Right so here's the next one as promised...please, please, PLEASE let me know what you think of it...even if its a good old fashioned, 'Signalfire, that was shockingly shit, what are you doing?'...I welcome it all! :D Some major GSE actions kicks off in the next one, to say there's a big fight would be a slight understatement...hope you're still enjoying this story! A huge thanks to Little Miss Bovver who has given me more than enough fuel to add to my GSE fire! Christ, that was awful...seriously, did i ACTUALLY just write that?! enough ranting: read + review OCD. :) love you all! xxxx

"Ow!" Matt winced as Allie slammed the ice pack against his chest a little too hard, taking it from her he took a quick peek at the sore looking skin underneath before gently pressing it back, wincing at the pain.

"Don't even think of getting sympathy out of me," she laughed and pointed at him. "You did this to yourself,"

"Let's have a look, son," Pete strolled over and pulled the ice pack away from Matt's chest, grinning when the still red looking West Ham crest tattoo came into view. "Aw, mate it looks fucking brilliant,"

"You reckon?" Matt asked.

Allie was grateful to be standing behind the fridge door where neither of the men could see her rolling her eyes. She still couldn't believe that Matt had gone and got the bloody thing done; they'd all been talking about it last night, but then they'd been hammered, so she's assumed it was just that: talk.

"It stings though," the American grumbled. "Is it supposed to sting?"

Sighing, Allie walked back over to him and handed her £200 a tub moisturizer which she kept in the fridge.

"Put this on it," she told him. "It'll help it heal."

Watching as he clumsily opened the jar and scooped out some of the gel inside, Allie perched on the stool in front of him and glanced over to where the rest of the boys were in the midst of a playstation tournament; thank God she had to meet Lara in an hour.

"I still can't believe you actually went and got this done," she laughed.

"Oh come on," Pete smirked at her, clapping Matt on the shoulder. "It's a rite of passage for the Yank,"

"So was my promotion at work," Allie rolled her eyes. "But you don't see a Chanel tattoo on my arse, do you?"

"I might need proof of that," Swill called over his shoulder, earning a stern look from Pete and a wave of laughter from the rest of the boys.

"Seriously," Allie whispered as Pete jogged back over to take his turn on the FIFA tournament they had going. "You do know that you didn't have to do this, don't you?"

"You don't like it?" he frowned.

"No," Allie laughed. "It looks…," shaking her head, she smiled sadly at him. "Is this about the team or the Boys?"

"What?" Matt shook his head. "That's not even…why are you asking me that?"

"Because," she shrugged. "I just think that you might have gotten confused in trying to fit in with them," she gestured over her shoulder. "And actually giving a shit about West Ham,"

"What? You're judging me now?" Matt asked her, his blue eyes wide with hurt.

"I'm not judging you," she rolled her eyes. "I'm just…" she placed her hands on his shoulders and looked him dead in the eye. "Be careful," she smiled. "That's all I'm saying,"

"I'm not a kid, Allie." He told her firmly.

"I know," she let go of him, shoving her hands into her jean pockets. "But that doesn't mean I don't get to care about you."

Before Matt could say anything to her, the front door opened and Steve stepped into the flat, his smart looking suit and tired eyes letting them know he had just come from work.

"Ay, ay bruv," Pete grinned, walking over to the older man and clapping him on the shoulder. "Don't tell me Shannon's kicked you out?"

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," Steve snapped storming over to where Matt was sitting and pushing Allie to one side, inspecting the American in front of him. His eyes drifted down from the cut on his lip to the sore looking tattoo on his chest and he tensed. "Well that's just fucking perfect, isn't it?"

He spun around to look at Pete who was calmly sat at the breakfast bar sipping his coke.

"I suppose this is down to you as usual?" Steve demanded.

"Oh come on, bruv," Pete moaned. "He's past the age of being led astray don't you think? None of us made him do anything,"

Steve stared at his brother for a long moment, his breathing coming out in harsh pants as he tried to control his anger.

"Outside," he pointed to the front door. "Now, Pete."

Sighing and rolling his eyes, Pete pushed his glass away from him and followed his brother out of the flat into the hallway, squeezing Allie's hand as he passed hoping it would ease the worry on her face somewhat.

Closing the door behind him, Pete folded his arms and leant back against the wall, eyeing his brother up warily; Steve might have left his old ways behind, but he was still unpredictable. Their mum had always said that he had his fathers temper and from what Pete could remember, that was far from being a good thing.

"Pete, what the fuck do you think you're doing?" Steve asked him, stepping forward and lowering his voice.

"Come again?" the younger man frowned.

