In the early hours of the morning, the light pooling through a gap in the curtains, I slide out of bed. Steven is still asleep, covers wrapped around him in a cocoon of warmth. His pointed nose is pressed deeply into the pillow, his mouth slightly open as he breathes in and out evenly. I find it relaxing, watching him sleep. It feels familiar to me, more familiar than it has before.

The bed gives a small creak as I rise but he doesn't wake up. I pad out barefoot into the kitchen, fixing myself a coffee. I know I won't be able to go back to sleep again. I sit in the quiet of the flat, sipping thoughtfully. There's still the distinctive hush of early morning settling around the flat.

I'm not alone for long. Cheryl comes out of her room, wrapped up in a dressing gown, her hair mussed. I give her a small smile, getting another mug out of the cupboard.

"Can't sleep either?" I ask, taking the milk back out of the fridge.

"Not really." She sits heavily on one of the kitchen stools, leaning her chin against her hand. "Thanks," she says after I hand her a coffee.

"You're moving today, don't you think you need the rest?"

Cheryl shrugs, sipping her drink. "I guess so. Nate will have to be rested for the both of us."

"He asleep?"

"Yep."

"Steven is too."

She looks at me then, a small smile forming on her lips. "I'm glad you two are together again."

"Yeah?"

She nods, putting her mug down. "Granted, it was never simple with you two, but he always made you happy in a way no one else could."

"Other people tried?" I scoff.

She smirks at that. "Only me." She sighs a little, beginning to frown. "I guess for the longest time I never really knew you but Ste did. He saw all the good and the bad and he loved you anyway."

"Loved?"

"Loves," she amends, fixing me with a look. "And you love him." She doesn't say it like a question.

"You think so?"

"Yes, and I know best." She slips me a wink. "Anyway, what's the plan? You two gonna stick around here or move on elsewhere?"

"Don't know really. I can't go far, and I don't know if Steven will want to stay for his family."

"You're his family," Cheryl says firmly.

"I haven't asked him yet, what happened with them."

"He'll tell you when he's ready."

"Will you tell me something?" I ask, keeping my voice low. I have to ask her before she leaves.

Cheryl's eyes dart to mine, anxious. "What is it?"

"How did Da die?"

Cheryl goes white all over but there's a firmness to the set of her mouth, a determination in her eyes.

"I killed him."

I should be surprised but I'm not. I look at her carefully, waiting for her to elaborate further. Instead she breathes out, relieved.

"I've wanted to tell you that for a long time."

"Why didn't you?"

"Because I didn't want to confuse you, or bring Dad up too soon before…" she trails off, biting her bottom lip. "It makes me sick sometimes, that I couldn't protect you."

"Isn't that my thing?" I try to sound light-hearted but can't quite manage it.

"Yeah, it is," Cheryl says sadly, looking at me very seriously. "You went to prison for me."

I blink, startled by her sudden openness.

"It's mad really. You protect me all my life from him. Then when I do the same for you, it's still you who suffers from it."

"That's why you did it? You were protecting me?"

"I'd just found out what he did to you and I was going to the club to find you. I needed to see you." She speaks as though she's there, re-living it. I wonder how many times she's gone over this in her head. "I saw him standing over you and I could hear your panic, begging him not to do what he was going to do." She shudders, closing her eyes. "I didn't even think, I just pulled the trigger," she's whispering now, voice hush. "I think about it every day. I think about how I could have done something different, could have shot above his head or got him in the arm. But do you know what comes to me every time I think that?" She looks at me now, her eyes wide and terrified like a child's.

"What?" I ask, dreading the answer.

"I think: what if I couldn't have stopped him? What if he'd managed to hurt you again, with me there or not?"

"I don't think…" I cough. "I don't think he would, in front of you-"

"Maybe not then but he was bigger than us, Brendan, in every way. He made me think he loved us. It was all a lie." Tears are rolling down her cheeks now. I reach out to put my arm around her but she stands up abruptly. "I can't, Bren. I don't deserve it."

"What are you talking about?"

"When I'm with Ste sometimes, I can't even look him in the eye, knowing what I did."

"But you said it yourself, you were protecting me."

"I was. But who was protecting you when you went down for it? When you lost everything?"

"But I'm here now, things are okay."

"But you don't remember him," Cheryl sobs. "And that's my fault. If I hadn't done what I did, you'd have stayed with him. Nothing would have changed."

I bow my head, not having the answers for this. "I will remember him," I say quietly. "I will."

She smiles sadly at me, sitting down again. "Make sure you phone me when you do." She laughs a little then, relieved. I put my arms around her and she lets me this time. She cries into my chest and I hold her. She's still my baby sister and she always will be.

Nate and Steven wake up a few hours later. There isn't much time to talk after that; Cheryl packs everything away while Nate sorts out the plane tickets.

