The Hard Part | Chapter 5/5
Title: The Hard Part (or How I Let The Boys Boil Over Now In Order To Simmer Down Later)
Chapter: 5/5
Fandom: EastEnders
Characters: Christian Clarke, Syed Masood, Tamwar Masood, Jane Beale.
Pairings: Christian/Syed
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: Up until Thursday 27th January '11
Summary: The true challenge in any relationship comes not in times of peace, but in times of conflict. Can Christian and Syed rebuild from the rubble of their first major fall out? Or has the baby issue just taken them too far?
A/N: So, here we are. The end. I thought that this would be a much longer chapter, but I wasn't about to force more than was needed. Having read a spoiler for the next episode they're in (TOMORROW!) I realised just how much the writers seem to have missed out in terms of character development and plot. So this was skewed towards the new spoilers I have read - to try and make fit what seems to make no sense. Also, I'd like to send a huge thank you out to everyone who has helped to ease my entrance into this fandom; without your support and your guidance and your commitment, I think I may have fled at the first hurdle. So thank you. I hope I have ended this right for you, because it is for you.
Part 4: Salvaging | Masterlist
The Hard Part
5. Laying Stronger Foundations
"Since nothing we intend is ever faultless, and nothing we attempt ever without error, and nothing we achieve without some measure of finitude and fallibility we call humanness, we are saved by forgiveness."
~
David Augsnurger
Christian was the first to crumble under the pressure of the silence; just like he had done just hours - or was it, as he suspected, weeks? - previously.
"Sy…," he said quietly, hauling himself up from the sofa so he could look Syed square in the eye. Or attempt to, at least. The best he could do was let his eyes rest on the lock of stray hair that hung down over his forehead - the closest he could possibly get without feeling the weight of his guilt, and what was left of his anger, pressing intolerably against his chest. Despite the movement, he made sure that he kept the sofa between them; like a low barrier over which they could see one another but, thankfully, couldn't succumb to the temptation to reach out and touch.
"Sy…I'm sorry…I just…"
"No, Christian," Syed put a hand to his forehead, rubbing the tips of his fingers over the bridge of his nose. "It's too late."
Christian felt his chest plummet to the floor, his stomach seeming to split as everything inside him - his organs, his blood, his soul, his heart - spilled out before he could catch them.
Syed seemed to register as the blood drained from his face, the eyes of the younger man widening suddenly as he took a frantic step forward - hand outstretched so that, if he had been just a few metres further forward, it would have been resting reassuringly over Christian's heart.
"No!" he flashed a quick smile, which was obviously more for Christian's benefit than his own. "I didn't mean that…I didn't…I meant…that it's late. The time. I'm just…I'm too tired to do this now. I think we should sleep on it. Deal with it in the morning."
The blood seemed to rush back into Christian's head with a terrifying force, the thumpa-thumpa sweeping through his brain and filling his cheeks with crimson. He licked his lips and nodded once, mirroring Syed's unconvincing smile as he shifted on his feet.
"Oh…yeah…'course. In the morning," he reached down to retrieve the now-cold mug of tea from the floor, wrapping it tightly in his grip before making his way to the kitchen. As he threw it unceremoniously into the sink he turned, tilting his head to look at Syed. "You sure?"
"Yeah," Syed wrapped his arms around his torso, shivering slightly as he rubbed his hands over the tops of his arms. "You got any spare blankets?"
Christian stopped halfway through what he was doing, the tap running cold water over his hand as he glanced confusedly over his shoulder.
"Sure," he frowned, barely noticing as his fingers began to turn red beneath the stream. "Why?"
"Watch out," Syed put his hands on his hips and wandered into the kitchen, leaning back against the wall. "You're wasting water."
"What? Oh," he fumbled with the handle, quickly turning off the freezing torrent. "Thanks. So…blankets…why?"
"Well, when my parent's used to fight one of them would sleep on the couch for the night. It just seems that, if we're going to go to bed without solving this first, then it would be best if I…"
"No," Christian shook his head emphatically, the sharpness of his tone cutting Syed short. A frown creased the brow of the younger man, his nostrils seeming to flare slightly as his lips tightened into a thin line.
