AN: I think I keep writing marmite stories.

So, a few of you have said that you can't keep reading if such and such happens. Obviously, I'm not going to tell you here whether it does or not, but I will say I love Stendan. I started writing fic because there wasn't any on TV and I physically needed them. I now understand why the writers find it hard, they are so volatile! But I love them. So, even if I can't tell you how it ends, know that. I adore Stendan.

Thanks for all the reviews! Keep them coming!

Brendan pounded on the door, expecting it to fall in from the fury in his fists. It rattled in its hinges, but when it finally gave way it was only opened by the confused face it revealed.

"Bren…" Steven started, but didn't even finish the name. Brendan grabbed his collar, his neck, he wasn't sure and thrust him backwards until he hit the wall.

"Did ye do it? Did ye touch him? Did ye?" He had no control over his voice, he must have shouted the words. He saw his spit hit the terrified face before him.

"Did I what?" Steven's reply was angry, sassy, but betrayed by the fear on his face.

"Did you touch Padraig? Did ye?" He was still shouting, but other sounds were beginning to permeate his consciousness, break through the thought of anyone hurting his son; a child screaming, a baby bawling, his elder son's voice shouting 'Dad.' He could see Steven's eyes, and within them, even through the fear, that same disappointment; the one Brendan had caused again and again, by every denial, every punch.

That look only fuelled his anger. He tightened his grip at the sight, and the tears that were forming.

"DID YOU TOUCH PADRAIG?" he screamed.

Steven's tears were falling now. God, were they tears of guilt? They couldn't be, could they?

Declan was shouting at him.

"Think about it Dad! When would he have? They were never on their own!"

Tears were falling down Brendan's face now.

"In the bathroom! He said in the bathroom!"

"So, in front of his son? In front of Lucas?"

He was riddled with confusion, disgust and anger. He had to know, he had to be sure, he knew what it was like to not be believed. His hands were loosening on Steven, his thoughts wild, he turned to the bawling toddler.

He had only taken two steps when Steven was in front of him, pushing him back.

"You stay away from my son! You don't go near him! Do you hear me?"

Brendan almost didn't stop. Steven was already pushing him away, and when Brendan tried to push him aside, the fist came out.

Steven had never punched him before. He'd tried once, and he'd hit him from behind with a baseball bat, but never really tried to fight him. Probably because he knew he couldn't win. Brendan felt the punch, but more its surprise than its pain. He put his hand to his face.

Steven seemed to notice what he'd done at the same moment. He paled and stepped away from Brendan. "I'm sorry," he said, "I'm sorry Brendan." He looked confused, like he was trying to decide if he should protect the kids or lead Brendan away from them, but mostly scared, as though he was expecting the beating of his life. Was that guilt? Brendan was falling apart at the seams.

"Did you molest Padraig?" he growled.

Steven looked shocked and disgusted by the question. Maybe that was the first moment he'd understood what he was being asked. "Of course I didn't!" he shouted.

"What on Earth's going on?"

An ashen faced Amy had just arrived home. She took in the screaming children, the heavy breathing, the tension, and jumped to the most obvious conclusion about what had happened. She glared at Brendan.

"Did you beat him up again? In front of the kids? In front of your kid?"

Brendan knew he hadn't; he'd done something just as bad.

Steven answered. "No, Amy…"

"Then why are they screaming?" she demanded, going to them and letting them cling to her, holding them protectively.

"Paddy's accused Ste of … something." It was Declan who answered. He was probably the only one able.

Amy frowned. "Of what?"

"Of…" but even Declan seemed unsure of how to answer now. Steven finished keeping his eyes on Brendan.

"Of touching him."

Amy's eyes widened. "You mean…"

"Yeah."

"Well he's obviously lying!" Amy exclaimed, glaring at Brendan.

Jesus, how had she come to that decision so quickly and easily? Maybe because it wasn't her kid they were talking about. She'd never had the red mist suffocating everything else.

"Amy, could you take Leah and Lucas out somewhere please? Somewhere they can calm down?" Mike's maybe." Steven's voice was so cold, so quiet. He could barely look at the kids or their mother. "Please," he repeated. Brendan, too, stared at the floor in shame.

"OK," Amy replied with dignity. "We will be back in two hours, and HE better be gone."

It took her time to leave. Brendan remembered that from when his kids were little, every time they went anywhere it could be like packing for a weekend away. In that time, as he stood awkwardly in Steven's kitchen, he felt his anger ebbing away, replacing itself with shame and confusion.

"I need to see Paddy," Dec said suddenly, and walking out. Brendan thought about following, but Dec suddenly turned. "Er, we probably should have said, but we didn't wanna upset anyone and… well… Paddy was sent home from school one day last week… and the first person to answer the call was… there was no one at home except Granddad."

Then he turned and left. Brendan saw Steven freeze at the words, but then seem to shrink, like he was closing in on himself.

Amy left noisily, the kids still clinging to her. Steven shrank even more at the sight.

There was silence for a while in the empty kitchen, as both men stood stiff with shame or misery. Eventually Steven said "You can't come here anymore, Brendan."

"Steven…" Brendan started.

"I can't let you scare them like that. I can't let me behave like that in front of them, I can't…"

The tears fell now. Brendan could see them flowing, unstoppable, heartbreaking.

"Did he just tell you or… or anyone else?"

Steven's voice was tiny, like it came from so far away. Maybe it did, maybe Steven was further away than he'd ever been. Maybe Brendan would never be allowed to just be with him.

"Cheryl told me…"

Before he even finished, Steven slammed his fist into the wall, and let out a sound of fury and misery. It shocked Brendan. It was usually him who lost his temper, he'd never seen Steven like that.

Suddenly, Steven was shouting, "I've got kids! They'll take them away, put them in care homes! I'll be hated Brendan! I'll never be allowed to see 'em. Even if we can prove I didn't… God, this'll destroy me!" Realisation hit him, "Like he said. He said he was gonna destroy me and he has! You know what they do to people like that… they'll…" and suddenly he stopped. He was staring at the fridge, which was covered with the kids drawings, and Leah's first attempts at writing. The horror of losing them must have hit home as he stared at it.

Brendan took a step forward, intending to offer support, or something. The movement seemed to snap Steven out of his trance. With the barest glance at Brendan, he snatched something off the fridge and shoved it into his pocket.

"I…" he said, "I'm going… Don't follow me Brendan!"

And he too walked out, leaving Brendan alone in the silent flat.