We have lunch together, sandwiches that Steven's thrown together from leftover ingredients in the fridge. I tell him we'll go for a shop later and it feels normal.

"Are you sure you don't want a lift to the airport?" I offer, holding my sister tightly in my arms.

"We rented this car anyway, we need to drop it back," Nate says, putting the last of their bags into the boot. He gives me a firm handshake while Cheryl hugs Steven goodbye. "Look after yourself."

"You too. And her." I nod at Cheryl and she smiles.

"Of course." Nate opens the passenger side for Cheryl, clapping Steven on the shoulder before getting into the driver's seat himself.

We watch them drive away, saying nothing. Steven places his hand against my arm, giving it a squeeze.

"Let's go back inside, yeah?"

I nod, feeling oddly relieved that it's just the two of us now. I love my sister, but I realise seeing her all the time would be difficult. Too many memories.

"You were up early this morning," Steven says when the door is shut behind us.

"Was speaking to Cheryl."

"Oh?"

"She told me, about Seamus."

I don't need to elaborate further; Steven's mouth presses into a firm line, understanding.

"It should shock me, right? My sister telling me she's killed someone."

Steven says nothing. He fixes me with a look instead. "Don't think about it right now."

"How can I not? I get it, sometimes you have to do terrible things to protect the people you love." I meet Steven's gaze then. "I did wonder if I'd maybe killed him."

"What do you mean?"

"When I asked her how he died, a part of me expected her to say I did it."

"You didn't." Steven shakes his head, his body tensing.

"Would you have forgiven me, if I had?" I don't know where the question comes from but I'm suddenly desperate for his answer.

"Yes," Steven says very quietly.

"Am I capable of it?"

Steven flexes his fingers, agitated. He doesn't respond.

"Doesn't that scare you?" I ask, taking his silence as confirmation.

"I'm not scared of you. I love you."

I take his wrist, rubbing my thumb over his pulse. "What did I do in a past life to deserve you, hm?"

Steven laughs a little breathlessly. "Maybe in the next life," he whispers, almost inaudible. "You'll get a better me, one you deserve."

My throat constricts at his words. I tighten my grip on his wrist. "Steven," I say, choked. "God, Steven."

"What is it?"

I look at him, my gaze sharp and intense. "Come here."

He's in my arms, straddling me on the sofa. His lips are pressed against mine, searing and binding. My hands are up his back, stroking his spine. His crotch grinds into mine and I curse between our crushing mouths, lifting him in my arms and carrying him to the bedroom, his legs wrapped tightly around my waist.

I strip him of his clothes, spreading him across the bed. I'm on him immediately, lips and tongue exploring every crevice. My teeth graze his throat, my hand slicked up to the knuckle as I open him up for me, desperate to fill him.

His cries are loud and unrestrained. It's just the two of us now and he knows it. I push into him when he's ready and feel us both shudder with the impact. His body pulsates under my touch, his hips leaving the bed when my cock hits the spot deep inside him.

I bury my face in his neck, breathing in his scent; sweat and the faint hint of cheap deodorant. He's perfect and I want him so badly. I tell him so and he cries out again, reaching for himself as he screams my name through his orgasm. I quicken my pace, riding out his climax with him until my own hits me full force, almost uprooting us from the bed.

I collapse beside him, panting and sweaty. He rolls onto his side, grabbing some tissues from the bedside table before re-joining me. His skin is practically glowing and his smile is wide and bright.

"That was…" he struggles to form the right word. "Urgent," he eventually manages, giving a breathy little sigh.

I cup his face with my palm, drawing him close for a kiss. "Had to have you."

"You haven't changed one bit." He smiles and there's no doubt in his gaze, no pity for what he's lost. He looks like a man who has what he wants, no question.

I thumb his cheek, wiping some of the sweat away. "You're a state."

He snorts. "You can talk! You're panting like a dog. Too much for you, old man?"

"Watch it." I take his bottom lip between my teeth.

"I'm only teasing. Just don't want you putting your back out or anything."

"Oh yeah?" I pull him across my body, holding him in an iron grip to my chest. "Try and get out, go on."

He wiggles a little without any real effort. His face is flushed red now, his lips moist. I kiss him hard, digging my tongue into his mouth. Then I release him, satisfied with the way he has to catch his breath.

He flops down beside me, his forehead touching my arm. He kisses my cross tattoo and smiles again, soft curve to his mouth.

"I hope every day is like this."

"You're gonna wear me out."

"Thought you could handle it."

"Course I can. I like a challenge."

"I know that." He turns onto his back, looking to the ceiling. "There's a crack in the ceiling."

"There's also a crack here," I say, poking his arse.

"Fuck off," he laughs. "I'm being serious."