"Well, we can't very well sleep in the same bed, can we?" his arms crossed defensively. "I mean, we can't. We just can't. Please don't…"
"I'll take the couch," Christian dried his hands calmly on a towel, his tight expression the only real sign that he was holding anything more inside him. "Seems only fair - I'll go get the blankets."
Syed let out a sigh as Christian disappeared out of the kitchen, returning a few seconds later with a sheet folded over his arm.
"No, Christian. I said I'd sleep on the couch. You can't."
"Why?"
"Because it's your flat!" Syed all but exploded, his arms coming up to emphasise his point before dropping dejectedly to his side. Christian sucked in a breath, his whole body stopping as he reached the couch; his arms seemed to tense beneath the sheet, the veins bulging from his clenched fist.
His tight form would have been intimidating if it wasn't for the sadness that radiated from every pore.
"It's not my flat," he glanced at Syed. "It's your flat too. It's our flat. Both of us. It was yours from the moment you moved in - it was yours before that, even. I just wish I knew how to convince you of that."
Syed took a step forward, arm reaching out as if to rest on Christian's shoulder - but he quickly dropped it, burying his hand in his pocket to avoid further temptation.
"You don't have to," he let out a breath. "You know, let's not fight about who sleeps where. Not after everything else. I don't want to," he sighed suddenly, extricating his hand from his pocket so that he could rub at the back of his neck. "You want the couch?"
"Yeah," Christian shifted, his frozen form beginning to melt slightly under the warmth of broken tension. "I think I need to."
With that he moved further into the room, unfolding the sheet from beneath his arm and spreading it out over hard form of the sofa. Syed watched him as he arranged the thin covering, hovering slightly before turning around and darting away from the living room. With quick, almost fumbling fingers, he grabbed hold of the pillow from Christian's side of the bed and returned swiftly into the main area of the flat.
"Here," he nudged it against Christian's arm once the older man had rid himself of his shirt. "You don't need to be pulling a muscle whilst you're there. You'd never live it down with your clients."
Christian stared at his offering for a few seconds, before he reached out slowly and took a hold of one corner. That should have been Syed's cue to let go - only, he stayed where he was, his fingers gripping onto the fabric so that it hovered between them. Christian licked his lips, glancing downwards at where their hands were - almost - joined together.
"I know that you don't want to talk about it, Sy, and I get that, I do, but…" Christian stopped, his fingers clenching around the soft material as if he could send electric shots through into Syed's hand. "I need you to tell me that you love me. I just need to hear it. Tell me that you love me."
The please remained unspoken, and yet Christian knew that it had been heard. Syed's fingers tightened on the pillow, his fingertips digging deep trenches into the outer lining of the fabric.
"I love you," he said finally, his eyes meeting Christian's properly for the first time. "I really do love you."
A tiny smile quirked at Christian's mouth as Syed let his grip on the pillow loosen. As the weight was transferred to him he took it in both hands, plumping it to give it back its shape before tucking it between the arm and back of the couch. Syed lingered for a few seconds before turning to the bed - only for Christian's voice to stop him halfway.
"I love you, too."
There was a beat before Syed looked over his shoulder, flashing him a sad smile as he lay down on the couch and curled under the sheet.
"Goodnight, Christian."
x
x
Syed awoke to the smell of cooking and the sound of bustling in the kitchen. It took him a few minutes to regain his faculties, his arm reaching out instinctively to Christian's side of the bed. The cold emptiness of the sheets shook him awake - suddenly the bed felt very big around him, swamping him with its vast emptiness.
"Hey."
The sound of Christian's voice rang through his muddled brain, drawing him away from the size of the bed and into reality. He hauled himself up, the duvet pooling around his waist as Christian approached and set a rattling tray down in front of him.
"It's not much," Christian settled himself down on the edge of the bed, drawing his dressing gown around his body. "We didn't have much in. I put some ground pepper in the scrambled eggs, just the way you like it - and the orange juice, it's freshly squeezed as well. Did it myself. And it's harder than it looks - those oranges are tough."
Syed smiled tightly, raising the glass to his lips and taking a sip - tactfully ignoring the pip that butted against his lips as Christian looked on eagerly.
"Wow," he put the glass back down, surveying the food on the tray. "You did this all for me?"
Christian nodded.
"Why?"
