Chapter Twenty Eight

Ste remembered the feeling of wiping blood from his face, of sitting down carefully to avoid wincing in pain. He remembered the physical bruises of attack and the way he would walk around, shrunken in on himself in shame. He wasn't that person anymore. He wouldn't allow himself to be. The distressing part was however, neither was Brendan.

Ste had barely moved since Brendan had left the club. He could feel Mitzeee's hands on him, guiding him to a chair. He felt numb. His dad was kneeling in front of him, hands against his knees, asking him if he was okay. Ste could hear a ringing in his ears and only that amidst the distorted voices around him. He gulped a few times as though he couldn't find air. Eventually he managed to speak.

"I need to go find him." He said roughly, beginning to feel himself return to normal.

"What?" Sam's face swam into his line of vision, horrified and concerned. "Did you see what he did?"

"With all due respect, he didn't do anything." Mitzeee said quietly beside him.

Sam stared at her in disbelief. "If you hadn't of come in he'd have battered me."

"I don't believe that." Mitzeee said firmly, standing up and taking Phoenix by the hand. "Excuse us, Ste."

Ste nodded vaguely, trying to register her words.

"Steven," Sam leaned forwards once they were gone. "You can't go back to that man. You know what he's capable of."

"I've always known that, never stopped me before." Ste said distantly.

"It's different now. He…" Sam trailed off, biting his lip. "I'll take you home. We'll talk about this."

"No."

Sam sat back on his heels, letting out a long breath. "What do you want to do?"

"I told you; find him."

"And what will that achieve?"

"He'll be hurting." Ste said, voice scratchy and unclear. "He'll think that's it."

"Isn't it?" Sam pressed, eyes blazing with ferocity.

"No." Ste let out a breathy laugh. He looked up then, fixing his gaze with Sam's. "I'll come back. I just need to find out what happened, that's all."

"Steven, I don't think-"

"My choice." Ste insisted, standing up. "You don't understand."

"I understand perfectly well." Sam said grimly.

Ste shook his head. "I'll see you later."

He ignored Sam's protests, going straight out of the club door and down the steps. He wasn't sure where Brendan would go to lick his wounds. It was possible he'd already left the village and if that was the case Ste had no hope of finding him. Deciding to work on gut instinct, he went straight home. He knew it was a sanctuary to Brendan in a way his old place never could be now.

"Bren?" Ste opened his door quietly, eyes darting around the corner into the living room. Silence. He walked quickly through the hallway to their bedroom, opening the door a crack. There was a lump underneath the covers. Ste sighed with relief, pulling the duvet back enough to get in himself, replacing it over their heads when he was fully covered. "Bren?" He repeated.

The older man was hunched in on himself, breathing hard with red, puffy eyes. He didn't seem to see Ste at first but when he did he simply stared at him, waiting for Ste to talk.

"What happened?" Ste asked, voice low as though he were speaking to a child.

"Samuel." Brendan said croakily. "Where is he?"

"Not here." Ste replied, shuffling closer. "What happened?" He asked again.

Brendan closed his eyes. "Nothing. Nothing happened."

"It didn't look like nothing."

Brendan opened his eyes again. They looked impossibly blue. "He wound me up… said things. I… lost it."

"I thought as much." Ste sighed.

"I didn't touch him, Steven. I stopped."

"Because we came in?"

"No! Because I thought… I remembered you."

"Me?"

"I never used to remember, afterwards." Brendan said vaguely. "When I hit ye, I just sort of blanked it out, ye know? But it came back to me then and I realised… I realised the damage I could do. I didn't want to do it again."

"And you didn't." Ste told him.

"I could have." Brendan whispered. "I'm sorry."

"What did he say?" Ste said, ignoring his apology.

"The usual, ye know…" Brendan looked to the top of the duvet still covering them. "That he wants me away from ye, that ye won't choose me."

"He said I won't choose you?" Ste repeated, stunned.

"Not those words, as good as."

