AN: Some of you wil be pleased that actually, this isn't the end of the story.

Padraig sometimes wondered if his Dad and Ste were capable of 'slow'. They seemed to start living in each other's pockets very quickly. He guessed some people were just meant to be together, and though Padraig still wished sometimes that those people were his Ma and his Dad, he could see how much better this was in reality. Towards the end, the only conversations his parents seemed capable of with each other had been stiff and tense. After that, there'd only really been shouting, accusations and avoidance. But his Dad's time with Ste was completely different. They laughed and joked and flirted. Sometimes Ste sulked, or threw a strop even a toddler would be shocked by, and Dad might get annoyed and roll his eyes, but Paddy knew neither of them would change the smallest thing about the other.

Declan was being less of a git too. He'd started talking to Paddy (without biting his head off much) as soon as he'd understood the plan was not evil, and since it had worked had been almost nice to him. Well, as nice as an older brother could be without breaking the law of siblings. They still wound each other up and had fights. They weren't girls.

Of course there was still some tension. And Paddy had been having nightmares.

There were a few that would comeback in various ways. One was where he was hurt and needed help, and he went to everybody, Ma, Dad, Cheryl, Declan, Grandma, one at a time, and each one turned their backs on him in disgust. One had an old shark that tried to eat him and spoke in his Grandfather's voice. But the worst ones weren't really nightmares. They were flashbacks. Ste on that bed, naked and hurt, grasping his stomach while Paddy's own Grandfather undid his fly.

Sometimes his Granddad didn't stop when Padraig came in. Instead he might trap him in the room, the three of them together, to the sound of Ste's misery.

And sometimes he was Ste, held down, scared, still. Those were the times he woke up crying.

That wasn't the worst though. The worse were where he was the one on top, holding Ste down, making him cry, hurting him, seeing the man beneath him, drinking in his tears and his body.

He would wake up shaking and cold, desperate to shower.

Declan noticed the night time trips to the bathroom, asked if he needed help, like he was some sissy girl, scared of monsters under the bed. Padraig told him where to shove it, interfering git, thinking he knew best just because he was two years older. Git.

Time passed. Their Dad was making a better effort to see them, coming over more often, sometimes with Ste, sometimes by himself. Paddy preferred it when it was just Dad though. He did want them to be happy, but having Ste with them kind of freaked him out. It made the nightmares worse, and Paddy couldn't stop thinking about them whenever there was a quiet moment when Ste was there.

He suspected Ste felt similarly though. At first he thought Ste was just colder since the incident; less cheerful, more fearful of everyone. Then he realised, Ste's body language changed whenever he realised Paddy was there. He would catch worried looks from Ste in just his direction. It wasn't dislike – it was a wariness and embarrassment, and Padraig couldn't blame him, on either count.

Maybe it would get less in time.

It would take ages though. Almost a year after the incident, Dad arranged to come over for a weekend, with Ste and Ste's kids. Paddy was very worried. It was going to be a big deal – Ste and Ma, at the same time, in the same place. Declan didn't seem worried, though.

They walked to school together one morning, Paddy sulkily kicking a stone along, as his brother slouched happily along beside him

"What's got your knickers in a twist?" the older brother asked.

Padraig just glared at him. He needed to glare more. He'd been getting out of practice.

Dec didn't wait for an answer anyway, "Oh, get over it! It'll be fine."

Paddy grunted.

"Hey, get lost, yeah? I don't wanna be seen with my little brother."

Paddy glared again, "Yeah? As if I wanna be seen with a freak like you!"

"Yeah," Dec said, annoyingly unbothered, "don't want to make all your mates jealous of how cool your brother is." And the older boy jogged off to catch up with a group of his mates, before Paddy could come up with a witty reply.

Paddy grumbled a bit more to the stone he was kicking, walking the familiar route. The hands that grabbed him by the collar made him scream. Until one of them landed on his mouth. He stared in the direction Dec had gone, but he'd turned a corner, and Paddy was already being dragged into an alley between two houses.

He kicked and scrambled, and tried to bite at the hand on his mouth, but it made no difference. He was shoved unceremoniously against a wall, to see his attackers face right up in his own.

"Calm down, Padraig," his grandfather growled at him, "it's only me."

That wasn't exactly a calming thought, but Paddy forced himself to calm, trying not to cry.

"What's the matter with you, boy? Your Daddy turning you into a sissy queer too?" Granddad growled impatiently, looking around him for unwanted observers.

"You can talk!" Paddy found himself shouting around the hand on his mouth.

And his Grandfather punched him in the stomach. He almost brought his breakfast back up at the feeling.

"I ain't queer, boy!" the old man hissed in his ear, while Padraig coughed up a lung. "You show respect to your elders, Padraig!"

"Just cos you're old?" Padraig cried, "You can stuff it up…"

Granddad hit him again, and Padraig coughed up before he could finish. He'd got into fights at school before, Jimmy Penny for one liked to throw the odd punch, but he'd never been properly hit by a grown up, and it bloody hurt.

"I should beat the crap out of you," his Grandfather growled, "you little piece of shit. Do you know what you did to me when you showed Cheryl that room?"

"Nothing like what you deserved!" Paddy bit out through the tears.

"I suggest you change your tone, boy!" Granddad warned, "I will not be spoken to like that!"

Paddy sorely wanted to shout back at him, but the pain in his belly still made him feel sick, so he stayed quiet and glared for a bit.

His Grandfather grunted. "That's better," he said, in a more ordinary voice. He surveyed Padraig thoughtfully for a moment, then said, "what's going on with your father and the queer?"

Paddy almost laughed that he was still using that word, but decided answering truthfully would probably hurt him most.

"They're back together. Your little scheme didn't work, they're happier than ever!"

Granddad let out an angry breath.

"Yeah," Paddy continued, pleased by the reaction he was getting, "and you know what? It was me that got them back together. Me and Declan! And there's nothing you can do about it!"

Granddad shoved him back against the wall, and Padraig braced himself for another punch, but it didn't come.

"Huh," his Granddad said thoughtfully, regarding him carefully again, "and you don't think it's wrong? And disgusting?"

Paddy hesitated. There was something wrong with the family as it was. That tension, Ste's wariness, his own nightmares.

The hesitation was enough. His Granddad pounced on it.

"Good, it's not too late for you."

"What?" he Padraig asked, lost now.

His Granddad took him by his arm, and pulled him further down the alley, and out into the next street. The last few stragglers going towards the schools could be seen leaving the street at the far end, and Padraig was tugging on his Grandfather in earnest.

"I'll scream!" he said

"No you won't," his Grandfather replied, "it's too late for Brendan, and probably for Declan too, though we can always come back for him."

"Come back…?"

"It's my duty, as your Granddad, to keep away bad influences, to step in when your own parents aren't up to scratch. I messed up with Brendan, but I did OK with Cheryl."

"What are you…?"

Granddad opened the door of a car. "Get in," he ordered.

Paddy hesitated.

"Get in," Granddad repeated.

"No!" said Paddy with more strength than he felt.

Granddad got his face in close. "Get in or I'll put you in the boot."

Paddy thought his breathing stopped. Then he fought like a wildcat to get free of his Granddad. He punched at anything he could reach, and kicked and slapped, but his Granddad seemed impervious to it all. He dragged the boy by one arm to the back of the car, opened the boot, and then scooped him up, shoving him in, before slamming the lid down, leaving Padraig alone in the darkness.

AN: OK, so I didn't see that one coming. Decided to post it anyway. Too far? No such thing is there?

Please review! It makes me want to keep writing. Or find equilibrium. Or maybe I should just seek professional help. Or something.