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This chapter is brought to you by the puddle formerly known as Alex, who tragically melted in the 36C heat 🙈 Fahrenheit users, please convert this yourselves, I am too melted to look it up. Anyway, enjoy! It’s a long one, xx

As ever, Cassie belongs to my darling twin and beta reader, @peakyscillian and you can read Cassie and Sean's story HERE

Summary: Bella races to the hospital to see her brother and spends a long 24 hours dealing with her complicated family as Steve faces questions at Stanton.

Warnings: Usual warnings for themes of drug abuse and infidelity, with added warnings for alcohol abuse, childhood neglect and some truly terrible parenting. I promise it's more fun that all that sounds! 🙈

Word count: 13,578 PART 9 | SERIES

10. Wounded

"You didn't have to be so mean to him," you mumbled as Celia raced through the city towards the hospital.

"He's lucky he was still standing," she snapped, zipping through an amber light on the cusp of turning red. "But we were in a hurry."

Chuckling softly, you leaned back against the headrest. "Owen is going to have a lot of questions."

"Do you seriously think they don't already know?"

"They don't. Andy's theory is Steve and Amanda are sleeping together."

Celia burst out laughing. "Wow… he's so old that not even your colleagues think he'd be able to get you."

"Fuck off," you mumbled, warmth climbing your face.

Celia dropped you as close as she could get to the entrance of A&E letting you rush ahead while she found somewhere to park. For a Wednesday night it was surprisingly busy, most of the hard, orange plastic chairs taken. You fidgeted with your coat, jigging slightly on the spot as you waited for an elderly gentleman to finish talking to the woman at the reception desk; apparently he was determined to list every single symptom known to man. And perhaps several others as yet undiscovered by science. The receptionist flicked a severe glance at you when your agitated hovering was accompanied by an accidental huff of irritation as he launched into a whole new set of ailments.

Noticing her no longer held her rapt, undivided attention he turned to look at you and you pasted on your most winning smile.

"I'm so sorry to interrupt," you said, still beaming tightly at him before turning it on the receptionist, "but I had a call that my bother was brought in earlier, and I was told he was being taken for surgery. Please, can you tell me where he is?"

"Excuse me, I wasn't—"

"Just a moment, Mr Radley," said the woman behind the desk. "Name?"

You rattled off Ash's full name, as well as your own for good measure.

"He calls me Birdie," you added, now leaning on the desk, a thoroughly unimpressed Mr Radley tutting to himself beside you.

"Any news?" asked Celia, appearing at your other elbow, slightly out of breath.

"He's been moved upstairs to theatre," said the woman. "Floor three."

Racing to the lifts you were practically vibrating with anxiety.

"This is taking too long," you muttered, casting around for the door to the stairs. Why were hospitals always so bloody disorienting??

Celia linked her arm through yours to hold you still before you could bolt.

"Just wait, it'll be here in a sec."

As if on cue, the lift furthest from you chimed, wide doors peeling open. Stepping aside barely long enough to allow two orderlies to wheel out an empty bed, you hopped in, punching urgently at the button for the third floor.

"Can you hold the door!"

Cursing under your breath you stuck out your hand to stop the door, pinning on a polite expression, Celia's arm tight through yours as a man wheeled an old woman in a wheelchair through the doors.

"Which floor?" asked Celia.

"Two, please."

It took everything in you not to scream as she calmly reached across and pressed the button.

"You should've let me take the stairs," you mumbled and she nudged you in the ribs as the old woman shot you a disapproving look. With effort, you smiled back apologetically.

The lift ascended slowly, mercifully not stopping at the first floor and in no time at all your fellow riders disembarked. Finally chiming it's arrival at the third floor, you practically squeezed through the doors before they could fully open, frantically scanning the signage for directions, your brain whirring too quickly to take in any useful information, looking without really seeing.

"This way!" called Celia, grabbing your hand and pulling you along behind her.

"How do you know?"

"I spend half my fucking life here, don't I," she said, confidently turning left and leading you down another corridor until it spilled out into a larger waiting area with a ragged handful of people sitting around, talking in hushed tones. Without pausing, Celia marched you both up to what looked like a nurses' station, where an exhausted looking man in scrubs was scribbling on a chart.

He didn't look up at your arrival.

"Excuse me," you said quietly and he was busy blinking in surprise at your interruption when you heard your name behind you.

"Gran??" you mumbled as you turned, seeing her climbing to her feet in the corner of the waiting area, her winter coat bundled on over what looked like her nightdress tucked into a pair of soft trousers. With a jolt, you saw her for what she was - a little old lady, lost and confused in this place in the middle of the night. She burst into tears at the sight of you and you hurried over to wrap her in a tight hug leaving Celia to charm information from the man in the scrubs.

"Oh Birdie," she wailed into you, arms locked around your waist and you couldn't stop yourself from crying too.

"It's ok, he'll be ok," you mumbled damply, squeezing her.

Taking a deep breath, Nellie let go of you but stopped on her way to sit down to reach and cup your face, a deep frown between her brows.

"Goodness, Birdie…you look terrible, love."

A laugh bubbled out of you, and you gently moved from her hold to sit down. "Thanks, glad to hear it."

"What's happened? What's the matter?" she asked as she sat down next to you.

"Can we talk about Ash please? Have you seen him? Do you know what happened?"

Her bottom lip disappeared as she fought to control her emotions.

"Only for a minute before they took him in. I'm not sure he even knew I was there."

"I'm sure he did," you whispered, taking hold of her hand, but she shook her head, staring off into the middle-distance.

"He's in a very bad way, love."

"What happened??"

"I don't know. He went off out around half nine and you know what he's like, out to all hours. I went to bed and then next thing the phone's ringing and they're telling me he's here. Been in a fight they said but from the look of him, it wasn't a fight." She pursed her lips, shaking her head. "It was a beating."

Cold, solid guilt settled in your stomach.

"Mickey…"

"Now sure why would Mickey be bothered with kicking seven shades of shite out of our Ashley?"

You shook your head, bile rising in your throat. This was all your fault.

"He's in surgery," said Celia softly, taking the seat on the other side of you, the three of you huddled in the corner. "He said they think his spleen had ruptured - which is bad but very fixable - and he'll probably be there for a while. He was stable when he went in." You nodded and she squeezed your knee. "Hi Nellie, I'm so sorry. Can I get you both anything? Tea?"

"Yes please," you said and your Gran nodded too.

The two mugs sitting on the side in the Stanton kitchen flashed into your head; teabags already in them waiting for water that wouldn't come.

Oh don't be so melodramatic, you scolded yourself. No doubt Steve and Owen had them the moment you left.

