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

Summary: Brendan is sent to prison where he befriends a fellow inmate.

A/N: This fic is a bit different. It isn't strictly Stendan but there are clear hints. It's mostly Brendan and another male character. Thanks to Elle and Maya for the great idea :)

Faded Photographs

Brendan trudged along the gravel, his wrists displayed in front of him in handcuffs. His head was bent low; his hair was mussed and unkempt. He was being led along by two prison guards who both fashioned stony expressions to compliment their somewhat hardened exteriors. Brendan couldn't even find it in him to make a cutting remark; ever since the day before his humour had taken a holiday it wasn't likely to return from any time soon.

When the police had first questioned him over India and Rebecca's murders he had put on a front; a mask. He made it seem as though he was unmoved by the detectives' questions, as though their leading questions wouldn't touch him. But when things started to get a bit more serious and it seemed more than likely that he would get the blame for this, things had started to sink in.

They had let him out on bail at first; made him swear he wouldn't leave the country. He had to admit, it had crossed his mind. But Cheryl was the one who made him stay. She told him he'd only be making things worse for himself and this whole thing would blow over soon. Only it hadn't. And now Brendan was going to prison.

It was only pending trial and yet Brendan was unnerved. Even more so because he hadn't actually committed this crime and it made him livid to think he was getting sent down for something he didn't even do.

When he had been let out on bail he had gone straight to the club and immediately reached for the whiskey. He'd had several visitors that day. Cheryl had popped in for the inevitable pep talk. Now that there was a danger of him not being around she seemed to soften towards him. Only slightly though. After she had left, Douglas arrived…

"Brendan" Douglas gritted his teeth angrily, his arms folded.

"Dougie" Brendan greeted him, moving out from around the bar. "Now what can I do for ye?"

"Why are you still here?" Douglas asked with pure venom in his voice.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Brendan asked curiously, stepping a bit closer to Douglas. He didn't even flinch.

"You killed Bex! And I told the police that, so why the hell aren't you in prison?"

Brendan took a deep breath, chewing on his fingernail in agitation. He couldn't help the grin which spread across his face. It was almost a nervous reaction. He stepped right up close to Douglas, practically chest to chest. He had to give the boy credit, he stood his ground. They looked at each other for several moments. Douglas' jaw twitched in agitation. Brendan's hands curled into fists. Douglas closed his eyes as though expecting a smack.

"Douglas" Brendan said quietly, uncurling his fists. "I didn't kill Rebecca" he said calmly, stepping back. "I have no idea who did. Why would I kill her? I have what I want"

"But you threatened her"

"Only to keep her in line. I don't hurt women, Douglas"

Douglas looked uncertain for a moment. He stared morosely at the ground. Brendan stepped behind the bar again and opened a beer for him, which he rolled down the bar to Douglas. Douglas looked up and took a seat, holding the beer in his limp hand. Poor kid was messed up.

"Do ye believe me?" Brendan asked.

"I don't know what to believe anymore" Douglas replied, taking a swig of his beer.

They were silent for several moments.

"Well, if that's all then…" Brendan said, gesturing towards the stairs.

"Yeah" Douglas grunted, downing his beer and slamming it on the bar. He turned to leave.

"Douglas"

"What?"

"Take it easy. I know it's hard, losing someone ye love, but ye have to deal with it, alright?"

Douglas turned around, his face incredulous. "And what would you know about love?"

"More than ye know" Brendan murmured.

Douglas looked curious for a moment but then shook his head and headed down the stairs.

Brendan's next visitor was Stephen.

"Brendan" he said quietly, wincing as he came up the stairs.

Brendan stared at him blankly. "What are ye doing here, Stephen?"

"I came to see if you were okay"

"Why?"

Stephen looked up at him, his eyes shining. "Because believe it or not, I still care about you. I don't want to see you go to prison for something you didn't do"

"How do you know I didn't do it?" Brendan asked easily, not moving any closer to Stephen.