I follow his gaze. "Well what do you know? You're right for a change."

"Shut up." He gives me a hard nudge. "Are we staying here, Bren? I don't really fancy having a ceiling collapse on top of me."

I open my mouth to give him another dirty remark but he shakes his head, grinning.

"Don't even. Come on, are we?"

"I don't know," I say honestly. "I didn't know if you'd want to stick around here or not."

"'Cause of my family?" He sounds almost calm when he says it, which surprises me.

"Yeah. I'd understand if you couldn't leave them."

He shrugs, his eyebrows drawn together in a frown. "I tried the whole happy families thing, didn't really work out."

"Why not?"

"I knew what the real thing was, didn't I?"

"You told me the kids lived with us for a while?"

"Yup. Best time of me life."

"What happened? Besides the obvious."

"Amy, their mum, took them away."

"Because of me?"

Steven's frown deepens. "Kind of."

"You haven't asked her if you can see them?"

"They've been away for a bit. I'm seeing them next week."

"Oh right."

He moves onto his side. "You should come with me."

"Seriously?" I ask, sceptical.

"They'd love to see you."

I have no way of arguing so I leave it be. We lay in silence for a while, both of us lost in our own thoughts.

"So, your dad," I begin carefully. Steven turns to me again, a little startled.

"What about him?"

"Why'd you leave him?"

Steven rolls his eyes. "He wasn't what I thought he'd be. Had an affair, almost wrecked the entire family. Only cared about me when it suited him. It's my own fault really, I had this stupid idea of what it would be like to have a dad and he wasn't it."

"That's not stupid," I murmur. "Not at all."

"It's done now anyway, I told him what I thought when I left. I think he was pretty shocked."

"He should know better, you always speak your mind."

"Yeah, that's why I'm always in trouble."

"I'll bet."

He smiles fondly at me. "So basically I'll go wherever. Maybe somewhere I can get a job."

"Same. It's about time I really thought about that."

He looks suddenly concerned, his fingers reaching out to trace my jaw. "I don't know if you're ready for that yet. Your memories haven't all come back yet."

"They will. I'm sure of that."

He smiles like I'm humouring him and I have to get up. I swing my legs out of bed, reaching for my clothes.

"Where you going?" He asks, kissing my back.

"Fancy a walk, you wanna?"

"Sure." I hear him move behind me, the bed creaking under our combined weight. "Where do you wanna go?"

"Where would you recommend?"

I look over my shoulder when he doesn't reply. He's thinking hard, his tongue poking out in concentration.

"I know a place. Pretty quiet."

"Sounds perfect."

We end up walking for longer than I anticipated. Steven leads us on a loop around the village before diving straight into the heart of it. I wonder if he's been psyching himself up to entering and I almost take his hand to reassure him. Almost.

It's mid-afternoon and the village is relatively quiet. A few people shoot us curious looks but no one dares talk to us. Steven's on a mission, leading me down a dark alleyway. I chuckle, about to make a comment when he pushes me against the wall, kissing me fiercely on the mouth.

"Steven Hay, I never." I grin against his mouth, enjoying the way his small body is pressed against mine.

"What? I said it was quiet."

"It's also broad daylight. God's watching."

"Shut up." He kisses me again, my head almost connecting with the wall. He rubs it in apology, kissing along my jaw and throat in the process.

"You're insatiable," I tell him, my hand cupping his behind.

"Speak proper, what does that even mean?" His nose brushes against mine, the touch feather light.

"It means you're a fucking tease. Can we go back to the flat?"

"Calm down, we can go there later." Steven pulls away, looking around him. "It's not much, is it?"

"I'm not really looking at the scenery, Steven."

"That interesting, am I?"

"Always."

"Anyone would think you're in love with me." He says it teasingly but something else shines in his eyes. I reach up to stroke his cheek. His skin feels paper thin, breakable.

"I do. I love you. Nothing's ever gonna change that, okay?"

He blinks away sudden tears, standing on his tiptoes to kiss me again.

It starts out as a flicker. A memory of this alley, this village. All the places we've been together and made history. It grows into something more concrete; the memory of his face after I fucked him the first time, the disappointment of my rejection after. Fists connecting with soft flesh, blood, so much blood.

But then there's light. There's him, bathed in the glow of the sun, fast asleep in bed after I sealed everything, told him I couldn't live my life without him. There's my dad's pub, him smashing a glass against the wall, telling me it's just dust. Taking the darkness and filling it with him, only him. The bridge, locks filled with promises but my words the only thing that matters. Other declarations, later met with broken promises. Not this time though.

"Steven." I break away from him, cradling his face in my hands. He looks at me blankly, not comprehending the fire in my eyes. "Steven,"I say again, filled with knowing.