Chapter Nineteen

"Is this all you're bringing?" Steven asked, wrinkling his nose and holding up Brendan's carrier bag.

"Yeah." Brendan replied, distracted. "What else would I need?"

Steven had a rifle through, messing up Brendan's careful method of throwing his clothes inside, unfolded, and hoping for the best.

"There's only two pairs of pants in 'ere!"

"And?" Brendan patted his jacket pocket, making sure his phone and plane tickets were inside.

"Won't you need more than that?"

"Steven, I spent over three years in prison. I think I can cope for a few days on only a couple pairs of underwear."

"Alright, don't bite my head off." Steven tutted.

"Hey, I wasn't-"

"I'm joking!" Steven grinned at him, bringing a smile to Brendan's lips in return. "I can tell you're stressed, just trying to lighten the mood."

"I know, I appreciate that." Brendan sighed, zipping his bag up once more. "Ye sure ye wanna come?"

"What kind of question is that?" Steven asked. "Besides, I'm all packed, aren't I?" He tapped his suitcase for effect.

"Ye really need all that?"

"Well you'll probably end up borrowing from me at this rate." Steven replied, eyes glinting mischievously.

"Are ye telling me ye have brought more underwear?"

Steven stared at him blankly. "Well… yeah."

"Pity." Brendan smirked, glancing away from Steven's face. It took Steven a few seconds to understand the implication.

"Perve."

"Hey, ye love me for it, baby." Brendan said graciously, widening his arms. Steven barrelled into him, almost knocking him off his feet.

"Git." He growled, kissing him hard on the mouth.

"Now this is the kind of distraction I can get behind…" Brendan murmured against his lips.

They were interrupted by the sound of a horn.

"That'll be the taxi." Brendan groaned, pulling his hands reluctantly from Steven's waist. "Can ye go get Declan for me?"

"Sure." Steven bounded up the stairs, shouting for him. "What are you doing up here anyway?" Brendan heard him ask.

He went outside with their bags, loading them into the back of the taxi. Mitzeee walked towards him, Phoenix holding tightly onto her hand.

"All set then?" She asked. Her mouth was a firm line of anxiety.

"Hey, ye aren't gonna worry are ye?"

"I just…" Mitzeee sighed, looking down at Phoenix. "Your dad. It should stay in the past, you know?"

"I know." Brendan said softly. "But I have to find out."

"Do you though?" Mitzeee said, dropping her voice to a whisper. "After everything he did?"

"I'm doing this for me, Anne. Not him. I need the… closure."

"Closure's overrated." Mitzeee gave a wan smile. "You'll call me, yeah?"

"Course." Brendan grunted, feeling touched by her concern but also uncomfortable. Sometimes it was difficult to look at her, knowing what she knew. She'd been the first person he'd told properly, the first person to look on him with sympathy and understanding.

"You know I'm always here, if you need me." She told him, giving him a quick embrace.

Phoenix looked up at them, troubled and confused. "Where's Brendan going, Mummy?"

"Back to Ireland, sweetheart." Mitzeee told him gently, wiping at her eyes.

"Forever?" Phoenix asked in a hushed whisper.

Brendan knelt down to his level. "Only for a little while, little man. I just need to sort out a few things and I'll be back. Ye won't even miss me."

"Yes I will." Phoenix said stubbornly.

Brendan had to smile at that. "Be good for yer Ma, okay?"

Phoenix nodded, holding out his little arms. Brendan pulled him against him effortlessly, lifting him off the ground. Steven walked down the steps, Declan a few paces behind him. His face was guarded, prompting Brendan to frown and open his mouth questioningly.

"Tell you later." Steven said quickly, taking Phoenix out of his arms to say goodbye.

They spent the journey to the airport in relative silence. Steven leaned against Brendan, warm and comforting. Declan sat across from them, arms folded in agitation. Brendan attempted to ask what was wrong a few times but Steven shook his head warningly. Once they arrived, Declan shot out of the taxi hastily, going to collect the bags out the back. Brendan turned to Steven, needing answers before they boarded the plane.

"He's a bit upset." Steven explained quietly.

"Why?"

"He was kinda hoping to spend more time with you." Steven told him, blue eyes wide and concerned.

Brendan sighed heavily. "He's got a life back home though, he can't drop everything for me."

"But he misses you." Steven told him as though it were obvious. "And he's worried."

"Worried? Why?" Brendan felt his breath hitch involuntarily. Steven was giving him that look; the one where he knew Brendan wouldn't drop the conversation but he desperately needed him to.