"She's a good girl, that one," smiled Nellie as Celia disappeared down the hall.

"She is. She came to get me from work." Running a hand over your hair you cleared your throat. "Have you told Bonnie yet?"

She shook her head. "I left in such a rush I didn't bring my book and I don't have the number for her new place."

"Her new place?"

Your Gran squinted at you. "She's moved in with the new boyfriend - didn't you know?"

"No I— I mean, I knew she was there a lot, I just didn't realise she'd moved in properly. I have Sean's number though, I'll go and find a phone."

She caught you gently by the arm before you could get up.

"It's after midnight, Bird. Let her sleep. There's nothing she can do from London anyway, she might as well get the rest and come down in the morning."

"She'll be furious we didn't tell her."

"When is she not furious, hey?" Nellie laughed, patting your arm. "Now then, sit down and tell me: what did you mean before about Mickey?"

Shaking your head you pulled away from her, arms wrapping around your middle, doubling over in your seat.

"It's my fault," you mumbled hoarsely.

"Oh Birdie, will you stop that. Not everything in this life that happens to Ashley and Cassandra is your fault."

"No, but this really is my fault," you replied, tucking your head down into your hands. "I should have got him out of here on Monday. Sunday night even. I shouldn't have let him just go back to yours. Something like this was bound to happen."

"Birdie, love, I can't hear you properly, what did you say? Why would he need to go somewhere?"

Uncurling slightly, you stole a glance at her, the worry in her eyes stabbing you in the guts.

"I… at the weekend—" Blowing out a long breath you sat up, rubbing your hands over your damp cheeks and cleared your throat. "I was in trouble at the weekend and I asked Ash for help but it all went wrong and he…"

You clammed up, rocking slightly in your seat.

"And he what? What kind of trouble? Mickey trouble??"

You nodded.

"But why would you be having anything to do with Mickey? You don't…" Her eyes widened and she mumbled your real name in a low voice, the full Sunday version with bells on.

"No, no, not for me, I promise you, Gran. I'd never."

"You were buying drugs for someone else then?" Her eyes flashed. "For your mother, was it? I knew it was too much to hope that she'd stay clean this time."

"No, not mum," you said quickly, resting a hand on her arm. "I— god, Gran, I've got myself in such a fucking mess…" you sighed, fresh tears leaking silently down your cheeks.

Leaning awkwardly to wrap an arm around your shoulders, she pulled you down into her, face in her chest like when you were a little girl.

"Hey now," she murmured, "I'm sure whatever it is, we'll work it out. And whatever's happened tonight isn't your fault, love."

Sucking a shaky breath you shook your head, pushing gently out of her hold to cradle your head in your hands.

"It is."

"Who were they for?"

Glancing up at her, your stomach turned over. "A guy I was seeing."

Nellie's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "What guy?? Why did you never say anything?" Her stare narrowed slightly. "Was it because of the drugs?"

You shook your head, swallowing. "No. No, I—he—"

"Ok then," announced Celia coming back, awkwardly carrying three steaming cups. "French, grab that one will you before I burn myself."

Clearing your throat you relieved her of the third, the liquid hot through the thin plastic, and she passed the other to your Gran before dropping back down into the seat next to you.

"Sorry it looks like shit, but it's the best I could find." She blushed slightly. "Sorry, Nellie."

"What for?" your Gran asked, eyes still fixed on you.

"Swearing…"

Blinking away from you, she looked at Celia with amusement. "Celia, love, you'll have to try harder than that to shock an old cunt like me."

"Gran!" you exclaimed as Cee cackled, Nellie grinning wickedly.

"I've seen you knock Ash's head off for that!"

"Yes well, it's different when one of you does it. I've earned it." You opened your mouth object but she shook her head and turned to Celia. "I don't mean to be rude, love, but could you give me and Birdie a minute please?"

"Of course."

"There's no need," you sighed, grimacing as you sipped at the wishy-washy liquid that was purporting to be tea. "She already knows everything."

"It's ok," Celia said gently, gathering her coat and bag, and squeezing your shoulder. "I should go and call Mark and let him know what's going on. Do you want me to ring anyone else for you? I could call Cass?"

"No, it's ok, we'll ring her when we know more and she should hear it from one of us." You turned to your Gran abruptly, embarrassment flaming through you at the fact you hadn't thought of it sooner. "Does mum know?"

"I've no idea."

"I should call her…" you mumbled.

"What's the point, do you think anything here would be improved by your mother - or worse, Frank - making an appearance?"

"They're his parents…"

"Not that you'd know," your Gran snorted with an air that invited no further discussion on the subject, turning pointedly to Celia. "We'll see you in a minute, Cee."

"I'll just be downstairs when you need me," she smiled, squeezing you one last time before she disappeared down the corridor again.

"Birdie…"

Nodding, you automatically took another fortifying sip and immediately wished you hadn't. Setting the cup on the floor, you twisted your fingers together.

"I've been sleeping with my boss," you whispered, unable to look her in the face. The sudden intake of breath beside you was enough.

"Did he…" She paused, her hands knitting together in her lap all you could see. "Did he… make you?"

"What?? No!" you exclaimed, sitting up and meeting her eye. "No. It's nothing like that… he's nice, Gran. You'd like him."

"Would I now?" she replied coolly and you shifted under her stare. "And he's single, is he, this boss of yours?"

Your eyes dropped back to floor and she hissed your real name again.

"I raised you to be better than that."

"I know."

"I'd expect this sort of behaviour from your sister, not from you."

"Don't say that," you said quietly. "She tries."

Nellie sipped her tea in silent judgement for a long moment.

"So what has sleeping with your married boss got to do with Ashley and drugs and Mickey Tomlinson?"

"He was in a car accident a few years ago - he's in pain all the time. He's always taken pills at school to manage it. But we went away for the weekend—" You felt rather than saw her eyebrows arch at this. "—and he'd not brought enough medication… I didn't know…" you finished in a whisper, burying your free hand in your hair, staring at your shoes.

"Didn't know what?"

"He's an addict."

A volley of curses hissed out of your Gran like blue air escaping from an inflatable.

"I didn't know… he always seemed so, I don't know… normal? Nothing like mum and dad, nothing like Bon…"

"So you asked Ash for help?"

"I'd tried everything else I could think of. All I needed was just to get something to tide him over - he was in agony and crashing and it was awful. I didn't know what else to do." Chewing your lip, you looked up to find her staring sadly at you. "But it all went wrong when we met up with Ash. Mickey was there and he was saying all this stuff about Cass and me and…"

You trailed off, Mickey's stale breath still warm against your bare skin.

"And what..?"

"Ash thought I was in trouble. I don't know, maybe I was, but he pulled a gun on Mickey."