"Just felt like it, I guess," he ducked his head suddenly, his mouth tightening guiltily as he avoided Syed's gaze. "And…and because I kinda hoped that, maybe, you'd forgive me and take me back."
His voice was quiet, so quiet that Syed had had to strain to hear him. Syed suddenly felt his appetite melting away, his stomach dropping slightly as he took in the worried, guilty lines crumpling Christian's face.
"Take you back?" he shuffled forwards, ignoring the corner of the tray as it poked into his stomach. "I never left you."
Christian looked doubtful, his face crumpling - despite the simmering anger and frustrations; the knowledge that they had to talk about this like serious adults if they wanted to move on; all Syed wanted to do was lean forward and kiss those lines away.
"I didn't," his hand hovered over Christian's tentatively. "I was angry with you. You were angry with me. I had to get out and clear my head, to…to talk to someone else about it before I came back. I was always going to come back. I promise I was always going to come back. I won't leave you. I love you."
Even as the words left his mouth, he knew how empty his promises could sound. Hadn't he made them before? So many, many times? He could feel it now, that lingering fear which rolled off Christian in waves - that still-there terror that one day Syed was going to up and leave, just like he always had in the past. Syed suspected it was that fear which had made him lash out like that last night. Not that that excused it, not in the slightest - it had hurt, hurt badly, but at least Syed knew partly where it had come from.
"I'm sorry," Christian's voice speared into his thoughts; Syed let his hand rest just beside Christian's fingers, desperate for that neutral ground between grabbing him close and shying away. "I was stupid. I didn't think. I should have asked you, spoken to you, listened to you - but I didn't and I know that was wrong and I just…"
"And I should have been more clear, rather than holding back and just expecting you to understand. I should have let you in, but I didn't. I wish I had."
But Christian was shaking his head, the movement making the tray rattle unsettling in Syed's lap.
"No. I need to take some responsibility for this," his jaw set as he spoke, a determination rippling through every muscle. "I need to let myself feel guilty for a bit. I need to explain myself. I just…I just wanted us to be normal, to be real and I thought that part of that was…I dunno…bringing a kid into it. Which was stupid and hasty and I should have thought it through, but I didn't. It's just…all I could think of was how excited you were last time…
"Last time?" Syed frowned, slightly unwilling to break into Christian's stream but, at the same time, not wanting to let misunderstanding wrap them up in its tangled web again. "What do you mean?"
"With Amira."
"What?" Syed laughed slightly, his fingers inching ever closer to Christian's hand. "I wasn't excited I was…I was so scared, Christian. I was terrified - not just because it was a baby, but because it meant that I was trapped, that there was no way out. I didn't know what to do. I was so confused. Maybe excitement was in there a little bit, but you read me all wrong if you think that I was happy. I wasn't."
Christian's brow knitted together, his neck tensing as he raised his gaze to look into Syed's eyes.
"Really?"
"Yeah," the urge to thread their fingers together was oh-so-tempting, Christian's hand pulling at him like a magnet against iron. "The way I treated you then…it was 'coz I was scared, not because I wanted it. I pushed you away because it felt like the only thing I could do. I wish I hadn't. I regret that every single second of every single day - I hurt you, and that's my fault - not yours, not Amira's, not my family's, no one but me."
For a moment he thought that Christian was going to hook an arm around his neck and pull him close; to hug him against his chest, kiss his hair, and tell him that everything was going to be alright. That's what he'd always wanted from Christian; that's what Christian had always offered. But one glance up at Christian's tight lips, trembling jaw and reddened eyes told him that this situation was different - that their roles were very, very different to what they had always been before.
"I'm sorry," Christian seemed to choke, swallowing back before trying again. "I am so, so sorry. I forget, sometimes, what you gave up to be with me. I don't know how I do, but I do. And I just…assumed…that everything was going to be okay for you. Like I knew what was best. I betrayed you, Sy…worse than what I did on New Year's Eve…I ignored you and I broke something, some kind of trust that was there before. And now Roxy might be pregnant, and I might have broken the one chance you had to fix things with your family and I wouldn't blame you, Sy, I wouldn't blame you if you never wanted to see me again. I wouldn't forgive me if I was in your shoes."