Stephen took a step forwards. "Because I know you. You don't hurt women"

Brendan rolled his eyes to the ceiling. "Doesn't mean I'm a good guy, Stephen. Ye know that more than anyone"

Stephen swallowed and bowed his head a little. "I know, I just wanted to… I don't know, see if you were okay"

"Ye should stay away from me. Ye have that boyfriend now"

Stephen looked at him in confusion for a moment. "Right, Noah" he didn't sound too enthused.

Stephen stepped forwards again. Brendan still didn't move.

"What are ye really doing here, Stephen?" Brendan asked tiredly.

"I came to…warn you"

Brendan's brow furrowed. "Warn me?"

"I heard Ethan on the phone this morning, talking to one of his superiors. They're gonna take you in"

Brendan let this sink in for a moment. "Right" he said after a while. "So much for it all blowing over, Chez" he muttered dryly.

"Look, Bren" Stephen said, stepping right in front of Brendan. "This could be it, this is so serious". Stephen looked genuinely anxious and upset. Brendan hated seeing him that way but he couldn't bring himself to comfort him. Stephen deserved better.

"Ye need to get out of here, Stephen" Brendan said tersely, stepping away from him. It was hard enough staying away from him without having to breathe in his scent. It made Brendan want to touch him, hold him.

Stephen grabbed Brendan's hands. "I'm not going anywhere! They can't take you away"

"Stephen" Brendan warned, feeling exhausted.

"Bren, please" Stephen looked at Brendan earnestly, his eyes moist. He leaned forwards and kissed Brendan softly on the lips. Brendan found himself kissing him back, his hand wrapped in his hair. For the next few moments it was all lips, teeth and hands. Brendan knew somewhere deep inside him that this must stop. They shouldn't be doing this. Stephen needed to stay away. Eventually Brendan seized the presence of mind to pull away. Stephen touched his lips gingerly, looking distinctly disappointed.

"Go, Stephen. Now" Brendan said bluntly, walking away from him.

"But-"

"No buts! Go!" Brendan shouted, his eyes wild. Stephen stood his ground, frustratingly.

"I will not go"

"Ye have to. If Ethan sees ye here he'll know ye warned me"

"I don't care!"

"Well I do!" Brendan pressed his lips together, cursing himself for his choice of words.

Stephen's expression softened. "I know you still care about me! Just tell me the truth. Tell me you don't want me and I'll go, right now, and you'll never see me again" Stephen stood that little bit straighter.

Brendan was stunned momentarily. He bared his teeth in aggravation. He knew what he had to do, there was no other choice.

"Ye live in a fantasy world, Stephen. If ye think I'm gonna run off with ye and play happy boyfriends then ye don't know me at all"

Stephen looked hurt for a moment but he didn't look convinced by Brendan's words.

"You're only saying that because you're going to prison"

"No" Brendan said bluntly. "I'm saying it because I don't want ye. I don't l-"

"Stop" Stephen held up a hand, tears starting to stream down his face. "Don't say any more. I'll go. I was an idiot for thinking you would ever change"

"Ye" Brendan agreed, his mask still firmly in place.

Stephen turned towards the stairs. When his back was turned, Brendan felt a momentary grief strike him and grip at his insides. All he wanted to do was reach out, call Stephen back, tell him he cared. But he couldn't. Stephen deserved better. When Stephen turned around for one last look, all he saw was Brendan's reinforced stony face, unrelenting.

After he had gone, the police had arrived. Ethan had smiled at him smugly as he was led away. And now here he was, actually going to prison. It made him feel sick inside. If only his kids could see him now…

It was the most demoralising feeling, having his watch and bracelet taken away from him along with his regular clothes. The prison uniform was dire. It was a darkened blue; the sleeves were cut to Brendan's shoulders. His arm muscles flexed, unused to being on display like this. His fingers brushed against the tattoo on his arm. At least he would blend in.

