Chapter Twenty-One

They hadn't spent more than a night at the hotel. After the desolation of the pub, Ste guided Brendan home, most of his fervour diminished in the cold air and the darkening of the night. They had laid on cold sheets, staring blankly at the ceiling and wondering what to do next. Ste had contacted a fretful Cheryl of course, keeping his tone calm and collected so as not to make her anxious.

Brendan was far from okay. Ste spent a sleepless night watching over his restless form; sweating and shaking against the nightmares that wracked through him. He dared not hold him, instead remained a constant and what he hoped, comforting presence beside him on the bed. The demons were far from laid to rest. Ste was beginning to wonder if they ever would be.

He thought a great deal that night; about Seamus, about Terry. Even Sam. All completely different fathers and contrasting indescribably to Ste and Brendan themselves. Ste knew what people thought of him; that he idolised Sam, that he trusted him above all else. Sometimes that was true, and certainly had been when Brendan's absence had played heavily on his every move. But the truth of the matter was, Ste knew the darkness of fathers, the marks they bore and inflicted on their children. He himself had never been perfect with his own children. He had lost himself when Brendan had left and it hadn't been easy re-gaining his sense of self.

He understood the absence of fathers, a consequence Brendan had attributed to his own darkness in the light of his children's innocence. Ste wasn't sure Sam claimed the same, and even if he had forgiven him for not being there, he never forgot. Neglect and absence were a part of Ste's entire being, and Sam had simply added to that shadow, had been the first one to really create it. Ste kept that tiny bit of anger inside of him, using it to ground himself when he became too fond or too trusting. They always left in the end. Fathers, lovers, even children sometimes.

He wasn't sure of his and Brendan's future but he knew he would never leave him voluntarily, and the same went for Brendan. They had created their own family with Leah and Lucas and were building one with Declan, perhaps even Paddy one day. It was something different, almost untainted, and Ste was sure as anything that he was going to cling onto it, be the guardian of them all if that was what it took. Brendan needed saving, protecting. He wasn't nearly as capable as he made people believe and Ste knew the truth; saw it in the way his brow sweated throughout the night, the way his hands groped outwards at nothing, pushing, always pushing away.

At one point in the early hours of the morning, Brendan had reached out for him. Ste slipped into his arms with ease, shaky himself with fatigue and the slow buzz that only sleep deprivation brought. It was easy to feel Brendan's weight on him and know that he was his, that they belonged to each other. It was the interferences, the damaging nature of the past that often clouded them when they themselves weren't the causing factor. Ste was tired, so tired of people deciding what was best for him, of telling him Brendan was no good, not the man for him. He often bit his tongue, wanting to remind them of the mess he had been in his absence, the terrible things he had done without him around. He remembered his parting argument with Doug and saying something of the sort, seeing the blue of Doug's eyes pale and wilt underneath Ste's unrelenting rage and destruction.

He wasn't built for a relationship like that. It wasn't in his nature. He wouldn't be domesticated. He was free in his own skin, just as much a protector of Brendan as he was of him. He knew it was only the beginning for them, that nothing would ever come easy. But that was okay, as he had always said, because it's you.

They left the hotel after a quick shower, shared. Ste had washed Brendan's hair for him, had laughed when he'd lathered up his moustache. Brendan's lips had quirked upwards, a flashing smile so beautiful and precious that it made Ste's heart clench. He didn't smile again for the rest of the day.

Nate collected them at midday; they were to stay with him and Cheryl for a few days. Ste was grateful to leave Dublin for a time. It held such wonderful memories for the both of them but Brendan needed a clear head right now. He had jumped straight back into his life after prison, hadn't given himself a moment to breathe and recollect himself. The quiet would do him good, Cheryl had said. Ste laughed; with Cheryl around that was hardly a possibility.

Nate's estate hadn't changed in the few years since Ste had last visited. It was still humungous, far too large for just him and Cheryl. Ste questioned how they would cope with a baby running around, getting lost in hidden bedrooms or falling into the expansive swimming pool. Cheryl had tutted, telling him they had it covered and he could see the nursery if he wanted to. Ste agreed, sending Brendan off to sit in the study for a while to relax.