"Dragging Matt into all this bollocks," he pressed. "I may not be the Major any more mate, but that doesn't mean I've forgotten how all of this works," he pointed to the closed door. "Having a fucking yank in the film can't be doing you any favours, not to mention I can bet my life there are plenty of people gunning for him,"

"No one gives a shit," Pete shook his head. "He's not a fucking toddler, Steve. If he wanted out, no one's stopping him from leaving,"

"Right so the fact that he's sat in there now with a Hammers crest on his chest has nothing to do with you, does it?" Steve laughed. "Always the fucking innocent, aren't you, Pete?"

"And what would you know?" he sneered. "Like you said, bruv, you're not involved in any of this any more. And its changed a lot since your fucking glory days, believe me,"

"You're so full of it, d'you know that?" Steve snorted. "When is it going to sink in that being an arrogant little prick all your life isn't going to get you anywhere except maybe in the plot next to dad?"

"Do you know what that means coming from you?" Pete raised his eyebrows and smirked. "It means fuck all. You were such a fucking Daddy's boy growing up weren't you? Everything you did was to please him and now you're calling me an arrogant little prick for doing the same thing?" Pete shook his head at him in disgust. "Try looking in the mirror,"

"So that's what this is, is it?" Steve laughed. "Some pathetic better late than never attempt to get into dad's good books? You're a fucking mess, Pete. Take a step back and look at your life, I mean really have a good fucking look. You've got a job you love, a beautiful woman who for some unknown fucking reason is actually willing to marry you and you're on the verge of throwing it away for this shit?"

"You don't know anything about that," Pete hissed. "So if I were you, I'd shut my mouth pretty fucking sharpish,"

"Hit a sore spot, did I?" Steve raised an eyebrow and jabbed his finger into Pete's chest. "Good. It's the only fucking way you'll learn." He straightened his jacket and turned, preparing to walk back down the stairs. "You get Matt out of this now, d'you hear me? Fuck up your own life all you want, but he's got too much going for him for you to step in and send it all to hell."

Pete swore he could actually taste acid as those words left his brother's mouth; clenching his fists by his sides, he felt the words leave his mouth before he even realised he was speaking.

"And what exactly can I learn from you, Stevie?" he shot, watching as the older man turned back to face him and met his eyes dead on. "Other than how to be a fucking push over that is?" he snorted. "You think I should be jealous of the life you've got mate? Home at 6 every night, nice, tidy little housewife…nah, mate," Pete shook his head. "I fucking pity you."

To be fair, he had known that given Steve's temper, he probably should have shut his mouth a long time ago; but unfortunately for Pete, it was only in the second he felt his brothers fist connect with his jaw that he realised he may have overstepped the mark.

"Do you think they're ok?"

Allie looked up at Matt who was still staring at the front door intently; she'd seen Pete and Steve go through this a million and one times: Steve would lecture, Pete would refuse to listen. It was nothing new to her.

"Matt," she leant on the counter and poked his arm. "Think of every fight you've ever had with Shannon," she smirked. "Now, put a cockney accent on it,"

Matt laughed and shook his head, meeting her eyes and temporarily forgetting about what may or may not be going on in the hallway as she stared back at him.

"It's just sibling crap," she shook her head. "Nothing to worry about, I swear."

He nodded, but wasn't sure he believed it. Allie hadn't been there the day after Matt had first arrived in the UK and gone to the match with Pete; Steve had lost his temper, pinning him against the wall and practically screaming in his face.

Glancing at the blonde as she brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes and continued reading her magazine, Matt felt guilty for lying to her, but Pete had made him swear that he wouldn't tell her about it.

"Allie?" he bit his lip, knowing that it was wrong, but a part of him not really caring that much. "I have to-…"

The loud crash which came from the hallway brought the attention of the entire room back to front door. Not even giving himself a second to think about how potentially idiotic his actions could have been, Matt jumped up from his chair and yanked on his sweater before running towards the door.

"Matt!" Allie shouted after him, the rest of the boys behind her as she trailed after him.

Her heart stopped when she looked past the American to see Steve pinning Pete against the wall, his hand clamped forcefully around his throat as he yelled something unrecognisable in his face.

"Oi!" Bovver immediately pushed forward with Ike and Swill right behind him. "Steve, mate, what the fuck are you playing at?"

Steve fell backwards slightly as Bovver shoved him hard, placing a hand on his chest to keep him back from attacking Pete again.

"Get your hands off me!" the older man shouted, shoving Bovver away and fixing his wild stare back on his brother who was leaning back against the wall, his nose bleeding slightly. "When are you gonna fucking learn, Pete?" he laughed. "When are you going to get it into your thick fucking skull?"

"What're you talking about?" Matt asked him, stepping in front of his brother in law and trying to read his eyes. "Steve?"

"He knows," he nodded towards Pete. "He knows what I'm saying; and if he's got so much as a single brain cell, he'll do something about it," reaching down, he picked up his briefcase and shot a quick look at Allie, guilt immediately flooding his stomach. She looked so scared of him right now, almost as though she didn't recognise him. "But for now, just stay the fuck out of my way,"

Not giving any of them the chance to respond, he stormed down to the bottom floor, the only sound in the building seeming to be the large oak door as it slammed.