Something broke in Syed - a torrent of emotion pushing through his barriers and sweeping away all that anger and frustration that had been simmering in his mind for so long. That look in Christian's eyes - that guilt, that self pity, that self-hatred, that hurt - was something he had seen in himself when he'd glanced into the mirror on his wedding night. That knowledge that he had done something irreversible, something that would change their lives forever…something that had taken Christian's heart and stomped it into the floor…
"Hey," he moved the tray to the side, crawling out from the under the covers so that he was knelt in front of Christian's quietly shivering form. The older man looked up at him, his face tense and his eyes dripping with unshed moisture.
"It's okay," Syed slid his hands up Christian's arms. "It's all okay."
Then he cupped Christian's face in his palms, tilting his head forward and pressing his lips gently, lingeringly, against the frown lines of his forehead.
There was a brief pause as he moved backwards, Christian's eyes flicking suspiciously across Syed's face, as if he daren't believe - but Syed didn't turn away. Unlike Christian, over a year ago now, he didn't have to turn and walk in the other direction. He never had to, never again. Instead, before he knew it, they'd both moved forward: Christian's arms wrapping around his back as Syed cupped the back of his head, cradling it as it nestled between his neck and his shoulder.
They stayed locked in that position for a few minutes, rocking gently against one another - no tears, no sobs, just gentle, slow breaths as they let themselves reconnect after the vast explosion of their row last night.
Eventually Christian pulled away, a thin, moist film still lingering on his eyes despite the fact that the redness had retreated back into his veins. He took a deep breath, licking his lips as he let his gaze rest uncertainly on Syed's features.
"So, we're…"
"We're okay," Syed smiled, reaching out and loosely threading their fingers together.
The relief that flashed across Christian's face was momentary, but it sent a wave of pleasure shooting through Syed's brain.
"But what about Roxy? She might not be pregnant, but…"
"We'll deal with it," Syed's fingers tightened against Christian's; feeling the thrum of his pulse through his hand. "I hope she isn't but if she is, then we'll deal with it. We have to. And…who knows what I'll think then. Eight months ago, I would have believed…I did believe…that this was wrong; but I don't feel that now, in any way. They told me I couldn't be a good Muslim if I was with you, but you make me a better Muslim, because I'm happy and I can be a better person when I'm with you. So maybe…maybe my mind'll change. I know what I think now, but maybe…it's changed before. I don't know."
Christian waited for a few seconds, his eyes lingering on Syed's face before he swallowed hard.
"I don't expect you to," his tongue swept along his lips nervously, eyes searching. "But I'll never stop hoping that you'll want this as much as me, someday."
His gaze dropped, taking in their entwined fingers; a tiny smile suddenly played on his lips as he ran his thumb over the vein that cut a path through the back of Syed's hand.
"You know they all think we've got our happy ending," he glanced up. "That we've done all our fighting and now we can just relax. But we can't, can we? 'Coz this is the hardest part of this whole thing - sticking with it, being together. Especially because it's like we have to work - we went through so much to be together, if we mess this up we lose everything. That's a hell of a lot of pressure - so if I screw up sometimes, then I'm sorry. I really am. Every single time."
There was a moment of silence before Syed nodded.
"Me too," he brought Christian's hand to his lips, turning it over and pressing an open-mouthed kiss to his palm; it was a very Christian-like gesture, not something that Syed would normally have done, and the hitch in Christian's breath told Syed just how strongly that fact had registered. Give and take. Compromise. Change. Acceptance.
Not Christian's world and Syed's world anymore.
Their world.
He knew instinctively, as Christian moved in to wrap him in a hug - this time Christian was the one doing the hugging, pulling Syed into his chest just like he always did - that perhaps the hardest part of this whole thing was on the horizon. That perhaps they were going to tested more - if that was even conceivable - than they had ever been tested before. And staying together, staying strong, was going to be harder even than getting together in the first place had been.
But right then, with Christian's hands playing softly with his hair and his lips pressing soft kisses to his scalp, he knew that the world could throw whatever it wanted.
This was, and always would be, worth fighting for.
FIN
Part 4: Salvaging | Masterlist
Thank you so much for reading. There were other things I wanted to explore, but I did not want to shoehorn in what did not, naturally, need to be there. So I'll be knocking out a few more fics to accomodate these things!
I hope you have enjoyed it - I hope it has pleased you - and I hope that you'll let me know what you think!
Thank you.