"He fucking WHAT!?"

Another family huddled together, their quiet and anxious murmuring inaudible from where you sat, looked over in alarm. You lifted a hand in apology as your Gran carried on.

"Where the fuck did he get a GUN!?"

"Gran, please," you mumbled, glancing around nervously, "keep your voice down."

"I can't believe it…"

"Neither could I and I don't know where he got it, he just had it out of nowhere. But it worked, 'cause Mickey backed off and left, but of course he wasn't just going to let something like that go…"

Groaning guiltily, clutching your head, you sank lower into yourself.

"So it's all my fault he's here. If I hadn't asked him, he wouldn't have been there and it wouldn't have happened and—"

"Birdie, stop," Nellie said more gently, reaching to ease your hand from tugging at your hair, taking it between her soft, wrinkled pair. "You didn't do this to him."

"But I should have known something like this would happen. I should have got him out of Bristol. I've been so wrapped up in my own mess since Sunday night, I didn't think about him."

"The mess with this man..?"

"Steve…his name's Steve," you mumbled. "Not that it matters really because we broke up."

"Can you really break up with someone who's married to someone else," Nellie mused into the middle distance, blinking back towards you when you sat up to look at her.

"He was going to leave his wife."

She sighed, patting your hand gently. "No he wasn't, love. They never do."

You tugged your hand away from her sharply. "Yes, he was. We'd made a plan. He's not happy with her."

"Doesn't sound like he's happy either way if he's got a mistress and a drug problem."

Frowning, you tucked your arms around your middle and stared at the floor.

"Don't huff with me, Birdie, you're too old for that."

"You don't know anything about him."

"I know that you broke up with him because you know you deserve better than that."

You turned slowly. "How did you know..?"

"Because you're many things, my girl, but you've never been stupid. You know as well as I do what it's like to love someone with addiction. How hard it is."

"He won't even admit he has a problem," you whispered and Nellie smiled sadly. "I couldn't do it again."

"I imagine that means work is tricky now?"

Chewing at the side of your thumb, yours eyes dropped back to the floor and you heard her sigh.

"Tell me."

"I've had to resign," you whispered, eyes closed, hot shame and mortification crawling over your skin like ants.

"Oh Birdie…"

"I didn't want to. But I can't… I can't work there, not after this. If I stay I'll get trapped into helping him, into trying to fix him, to save him, because I won't be able to stop myself. I can't sit there and watch him suffer and do nothing. I—" You swallowed a choking sob, scrubbing angrily at the damp on your cheeks— "I love him. And I wish I didn't."

Slipping her arm around your hunched shoulders again, Nellie coaxed you back into a hug, stroking your hair as you lost yet another battle with your emotions, sobbing quietly into her chest.

"It's alright, love," she mumbled soothingly, cradling you against her like when you were small, hushing your cries until at last you were able to sit up, hiccuping as you patted your pockets and sleeves for a tissue. She produced one before you could find one of your own and you took it gratefully, dabbling at your eyes and blowing your nose with a noisy snort.

"I don't know what I'm gonna do, Gran," you mumbled once you'd regained control of yourself, worrying the soggy tissue between your fingers. "I've said I'll work until they've found someone but I don't have anything else lined up and it's the wrong time of year to get another teaching job that'll start before September."

"Don't worry about that now, hey? That's not a worry for tonight. Once we get Ash home, we can figure it all out together, alright?"

Nodding slowly you wiped your face again, your skin hot to the touch. "Will you be alright for a minute if I go and find Celia and get some fresh air?"

"I'll be fine. Just don't be too long in case they have any news."

***

Celia was already outside on a bench when you went back downstairs, menthol cigarette dangling elegantly between her long fingers. She looked up as you approached, smiling softly, offering the packet before you could ask, shifting up so you could perch beside her.

"What are you doing out here in the cold? Isn't there a smoking room?"

She shrugged, both of you squinting as the flash of flame dazzled your eyes in the dark. "Your smoking ban in the house has conditioned me. Besides, there was a weird bloke in the smoking room."

You chuckled softly, drawing in a long, steadying lungful, your head swimming slightly with the rush of nicotine.

"How much did you tell her?" she asked.

"Everything. More or less."

"What's the less so I don't put my foot in it?"

You sent another breath of artificially minty smoke high above your head. "She knows Steve's married but I didn't mention that he has kids and she didn't ask. I told her about Ash and the gun but not what Mickey said or what he did to provoke Ash. I didn't tell her everyone at work now knows I've been fucking the boss."

"You don't know that."

You snorted a dry laugh, taking a brief puff. "If they didn't, they do now. I made such a fool of myself earlier with him in front of Owen."

"You were upset - you are upset," she countered softly, leaning her shoulder against yours. "And I didn't say it earlier, but I'm sorry for making it worse. I'm just so cross with him for he did to you."

"He didn't do anything to me," you sighed.

"He's been lying to you for months!"

"He's been lying to everyone, not just me. Himself most of all."

Celia shook her head at you, toeing out the end of her smoke on the ground.

"See, this is why I'm so angry. Because you're not nearly angry enough. I'm doing it for both of us."

You let your head drop against her shoulder and she shifted to wrap her arm around you.

"I almost let him kiss me yesterday."

"Dickhead."

"Who? Me or him?"

"Him, obviously! I assume he made a pass at you?? Wanker."

You smoked in silence, trying to blow the smoke away from her while not moving from where you rested comfortably against her.

"I think part of me wanted him to. But I told him no." Swiveling slightly, you cracked a smile. "Are you proud of me?"

She laughed, pushing a light kiss into your hair. "For not kissing your pill-head, married boss? So proud."

With a chuckle that was more of a groan, you pushed yourself back up straight, taking one last drag before dropping it to the ground, stamping it out as you exhaled up into the night.

"I'd better get back to Gran. You don't have to stay here, you know? It's late and you'll have work tomorrow."

"I'm not going anywhere," she said firmly, copying you when you stood. "Work can live without us both tomorrow."

Tears sprang to your eyes but you blinked them away, so sick of weeping constantly.

"Thanks, Cee, I love you."

"Love you too, you noodle. Come on, it's fucking freezing."

***

"You're smoking again??" Nellie frowned disapprovingly the moment you sat down, but you met it without flinching.

"Don't. It's been a long week."

"It's only Wednesday."

"Exactly."

Nellie turned to Celia, "Did you meet this Steve fella?"

"Gran!" you spluttered as Celia flashed you a grin.

"Might have."

"What's he like?"

"It doesn't matter what he's like because it's over," you interjected.

"Old," Celia said at the same time and you shook your head, Nellie's eyebrows raising.

"He's not that old."