"Allie?" Dave smiled gently at the worried looking blonde girl. "Do you reckon you could grab some gauze or something?"

Allie carried on staring at Pete who was now looking back at her, trying so desperately to conceal the hurt and anger in his eyes that she felt her throat start to tighten.

"Allie?" Dave asked her again. "Please, sweetheart?"

Leaving Pete's side for a moment, he made his way over to her and took her hand, running his thumb over her knuckles.

"Oi," he whispered, tilting her chin so that her gaze was forced away from Pete towards him. "He'll be ok, its just Steve being a prick." He nodded towards the door which led to the flat. "Go on, love."

Nodding mutely, Allie stumbled back into the flat leaving the boys standing on the landing staring at their leader in concern.

"What was all that really about then eh?" Bovver asked.

"Nothing," Pete mumbled and cast a quick glance at Matt. "Nothing that matters,"

"It was about me, wasn't it?" The American gulped nervously.

"Oh fucking hell, pipe down will you?" Bov shook his head in disgust. Just because Matt had helped them out in Manchester that day didn't mean that he was going to start kissing the yanks arse like everyone else seemed to be.

"Shut up both of you, alright?" Dave snapped. "We've got bigger problems that you two having some pissy bitch fight," casting a glance at Pete who was still leaning against the wall, not even bothering to wipe the blood from under his nose. "Pete," he lowered his voice. "Come on mate; don't suppose you fancy cluing the rest of us in, do you?"

"It's like you said," he told them. "Just Steve being a prick,"

Shoving past them back into the flat, he walked straight past Allie who was rifling through the first aid kit for something resembling a plaster or piece of gauze. Wincing as the bedroom door slammed behind him, she stood there speechless as the boys filed back into the small apartment looking at her expectantly.

"What the hell happened?" she demanded, turning to face them. "I was only gone for about two minutes!"

Meeting Matt's gaze, she saw the guilt in his eyes and immediately clenched her fists.

"Ask the yank," Bovver rolled his eyes. "He seems to be a fucking font of knowledge these days,"

Shaking her head in disgust, she simply turned on her heel and moved towards the bedroom, stopping only when someone snagged her wrist. Glancing back, she frowned when she saw Matt looking at her pleadingly.

"Allie, maybe you should just leave him," he told her gently. "Something tells me he's not really in the mood for company,"

"I'm not company," she snapped, yanking her hand out of his grasp. "I'm his God damn girlfriend and if none of you are going to tell me what's going on, I've got no other choice but to ask him have I?"

Strolling down the small corridor which led to Pete's bedroom, she closed the door behind her and sighed. This was the last thing they needed right now after the fight they'd had only last week, but then when had the GSE ever accounted for anyone's feelings, let alone hers.

Glancing around the room, she frowned seeing that he wasn't in there so pushed through the door in the corner of his room which was adjoined to the bathroom…only to find that he wasn't in there, either.

Fantastic…she had a family feud, a bunch of moody hooligans and a disappearing boyfriend on her hands. Swearing under her breath, she walked over to the basin and quickly glanced at herself in the mirror.

"Jesus Christ!" she cried, dropping the bottle of disinfectant she was holding, wincing when it clanked loudly into the porcelain bowl. Staring at Pete in the reflection where he sat on top of the laundry basket in the corner of the room, Allie tried to get her breathing back to normal.

"Are you alright?" he asked her quietly, wincing as his nose stung at even the slightest movement he made. He'd forgotten what a fierce punch his brother had.

"What?" she whispered and then frowned, shaking her head. "Yeah, yeah, I'm…I'm ok," wiping her hands on her jeans, she approached him slowly, warily. Just because she was pissed off at what Matt had said to her didn't mean that there wasn't any chance it was true. Pete might want to be on his own right now, in which case anything she did or said in the next couple of seconds had to be carefully thought out and planned.

"That must hurt," she gestured to his nose and then closed her eyes tightly. Good job, Harding, her brain laughed sarcastically. Maybe you should punch him again just to make sure.

"I've had worse," Pete told her, the tiniest of smiles pulling at the corner of his mouth, but it was enough for her to know that he was ok with her being here.

"Can I…?" she gently took his head in between her hands and examined his nose. The blood had started to dry and she didn't want to have to put too much pressure on it to wipe it away so letting go of him, she turned back to the sink and fished the small piece of gauze out of it, wetting it slightly and moving back to stand in between his legs.

"Allie," Pete shook his head, pushing her hand back down when she lifted it to apply the gauze. "Don't…"

"It'll take a second if you sit still," she told him, ignoring the look he gave her and gently wiping the blood away from his skin. "Do you want to talk?"

