Something of nothing really. Just something I was thinking about, so wrote down.

XOXOX

"Counsellin'?!"

His eyes are wide… a strange mixture of awe and trepidation, as if he's not ready to trust his own hearing just yet.

"Yeah. Sort of. Jus'… just a couple of sessions, y'know." Brendan mutters uncomfortably.

"Why?"

"Why?" Brendan frowns, "I'd of thought it was pretty obvious why, wouldn't you?"

His voice is flat, like the very subject of his therapy physically and emotionally drains him. And yet he's persevering with it, because being who he is… who he's become… is more soul-destroying than any amount of counselling could ever be.

"No I mean…" Ste swallows, "Why now?"

Brendan shrugs; non-committal.

Ste mulls this over, his eyes trailing across the floor, and then up Brendan's body until they finally land on his face. For the first time, Brendan notices something in Steven's expression – a sort of… fondness? Or perhaps that was the wrong word. Either way, he's looking at Brendan – really looking at him – as if his eyes can pierce into the most sensitive depths of his soul.

"What?" Brendan asks, shifting defensively. His barriers are coming up, as they always do when he feels Steven knows too much of him. As they always do, when his feelings bubble maddeningly in the pit of his stomach, but there's no way of acting upon them.

"Nothin'." Ste mutters, "I'm jus'… I'm dead proud of ya."

Brendan blinks. And as quickly as they came, the barriers are dissolving. "Really?"

"Yeah." Ste breathes. And he is; Brendan can see it in his eyes, clear as day; the way they shine as they bore into him. "Yeah I… I never thought you'd…"

"I wanna get better, Steven."

Ste nods. Understanding that better than anybody.

And there is a silence for a while, though it is not tense or uncomfortable; on the contrary, the silence is like a safe protector around Brendan's exposing confession.

"So," Ste watches Brendan with genuine interest, "How are ya findin' it?"

Brendan shrugs, "S'not the most fun I've ever had."

"Is it dead hard?"

Brendan stills. Thinks about that for a moment. And decides to answer honestly.

"Yeah." He breathes, "Yeah, it is."

Ste nods, and again Brendan feels that he already knows… that somehow Brendan doesn't need to expand or explain, because he gets it.

"It gets easier." Ste says, "I promise."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, and you won't regret it. I'm so glad you're doin' it Bren, honestly."

"Well thank you."

Another silence. Brendan thinks the subject is over, until Steven is staring at him earnestly again, and his lips are moving slightly as if he's deciding whether or not to speak the words he wants to speak.

"What?" Brendan prompts him.

Ste swallows. He looks at the floor, almost guiltily.

"What Steven?"

"If…" Ste hesitates, and then continues sincerely, "If I had one wish, yeah? It'd be that you were happy."

Brendan feels his heart pang uncomfortably in his chest.

"That's stupid," he bypasses the comment with a façade of nonchalance; "ye get one wish, ye should always ask for one hundred more wishes. Everybody knows that."

Ste sniggers, "Nah, you can't do that."

"Says who?!" Brendan's eyes glisten mischievously.

"I dunno, 's jus' the rules innit?" Ste grins back. And then turns serious again, "I mean it Brendan. I want you to…" he considers his words, "…It hurts, y'know? That you're sad all the time."

"I'm not sad."

"You are." Ste nods, his expression sorrowful. "But… if you keep doin' this counsellin', yeah? Then that can change. You can make a better life for yourself then."

"Hm." Brendan stares stiffly at the floor; unable to look Steven in the eye. Unable to convey to him that he could be happy; that even the thought of waking up with Steven beside him stirs feelings inside that are akin to that of joy… contentment. But he can't tell Steven that, of course, because it's not fair… Steven has a fiancé he's going home to… someone safe and stable and secure… someone he's going to leave Brendan for at any moment.

As if on queue, Ste takes a sudden breath; his eyes jerk away from Brendan's face, and his expression switches from pride to worry. He checks his phone and mutters, "Errr… I'd best be goin' now anyway, me. Doug'll be wonderin' where I am."

"Yeah." Brendan grunts. "Yeah, sure."

Ste gathers up his coat and house-keys… a bit slower than necessary, like he's deliberately stalling… like perhaps there's more he'd like to say but he knows he ought not say it. Or he doesn't have the words maybe. Or perhaps, much like Brendan, he doesn't have a specific reason for wanting to remain in this company… he just does.

But he can't. Their history won't allow it. The series of countless fuck-ups Brendan has made means that he will quite rightly suffer for the rest of his existence. And so now he watches that one chance he has of happiness wander out of his life again, and into the arms of another who is more deserving of him.

He'll continue the counselling… and moronically it will be to make Steven proud, rather than for the belief that it will fix him. It won't, after all. It won't change anything; it won't change what Cheryl saw, it won't change what his father did and it won't change what he did to Steven. It won't bring Steven back. But to see that look in his eyes again – that one that's intense and touches him right there – all the pain of therapy is worth it for that.