"Ben?" Dylan called to his son of three weeks from the kitchen, before physically making his way through to his son's room, knocking twice.

"Yes?" Ben stood and ran to the door, kicking the shoebox under the bed on his way.

"Are you okay?" Dylan asked, looking into Ben's eyes. "You look…"He trailed off.

"Yeah sorry, I'm making a surprise" Ben smiled to cover his lie, a trick he'd learned from all his years with Julia, though his mother had more often than not, been too drunk to notice.

"Oh okay then, please come and get some breakfast though, you're not looking great…"

"Oh… sorry" Ben whispered, looking down.

"I didn't mean it like that" Dylan reassured him, "You're just still very thin is what I meant"

"Oh…"

"At least try?" Dylan offered, "I know how hard it is" Just the week before, Ben had been to see Will, the clinical psychologist suggested, and Will had been worried that Julia may not have been the only person to starve Ben.

"Sorry Dylan" Ben whispered, following him into the kitchen, his fleece pulled tight around himself.

"There's nothing to apologise for, my boy" Dylan smiled at him, gently ruffling his curls, and Ben smiled back. "You have therapy with Will later, remember?"

"Group session?"

"Yeah"

"Thank you Dylan" Ben smiled again and Dylan pulled him in for a gentle hug, cautious still of where the bruises had been three weeks ago.

"If you ever need me to look at anything for you, I will you know?" Dylan reminded him, his chin resting gently atop his son's curls.

"Promise you won't be disgusted?"

"I will never be disgusted. Promise"

Ben snuggled into Dylan again as the kettle clicked. "Tea's done Dylan" he muttered, and Dylan gave him a final squeeze before stepping across to fill the cups.

"David said he can be out of work at 4 today, so we thought we'd go for a walk or watch a movie or something when you're back from the hospital."

"Could we go back by my old house… please?"

"Of course, but I thought there was nothing you wanted to take?" When they'd first gone to Ben's old house, it had been bare of anything that could have possibly belonged to Ben, save a sleeping bag on the garage floor with a lamp beside it and a toothbrush in the bathroom.

"I know but there's only a week before they clear it, and I want to check around…"

Dylan considered saying no, not wanting to upset his son with any painful memories, but nodded despite himself. If it was important to Ben, he wouldn't refuse; God knew that boy had been through enough.

"Cereal? Or toast?" Dylan offered gently, "You only have to try…"

"Cereal please?"

"Of course" Dylan smiled as Ben poured milk into the two cups carefully before picking them up and placing them down on the table.

"Sorry… I've been here three weeks and I'm still not great conversation…" Ben confessed, running his fingers along the edge of the kitchen counter where Dylan poured some cereal into bowls.

"No no Ben, I love having you around, and you're a very interesting person" Dylan told him, sidestepping around his son and placing the two bowls on the table.

They sat down beside one another.

"Do you like Bambi, Dylan?" Ben asked, concentrating deeply as he took a spoonful of cereal, put it in his mouth, chewed and swallowed. He needed to concentrate, so he could stop being a disappointment.

"I… I' not sure I've ever seen it actually" Dylan admitted, half-smiling at his son, whose eyes sparkled a little.

"Oh my word, can I show you it?"

"Sure, I can pick up a copy while you're with Will today?" Offered Dylan, watching with pride as Ben took another spoonful of cereal and ate it methodically.

"Really? You'd do that?"

"Of course I would – it's something you enjoy, right?"

"Yeah… It was my favourite as a kid…" Ben didn't mention that he watched it right up until a month ago to calm him down, and he didn't mention that he actually hated any films with any type of violence involved.

Ben stepped out of the clinic end of the hospital and into the cool breeze. A man sat in a tuxedo next to a greying lady in a wheelchair, holding her hand across the lawn. She has a tartan blanket hanging loose around her shoulders that reminded Ben of his cat as a child, and a girl of about 7 in a daisy shirt and green dungarees with straight brown hair ran in circles, making a few other patients smile. Ben himself allowed a soft smile to break out across his face at the sound of the girl's laughter – it was soft and lilting, counteracting the dead weight he always seemed to carry in his chest.

Pulling away from his thoughts, he glanced around, spotting Dylan standing across the car park talking to David, car keys dangling from one hand. Why was it whenever Ben was in a bad way he only noticed the tiny details? They were like flies, taunting and scratching away from the bigger picture; that was what had always gotten him into deeper trouble living back at home. Home. It wasn't really ever home though, was it?

"Ben?" Dylan stood in front of him now and he smiled back at him.

"Hi Dylan"

"D'you still want to go back to the old house and check around?"

"Yeah please" There was some sound of ringing urgency in Ben's voice Dylan noticed; he must have left something more important than a copy of Bambi there.

"Okay we'll drive over there and then we can go back home and have tea, and I picked up a copy of Bambi for you to show me."

"Thank you" Lofty uttered gratefully, dipping his head, and David smiled at him, getting in the front seat beside his husband.

The car pulled up outside Ben's old house and he felt a shiver shoot down his spine when he saw Alex's car still parked in the drive, green and dented, but terrifying nonetheless. The windswept bushes scattered across the path held memories of approaching the front door after a day at school, not knowing how drunk his other was going to be. Ben gulped at the air, and David placed a gentle palm on his shoulder.