Looking up at her, Pete watched intently as she focused on wiping the blood away as delicately as she could, her other hand unconsciously resting on his shoulder rubbing gently to ease the tension in his muscles.

"About what?" he muttered.

"Gee, I don't know," Allie pulled away and regarded him as though he was some kind of retard. "Just off the top of my head, you might want to start with why you have your brothers fist imprinted in the centre of your face?" laughing she chucked the bloodied gauze onto the bathroom counter before moving back in to stand in between his legs and cupping his face in her hands. "Hey," she spoke softly. "I didn't mean to be so…" shaking her head, she smiled bashfully at him. "I'm just worried about you is all,"

"I always swore I wouldn't let it happen," Pete practically whispered, shaking his head.

"What?" she asked. "What wouldn't happen?"

"All my fucking life I've had to put up with him spouting bollocks at me," Pete stood up and pointed at the door. "As far as him and my old man were concerned, nothing and I mean fucking nothing I ever did was good enough. Do you have an idea what its like to go through your entire life knowing someone's constantly watching you and judging you, Allie?"

"No," she told him honestly. "Pete-…"

"Always the fuck up," he whispered shaking his head and bracing his arms against the counter. "No matter what I do, in his eyes I always manage to fuck it up,"

"Steve loves you," Allie tried to explain. "You know he does, it's just that…"

"That what?" Pete snapped. "When was the last time Harry or Rich had you in a fucking head lock against a wall? You think that's normal? Nah, even for my family that's still pretty screwed up."

"Pete," Allie bit her lip, reaching out to gently touch his shoulder and wincing when he shrugged her off.

"Don't," he shook his head and then turned to face her, seeing the hurt in her eyes and hating himself for it; none of this was her fault, he shouldn't be making her feel back for his mistakes. "I'm alright," he told her, trying to smile and failing horribly. "I'm sorry, I just…" reaching out he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and kissed her forehead. "I'm gonna have a shower, I'll be out soon,"

Allie knew that he wanted to be alone but couldn't help feeling a little bit hurt; whatever was going on in his head must have been really bad if he didn't even want her there.

"Ok," she nodded, trying not to look too upset as she wiped her hands on her jeans and took a step back from him. Making her way towards the door, she jumped when suddenly he reached out and snagged her hand, pulling her back to face him and hugging her so tightly she felt like her ribs would crack, but she didn't pull back, not in the slightest.

"Sorry," Pete smiled bashfully as he pulled away, his lips finding hers. "I just…" he shrugged. "Cheers for this,"

"Anything for you, mate," she replied in a gruff voice, playfully punching his side and grinning when he laughed. "You don't ever have to thank me," she shook her head and stood on her tip toes to kiss his forehead. "I'm always here,"

He wanted to ask her why…why was she always there putting up with this shit when he knew, Christ even she probably knew she could do better.

Instead he settled for leaning down and gently kissing her shoulder before playfully shoving her towards the door.

"Go on," he smirked. "Sod off, you're not allowed to see me naked,"

"Oh please," she looked at him in disgust. "As if I would even want to…ugh,"

Squeezing his hand, she winked at him and then left the room, letting him get this head together. Leaning back against the door as it closed, she felt tears sting her eyes and bit her lip to keep from sobbing. Jesus, the hurt in his eyes just then had been enough to make her feel ill; she would have quite happily killed Steve in that second. Sighing deeply, she walked over to the bedroom door and pulled it open, gasping when she came face to face with Dave.

"Christ!" she laughed, clasping her chest. "You lot aren't going to be happy until I have a heart attack will you?"

"You alright, darling?" he asked reaching out to brush a strand of hair out of her watery eyes.

"Me?" she laughed. "Yeah, of course,"

"You're a fucking shocking liar," he grinned. "I thought you knew that,"

"Sod it, I thought I was getting better," she shook her head and then pulled him in for a hug.

"He'll be alright," he whispered, holding the young woman who felt more like a little sister than she did a mate even closer as her breathing got shaky. "I promise,"

"Yeah," Allie nodded, forcing herself to believe he was telling the truth. "I know,"

"Oi," he pulled back, holding her at arms length and smirking. "I know something that'll cheer you up."

"Last time you said those words was the night I was leaving for New York and 20 minutes later, Swill was giving me a lap dance," she looked over his shoulder at the man in question who was slowly unbuttoning his shirt and mouthing 'you loved it' at her.

"Well, fantastic as that was," Dave rolled his eyes. "This is much more entertaining," he slung his arm around her shoulder and steered her towards the kitchen counter. "See, I've only gone and got myself a bird, haven't I?"

"What?" she laughed. "You sly bugger! Who is she?"

"Ah well," he grinned, rubbing his chin as he slid into the seat across from her, determined to take her mind off all this if only for an hour. "That my girl is a story and a half…see, it all started when I was coming home from work…."