The Art of Trying (Part 13)
Woaaahhh, look at this, a quick update! ;)
XOXOXOX
“Wh… what did you say?!”
Brendan turned from Stephen’s sleeping figure to Cheryl, fixing his eyes on his sister seriously. “I said I want him to move in with us.”
Cheryl blinked, momentarily struggling to find the right words. “A…are you sure that’s a good idea, I mean… after everything that happened between you two?”
“I’m not proposin’ Cheryl; I’m sayin’ he can have the spare room!”
“But that’s our Dads room…”
“Yeah, but or Dad’s gone, hasn’t he?!”
“But he might come back…”
“Cheryl, no ones heard from him in two weeks! Jus’ face it, he’s fucked off again.”
Cheryl’s eyes glistened for a moment with confused and lost tears. Brendan looked away; he didn’t want to see that. It had been two weeks since his confrontation with his father. And he couldn’t tell anyone what had happened. Nobody could know.
So he’d told Cheryl a lie; Mr Brady had disappeared and obviously gone back to Ireland… he wasn’t answering his phone, probably because he’d lost it or something. He left because he had business back home, most probably.
And Cheryl had believed him. Brendan had felt bad, sure; guilty that he was making Cheryl worry, and guilty every time he watched her making endless phonecalls to endless family members, asking if they’d seen him. None of them had, of course.
It was for her own good anyway, that she didn’t know where he was. With a bit of luck she’d never have to see his scumbag face again. It was better for everyone.
“Well…” she muttered, hastily changing the subject back to the matter at hand, “Does Ste want to live with us?”
“I haven’t asked him yet, have I?”
“Well Brendan he’s gonna be released soon; if he’s coming home with us we’ll have to make arrangements won’t we? When are you gonna ask?!”
“I don’t know!” Brendan hissed, cautious not to wake the subject of their conversation. “Maybe… I dunno, maybe you can ask him?”
Cheryl scoffed. “Oh come on.”
“What?!”
“Brendan Brady, you’re not scared are you?!”
“What?! No, course not!!” Brendan snapped, looking down at the floor and improvising; “It’ll jus’ mean more to him comin’ from you, won’t it?”
“HOW would it?!”
“It’s your house! Technically.”
Cheryl laughed mockingly, watching with overpowering fondness as her brothers face shone red with embarrassment and he did his upmost to hide it. Ridiculous really, she thought, that after all they’d been through Brendan couldn’t just come out and say it: Stephen, I want you to live with me. I want you to be with me so I can make sure you’re taken care of, because I’m a love-struck old fool who despite every impression I try to give of myself, OBVIOUSLY can’t stand life without you. She smiled at the thought. She knew the vague details of Brendan and Ste’s past relationship, and she knew it hadn’t been plain-sailing before… but she knew Brendan loved that lad. And that’s all that mattered to her; her brother being happy.
Still, having Ste around wouldn’t be easy, what with his current situation. The hospital had already been talking about making adjustments to his living environment; special equipment to be fitted in the home in order to make life easier for him while his coordination wasn’t great.
He was improving though.
Even over the last couple of weeks, Ste had shown a relentless determination to get himself back on track and back to normal. He wanted to remember everything he’d forgotten, relearn every ability he’d lost and restore all normality as though nothing had happened. That determination could sometimes destroy him; resulting in frustrated tears which he tried admirably to hide, but which always ended up staining the shoulder of Brendan’s suit. Leah and Lucas had visited once, and both been pretty spooked by their daddy’s almost lost expression, his new quietness and social-detachment. They’d left pretty quickly. That had been the hardest part.
He’d also suffered two panic attacks since his waking up, which the doctors said was perfectly normal considering his condition, but which had scared the shit out of the person witness to them: Brendan, on both occasions.
It was only natural then that Brendan wanted Stephen at home with him, where he could make sure for certain that everything was okay with him and running smoothly. He was responsible for this, after all. He had let it happen, right under his nose. He was the one here day in and day out, talking to Stephen when Stephen was in the mood for it, and even holding his hand on occasions. He was his friend.