He was shown into his cell, the door clanked shut behind him. Brendan paced back and forth, hating the feeling of being caged like this. He wrung his hands together in agitation, wishing he could hit something to vent his rage.

Suddenly he was interrupted by a voice.

"Hello"

Brendan's head snapped to the bottom bunk bed. A man laid there, his arms above his head. His prison uniform was stretched over him, exposing part of his stomach. Brendan found his eyes drawn there.

"What's your name?" The man asked, rising from the bed. He was taller than Brendan by about a head. He was dark haired, his hair un-styled and a little mussed. He wasn't overly muscled but his arms were huge.

"Brady" Brendan said gruffly. "Brendan Brady"

"I'm Ray"

"Raymond?"

"Just Ray" Ray said bluntly. He shook Brendan's hand. He had a stiff handshake.

"What are ye in for then?" Brendan asked, sitting down on the only chair in the cell.

"Ah nothing exciting, theft" Ray said, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"What did ye steal?"

"A hundred grand"

"Hm, not much then" Brendan replied, smirking.

Ray grinned back at him. Brendan found himself starting to relax.

"And you?"

Brendan looked down at his hands. "Murder, supposedly. Didn't do it though"

"Yeah?"

Brendan looked Ray squarely in the eyes. They were dark brown in colour. "Ye"

"I believe you" Ray said seriously, his eyes never leaving Brendan's.

"Just like that?"

"Trust me, Brendan. I've been in and out of here countless times. I can tell a liar from a straight man any day"

Brendan coughed suddenly.

"You alright?" Ray asked, standing as though he was about to pat him on the back.

"Fine" Brendan said gruffly, holding up a hand.

Ray sat down again. "You in here long, Bren?"

"Brendan" Brendan said reflexively. He didn't know why it bothered him so much. Only Cheryl and Stephen called him that. Brendan felt a dull ache at the thought of them.

"Don't like shortened names, do ya?" Ray smiled. It made Brendan uneasy how this guy seemed to know his thoughts and moods.

Brendan grunted in response.

"You'll do alright here, Brendan. Just stick with me and you'll be fine"

"Oh ye? What makes ye so special?"

Ray raised his eyebrows. "Didn't anyone tell you? I'm the boss around here"

"Excuse me?" Brendan said wearily.

"Every prison has its top guns, and I'm one of 'em"

"Right" Brendan said uneasily.

"Don't look so anxious"

"I'm not"

"Good. You're my cell mate, we stick together"

"I don't plan on staying here long" Brendan muttered, wringing his hands together.

"You've gotta cut that attitude out or you'll never survive"

"Right" Brendan said again.

Ray sighed and lay out across the bed. "You can have the top bunk, if you want. Not so keen on heights myself"

"Hm, thanks" Brendan murmured. He glanced at the wall by Ray's bed. There were a few pictures there. Ray with friends, men and women. No children. There was one picture of a man with tawny blonde hair and dazzling green eyes. Ray had his arm around him in the picture.

Ray followed Brendan's gaze and sighed. "That's my ex, didn't wanna put up with me keep coming in here so he broke it off. You got a fella mate?"

Brendan was taken aback. His hands balled into fists. "I ain't queer"

Ray looked shocked for a moment but then his face settled into an easy smile. It was almost pitying.

"Right" he said, mimicking Brendan. "See you in the morning then"

Brendan didn't say another word. He climbed up onto the top bunk and laid back, his arms firmly by his sides. Eventually he moved to take out his own photographs. One of him and Cheryl, the other of him and his boys. He rested them on the wood panel of the bed and stared at them. He wouldn't cry. Not here. He was a man; he had to deal with this.

He reached out and found another picture. He'd had this one for a while. He had taken it on his phone when Stephen had been sleeping beside him; that last time… Brendan shook his head and blinked a few times, still refusing to cry. He tucked the picture of Stephen underneath his pillow. He didn't want anyone to see that.

That night, Brendan didn't sleep.