"He is… well, older anyway."

"How old is he??"

"Forty-eight," you mumbled.

"Ah, he's only young," said Nellie, waving it away and you shot Celia a look of triumph. "Well, compared to me at least. Bit old for you though, isn't he, love?"

"No," you muttered through gritted teeth. "Anyway, it doesn't matter because it's over. Has there been any news on Ash?"

"Nothing yet."

Reaching across to take her hand, you squeezed it gently. "He'll be ok."

"Yes," Nellie whispered, squeezing your fingers back.

"You should get some sleep," you said. "There's bound to be a day room or something around here with comfier chairs."

"I'm fine where I am."

"Gran, it's late, you should—"

"Don't argue with me, Birdie."

The hours ticked by at a glacial pace and your conversation dried up, the three of you just sitting close together in anxious silence. Somewhere around two thirty, Celia went in search of better hot drinks and somehow managed to charm her way into three proper mugs of tea from an orderly somewhere. Wrapping your hands around the mug, you let the warmth and the soft, milky tannins suffuse into your exhausted body.

Finally, a little after three, a tall man in green scrubs appeared, making his way over to where you sat.

"You're Ashley Peters's family?"

"Yes," you said quickly, gently nudging your Gran, who had finally succumbed and nodded off. She mumbled something incoherent, blinking foggily at the doctor.

"What's happening?" she said hoarsely, coughing into her sleeve.

"The doctor's here, Gran. Is he ok?" you asked, turning to the man.

He took a seat by Celia, elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped loosely together as he leaned forward to speak. Nellie grabbed your hand and squeezed it almost painfully hard.

"He's going to be fine," he began and all three of you let out a collective breath you hadn't realised you were holding. "But he's going to need a lot of care and bed-rest for at least the next month. His spleen had ruptured and we were able to repair it, but he lost a lot of blood and he's got a number of broken bones as well. It's going to be a while before he's back on his feet."

"But he'll be ok? He'll make a full recovery?" you said.

"He should be just fine," he smiled.

"Can we see him?" asked Nellie, still crushing your fingers in hers.

"He's being moved to recovery at the moment. Someone will come and get you when he's ready," he replied, slapping his knees lightly before he stood.

"Thank you," you whispered, giving him a watery smile. He shrugged with an awkward half-smile and mumbled his departure.

"Oh thank God," sighed Nellie, pulling you into a sideways hug.

"I should ring Cass," you said, pressing a kiss into her violet-tinted curls.

"It's three in the morning, French," said Celia.

"I've already left it too long, she'll want to be here when he wakes up."

"Let's see him first, hey?" said Nellie, hand on your arm to stop you getting up. "Give Sean a little more sleep before Bonnie demands he drives through the night for her."

"Ooh, do you think she'll bring him with her?" said Celia, eyes wide with glee.

"If only so he can help her dispose of my body when she finds out how long we've taken to call her," you mumbled darkly. "I'm calling her at five whether we've seen him or not."

***

It took almost an hour for anyone to come and fetch you, and when they did only two visitors were allowed at a time.

"You two go, I'll mind our stuff," said Celia, shooing you away and with a grateful nod you followed the nurse deeper into the wards.

"He's very woozy from the anesthetic and he can't talk much because they've had to wire his jaw because of a fracture," she warned kindly as she ushered you both towards the cubicle at the end, next to the window, pulling back the yellow curtain just enough for you to pass through.

"Oh my poor little lad," Nellie mumbled, moving ahead of you to the side of his bed, pulling up the plastic chair beside it and settling down to take his hand in hers.

But you couldn't move, a fist closing around your heart, your throat constricting in horror at the mess lying in front of you. He was almost unrecognisable, his face cut and swollen, one eye so puffy it was completely closed, stitches running along his jawline and above his eye. You couldn't see his legs, but his left arm was in a cast, and his chest and abdomen were wrapped in heavy white gauze, and what little you could see of his skin was covered in dark, livid bruising.

Slowly, his good eye flickered open, seeing your Gran first.

"Alright, sweetheart? Do you know where you are?"

He tried to speak and grimaced, eyes sliding to where you stood.

"Hey," you mumbled. "How're you feeling?"

He grunted, clearing his throat and you finally managed to creep closer, moving to the other side of the bed to take his other hand.

"Do you remember what happened?"

He nodded, eyes closing with the effort.

"Was it Mickey?"

"Birdie, not now," Nellie scolded softly, but Ash nodded again, eyes fixed on you.

"I'm so sorry," you whispered, a tear sliding down your cheek. His fingers squeezed around yours.

"M'ok," he mumbled, more of a grunt than a word.

"Does it hurt?" He rolled his eyes at you and you chuckled weakly. "Yeah ok, stupid question."

His eyes slid closed, the grip on your hand slackening.

"Get some rest, love," your Gran murmured, leaning to gently press a kiss to his forehead. "We'll be right here for as long as they'll let us stay."

***

You took it in turns to sit in the single chair by his bed so he wouldn't wake up alone, Nellie demanding to take the first shift and so you went back to Celia.

"How is he?"

"Awful," you sighed, flopping into the seat beside her, sliding into a sideways hug. "Looks like he's been run over."

"I'm so sorry, darling," she murmured, cheek resting on your head.

"I'm going to go and have a smoke and call Mum and Cassie."

"Are you sure? It's still the middle of the night."

"I can't wait any longer, it's not fair. I'd be furious at the them if they kept something like this from me."

You felt her nod and drop a kiss into your hair. "Good luck. Do you want me to come?"

"No it's ok," you yawned, hauling yourself back into a sitting position and scrubbing your hands down your face. "Do you mind waiting just in case something happens? I don't want Gran being on her own and not knowing where we are."

"Course not."

"Thanks, what would I do without you?" you smiled, dragging yourself vertical and heading for the lift with your coat and cigarettes.

***

Leaning against the wall, the heavy black receiver of the payphone cradled against your ear, you punched in Cassie's - well, Sean's - number. To your surprise, you'd scarcely had time to draw breath before it was answered.

"What??" said a terse male voice, thick with sleep.

"Hi, Sean, it's Birdie," you said, hearing your sister mumbling in the background. "I'm so sorry to ring in the middle of the night but—"

"Birdie??" Cassie's panicked, sleep-laced voice filled your ear. "What's happened? Is it Gran?"

"No, she's fine—" Emotion squeezed in your throat again, tears pricking in the corners of your eyes, and you sucked in a breath, trying and failing not to let your voice wobble. "It's Ash, he was attacked, he's in hospital."

"Ash?? Attacked by who?! Is he ok??"

"He's just got out of surgery but he's alright, he's going to be fine."