"Seamus." Steven said the name with pure venom, startling Brendan with his intensity.

"Does he… does…" Brendan trailed off, feeling the moisture leave his mouth.

"No! Not that. But he's picked up things over the years; he knows the effect your dad has on you. He's scared what might happen, so soon after getting you back."

"I'm not going anywhere." Brendan said, very quietly.

"I know that, but he doesn't. You should talk to him."

Steven slipped out of his seat then, helping Declan with the bags. Brendan paid the driver, distracted and mind racing with unanswered questions. He didn't get the chance to speak to Declan properly until their bags were checked in and they were seated in the waiting area. Steven mumbled something about getting a paper and left them to it.

"He doesn't even read them." Declan said once he was gone.

"I think we need to have a talk, son." Brendan said, straight to business. Declan looked at him in trepidation, apparently recalling the numerous times Brendan had sat him down for one of his talks, none of them ending particularly well.

"What about?"

"Steven said ye were upset earlier." Brendan began, clasping his hands in front of him.

"I might have been." Declan said evasively. "It doesn't matter."

"Of course it matters." Brendan answered tightly. "Tell me what's wrong."

Declan's eyes flickered to his face and then away. "Why won't you tell me what happened with granddad?"

Brendan visibly flinched, hands curling into fists to stop himself from shaking.

"See?" Declan said, gesturing to him. "You tense up every time I mention him."

"Deccy-"

"I'm not a kid anymore, I can take the truth." Declan breathed through his nose, psyching himself up. "Hit me with it."

Brendan looked into his face, noting with fondness how Declan had cut himself shaving this morning and remembering when he had taught him how to do it in the first place. They'd at least had that moment together. Brendan vaguely remembered Seamus teaching him to shave and how Brendan had cut himself at the chin. He'd barely flinched; at that point he was used to pain and blood and if it wasn't raging internally, it wasn't worth mentioning.

"Declan, I know ye are an adult now so ye will understand when I tell ye this. I'm not ready to explain, not yet." Brendan took a deep, shuddering breath to steady himself. "I can tell ye that yer granddad was not a good man, the very worst of men, and that it's better ye never knew him."

Declan nodded soberly. "Ste knows?"

"Yes, Steven knows." Brendan said, involuntarily looking up to catch him in his sight.

"Auntie Chez?"

"Yes."

"What about mum?"

Declan's question disarmed him momentarily.

"No, yer mum doesn't know." Brendan answered, bowing his head.

"Maybe she'd be easier on you if she did?" Declan asked quietly.

Brendan shook his head resolutely. "It was enough Steven and Cheryl knowing, I'm not… I can't-" He cut himself off, biting his knuckle hard enough to draw blood.

"I'm sorry." Declan said, grabbing his hand and holding it tightly. "But I love you, and I just want to make sure you're okay."

Brendan blinked several times, willing himself to get a grip. "I am now." He said softly, giving Declan a watery smile.

Steven came back to them at that moment, smiling apologetically. "Got you a magazine." He said to Declan. "And I got us lemon drops." He said to Brendan, perching on the edge of a seat.

"Lemon drops?" Brendan cocked an eyebrow, relaxing in Steven's presence.

"They help with the ear popping." Steven explained, popping one into Brendan's open mouth.

"Sweet." Brendan said and Steven beamed at him.

"Everything okay now?" He asked carefully. They both glanced at Declan.

"Yup." Declan said, some of his good humour back. He was flicking through his magazine with interest. Brendan peered at the front cover, starting at what he saw.

"Did ye buy my son a nude mag?" Brendan asked indignantly.

"Yeah." Steven shrugged. "I read them all the time when I was his age."

"Read? Is that what they're calling it these days?"

"Shut up, Dad." Declan grinned. "Ste, this is mint. Thanks."

"Anytime." Steven grinned, nudging Brendan in the side.

Brendan tutted but said no more, checking their tickets again.

They boarded the plane with minimal fuss, Steven bouncing in his seat in agitation the moment they buckled up.

"Sit still, Steven." Brendan told him, glancing over at Declan opposite them.

"I get dead twitchy on planes." Steven explained, leg jumping up and down for effect.

"I noticed last time we went to Dublin."

"You mean came back from Dublin."

"Yeah." Brendan paused. "What was it like, coming over by yerself?" He asked curiously.

"Terrifying." Steven let out a breathy laugh. "When you're on a plane you can't change your mind and turn back. I had to proper psyche myself up on the way, and when I went to find the hotel."