Although Amy in no way agreed.
“Brendan, no.”
“H…how can you even say that?!” Brendan snapped incredulously, “It’s not up to you, is it, it’s up to him!!”
“Brendan, I mean it; don’t even ask him!”
“Why not?!”
“You know why not!!!” Amy fumed, exasperated. “You may think he’s all cute and vulnerable now, but how long till you get sick of him and start SMACKIN’ him round again - behind closed doors this time!!”
“That’s not fair.”
“Isn’t it?!? I swear to God, Brendan, if you ask him…”
“Then we’ll see how HE feels!!”
“NO! Because you twist his mind! This isn’t fair Brendan, this isn’t fair on anyone!”
“Look,” Brendan sighed, his fists creasing in his hair in frustration. “You’ve got a job ye need to be at. Stephen needs someone to be with him in the day…”
“You’ve got a job!!”
“Yeah, but I can do shifts with Cheryl and Lynsey! An’ he doesn’t want the kids seein’ him like this, you know he doesn’t…”
“…Brendan…”
“An’ you can visit any time ye like if ye don’t trust me! He… he can leave any time he likes; he’s a big boy, Amy!”
Amy took a deep breath, and Brendan could have sworn he saw the beginnings of tears start to show behind her eyelids. Wow, she was really serious about this. She didn’t trust Brendan at all, did she? She really really hated him.
“Please.” She spoke softly, calmly, desperately trying to get through to the man she’d spent months and months detesting. “Please Brendan, just… leave it. He’s not in the right state for you to put him through any more hassle…”
“I’m not going to…”
“YOU ARE RIGHT NOW!!!” Amy screamed. “GOD, won’t you… won’t you think about ANYONE but YOURSELF for a change?!? This isn’t about YOU; this is about STE and what’s best for him! He just needs security. And stability. He doesn’t need to be getting back into a fucked-up relationship, and YES Brendan, that’s ALL THAT YOU CAN GIVE HIM.”
With that, Amy seized her handbag and stormed away, giving Brendan just a tiny glimpse of a hardened tear falling down her cheek before she did so.
So in the end, Brendan forgot about it.
Stupid idea anyway.
Fuck it, maybe Amy was right. Sure, right now he was in a state where he could never imagine laying a finger on Stephen again; the very idea shook him to the core. But he’d felt that before, many times… and yet somehow he’d lost himself. Even before in throws of passion, somehow Brendan’s fists had thrown. It was something he couldn’t control. And that alongside his uncontrollable feelings for the lad… it was recipe for disaster.
Amy was right. Stephen was safer without him.
XOXOXXO
“I’m jus’ gettin’ dead bored now.” Stephen muttered, fidgeting about as he usually did to try and get himself into a comfortable position.
The changes in Stephen were small, and yet glaringly obvious to anybody who knew him well, such as Brendan did. Simple things… like his voice was more quiet now. Perhaps it was a shy uncertain thing, or perhaps it would stay that way forever. Brendan couldn’t really get used to it being like that; he was used to Stephen rabbiting on aimlessly with that annoyingly endearing chavvy accent accentuated loudly. He was never self-aware then; never.
“Only another week.” Brendan spoke quietly. “Then ye go home.”
“Yeah.” Ste nodded, licking his lips momentarily in what seemed to be a quick glimpse of nerves, although he hastily hid it. “An’ you know Rodger? He can still be my physiotherapist, he says, even when I’m not in here. He’s gonna come to mine.”
Brendan’s stomach jolted unnervingly.
Oh… Rodger.