You could hear her moving around, Sean's voice in the background as she relayed the message in snippets.

"Just out of surgery?? For what?? Wait…how long have you known?!"

"He had a ruptured spleen but they've fixed it. He's a bit of a mess but say he'll be fine. We wanted wait until we'd seen him before we called. Gran said—"

"I'm on my way," she snapped. "Which I should have been hours ago. Which hospital?"

"The Royal," you mumbled. "I'm sorry Bon, I wanted to call earlier."

"You should have."

"I'm sorry—"

"I have to go, Bird. We'll be there in a few hours. I— what?"

You heard Sean say something in the background and suddenly he was speaking to you.

"Hi Birdie, I'm really sorry about your brother. I've got a car phone so if you need to speak to us, if anything changes with him or if you need us to pick up anything, just ring us ok? Have you got a pen and I'll give you the number?"

"Hold on," you replied, patting at your coat pockets, huffing with frustration when you found nothing. "Can you give me one minute, I'll get one from the desk, I'll ring you back in a sec."

Sean's number finally inked onto the back of your hand, you said goodbye for a second time and rested your forehead against the cool wall, checking your watch.

Four thirty-five.

If you called your mum now would she even be sober enough to be conscious?

The idea of having to try and deal with her at all right now made you want to lie down on the floor and never get up again. And really, what good would it do anyone for her and Frank to turn up half-cut and aggressive. It certainly wouldn't do Ash any good.

Plucking another cigarette from the box in your pocket, you abandoned the rank of payphones and went back outside.

***

Six o'clock came and went and from the window at your post by Ash's bedside you could see the faint streaks of morning building into another cold, grey day. He stirred a couple of times and you leaned forward, squeezing his hand and he settled again.

“French?”

You turned at Celia’s soft murmur, seeing her hovering at the gap in the curtain, caught between avoiding looking at Ash and not being able to stop herself from looking.

“Everything ok?”

“Can I borrow you?

Standing, stiff after hours on a variety of unforgiving plastic chairs, you leaned over Ash and kissed his forehead, his eyelids fluttering at the touch.

“Sorry, go back to sleep, I’ll be back in a minute. I just need to talk to Cee.

With a mumble, his head slumped to the side and you followed Celia out into the corridor.

“Is everything ok? Is Cass here already??”

“No, no, everything’s fine. I’m just going to take Nellie home. She’s done in.”

“She’s letting you?”

“She knows he’s not on his own.” She chewed at the inside of her lip. “Why don’t you come too though? He’ll he fine for a couple of hours. You could have a shower, get changed? Maybe have a nap?”

“No,” you said firmly, glancing over your shoulder towards the ward. “I’ll stay. I've got my overnight stuff from work." You tried and failed to stifle a yawn. "We’ll need some of his things."

Running your hands tiredly over your face, up into your hair, she gently rubbed your arms.

“We can get him some stuff later. But you’re shattered, you need to rest too.”

“I’ll stay until Cass gets here.”

She compressed her lips but didn’t argue with you.

“Thank you,” you murmured, tugging her into a hug. “I’m sorry I ruined your night."

“I can pack up some of my stuff,” she said, squeezing you before she pulled back. “So Sean and Cass can use my room at the house."

“You don’t have to do that, it’s your room. I’m sure we can find them somewhere."

“It’s fine, I need to start moving my stuff over to Mark’s house anyway.”

“I think you’re going to have to start calling ‘your house’ soon,” you chuckled softly and she smiled. “But seriously, don’t. Cassie’s so cross with me I’m not sure she’ll want to stay anyway.”

“She’ll come round, she’s your twin.”

But you weren’t so sure. It had been over three years since you’d seen her in person - the longest since she'd run away eight years earlier - all contact conducted sporadically over the phone and almost always on her terms. The only time she’d been back to Bristol at all since she’d left Mickey was after your Grandad died. There was no saying what being back would evoke in her… but is was probably nothing good.

***

You heard your mother before you saw her, arguing with one of the nurses in the corridor outside Ash's ward. He'd fallen back to sleep about half an hour earlier and to try and spare him a rude awakening, you quietly slipped out of his cubicle, heading towards the noise.

"Mrs Peters, as I've explained he—"

"Don't take that fucking tone with us," snarled Frank, toying with an unlit cigarette.

"Mum," you said gently, a look of gratitude painting the young woman's face when all three of them turned to look at you.

"What the fuck are you doing here??"

"They called me, he gave them my number before he lost consciousness," you lied, hoping you'd get the chance to tell Ash so you could get your stories straight.

"And you don't ring me?? I'm his fucking mother!"

"It was very late… we didn't want to worry you until we knew he was ok. I was going to ring you soon."

"We?? Who's we?!"

Cursing inside your head you tried to decide how much of a lie you should tell. But the truth would probably come out anyway so you opted for honesty.

"Me and Gran."

"Oh right, of course my fucking mother would be here with my son instead of me. Her idea not to ring us was it? I should've known you wouldn't've had the backbone for that sort of thing on your own."

"I'm going to have to ask your to keep your voices down, there's very sick people here," an older nurse said tartly; clearly the one who had experienced the joy of dealing with your mother and step-father had called in reinforcements. "There's a visitor's room at the end of the hall.

"I want to see my son," snapped your mother.

"Me too," added Frank, glaring belligerently at her.

"I can show them," you said with a small smile of apology, once again tasked with mollifying others thanks to your family.

"I can't have all three of you in there - you can show them in but it's a maximum of two visitors at a time. And if there's anymore of that racket, I'll have to ask you to leave."

"You can't stop us seeing our boy," snapped Frank, and seeing him attempting to use his lumbering frame as a threat, you slipped in between him and the nurse.

"Come on, I'll show you." Leading them away from the nurses' station you glanced behind. "How did you know he was here if Gran didn't call you?"

They exchanged a glance and you stopped at the door, not letting them pass.

"We were down the pub last night and heard there was some commotion with one of Mickey's lads," said your Mum tentatively, glancing at Frank the whole time she was speaking. "But we didn't know it was him. Had an answering machine message this morning from Big Phil saying it was our Ashley. We didn't hear the phone."

Didn't hear the phone. You knew well enough what that was code for. They stank so much of last night's booze it was a wonder they were even awake this early.

"Needed to pop out for fags," said Frank, as though reading your mind and when you peered closer you realised they were both still drunk. "Now get the fuck out of the way, Bird, and let us see him."

But you blocked the doorway instead.

"He was asleep when I left and he'd in a bad way. He's had major surgery in the night and he's in a lot of pain. Don't upset him."

"Don't upset him," Frank mimicked rudely. "Listen to this one, Cath."