"I'm sorry ye didn't find me the way ye should have." Brendan mumbled, embarrassed.

"Please don't remind me." Steven closed his eyes as though warding himself off from the memory.

Brendan gave a low chuckle. "It could have been worse."

"How?" Steven asked incredulously.

"We could have been… ye know…" Brendan trailed off, wishing he hadn't spoken by the look of pure rage on Steven's face.

"I should of killed him right there." He said darkly, not really meaning it. "Or punched his stupid, smug face in."

"Steven." Brendan said firmly, hand on his arm. "Don't upset yerself."

"Was he shit? Tell me he was shit." Steven whined, growing more petulant.

"Awful, nothing on ye." Brendan said loyally. He tried to hide his smirk but Steven saw it peeking through.

"It ain't funny! He's a bloody McQueen!"

"Ye say that like it's a disease."

"Well isn't it?"

"Point."

Steven began to smile in spite of himself. "What are you like, eh?"

"I don't know, why don't ye tell me?"

"I'm not here to enlarge your ego." Steven told him plainly.

"You're here to enlarge something."

"Bren!" Steven all but squeaked, putting his hand over his mouth. Brendan licked him but Steven didn't draw his hand away. Brendan bit him gently instead, startling Steven into removing it. "Git." He murmured, crossing his arms.

"Aw, don't be jealous." Brendan leaned in close to him. "Ye know you're my boy."

"Brendan." Steven squirmed with pleasure in his seat, giving the desired effect.

They dozed the remainder of the way; Brendan hadn't slept well the night before and neither had Steven. Declan had to call out their names several times to startle them to alertness.

"It wasn't even a long flight!" He said, incredulous.

Brendan shook his head groggily; they must have only slept for half an hour and he didn't feel any better for it.

"What time's our train to Dublin?" Steven asked, stretching out like a cat.

"Couple of hours." Brendan told him, helping him to his feet.

"I should come with you." Declan said from beside them. Brendan sighed, ready to argue his case again.

"Eileen's expecting ye, we've talked about this."

"But I can just call her, tell her there's been a delay."

"Declan-"

"Please, Dad." Declan pleaded.

Brendan rubbed his forehead tiredly. "It's gonna be hard enough, Declan. I don't want ye to hear anything that man has to say."

"What's he going to say?" Declan asked, looking from Brendan to Steven. "It's a will, what can he say?"

"Sometimes they leave a letter or something." Steven shrugged. "I brought my lighter in case."

"Steven!" Brendan exclaimed, stunned.

"What?"

"Ye still own a lighter?"

Steven looked at him sheepishly. "You never know when it might come in handy."

"Alright." Brendan let it pass. Declan looked between the two of them as though they were crazy which was probably a fair assessment.

They took a taxi from the airport to Eileen's, Brendan tensed the entire way. Steven didn't fair much better either. Brendan couldn't blame him; the prospect of seeing Eileen was daunting, at best.

"I think I'll stay in the car." Steven said, sinking into his seat as though hoping it might swallow him up.

"Ye can't do that, she'll notice."

"She won't want me in her house anyway." Steven said, glancing apologetically at Declan.

"I want you there, that's all that matters." Declan said, matter-of-fact. Neither of them could argue with that.

To Steven's intense relief, Eileen wasn't home when they arrived.

"Gutted." He whispered to Brendan, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

"Steven." Brendan murmured warningly, following Declan into the kitchen.

"She's taken Paddy to football practice." He said. "She'll be back in an hour if you want to stay."

"We can't, we have that train-" Steven began but then quietened at the look on Brendan's face.

"We can stay, if ye want us to."

"No you're alright, Auntie Cheryl will worry where you are."

Brendan's stomach clenched at the thought of Cheryl. As if he didn't have enough to deal with today.

They stood awkwardly in the tiny kitchen, none of them quite knowing what to say. Steven eventually broke the silence by stepping forwards to embrace Declan.

"Don't leave it so long next time, yeah?"

"Yeah, course." Declan said, patting him on the back.

Brendan pulled Declan into his arms after, clasping him tightly to his body. "We'll be back after Dublin for a few days. Tell Eileen to expect us." Steven groaned from behind him but Brendan ignored him, holding Declan at arms length to get a final look at him. "Thanks, son."

"For what?"

"Coming to see yer old Da."

"Old? You aren't quite forty, yet." Declan grinned, prompting Brendan to ruffle his hair.

"Yeah, yeah get on with ye."

They left soon after, Steven entwining their fingers together when they were alone once more. Brendan stared down at their hands, thoughtful look on his face.

