Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, they belong to Hollyoaks!

Summary: The missing weeks after Brendan killed Danny.

A/N: I'll be doing a few chapters with this :)

Your Little Friend

Chapter One

"Not now, Stephen. Not now"

That was how it had begun, and where it should have ended. Brendan knew that a character like Danny wasn't the type to let things go, to forget key moments that could change everything. One glimpse of Stephen was all it took. Brendan knew that only too well. And yet a part of him wondered, always wondered, if things had turned out differently, how he would stand today.

He and Stephen hadn't left things on the best terms before Christmas. Stephen had invited Brendan to a bar, a gay bar no doubt. Brendan had felt the waves of ill ease settle around his shoulders, anchoring him to the world and yet preventing him from becoming a part of it. Stephen had seemed so keen though, and Brendan hated to disappoint him. And yet he didn't know why. He hadn't felt the need before with past lovers to make such a gesture, to be truthful about his intentions.

"I'm here aren't I?"

It really had been that simple. Except it could never be, not really. Brendan had spent the majority of his life hiding who he was and exposure was an alien concept to him, an unthinkable route. But Stephen had stared him down, blue eyes wide with that insistent hope and misplaced adoration. Brendan didn't think he would ever tire of that look. Not ever.

It was much too soon. Brendan had bolted, unable to deal with the looks, even though on later reflection, no one had batted an eyelid. Why would they? They were the same. Not the same as him, nor Stephen. They were different. They were them.

Brendan had retreated, gone back to Belfast for the kids. He told himself he would have gone anyway but he didn't even know what to believe anymore. Every day he was over there he expected Stephen to call, to bitch and whine about what had happened. But he didn't. There was no contact. It made Brendan twitchy. The amount of times Eileen had slapped his leg to stop it bouncing in agitation; particularly at the dinner table when Brendan was supposed to play the family man when all he could really think of was the blue eyed boy he'd left behind.

He had eventually gotten a grip on himself. His kids were important. But even they seemed wary of him, uncertain. Brendan only ended up staying for five days. Eileen had seemed pleased to see the back of him. Brendan didn't blame her.

Once he returned, everything was business again. Danny was in town, getting agitated by Warren Fox's continued presence. He wanted Brendan to take care of it, veiled threats rolling off Brendan's back like water. But then Danny had played his trump card.

Vinnie.

Brendan remembered years ago back in Liverpool; that dirty blond head, cheeky grin, all long limbs splayed across Brendan's mattress. He had been an easy fuck. Brendan kept him in check easily enough, except for when Vinnie got far too attached. Brendan had ended things abruptly, going back to Eileen and the kids without so much as a goodbye. Vinnie had tried to reach him of course and eventually Brendan had given in. He told him it was over, that it all meant nothing, that Brendan was married and he wasn't like Vinnie. Wasn't gay. Vinnie had protested, had pleaded with Brendan to change his mind. He used the L word. Brendan had almost thrown his phone across the room.

"Give it up, kid. It's done. Take care of yourself"

That was it. The lad lingered in his mind for some time after, only dissipating when Brendan found a new conquest, Macca. He wasn't like Vinnie; he was older for one thing, a little more world wise. Brendan respected him a great deal, for the most part. Again, it hadn't lasted. Brendan had moved to England, moved in with Cheryl, managed the club and met Stephen.

Like Vinnie, Stephen had been impressionable, naïve. There was a resemblance there.

"Does he remind you of anyone? Young, scrawny. Your little friend from Liverpool"

But there was something about Stephen. Brendan felt drawn to him in a way that he hadn't with the others. Maybe it was because he had kids like Brendan, or was damaged like he was. Something connected them. Brendan could rage at himself for feeling this way but it was undeniable. He wouldn't be parted from him. It was unthinkable.

And so, when Danny had revealed Vinnie's true fate and threatened Stephen with the same, something inside Brendan had broken. At first he had buried it, taken Danny's task to hand by focusing on Warren. Brendan was in his element, cracking jokes and one-liners, feeding off the power. When all was said and done however, Brendan was terrified.

