Chapter Forty Two

Ste was eight years old again, cowering against the wall, arms raised to protect his face. It would be harder to lie to the teachers about what was going on if they saw the bruises. He was a write off to them anyway, never stood a chance with parents like Pauline and Terry.

Now he was twenty, cowering in the cellar, ribs cracked and breath rasping. Brendan was telling him how disgusting it was, what they felt for each other, but it wasn't possible, was it? For something to feel that good and be so wrong?

Twenty six years old and here he was, standing in the middle of his home, that familiar feeling of dread settling in the pit of his stomach and threatening to resurface into something unimaginable. This time he did not cower. This time he stood strong.

"What do you want, Terry?" He asked, keeping his voice level.

"What do I want? That's a very loaded question." Terry snarled, circling Ste like he was a caged animal.

"If you've come here to beat me up, just get on with it." Ste said, forcing himself to stand still and firm even though his instincts were screaming at him to run.

"Bravery is it? Do you know, Brendan didn't give me the chance for that inside, when he was having me beaten up daily."

"Well now you know how it felt for us then, don't you?" Ste said, allowing his emotions to get the better of him.

Terry smiled nastily. "Same old sob story is it? Poor Ste, couldn't make anything of himself because of his piss poor parents, scraping every penny together to make sure he had food to eat and clothes on his back."

"That's bullshit," Ste spat. "That money went on booze and nothing else."

"Is that right?" Terry's eyes flashed dangerously. "You don't think your mum tried, is that it?"

Ste swallowed thickly. "Are we really gonna talk about her?"

"Why? Does it bother you?" Terry's expression became guarded, haunted. "Speaking of the dead can do that to a person."

"That's right, she's dead. So what do you want?"

Terry's eyes swept the room, no doubt looking at the various pictures Ste had around the flat. His eyes settled on a recent one of Ste and Sam. His lip curled in distaste.

"Sam the hero. Sweeping in and making a mockery of Pauline's memory. She had her reasons for keeping him away you know."

"That's what she told me but I haven't really seen anything so far," Ste said, ignoring Sam's penchant for over-protectiveness and downright meddling.

"You will one day, I'm sure." Terry stepped closer, causing Ste to take one step back. He ignored the movement, picking up a picture of Pauline instead. "It makes me sick you know, that you were the last one to see her alive."

Ste swallowed the bile in his throat.

"I know you killed her." Terry's voice was low, gruff. "I didn't find out until I left prison but still, you didn't exactly keep it quiet."

"I handed myself in, I did the right thing."

"The right thing?" Terry began to laugh. "You think killing your own mother was the right thing to do?"

"She asked me to, she was in pain." Ste saw Terry's eyes soften at that, momentarily disarmed.

His expression hardened again quickly. "You should have fought for her, like she did for you."

"Oh yeah," Ste laughed humourlessly. "Fought for me so hard she let me be battered by you time and time again. She was no saint, Terry. Stop re-writing history, yeah?"

"You watch your tone, boy." Terry snarled, raising his fist warningly.

"What are you gonna do? Hit me? You think I care?" Ste, against his better judgement, moved closer. "It means nothing to me anymore, things I've been through. Do your worst."

Terry stared him down, face twisted unpleasantly. The first blow came to the side of Ste's face, sending him flying to the floor with the force of it.

"You asked for it."

"You're not wrong there," Ste grinned, spitting up blood onto the carpet. "If there's one thing I've learnt though in all these years it's that I'm not the problem here."

"Oh, you reckon?"

"I know why you're here, Terry. You want answers. You want to know why I killed her. I already told you though, she asked me to."

"That's not good enough." Terry spat, landing a kick to Ste's stomach. He doubled over, curling in on himself.

"You can beat me up all you want but it won't bring her back. It won't change what you did to her."

"Shut up, what do you know?"

"More than you. Do you know what she told me in the end? She told me that she loved me, did she ever tell you that?"

Terry paused in his jerky movements, adrenaline crashing around him. "Course she did."

"Towards the end? Before she left you?" Ste smiled bitterly. "She didn't even mention you when she died, that's how much you meant to her."

"Shut your mouth!" Terry shouted, sweeping several pictures onto the floor, frames shattering around Ste.

"Truth hurts does it?"

"Says the queer!" Terry bent down beside him, voice lowering to a near whisper. "I know that husband of yours used to knock you about. What is it, he gets a free pass because you're fucking and the rest of us can swivel?"

"Brendan's changed, unlike you," Ste said, pushing himself up onto his elbows. "He's twice the man you'll ever be."

Terry clapped his hands gleefully. "Is that right? Where is he then? Why isn't he here?" Terry produced something from behind his back. "See this? He thought this was meant for you." He shoved the note in Ste's face, giving him time to read as he spoke. "But it wasn't. I saw your wonderful dad leave earlier and I knew it was only a matter of time before one of you left the flat as well. I was hoping Brendan would make my job easy and go himself but it had to be you, so I improvised."

"Brendan thinks I'm with you at the folly?" Ste caught up, feeling sick.

"And who knows what he might find there, hm?" Terry's eyes flashed sadistically.

The hairs on the back of Ste's neck stood up. "What have you done to him?"

"Who says I've done anything?" Terry smiled. "I'm sure he's perfectly safe, for now."

"What have you done to him?" Ste repeated, feeling the strength return to his muscles. "If you've hurt him I will kill you."