"Yer a bit obsessed, aren't ye?"

"With what?" Steven asked, wrinkling his nose.

Brendan brought their joined hands up to their faces. "This."

"I like it."

"Uh huh."

"Besides, I'm bound to get run over otherwise, or kidnapped or-"

"Steven, please. Not today." Brendan said wearily, giving his hand a squeeze.

"Okay." Steven said, deflated. He attempted to take his hand away but Brendan pulled it back, looking at him in confusion. "I thought you didn't wanna."

"I didn't say that."

"But you got all moody about it."

"It's fine, just stick close to me."

"I was only kidding about all that!"

"Yeah, I know. But it's not exactly far out of reach, is it?"

"Walker's been splatted by a train, Bren. I don't think he's lurking around any corners."

Brendan groaned, pulling them faster along the street along with their bags.

"Why are we walking anyway?"

"Station's not far."

"Still…"

"Come on, Steven. Bit of exercise won't do ye any harm."

Steven sighed, saying nothing. He must have known through the tension in Brendan's body not to push him too far today.

They took the train to Dublin, thankfully in first class. Brendan pushed their seats back so they could rest a while but Steven was restless beside him.

"What's the matter?"

"Feels funny."

"Come here." Brendan said, pushing the armrest out of the way so Steven could easily slot against his body.

"Won't people look at us?"

"I don't give a fuck." Brendan said tersely. Steven laid his head against his chest, eyelashes fluttering closed. Brendan took a moment to stare at him, stretching into several more until Steven was fast asleep.

Even with Steven safe and secure beside him, Brendan still found he couldn't rest properly. His mind was filled with images of Seamus, of his final word and will. He wished he could forget the whole thing and take Steven out for the day instead. Last time they had been in Dublin it had only been the beginning, a world of possibilities and hopes. Now Brendan wanted to cement that feeling, let Steven know that this time no one would come between them.

He must have dozed off eventually because next thing he knew, Steven was shaking him awake.

"We're here." He said groggily, hair a mess and sleep in his eyes. Brendan flattened his hair for him and tried to rub his eyes until Steven batted his hand away.

Steven rubbed his back gingerly as they collected their bags and went out onto the platform. It was only a ten minute taxi ride to the solicitor's office. Brendan looked out the window at Dublin buzzing with life and longed to escape the confines of the ordeal ahead of him. Steven was a steady and constant presence beside him. Steven kept close to him, but not too close. Even after all this time he still knew how to deal with him and Brendan found himself wondering why a man like Steven stayed with someone like him. As though reading his thoughts, Steven frowned at him, shuffling that little bit closer, his hand on the lock of the taxi.

The building was a small one, drab and grey. Brendan felt the hair at the back of his neck prickle in anticipation. Steven took his hand once more, presenting a united front. Brendan took strength from the touch and made himself walk forwards. They left their baggage at reception before they went up several flights of stairs, not speaking. Brendan heard Cheryl before he saw her. Her and Nate grew silent the moment Brendan and Steven appeared at the top of the stairs. Nate gave a small smile, hardly knowing how to react in a situation like this. Cheryl was beaming but she was crying, hand laid protectively across her protruding stomach.

"Bren!" She gasped, rushing towards him and throwing her arms around his neck.

"Watch the bump." Brendan murmured, clinging her as close as he could.

Cheryl gave a little sob, pulling away enough to cup Brendan's face in her hands.

"I can't believe you're out." She said, brushing her thumb over his jaw.

"Yeah well, can't cage an animal forever."

"You aren't an animal." She whispered, her eyes already giving her away. She was petrified, shaking in Brendan's arms.

"Shh, it's okay." He said, pulling her against him once more and rubbing her back soothingly.

"I wasn't sure whether to come today." Cheryl said when they eventually drew apart, wiping her eyes. She embraced Steven whilst Brendan shook Nate's hand.

"Got to be done." Brendan grunted, tense once more. Steven brushed his wrist with his fingertips familiarly.

"It's been a long battle even getting here, over three years and nothing."

"They said something about loose ends." Brendan said vaguely.

Cheryl nodded. "He had a lot of assets and well…" Cheryl grew uncomfortable now, twisting her hands together.

"What?"

"He made a request that the will only be read with you present, unless of course you didn't outlive him-"

"Well, isn't that nice." Brendan said dryly.

The door opened then, startling all four of them. Brendan gritted his teeth, following Cheryl and Nate inside.

"Hey." Steven said, pulling him back. "We don't have to do this."

