure!" Mitzeee hissed. "You can't let him go again, you have to keep fighting it, no matter what they throw at you."

Brendan chuckled darkly. "I get the feeling they're gonna chuck a load at me, Anne."

"Just know that I'm on your side." Mitzeee said, voice quiet and serious.

"Isn't Samuel a better boss?" Brendan asked dryly.

"No." Mitzeee said with such conviction that it startled Brendan. "Listen, Bren… I'd keep an eye on him if I were you."

"Ye don't trust him either?"

"I trust you, and Ste." Mitzeee answered fiercely. "I just wish…" she sighed, regret colouring her tone. "I just wish I'd come back here sooner, for Ste's sake."

"Ye weren't to know what was going on."

"I know but…" Mitzeee bit her lip.

"What are ye thinking?"

"I don't think it's healthy, Brendan." Mitzeee said in a rush, as though she'd been sitting on these thoughts for some time. "His dad swans in here, gets the club, moves in, doesn't let Ste out of his sight…" Mitzeee glanced around nervously. "I've never seen Ste so… co-dependent. He lives on his dad's words. It's frightening."

"Ye don't feel the same about me and Steven?" Brendan asked wryly.

"It's not the same." Mitzeee said dismissively. "Not to me anyway."

Brendan frowned, considering Mitzeee's words. "Ye really think he's bad news?"

"I think he loves Ste and he'd do anything to make sure he has him close by." Mitzeee said, speaking slowly as though drumming each word into Brendan's mind. "And another thing, why has he given you this job? It's weird."

"Hey." Brendan said defensively. "I did own this place once."

"That's not what I meant." Mitzeee scolded. "Why hire you, let you work alongside Ste everyday?"

"He said he wanted to keep an eye on us." Brendan said slowly.

"Exactly! But why push you even more in each other's way? It doesn't make sense."

"I can't complain." Brendan said. "If I get to stay close to him…"

"But there are other ways, Brendan." Mitzeee said worriedly. "I don't like it."

Brendan laughed shortly. "Ye and me both."

"Then do something, before it's too late." Mitzeee finished her sentence in a rush. Steven had come back upstairs, carrying Phoenix.

"What did I miss?" He asked, glancing between their identical anxious faces.

"Nothing." Brendan said shortly, hearing the office door open behind him.

"Ah, Mitzeee." Samuel greeted her, eyes lighting up.

"Sam." Mitzeee nodded, taking her hand away from Brendan's arm.

"And young Phoenix!" Samuel flashed him a grin. Phoenix blinked at him, offering no more than a shy smile.

"Our Lucas is visiting soon, Phoenix." Steven told him. "That'll be fun, won't it?"

"Will Leah dress me up like a girl again?" Phoenix asked, bottom lip protruding.

Brendan couldn't help smiling at that. "I bet ye looked great, didn't ye?"

Phoenix reached out to stroke Brendan's moustache instead of offering a reply.

"You shaved."

"I did." Brendan nodded.

"Oh yeah…" Steven said, laughing in that ridiculous and yet strangely endearing way of his.

"Can I grow one, Mummy?" Phoenix asked, putting his finger across his top lip.

"When you're older, maybe." Mitzeee laughed.

"Did daddy have one?"

Mitzeee hesitated. Brendan knew it must be hard for her; Phoenix was getting to that age when all he'd have were questions.

"No. He couldn't grow one, sweetheart."

"Does it tickle?" Phoenix asked Brendan.

"No." Brendan answered at the same time as Steven. They exchanged a look.

"What does it feel like then?" Phoenix asked, now looking at Steven.

"Err, quite soft actually." Steven said, smiling.

"Is this appropriate?" Samuel interjected.

Steven's smile faded, his mouth closing.

"I don't understand." Phoenix frowned at his mother. "Aren't Ste and Brendan friends?"

"Of course they are." Mitzeee soothed, shooting Samuel a look. He had the good grace to look uncomfortable.

"Why is that bad?" Phoenix pressed, staring at Brendan.

"It's not." Brendan said, holding out his arms for Phoenix to slot into. Phoenix wrapped his arms around his shoulders tightly.

"Can Brendan come home with us, Mummy? I want to show him my new clothes."

"Of course he can." Mitzeee smiled in a satisfied sort of way. "Your shift's over?"

Samuel coughed. "I suppose he can leave a little early."

"I'll take over." Steven said happily, bouncing behind the bar. "See you later for dinner, yeah?" He gave Mitzeee a kiss on the cheek.

Brendan attempted to hand Phoenix to Mitzeee but he was having none of it.

"Will you be there too?" Steven asked Brendan hopefully.

"If that's alright."

"Course, it's date night!"

"Date night?" Brendan asked blankly, looking from Steven to Mitzeee.

Mitzeee rolled her eyes, amused. "Ste decided ages ago that every Monday we'd have a 'date night' together, just the three of us."

"Seriously?" Brendan didn't know whether to be jealous or not.

"We watch films, I cook for her. We snuggle on the sofa." Steven raised his eyebrows suggestively.

Mitzeee rolled her eyes, giving him a playful nudge. "You're making me sound sad!"

"Aw, course not!" Steven grinned. "It's nice, init?"

"Well I hate to intrude…" Brendan smiled.

"You aren't." Mitzeee said firmly. "Bring a bottle, we'll make a night of it."

Steven stared at his dad uncomfortably. "You should come too, Dad."

Mitzeee and Brendan exchanged a glance.

"That's alright, son. I have a date myself."

"Oh yeah?" Steven's face lit up. "You kept that quiet!"

"Yeah, well. It's early days. She's Italian." Samuel said smoothly, slipping Steven a wink. "I won't be late home." He added soberly.

"Oh, me neither." Steven said quickly. Brendan tensed, reading Samuel like a book.

"You might as well go with them now, Steven."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, we'll be fine."

"Thanks, Dad." Steven gave Samuel a squeeze as he hurried from behind the bar. "Hey maybe we can rent Brokeback, Bren?"

"No thank ye." Brendan said lightly, leading the way down the steps. Even as they walked away he could feel Samuel's eyes burning into the back of them.