"Brendan." Ste said tightly, holding his face in his hands. Brendan was reluctant to look him in the eye. "Brendan." He said again. "Where am I?"

"Here." Brendan breathed, as though he could hardly believe it.

"Exactly."

Brendan blinked, staring at Ste like he'd never seen him before. "Ye aren't mad?"

"Of course I'm mad. I'm fuming. What else did he say?"

"My dad…" Brendan hunched in on himself even further. "He mentioned my dad."

Ste cursed under his breath. "Right, listen to me a minute. No matter what my dad says, that doesn't give you the right to batter him, okay?"

"I wasn't, I wouldn't." Brendan said hastily. "I'm not that person anymore."

"I know." Ste said, softer now. "This can't happen again though."

Brendan nodded furiously.

Ste pulled him against his body, Brendan's head cradled against his chest. Brendan began to sob, gut-wrenching cries of pain.

"I thought I lost ye."

"No." Ste shook his head, holding him tighter. "Not gonna happen."

"I haven't been dealing… with stuff."

Ste pulled away a little in surprise. "Since prison?"

"I blocked it all out in there. The psychiatrists barely got a thing out of me. I couldn't open up, I could only control myself. That's all I'm doing; controlling myself."

"Who can you open up to?" Ste asked quietly.

"You." Brendan laughed a little, humourlessly.

"Anyone else?"

Brendan hesitated then. "There was someone, once."

"Who?"

"A priest. Father Desmond."

Ste allowed this to register. It wasn't really a surprise.

"Could we find him again?"

"Do ye think he'd want to talk to a murderer?"

"Didn't he before?" Ste countered, face open and honest.

"Fair point." Brendan wiped his eyes hastily. "What happens now?"

"Nothing." Ste said simply. "We stay right here. Why did you come here anyway?"

"I wanted ye." Brendan admitted. "But I didn't know if I had a right to ask."

"You do." Ste said softly, pulling Brendan against him once more. "You really do."

Xxx

Ste waited until Brendan had fallen asleep before he moved away. His body twitched uneasily in sleep, like he was fighting some invisible pull. Ste smoothed the hair back from his forehead, kissing the skin it exposed. He heard the front door open and close quietly. Pulling the duvet back so Brendan's head remained above the covers, Ste slipped out of bed.

Sam was standing in the middle of the room, looking anxious and wary.

"Everything okay, son?" He asked quickly.

Ste closed the bedroom door behind him, sighing and straightening to his full height. He suddenly felt much older.

"This has to stop."

"I couldn't agree more." Sam responded, taking a step towards him.

Ste held up a hand. "You need to stop."

"Me?" Sam asked incredulously.

"If you can't accept that me and Brendan are together then you can't stay here."

"Steven." Sam was gaping at him incredulously. "I'm your father."

"Him in there, that's my life." Ste said, feeling suddenly empowered. "You need to understand that and let me live my life."

"I just want you safe." Sam told him, now frozen in place.

"I know you do. Brendan has his problems but he's working hard to get past it. You need to as well."

Sam continued to gape at him, hardly knowing what to say.

"I'm sorry, Dad. I do love you, you know I do. But you have to let me make my own choices. I can't be controlled, okay? I just can't."

Sam nodded numbly. "I understand. I didn't mean for things to go this far."

"Neither did Brendan, so maybe you two can work something out."

Sam nodded again, more hesitantly now. He looked intensely distressed.

"Come here." Ste held out his arms, feeling once again like the grown up in the situation. Sam bundled him into his arms, almost lifting him off the floor.

"I love you." Sam said, squeezing him tightly.

"I know you do." Ste closed his eyes. He should feel lucky, cherished, but it wasn't easy being loved by these two men. "Things will get better. Just… this can't happen tomorrow, okay? Amy would freak if she knew. She could take the kids away." His voice broke on his final words, the reality hitting him suddenly in the chest.

Sam pulled back, eyes sad. "Of course. She won't know a thing."

Ste nodded, pulling away completely and giving Sam a small grin. "I'll put some tea on, yeah?"