"Fuck off, Birdie," hissed your mother, shouldering her way past you. "You're not his mother, I am. And I'll speak to him - to all you ungrateful little shits - however I damn well please."

They stomped past you and you had no choice but to chase after, cringing as they flung open curtains looking for Ash.

"Excuse me! No one is allowed in here at the moment!" shouted another nurse, in the middle of changing bandages on another patient.

"He's in the corner, on the left by the window," you said, murmuring apologies and straightening curtains as you passed.

"Ash!" Cathy bellowed, at the sight of her youngest child, startling him from sleep.

"Mum?" he mumbled. Or at least you assumed that's what he meant but it came out more as a mhmm through his wired jaw.

"Why can't he speak properly?!" she said accusingly, whirling to face you.

"His jaw was broken, they've had to wire it to help it heal. They said he should be able to talk better in a few days when the swelling starts to go down."

The nurse from the bay nearer the door appeared beside you.

"I'm going to have to ask you to lower your voice please, madam. There are very sick people here trying to rest."

"Oh fuck off you officious little prick," said Frank, sending her eyebrows to her hairline.

"I'm sorry, we'll be more quiet," you said hurriedly before she could chuck them out. With a face like thunder she nodded.

"Don't make me ask you again."

The curtains twitched closed and you were left alone with your family once more.

"Please," you urged quietly. "If you don't want them to throw you out, can we just take it down a bit. Mum, come here and have a seat."

Chuntering obscenities about you only barely under her breath, Cathy sat down in the chair by the bed, reaching for Ash's hand.

"Right…I'll leave you to it," you murmured, catching your brother's pleading eyes before you pulled the curtain to leave. With both their backs to you, no longer of use or interest, you mouthed 'sorry' at him and retreated back to the waiting area.

You hadn't been on your own for more than five minutes before a burly man whose shirt loudly proclaimed him as SECURITY hurried past you. Sighing, you closed your book and waited.

Three…

Two…

One…

"This is fucking ridiculous!" Frank's voice echoed towards you, apparently not one for believing in going quietly.

They hoved into view being roughly escorted by the security man.

"Birdie, tell them we should be here!" shouted your mother, spotting you in the waiting area. "He's my son, I have every right—"

"They with you?" he said to you, ignoring her.

For a brief moment you considered denying all knowledge of them.

"Yes."

The pitying look he gave you spoke volumes.

"Get your fucking hands off me," spat Frank, wrestling himself out of the man's hold and he let go of Cathy too.

"Any more outbursts like that and I'll have to see you off the premises, do you understand?"

"We weren't doing nothing," Cathy complained sullenly.

"Anything," you mumbled reflexively and she shot you a venomous look. "Sorry," you said, but not to her, nodding apologetically at the security man.

With a curt nod, he disappeared back down the hall.

"Why don't you two go and get a cuppa and some breakfast," you said, rooting in your bag for your purse, pulling out a crumpled tenner. "Bring me back a coffee?"

You mum plucked the note from your fingers without looking at you and stormed off toward the lifts but Frank stayed still, glaring at you.

"Why do you always have to be such a smug little bitch?" he snarled softly, teeth bared, beer and vodka on his breath. "You and that fucked up cunt of a sister - you ain't better than us."

"Yeah? Well only one of us is sober and hasn't been thrown out of a hospital ward for causing a disturbance this morning, so I'd beg to differ."

Not waiting for a reply, you shouldered your bag and left him standing, fists clenched at his sides, as you headed down to the ward and back to Ash's bedside. He was awake when you got there, slumping back against the pillow with relief when he saw it was you and not his adoring parents slipping through the curtain.

"Wy'd'yu ring 'em f'r," he mumbled, face sallow with exhaustion.

"I didn't. Big Phil down the pub told them, apparently."

He rolled his eyes - well, his one good eye. "I don' wan' see 'em."

"I'll try and keep them to a minimum. And let's be honest, if they're true to form they'll have forgotten all about it by tomorrow and we won't see them again." You slipped your hand into his and squeezed his fingers gently. "Get some rest. Bon'll be here soon and we'll both need our strength for that."

A half smile cracked awkwardly across his face and he squeezed your hand before his eyes slid shut and his grip slackened, sleep claiming him once more.

***

You gasped in shock at the hand shaking your shoulder, body tensed, heart trying to leap from your chest.

"Sorry," smiled the young nurse your mum and Frank had been giving a hard time earlier. "There's some more of your family here, I thought you might want to speak to them first. They're in the family room. On your right at the end of the hall."

"Thanks," you mumbled, coughing slightly, the syllables thick on your tongue. Shaking the cobwebs from your head, you blinked hard, eyes dry and gummy. You hadn't meant to fall asleep and your neck was going to make be making its displeasure known for some time to come you felt.

She smiled again and disappeared and you rubbed at your face, trying to sharpen up. As you climbed wearily to your feet, Ash stirred, his one-eyed blink groggy from the pain medication.

"Brace yourself, I think Cass is here," you smiled and amusement flickered uncomfortably across his ruined features.

Trudging towards the family room, you caught sight of yourself reflected in the windowed door of one of the staff areas. Smoothing your hands over your hair, you straightened your top; three years of not seeing your sister and this was the state you had to be in when you did.

Hand on the door handle, you took a deep breath, puffing out your cheeks and letting it go before you let yourself in.

Two faces turned in unison as you entered, an expensively handsome man perched on the wooden arm of a faded blue armchair, his hands on the hips of your mirror image, who was jigging slightly on the spot, chewing the side of her thumb. She looked somehow exactly the same and completely different at the same time. And like she'd got dressed in the dark. Which, in fairness, she probably had. Either way, it made you feel better about how much of a state you looked.

"Birdie," she mumbled in a rush of breath, launching herself at you.

She still smelled like Bonnie and you wrapped your arms around her, the warm, familiar weight of her body against yours, bound together since you came into being, immediately soothing.

And you promptly burst into tears.

Cassie pulled back in alarm, hands on your shoulders, running over your hair.

"What's the matter?? Is he ok??"

Overcome, you waved away her worry with a shake of your hands and head but she still clutched you, eyes wide with concern. Sucking in a breath you fought to regain control.

"Sorry," you spluttered, fishing a half-used tissue out of your pocket. "I'm ok, he's ok - well he's not but he will be. It's just been a really long night." Dabbing your eyes, you turned, embarrassment licking up the back of your neck. "You must be Sean." Tucking the tissue away you went to stick out your hand, realising too late it was probably a bit grotty.

"It's really good to meet you," he smiled, catching you off guard when he leaned in to give you a brief hug instead. "I'm sorry it's not under better circumstances."