"Ye heard what she said, won't be read without me there."

"Who cares?" Steven said angrily and Brendan had to smile.

"I need to put this to rest, Steven."

"Alright." Steven said reluctantly. "I'll be here."

"I know." Brendan said, guiding him inside the room first. The door clicked shut, the finality making Brendan's back tense uncomfortably.

The solicitor went through all of the formalities. Brendan barely focused in on his words. His leg jumped up and down in agitation. Cheryl kept side-glancing him to make sure he was okay, Nate holding one of her hands, the other resting on her stomach.

Eventually the solicitor got to the point. He was a middle-aged man, greying on top and rotund. He was professional to a point, the kind of man Seamus would appreciate.

"Mr Brady had numerous assets to investigate but overall his final balance evened out to two hundred thousand pounds."

Brendan scoffed.

"Seems strange that he had all that money when he had to gamble to get the pub." Nate noted with some trepidation.

"The majority of his funds were tied up in savings accounts which I believe he intended to keep protected, in the event of his death."

Cheryl gave a small, dry sob. Brendan's jaw clenched. This was hardly the place for her, especially pregnant. He inclined his head to tell her exactly that until Steven shook his head at him.

"He left a total of one hundred and ninety thousand pounds to you, Mrs Tenbury-Newent."

Cheryl remained silent, white and drawn. Nate appeared tense beside her.

"I don't want it." She said eventually. "Any of it."

The solicitor raised his eyebrows but otherwise feigned to comment.

"We can give it to charity, Cheryl. Maybe a children's one." He glanced at Brendan then and Brendan stiffened.

"And what about Brendan?" Cheryl asked tentatively. "And the other ten thousand pounds?"

"Mr Brady made an amendment close to the time of his death. He left ten thousand pounds to Mr Steven Hay."

Brendan was hardly conscious of the fact he was out of his seat until Steven was standing beside him, begging him to sit down.

Brendan did so, his body no longer rigid with tension but now shaking with rage.

"And to Mr Brendan Brady," He continued as though Brendan hadn't interrupted him. "He leaves his premises…" Brendan didn't hear the address, he knew without needing to.

"The pub." Brendan said weakly. "Here."

Steven's gaze snapped to his. "But it's abandoned."

"Mr Brady stipulated that you do with it as you wish; sell it, keep it. But above all else, he hoped you gained the same level of enjoyment you did when you worked there yourself."

"Excuse me?" Brendan snarled, bile rising in his throat.

"That was the message enclosed, Mr Brady. I know nothing more."

Brendan had heard enough. He had to get out of the room. It was stuffy and dank, the walls small and enclosed. He felt hot and sticky, as though hands were pressing him down. He barely registered Cheryl's stunned silence or Nate's concerned gaze. Steven followed him out, his pleas for Brendan to stop falling on deaf ears. Brendan only heard a faint buzzing sound, as though he'd been boxed round the head.

The pub? The one place Seamus had felt at home, a place he had used to ridicule and torment Brendan, to show him that he was a popular, well-liked man in the community and there was nothing Brendan could say to change that. Not only that, the place was a dead end; no hope of renovation or even a good sale from it. Brendan was stuck with it, and stuck with the reminder of Seamus. His skin crawled with revulsion, his eyes blinded with tears, hot and burning on his face. He couldn't see through the haze of pain and red.

Maybe he could have dealt with it, if it had just been the pub. But Steven. He'd left Steven money, staked a claim on his future, a claim on him. Brendan retched, hardly able to comprehend the horror of it.

He vaguely felt hands on him, trying to slow him down. He shook them off, not wanting to be touched, perhaps ever again.

"Brendan, please!" Steven's voice cut through the haze, desperate and agonised. Brendan turned suddenly, wanting to cling to that light but in his haste he had knocked straight into him, sending him crashing heavily to the floor.

There was nothing but silence then. Steven was already getting to his feet, ready to start all over again. Brendan was screaming, at least it sounded that way in the muddled state of his mind.

"I didn't… no, I didn't know ye were that close, I didn't. Steven-"

"I know, it's okay." Steven said softly, trying to get through to him. "I'm fine."

But he knew that wasn't true. Steven had winced as he drew close to him. He already had a bad back and here Brendan was, making it worse like he always did. He had to leave before he did anything else.

"I have to go." Brendan said, taking in Cheryl and Nate behind Steven, evidently alerted by the screaming.

"No, Bren don't-" Steven protested but it was already too late. Brendan tore down the steps, hardly aware of where he was going. He just knew he had to escape, one way or another.