Famous fucking Rodger. Stephen hadn’t shut up about him since they first met two weeks ago; Rodger was an employee in the hospital trying to help Stephen with his muscles, his reflexes, his memory, his speech… everything. Apparently there was nothing St.Rodger couldn’t do. Or at least in Stephen’s mind:
“An’ he’s dead funny, you know?!” He’d told Brendan with a rare bout of excitement that he hadn’t demonstrated since the attack. “Like, he takes it all seriously and that, but then he’s fun as well, you know? So it’s like - best of both worlds, innit?” His grin had been large and his eyes were shining again. This Rodger bloke had had a good effect on him; boosted his confidence and hope. Something both Brendan and Amy had been trying to do since the moment Stephen woke up.
“What do ye mean, he’s gonna come to yours?” Brendan asked, trying to ignore the bubbling feeling of jealousy cringing away in his chest.
“Well he does that n’all. He doesn’t just stick round here, he does visits as well.”
“How often?”
“He says three times a week at first. An’ then we’re gonna try and get it down, you know, as I get better.”
“Yeah…” Brendan muttered.
“So that’s good, innit?”
Brendan dragged his eyes up from the floor and met those of Stephen’s, which right now were almost pleading with him for some shared-enthusiasm. He wanted Brendan to tell him it was going to be okay. He wanted Brendan to tell him it wouldn’t last forever - all this - and soon Stephen would be back to normal. Except Brendan had already told him that over and over, and every time he did it just seemed to make Stephen more frustrated. He couldn’t win.
“It’s not gonna happen overnight ye know.” Brendan spoke quietly.
“Y…yeah. I know. But…”
“Yer not gonna walk out of here an’ be able to get back to work or get back to yer life, I mean… ye don’t even remember where ye live Stephen!”
“I do now!” Stephen argued, “I remembered, didn’t I, when…”
“Fine. So I’ll send a taxi next week, an’ you can get yerself home, can you?!”
“Wh…” Stephen’s face fell. “Why are you bein’ like this?”
“I’m not bein’ like anything, Stephen, I’m being realistic!!” Brendan groaned, exasperated more-so by Stephen’s hurt expression. “What are ye gonna do when Amy’s at work in the day, huh? Or is Rodger gonna come round then too, to make ye food and help you get dressed?!”
“I can do it you know, jus’ not easil…”
“… you can’t do it, Stephen.” Brendan said plainly. Because it was true. Stephen taking 30 minutes before he could successfully pull a shirt on properly was not doing it. Him spending 20 minutes trying to grip a knife hard enough to cut was not doing it. That was suffering. That was ridiculous.
Stephen’s eyes shone with hurt and disappointment right now; he didn’t want to hear this. He wanted Brendan to tell him he was great, he’d be back on his feet in no time; well tough.
“Look, me tellin’ ye you’re doin’ well all the time isn’t gonna help, is it?” Brendan sighed.
“But I’m tryin’ my best…”
“I know you are!!”
“So…” Ste grit his teeth together, trying to suppress emotions that he didn’t have the physical or mental strength to deal with right now. “So what’s your point then?! Why are you bein’ so…”
“I’m just sayin’ you need help.”
“Yeah, and I’m aware of that, thanks!”
“Well I don’t think you are.”
“Uh, I don’t wanna talk about it Brendan. If you’re gonna be such a dick you may as well…”
Don’t say it.
You’re twisting his mind.
He’s not in the state to deal with you and your fucked-up feelings.
“Stephen, I want you to live with me.”
Fuck.
Stephen fell instantly silent, his jumbled emotional spiels collapsing pathetically into nothing. He looked at Brendan - stunned.
He was not expecting this, clearly.
And now Brendan felt exposed and stupid. Christ, why wasn’t Stephen saying anything?! Why had he put himself on the line like this, when now spoken out-loud is was OBVIOUSLY ridiculous. Why would Stephen ever move in with Brendan? After everything - all the sordid secrets, brutal punches, broken promises. After they’d worked hard not so long ago to put it all behind them and be friends, and yet here was Brendan now, breaking the boundary between what was socially acceptable and what not.