"You're being really brave Ben" he told him quietly as Dylan shook out the key the social worker had given him. "D'you want me to walk with you to the door?"

"Please" Ben hadn't meant his voice to come out in so much of a whimper as it did, and he swallowed it back down, just focusing on the warm weight of David's palm.

Dylan reached the end of the path and unlocked the heavy oak door with a clunk, pushing it forward.

"Hey" David spoke softly again, "I'm gonna be right next to you, okay?"

Ben nodded as they walked down the path, trying to ignore the memories that arose with every step. "David?" he whimpered, having checked Dylan was inside the house. He paused and David stopped beside him on the path. "Please help me forget…" His voice was a whisper and a sob flipped up his throat, tears stinging the corners of his eyes, "I don't want Dylan to see me like this, please help me" Still Ben's voice came out as a hiss as he bit back tears.

"Here" David replied, loosely enveloping Ben in his arms, "I've got you… I know it's scary, but I promise nothing will hurt you again, as long as I can stop it – and nothing will ever hurt you in that house as long as you live" He pressed a soft kiss against the top of his son's head. "Are you okay to go in?"

Ben nodded, still biting his lip, but stepped out from David's careful embrace, clenching his fists in the biting breeze. David walked alongside him the rest of the way down the path.

"I'm proud of you" he whispered just as they reached the threshold.

"Thankyou…" Ben trailed off. He'd nearly called David 'Dad' by accident… It would have been by accident though wouldn't it? He tried his best to reassure the jumping butterflies in his stomach as he stepped into the familiar darkened corridor past the door.

"What on earth was wrong with Julia?" Dylan muttered as he and David stood in the sitting room of Ben's old house together, waiting for him to finish scouting around.

"I have no idea" David replied, shaking his head at the troubled notions, "I don't understand how anyone could do that to their child…"

"It scares me to think what would have happened, had we not found out"

"And me…"

Ben listened through the paper-thin walls from his room across the corridor. Well, the garage, but it had technically counted as his room. Three weeks ago, they'd come to the house and he'd smuggled his shoebox into his overnight bag given to him by the hospital, but something had been missing and he had to find it, while hoping and praying that his mother hadn't found it first.

Feeling around the edges of his grotty sleeping bag and pillow case, he jumped as he felt something flutter against his hand. There. A sigh of relief barrelled through his chest and his vision went fuzzy for a moment. It was only then he realised a draft beating over his back and he turned…to face a broken window.

That window hadn't been broken before. A hot wave of panic rose in his chest as he stood, shoving the note into his pocket – he span on his heel, watching intently for anything else unusual… and then he saw it.

A video camera. Red light blinking.

Adrenaline coursed through Ben's body, sending him running, not bothering to retrieve the camera from the garage and into the sitting room where Dylan and David stood in a deep, silent embrace.

"Dylan, David! Please, w-we gotta get out p-please" Ben spluttered, tears pouring down his face, "Please, I can't come back here please, please…" His words trailed off as he pleaded with them, tears rushing down his face.

"It's okay Ben" David announced, helping his partner escort their son from the house, down the corridor and into the fresh air as quickly as possible.

"It's okay, it's okay" he continued to mutter, helping him into the back seat of the car, and taking the seat beside him as Dylan ran up the path to the car, assuming Ben had had a panic attack and wanted to leave as quickly as possible.

They pulled away from the curb, David holding the trembling, tearful boy and Dylan desperate to get back to the boat and away from the source of panic.

"S-sorry… I won't m-make you take me back again" Ben sobbed into David's shoulder, breaths overlapping one another and hands shaking, wet with sweat.

"It's okay" David simply continued to reassure him, "Don't apologise, it's okay…"

Once they reached the boat, Ben's breathing was restored to usual, yet he still hiccupped, tears staining his cheeks and face tainted red.

"I got you…" David offered, helping his son out from the car. In all their panic, none of them had realised a certain bashed-up green car following theirs. It pulled back away from the harbour and continued down the road, still remaining unnoticed.

Ben sat in the sitting room, not wanting to keep Dylan and David from his sight as long as he still felt uneasy – he couldn't tell them the reason for his panic at his old house for fear of endangering them all, yet he was still empowered enough to protect them. Sure, he'd only known them three weeks, yet somehow they mattered more to him than anyone else in the world, well, apart from one person…

Lofty,

These are for you… I know the big dream is to be a dancer, how could I forget? It has been since you were four. I hope these help you through everything, and I hope you know how much I love you. You're my perfect boyfriend – please don't forget me.

Happy Birthday darling, and stay safe. I know you haven't had a birthday present before…

Love Maxie xx

It was 11pm, and Dylan was on a night shift, David in the kitchen reading through some papers. Lofty went back through to his bedroom and pulled the shoebox from beneath his bed once more. The satin ribbon was soft and he ran his index finger across it, before deftly removing it and opening the box. A pair of ballet shoes, chalked at the point lay nestled between the layers of tissue paper and Lofty sustained a sob as he reached out, stroking the supple material.

This was the one secret he'd kept from both Alex and Julia.

He tucked the scrap of paper beneath them and gave the soft material a final loving stroke, before placing the lid back on with careful precision and re-tying the ribbon.

Surely he was safe to be who he was here, yet he wasn't entirely sure. Still, if living with his mother had taught him anything, it was how to keep secrets…