Sam smiled back at him. "Where's Brendan?"

"Asleep. I think today was a bit much for him."

"There's a lot I don't know, I get that now."

Ste nodded, not wanting to press it. "I'll stick the oven on."

Sam stepped back to allow him room to pass. "Things can only get better, right?"

Ste glanced over his shoulder. "I hope so."

Xxx

Brendan opened his eyes carefully, his eyelashes sticking together. They were still sore and wet from the tears that had fallen earlier. He rolled himself out of bed, going straight to the bathroom to splash his face with cold water. When he went out into the living room, Samuel was sitting alone in the dark, evidently deep in thought. He glanced up when Brendan entered.

"Where's Steven?" Brendan asked before Samuel even opened his mouth.

"Went to Mitzeee's to let her know what was going on, she was a bit upset."

"Right." Brendan sat on the edge of the chair, as far from Samuel as possible.

"You've got some people who love you there." Samuel said quietly. It wasn't said maliciously, more thoughtful. Brendan frowned at him.

"Ye aren't one of them? I'm shocked."

Samuel laughed a little, looking at Brendan seriously. "Earlier was a mistake."

"Yes." Brendan agreed, offering no more than that.

"Steven says we have to get on, otherwise that's it."

"For me or you?"

"Guess." Samuel looked away, sad smile in place. "My son clearly cares about you a great deal. I can't change that. I only ask that you allow me to stay by his side."

"That's down to Steven, not me."

Samuel looked at him again, expression giving nothing away. "Right, yeah."

"Amy's here tomorrow." Brendan said, realisation dawning on him.

"Yes." Samuel agreed wearily. "Hopefully we can put this sorry mess behind us, for the kids' sakes."

Brendan nodded, staring at his hands. "Those kids mean the world to Steven. More than either of us."

"As it should be." Samuel said, looking at him carefully. "You do anything for your kids."

"I know." Brendan said, not defensively. He was so tired. "I think I'll wait for Steven in our room."

"Brendan?" Samuel said quickly the moment he stood up.

Brendan turned back, resigned for the parting shot.

"If I said anything I shouldn't have today, it was only down to ignorance."

Brendan grunted in reply. "Alright." He said eventually.

Samuel nodded as though satisfied. Brendan wasn't sure he echoed the feeling.

Xxx

Later that evening, Sam went for a walk outside. He'd heard Steven come in and go to Brendan. After that, there was nothing. He allowed the cool night air to refresh him, a million thoughts whirling around his head.

He had meant his words to Brendan. He was beginning to wonder the details of their time together he hadn't been a part of. He wasn't sure he'd ever know the truth, about anything. Needless to say, he was still wary. Brendan hadn't said in so many words but it was abundantly clear that Sam was on thin ice with Steven and one bad word could lose him for good. Sam wondered if Brendan would use that knowledge to his advantage and get rid of him. If the ball was in the other court, Sam was sure he would have.

He decided to wait and see how things played out. He knew he had a lot of making up to do with Steven. The poor boy had seen enough violence and upset to last him a lifetime. Amy arriving tomorrow would set things right. She was a good girl. A good influence.

Sam stopped down the alleyway, resting against the wall. It was times like these he wished he still smoked. After his wife had been diagnosed with cancer he'd given up. As a tribute to her memory, he'd continued not to smoke even after her passing. It still pained him every day. He'd believed then he would be in this world on his own forever, until he'd found Steven again.

Sam leaned his head back, feeling his Adam's apple bob when he swallowed thickly. With each passing moment he became more paranoid. Maybe Brendan would do everything in his power to part him and Steven, especially now he'd seen Sam's true intentions. The doubt nagged at him, suffocating his every thought. He would have to be more careful, more subtle.

He beat his fist against the wall in frustration, wishing that things were easy, that Steven was his only priority. He laughed a little at that thought. Of course Steven should be his only priority; he was his son, his family. He had to make sure it remained that way. But as for how… he didn't know.