Cheryl didn't know what kind of baby she was having and as she told Ste, she disliked the idea of gender colours anyway, and so the nursery was decorated a neutral yellow. It gave Ste a twinge, remembering a time when Leah and Lucas had been babies, staring up at him with wide, trusting eyes as though he held all the answers. They still did that, but now they had questions of their own to think about, answers to give Ste because they were so bright, so very much brighter than he had ever been at their age. He told himself it was Amy's genes, until Brendan had crept up behind him in the nursery, voice barely a whisper, and told him he was smarter than he gave himself credit for.

Ste could see the desperation in Cheryl's eyes and knew what he had to do. She hadn't been alone with Brendan since that fateful day in the club; Brendan had point blank refused visitors in prison, despite the pain it had caused the three of them.

He didn't say a word, simply touched the small of Brendan's back and gave him a gentle, reassuring smile that was only reserved for him. As he moved towards the door, Brendan pulled him back by the wrist and kissed him full on the mouth.

"Get a room you guys." Cheryl teased, but without the same joy as the first time she had said it. Her eyes were watery and sad, and Ste was reluctant to stay a moment longer.

"Talk." He told Brendan sternly. "You'll feel better, promise."

"I'll hold ye to that." Brendan murmured, reluctant to let him go at first. After a final squeeze he did so, eyes fixing on Cheryl's face when they no longer rested on Ste.

He closed the door tightly shut after him, breathing a sigh of relief. Nate was halfway down the corridor, holding what appeared to be a bible. Ste frowned at him as he drew closer, incredulous smile on his face.

"You serious?"

Nate appeared embarrassed. "Cheryl said religion was important to Brendan. I thought maybe it would help him."

Ste sighed, taking the bible out of his hands. "Never understood the point of it, me. But you're right, it means something to him, even if it causes the rest of us a whole load of trouble."

"What do you mean?" Nate asked, concerned as he led Ste into an adjacent room. How many rooms did this place have?

"Oh he once made a pact with God to stay away from me. Completely mad."

"Must have been important to him though, what changed his mind?"

Ste shrugged. "Maybe it was my charm, eh?"

Nate smiled, only a little uncomfortable. "He must love you very much." He said eventually, a little pensively. Ste picked up on his tone and it made him curious.

"You and Cheryl are okay, right?"

"Of course we are." Nate said shortly, but he wasn't offended. "It hasn't been easy though. The guilt has weighed heavily on her all these years… I thought once she found out she was pregnant some of that joy would come back to her but it hasn't quite been what I expected."

"It takes time." Ste said reasonably. "And the Brady's…well, not exactly an expressive bunch, are they?"

Nate gave him a wry smile. "And yet they talk like no one's listening." He looked Ste over then as though considering something. "You ever think it matters, your name?"

Ste wrinkled his nose; Nate was odd sometimes, he was obviously educated and had deeper thoughts than Ste could understand but then again, Ste had learnt more about himself and his state of mind in the past six years than he had in his entire lifetime.

"Brendan seems to think so." Ste answered thoughtfully. "I mean, he calls me Steven, don't he?"

"It's nice." Nate said, smiling. "Personal."

"But he calls everyone by their full name."

"But how many people call you Steven?" Nate countered. "Only those who count I suppose?"

"My mum, sometimes." Ste said, a bitter edge to his voice. "And Amy too, so I guess you're right."

"Cheryl took my last name with the barest hesitation." Nate said after a moments pause. "She said she didn't want to be a Brady anymore, said the name was cursed."

"She's probably right actually." Ste replied. "But I'd hate for Brendan to change his name, even if I'm considering changing mine."

"You are?" Nate asked in some surprise. "To your father's?"

"Maybe." Ste shrugged.

"What's in a name, eh?" Nate said, almost poetically.

"Where's that from?" Ste asked blankly.

"Shakespeare." Nate said knowledgably. He straightened. "That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet. It's Romeo and Juliet."

"Oh, right. Think I did that at school. Thought they were idiots, personally."

Nate stared at him, affronted.

"Well they faffed around, fell in love in like a day and then bumped themselves off in the end just because they couldn't be together."