But he couldn’t stop himself. The silence was suffocating and he heard himself babbling - actually babbling - nervously in explanation:
“I mean… I can drop some shifts at the club to, you know, stay with ye. Or… of if you’d rather I didn’t, I mean, Cheryl can always do the same, I’d have to clear it with her. An’… you know, I’m talkin’ about the spare room. Or not - as the case may be. I jus’… it’s up to you, it was just an idea… stupid idea, really. I dunno what I was thinkin’…”
“I…”
Brendan fell silent immediately, eyes wavering, uncertain, upon Stephen’s equally unsure expression.
“…why?” he whispered after a moment.
“Cos…” Brendan cleared his throat, thinking how to answer that. Why? Now there was a question.
Because this was Brendan’s fault. Because he wouldn’t be able to sleep at night not knowing how Stephen was coping with his new situation. Because despite them just being ‘friends’ he couldn’t stand the idea of Stephen being more dependant on this Rodger bloke than he was on him. Because he cared about him… because he couldn’t stand not being near him… because, even now, even after everything… he fucking loved him, didn’t he?
“I jus’… I jus’ wanna help, Stephen. That’s all.”
Stephen swallowed slowly. His tooth nibbled down on his lip in hesitation, looking confused and emotional and nervous.
“Brendan,” he croaked, “We are… we are jus’ friends aren’t we?”
“Yeah. Yeah, course we are.”
“I don’t wanna get hurt anymore.” He whispered, his head shaking almost frantically, while sincere, haunted tears filled his eyes. Brendan had scarred him from his behavior, and this was the result: Stephen was cautious and untrusting, even when Brendan was offering him earnest care.
“Stephen, I swear. I… I wouldn’t.”
“I know, but you say that now…”
“Okay.” Brendan nodding. He understood. Amy said it, Stephen said it, Brendan knew it. This was a bad idea. “Okay, don’t worry about it, it was stupid…”
“No.”
Stephen blinked, lips hovering open and thinking it all through in his head.
“I want to.” He mumbled, almost inaudibly.
Brendan swallowed, hardly able to believe it. It had been hypothetical really… not it was becoming a reality… a whole different ball-game…
“Y…you do?”
Stephen nodded, sniffing and wiping his nose with the back of his hand.
“It’ll be alright, won’t it?”
“Yeah.” Brendan felt an exhilarated, breathless smile stretching onto his face. “Yeah, course it will.”
And Stephen smiled too… a small, shaky one… but a real one all the same. “And we won’t get on each others nerves, d’you think?”
“Well, I’m not gonna lie Stephen, I am pretty annoying.”
Stephen laughed. Actually laughed. And now Brendan thought about it, it was probably the first time he had done since waking up two weeks ago.
“I guess I can put up with ya.” He replied, smiling.
“Yeah.” Brendan nodded, adamant. His heart was hammering and for one ridiculous second he felt like a stupid teenager again… elated… fresh. He hoped it wasn’t showing too much in his expression - his ego couldn’t handle that - but for some reason he had little control over the smile he was presenting now.
“I’ll tell Amy.” Ste thought aloud.
“Yeah, that’s probably for the best.”
“An’ you’re not gonna change your mind?”
“No. I’ve been thinkin’ about this for a long time.”
Actually, a longer time than even Stephen could imagine. He didn’t know, did he? He didn’t know that back in July, when Brendan was getting rid of Noah, how he’d also been planning to ask the question then. Because those months when Stephen had been with someone else had been hard, and cold and harsh and empty. And Brendan had wanted nothing more than to have him there, in the house with him. All the time.
He had been planning to ask him all the way back then, before Eileen came back and threw everything to this shit again.
After that Brendan was sure he’d never get Stephen back.
And yet, this was really happening now. Yes, they were just friends, but that didn’t really matter right now. Stephen liked him. Trusted him, respected him and was now going to be with him, whenever Brendan wanted. It was going to be perfect.
And finally Brendan could do something good for him.