"Oh yeah, Birdie, Sean. Sean, Birdie," Cassie said hurriedly, wafting her hand between you vaguely. "If we're done with the pleasantries can you hurry up and tell me what happened? I want to see him."

Dropping into the nearest chair with an exhausted sigh, you relayed the little you knew about what happened the night before.

"But why would Mickey do that?? It doesn't make any sense. Was it 'cause Ash is trying to quit??"

Swallowing thickly, you shook your head and told her a shortened version of the same story you'd imparted to your Gran earlier. As you stumbled to a stop, Cassie was clutching Sean's hand like she was in the throes of labour.

"What did he do to you?" she whispered. "Ash doesn't just pull a gun on someone like Mickey without cause."

"Nothing— I mean, it doesn't matter. It's not important."

"Our baby brother is lying in a hospital bed because of it so I think it probably is fucking important," Cassie snapped, and Sean ran a soothing hand down her back.

"Can we not do this right now, Bon?" you replied tiredly. "Don't you want to see him before you interrogate me?"

She flashed you a vicious glare but Sean cut in before she could reply. "I think that sounds like a good idea." Climbing back to his feet, he held out a hand to your sister. "Come on, you'll feel better once you've seen him."

Giving them brief directions on where to find him, you were left alone in the small room. And with nothing else to do - fuck knows where your mum and Frank had disappeared off to but you hadn't seen any sign of a cup of coffee - you curled up in the least uncomfortable looking armchair and fell into a dreamless sleep.

***

Steve swallowed, the cold of the night air still chilly in the hall after the door had slammed shut. The look on Owen's face after Celia's vicious parting retort would have been hilarious had it not been for the fact that it was now entirely obvious that there was more going on between you and he than met the eye.

"Sooo…" Owen said, dark eyes alive with curiosity.

"Go and check on the boys, will you? I thought I heard Bella say Shy's name."

Nodding reluctantly, he lumbered off towards the stairs and Steve slumped into the office, dropping into his chair with his head in his hands, which is where Owen found him a few minutes later on his return.

"They're all accounted for. Do you want a tea? Bella was just making one when the hospital rang."

Sitting and having a friendly chat over a brew was the last thing Steve wanted.

"I think we should probably turn in, it's late."

"Right you are, boss" Owen smiled knowingly.

And now it was barely ten in the morning and he had no doubt it would be round everyone from Andy to the cleaners by now. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he fought the urge to take another pill.

"Have you heard from Bella?" asked Amanda, coming into the office, pouring coffee into her mug.

"No," he mumbled.

"She's not called in?"

"She'll be at the hospital, or have been there half the night. I wasn't expecting her in."

"Still… I'll give her a ring," she mused.

"No, it's ok. I'll do it."

Amanda frowned at him but let it pass, drifting back out into the corridor, the noise from the boys' common room suggesting that either everyone was having a great time, or killing each other; it wasn't always easy to tell. And, realistically, it could be both.

Why didn't he just let her contact you? It would be much easier, and would you even want to speak to him anyway?

But the way you'd clung to him the night before, rushing into his arms like something out of a cheesy romance novel, kept a small flicker of hope alive in his chest. Though there was an uneasiness slithering in his guts too; the more people who knew about you two, the greater the chance there was of Helen finding out and he hadn't fully decided what he was going to do about that yet.

With a deep sigh, he fished the packet of pills from his pocket, quickly sinking two before Amanda could come back.

***

The hand that shook you awake was much less gentle than the nurse had been. Blinking groggily, your mouth dryer than the desert, you tried to sit up, your mother's furious face looming over you.

"Why didn't you tell me your fucking sister was coming?" she hissed.

You wondered how long you'd been asleep for, the little, windowless room a strange liminal space that offered nothing to illuminate you. There was a clock on the wall but unless you'd been asleep for a very long time it was unlikely it was actually six forty-three.

"I wasn't sure you'd still be here when she got here," you mumbled, hauling yourself vertical so she had no choice but to step back away from you. "I wasn't even sure you were still here."

Cathy opened her mouth, no doubt to to rebuke you, but the door crashed back on its hinges before she had the chance.

"You're fucking unbelievable!" Cassie shouted at your mother, spinning toward you, eyes drawn into furious slits. "Why the fuck didn't you say they were here?!"

Swiping your hands down your face you closed your eyes, hoping that perhaps when you opened them again, you'd wake up in the staff bed in Stanton and this whole night would have been just a terrible dream.

Sadly this did not happen.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realise I was responsible for relaying everyone's whereabouts," you sighed, though your stomach twisted guiltily at the look on your sister's face; you really could have given her a heads up. "Bon, Mum and Frank are here. Mum, Bonnie's here. With her new boyfriend— actually, where is Sean?"

"Getting coffee," Cassie snapped.

"Running for the hills probably," snarked Frank, sidling in behind her, lighting a cigarette that you were fairly certain wasn't allowed. "If he's got any sense."

Cassie swivelled towards him, hands balling into fists, and bared her teeth.

"Like she should have done the minute you came sniffing around, you useless fucking waste of oxygen."

"Cassandra!" exclaimed your mother.

"Bon…" you murmured, reaching for her hand to tug her away from where they were beginning to square up. "Don't. Not here. He's not worth it."

"What did you just say!?" shouted your mother, advancing half a step before Frank elbowed her aside, face slowly turning puce.

"You watch your fucking mouth, you stuck up little bitch, or I'll—"

"Or you'll what, Frank? What're you gonna do?" taunted Cassie, using your hand in hers to slightly move you behind her. "Gonna hit her? Hit me? Get one in for old time's sake? It's been a while after all."

"You saying you don't deserve it? My boy's lying in a fucking hospital bed because of you!"

"I know," you mumbled but nobody seemed to hear you over Cassie's shout of disbelief.

"MY fault?! How'd you figure that exactly when I've been living fucking hundreds of miles from this shithole."

"You're the one who brought scum like Mickey Tomlinson into this family."

Your sister's expression tightened at his name. "No. You're not going to blame me for this. I'm not the reason Ash started working for him. You don't want your son dealing drugs for the likes of Mickey then maybe you should take a closer look at yourself. You're not exactly winning any Father of the Year awards for parenting or, I dunno, even giving a single fucking shit about your kid, are you, Frank?!"

Face like thunder, he stepped closer, pointing the glowing end of his cigarette right in her face and for a heart-stopping second you thought he was going to press it into her skin or eye. And maybe he would have had it not been for the fact that the door opened again and Sean appeared, holding a cardboard tray of three coffee cups. He glanced around the unfolding melodrama in the little room with an impressively unperturbed expression.

"Fuck off, this is family only," snapped Frank, flicking Sean the barest glance, his cigarette still hovering near Cassie's cheek.