Terry laughed. "Kill me? You could barely land a punch when you were old enough to really do it, what makes you think you can now?"

"You don't get love do you? What you felt for mum, that wasn't love. What Brendan and me have, that is."

"As touching as this is…" Terry's face flickered with revulsion.

"Tell me where he is!" Ste shouted, growing angrier and more panicked by the second.

"Like I said, he's safe. For now. It's touching really, how willingly he threw himself into danger for you. Very noble. Or perhaps stupid, hard to say."

"TELL ME WHERE HE IS!" Ste screamed, and watched as Terry's humour drained from his face, hands reaching for around his throat.

"You're really beginning to annoy me." His grip tightened, cutting off Ste's air supply.

"B-Br-"

"That's right, call for your lover. Chances are he's already dead."

Ste's fingers closed on something sharp, his skin feeling the prick of something glass-like. He enclosed his hand around it regardless, bringing it with as much force as he could muster across the back of Terry's head. Terry's grip immediately loosened, his expression almost comical in the picture of shock he wore. He fell to the side, lifeless and limp.

Ste breathed out, choking a little in short, heaving gasps. He brought the item to his face, noting his mum smiling back at him. At some point, everything went black.

Xxx

It took Brendan an entire trip around the village to realise that he'd been tricked. He hadn't gone to Samuel, not wanting to alarm the man before he found Steven's true whereabouts. The reality of it hit him in the gut. It was all a plan, a ruse to get Brendan out of the way. How could he have been so stupid?

As he sprinted back to the flat, he wondered if it was already too late. He stopped for a moment, feeling grief tear at him unbidden, almost unable to continue. No. There was still a chance. He forced himself to move, chest heaving with exhaustion and senses dulled by a dizzy, sick feeling that had overcome him. He somehow made it back to the flat, kicking the door open with a sudden surge of overpowering strength.

He took in Steven, curled in on himself on the kitchen floor and rocking back and forth. His face was bleeding and the way he held himself told Brendan he'd likely broken a few ribs. His knowledge of such a thing made him feel sick all over again but he pushed it aside, crouching hastily by Steven's side.

"Thank God you're alright." He breathed, hands hesitant as he checked him for further injury. "Ye are, right? You're okay? Steven?"

Steven's eyes snapped to his then, wide and unseeing. "I've killed him." He said in a very small, childlike voice.

"What?" Brendan looked behind him and saw Terry sprawled on the floor, blood on the carpet and on him. His gaze snapped back to Steven before he too turned around. "It's okay," He said, hands finding their way to Steven's shoulders. "It's gonna be okay."

"No," Steven shook his head, silent tears falling down his cheeks. "I've already killed someone before, they'll have me for this."

"No one's having ye, okay?" Brendan pulled him into his arms, holding him as he sobbed. "Nothing's gonna happen to ye. Nothing. I won't let it."

"You can't fix this," Steven sobbed, clutching Brendan's arm with a tightness that almost hurt.

"Of course I can." Brendan pulled away enough to look into his face. "Hey," He said softly, bringing Steven's focus to him and not on the body behind him. "I'm superman, right? I can do anything."

Steven shook his head resolutely. "You said you weren't anymore. Remember that time you told me?"

"It doesn't matter what I said, it's true, okay? I was superman for Cheryl and now I'm gonna be superman for you."

Steven's expression slowly gained recognition. His eyes locked with Brendan's, terrified. "No."

"Steven, it's okay-"

"I said no!" Steven pushed at him roughly, almost toppling him over with the surprise of it. He held firm, hands gripping his shoulders again.

"I have to, I have to."

"You don't! This is my mess."

"Your mess is my mess, ye know that. I'm yer husband now."

"That doesn't mean you have to take the fall for me, for anyone!" Steven leaned forward, blue eyes shining with tears. "You can't leave me again, I can't do it."

"You're stronger than ye think," Brendan said softly. "Ye have yer dad."

"I don't give a fuck! I want you!" Steven launched himself at Brendan suddenly, making both of them topple to the ground. Steven was on top of him, his intentions unclear. Brendan grabbed his wrists, attempting to hold him still enough to get through to him.

"It has to be this way! I'm not letting ye get sent down for this!"

"Neither am I!" Steven struggled but it was pointless. Brendan was bigger and stronger than him and within moments he had Steven pinned to the ground, careful not to aggravate any of his injuries. "You don't understand!" Steven cried, eyes scrunched up in agony.

"I understand perfectly well," Brendan grunted, straddling Steven now on the ground. "But I love ye, that's it."

"No," Steven whined, head falling to the side. "If you loved me you wouldn't do this. You don't leave someone you love, twice."

"I'm doing this for you, I have to."

"You don't have to do anything! If you wanted to get rid of me so badly you only had to say so!"

"Now you're being fucking ridiculous."

"Maybe it's the only way to get through to you!"

Steven brought his knee up, Brendan jerking out of the way before he hit his intended spot. In the distraction, Steven managed to stand, making his way over to Terry.

"My DNA's all over him! It's done! It's finished!"

"No!" Brendan grabbed him around the waist, pulling him into his arms. "It's never done!"

"You're hurting me!" Steven cried out and Brendan immediately released him like he'd been burned.

"I'm sorry," He said, utterly horrified. "I forgot ye were hurt. Jesus, I'm sorry."

"Brendan-" Steven reached out to him, only inches away from Terry now.

A groan sounded and the two of them jumped backwards, staring at each other in horror.

Not so dead after all it seemed.