"Surely you know what that feels like though?" Nate asked questioningly.

Ste shrugged. "I wasn't about to off myself though, and I doubt Brendan was either."

Nate sighed as though suddenly weighed down by something. "Look after your Brady, Ste. Trust me."

Xxx

Brendan started off by picking up a teddy bear, rolling it around and around in his hands. He could feel Cheryl's gaze on him but he wasn't compelled to look up at her. He wasn't sure he could look her in the eye.

"Three and a half years, Bren." She said quietly. She had always been the one to break the silence when they were kids. Sometimes Brendan would let her talk to him for hours on end, her getting nothing in return. It soothed him; made him forget for a while what awaited him at night. Steven did the same for him now, coupled with a different kind of affection.

"I'm sorry." He said automatically.

"I don't want you to be sorry." She said, voice raised already.

"I don't know what to say to ye." Brendan said, glancing up and away. He squeezed the teddy tightly in his hands.

"You can start by telling me how you are." Cheryl said, more calmly this time.

Brendan shrugged. "Alright."

"Just alright?"

"Coming back here…" Brendan trailed off, uncertain.

"Talk to me." Cheryl pleaded, taking a step closer to him.

"I can't." Brendan said, voice rasping. "It's too hard, too… sore. Yeah, sore."

Cheryl's face creased with anxiety.

"Hey, don't worry about me though." He said suddenly, taking in her condition. "Ye have better things to worry about than me."

"You're all I've worried about for years." Cheryl whispered, silent tears running down her face. "What you did for me… it went beyond what a brother should do for his sister."

"I had to, Chez. What else was I supposed to do? Let ye lose yer life to that place? No. No, I couldn't do that."

"But look at the effect it's had on you!" Cheryl cried, becoming more distressed.

"I've been okay. Anne, she's been great. Steven too of course. His dad, not so much." He laughed without real humour. "I get by."

"And then you came here." Cheryl said, stepping even closer. "And he's here, isn't he? Wherever you look, whatever you touch…" Cheryl stared off, horrified.

"Sis-"

"I see him every night, Bren. I wake up to his face, laughing at me. He's under my skin; everything I do, everything I feel…"

Brendan shivered at her words, words which resonated so much with his own feelings that it made him sick.

"You have to block him out, find ways…" Brendan tried, somewhat unhelpfully. "Used to be times tables for me when… well, ye know…"

Cheryl drew in a sharp intake of breath and Brendan knew already he had said too much. He had meant to protect her from all of this but life had a way of kicking you sometimes when you were already down.

"I can't block him out, I don't want to. I know what I did. How can I look my child in the face knowing that I killed their great-grandfather?"

Brendan shuddered involuntarily. "Better off."

"I know, Nate told me what you said, remember? It's stayed with him all this time, especially now. He has nothing but gratitude for you."

"Gratitude?" Brendan grunted. "I don't deserve any."

"Of course you do!" Cheryl said, barrelling forwards the remainder of the distance between them and grabbing his hands in hers. "You have no idea how much we appreciate what you did. I wouldn't be having this little one without you." Cheryl rubbed her stomach proudly. "You're my big brother, and you did protect me in the end like no other brother could."

"I introduced ye to a monster, I ruined yer childhood."

"No, he did that. And he's rotting in Hell for it." Cheryl said with pure venom. "Sometimes I'm not sorry for it; I'm glad I rid him out of this world for you. He hasn't got a hold on you anymore, Bren. That money he left, the pub… it's nothing. Bricks and paper and nothingness."

"Steven said the same." Brendan said quietly, Cheryl's words seeping into his very soul.

"He's right, always is that one." Cheryl beamed. "I'm so pleased you found each other again."

"Yeah, well… inevitable, isn't it?"

"With you two? Yeah." Cheryl laughed then, appearing much brighter, more like her old self.

They passed a few moments, staring at each other and wanting to say so much more. Cheryl opened her mouth to speak again until suddenly her expression twisted into one of confusion and fear.

"Chez?" Brendan squeezed her hands, the teddy bear long abandoned on the floor by their feet. "What is it?"

"Get Nate." Cheryl said, completely stunned. "My water's just broke."