Warren had gone to take care of Danny, whatever that meant. Brendan had lingered outside the club, attempting to call Stephen. No answer. His breath ghosted in front of him, the village eerily quiet. There was something about this day. It held significance of some kind. The Christmas festivities were long over and Brendan was glad. Now all that was left were the dull remnants of supposed Christmas spirit. Brendan imagined that Stephen had spent it with the kids, re-wrapping presents from the year before. Except he'd made sure Stephen had gotten a Christmas bonus, a rather generous one. The kids would have a good Christmas, thanks to Brendan.

Brendan checked his watch impatiently. He couldn't linger any longer. He went back inside to seek them out. Everything had gone smoothly; not for Danny of course but he deserved to be double-crossed as far as Brendan was concerned.

"And then you do one" Brendan had said.

Danny had turned to Warren, handing him the papers. The smile didn't leave his face as he looked back at Brendan.

"Does he know your dirty little secret?"

Brendan had breathed out, keeping his cool.

"Danny. Shut yer mouth"

"What secret?" Warren piped up from behind. Brendan barely heard him, eyes fixed on Danny.

"Oh, he doesn't, does he?"

"What secret, Danny?" Warren repeated, an annoying hum in the background.

"You two girls are going to have so much fun together"

"I said shut yer mouth" Brendan was growing angrier by the minute. His fists curled at his sides, itching with the need to lash out. He kept his head, for now.

"You wanna be careful who you get into bed with, Warren. You never know where this one's been. You know when I'm done here, I think I'll pay your little friend a visit"

That one phrase your little friend, that had so many connotations. Vinnie, and now Stephen. His Stephen. Flashes. His face swimming before his eyes, spurring him on. Brendan didn't even need to think about it, he just reacted.

"Shut up!"

Kissing him.

"Shut up!"

Being pushed away by him.

"Shut up!"

Lying with him.

"Shut up!"

Holding him by the mouth. Wanting him near and away from him at once.

And then it was over. He vaguely felt Warren pulling him away. He felt as though he were out of his body, watching at the side. This wasn't him. This hadn't happened.

The smell of blood hit Brendan first. Warren checked Danny's body. Dead. Gone. Forever. Brendan wanted to laugh in relief, and vomit in agony. Stephen was safe, but Danny was dead. Brendan had killed him. He couldn't get his head around it.

He wanted to scream, cry, curse. But Warren was still in the room and he didn't want to appear weak. Story of Brendan's life. Instead, he began to laugh. Bubbling hysteria that sounded odd and distorted in the silence of the room. Warren stared at him in bewilderment. Brendan didn't care. Eventually his laugh sounded hollow, at least to his ears. It died out. Everything darkened. Eyes shut to the act.

And suddenly everything cleared. Brendan had to move forward, make Warren help him dispose of the body. If he kept busy, he could forget. For one moment it could be a horrible nightmare and not reality. But when he did stop, just for a second, and his hand shook, betraying him, Brendan thought of Danny's cold, shocked expression. Then he thought of Stephen's smile, light and beautiful in the dimness of his bedroom. His chest lifted, his stomach churned. If he knew… would he look at him that way again?

Once Danny sunk, Brendan looked to the sky. It was done. Warren had come through.

"Burn everything you're wearing. Clean the club, top to bottom"

Brendan barely registered his words. He went home, Cheryl was fast asleep on the sofa. Brendan carefully pulled a blanket over her. How could he be a brother to her now? What was he? What was he for? He tried to tell himself it didn't matter, that he didn't care, that he was above such irrational thoughts. Somehow his fingers dialled Stephen's number. Straight to voicemail.

He ran to the toilet, unloading his stomach until he was spent. He remained on the floor, calling Stephen's number over and over again, listening to his voicemail message, eyes wet and teeth drawn back. His mind thought back to before Christmas and what he had thought of himself then.

"I know I've made some mistakes, but I wish you'd see some good in me. I can change"

Could he? Brendan wasn't so sure anymore. He threw his phone against the wall, closing his eyes and burying his head in his arms. He would have stayed there all night if Cheryl hadn't came in, concerned. She made him go to bed.

"Get some rest, you look awful" she'd said. Brendan had nodded, making odd little sounds in the back of his throat. He laid in bed, eyes wide and unseeing. He didn't sleep.