"He is family," Cassie snapped, not backing down. By the door, you saw Sean gently set down the cups on a low table. "My family."

Frank laughed roughly, the sound changing mid-flow to a yowl of pain as Sean stepped forward and in a movement so fluid it seemed almost like sleight of hand, he'd plucked the smouldering cigarette from Frank's fingers and twisted his arm up behind his back. The butt landed in a half-empty mug of tea left by some unknown previous occupant, hissing to a quiet end.

Unlike Frank, who was yelling. "Oi! Ow! Get the fuck off me, you cunt!"

You saw Sean's eyes flick to your sister, a ghost of a smile on his lips.

"You threaten her again and you're going to have bigger problems than a twisted wrist, do you understand me?"

The part of you brain that wasn't rooted to the spot at how quickly things had escalated, amused itself by imagining what Steve might have done in a similar situation. Probably treated Frank like Jamie or Riley when they were spoiling for a fight.

Let's all just take it down a level, ok?

"I said, do you understand me? Or do you need me to break it?" Sean repeated, accent smooth with evidence of an expensive upbringing, as conversational as though he was discussing the weather. "At least we're already in the hospital so they can fix you up, good as new."

"Fucking yes! Let me the fuck go!" shouted Frank, hissing and cradling his arm when Sean immediately let it drop.

There was no denying that Sean's approach was more effective than Steve's usually was, but such methods were usually frowned upon in an educational setting.

"Mum, why don't you go and say bye to Ash?" you said quietly and she cut both you and Cassie a murderous stare.

"I see your taste in men hasn't changed, Cassandra," she spat, ignoring you. "Looks rich this one but no different to the rest. What's he doing with a little tart like you though, eh?"

"I love her," Sean said simply, eyes fixed on Cassie.

You mother barked a cough of dry laughter. "Give it time. No one can love that one for long."

"Mum," you said sharply, seeing Cassie's eyes fill with tears. Pushing past everyone, you yanked the door open. "Come on: out. Now. We're not doing any more of this here. It's a fucking hospital and Ash is hurt and he doesn't need his family making a fucking scene in the middle of it."

Cathy practically shoulder-barged you on the way past.

"Frank, go with her. Say goodbye and leave."

"You don't tell me—" He stopped at the look Sean gave him and you were glad it was him here and not Steve.

"Yeah, you'd better go," called Cassie, recovering herself as he left, "you'd hate to be late for pub opening!"

"Bon…" you mumbled but she just shrugged, looping her arms around Sean's neck and stretching up for kiss.

"My hero," she giggled, pecking his lips once more.

"Sorry," he smiled, somewhat sheepishly you thought, at you.

"Nothing for you to be sorry for," you replied. "It's us who should be sorry about our awful family."

"Trust me, he gets it," Cassie said darkly. "It's not the same but if you think our mum is bad, you should meet his."

"Cassandra, behave," he murmured but the admonishment was undercut by the look of loving amusement in his eyes and your sister simply beamed in response, kissing him again.

"Is one of those coffees for me by any chance?" you asked, hoping to head off what looked like might become a scene unsuitable for younger viewers.

"Hope you still just have it black, one sugar?" said Cassie as Sean untangled from her to extract cups, easing the plastic lids off carefully to check their contents, passing you a still steaming cup of dark liquid.

"Thanks. I need about twenty-six more of these," you sighed, crumpling back into the armchair you'd been napping in. Though that was probably the last thing you needed; you were almost dizzy with exhaustion, both shattered and wired in that strange way of being up all night that you used to get at uni when you'd left finishing an essay to the last minute.

"Could just sort you out with a line instead," chuckled Cassie, coming to rest on Sean's lap on the chair beside yours. "Perk you right up."

You flashed her a withering look which bounced right off her.

"Can you hang around here and make sure Mum and Frank don't burn the place down while I go and have a smoke?"

"I could murder one too," said Cassie, smoothing a hand over Sean's hair. "Can you watch out for fireworks?"

He nodded, patting her bum as she got up to follow you to the door.

"But don't kill Frank without me though, yeah? I want to be here to see that."

***

You perched with Cassie on the same bench you'd shared in the dark with Celia, what felt like several millennia earlier.

"Sean seems nice," you ventured; she hadn't spoken since you'd left the room, accepting your lighter in silence.

She blew smoke above her head.

"Why did Ash pull a gun on Mickey, Bird?"

Delaying the inevitable, you took a deep draw on your cigarette, eyes on your scuffed trainers. She waited expectantly beside you.

"He - Mickey - pretended he thought I was a grass. Said he thought I was wearing a wire for the cops so he made me take my top off. I made Ash leave the room."

Without looking, you felt Cassie turn to look at you.

"He kept making all these comments about you, about us, about how we're so alike…"

"Did he hurt you?" she whispered and you shook your head sharply.

"That was when Ash came back."

"Yeah, alright, I think I forgive him."

"It's my fault," you mumbled, hunching down in on yourself. "I shouldn't have involved him."

"Sounds to me like it's actually Steve's fault," she muttered.

"Ash being here is my fault, not Steve's. It was my idea to go to him for help."

Cassie turned sharply, grabbing you by the shoulders to make you look at her. "Yes. But only because your married boyfriend - who is probably only using you for sex because he's bored of his wife - has a drug problem. And he's such a shit addict that he couldn't even go away for one fucking weekend without making a mess of it and making it your problem. This is his fault, not yours."

"He wasn't just using me for sex," you mumbled, shaking yourself free of her grasp, pulling harshly on the final drag of your cigarette.

"No more than you were using him."

You blinked at her. "At first maybe…"

"Come on, Birdie… did you really even want him to leave his wife??"

You pushed yourself to your feet, throwing your cigarette butt to the ground, stamping it out.

"You're being spiteful Bonnie."

"And you're being a naive little martyr. Which was already irritating enough when we were kids but I thought you'd have grown out of it by now. This is his fault - not yours. Why do you always have to assume the guilt of everyone you meet."

"Wow… well fuck, I'm really pleased you decided to come back and grace us all with your presence. Anything else I should know about myself before you disappear and I don't see you for another three years?"

"You've always known where I am, it's not my fault you never visit."

"Come off it, Bonnie," you scoffed. "You don't want me in your life! You couldn't have made that any clearer."

"No!" she shouted, on her feet, shoulders squared. "You don't want me in your life, Birdie. You're ashamed of all of us - ever since you went away to uni it was like we were beneath you. I'm sorry that me and Ash are such embarrassments to you!"

"What are you even talking about!? I'm the one who's still fucking HERE. Dealing with them and their mess and this whole fucking shitshow, while you pissed off to London and never looked back, with your new family."

"And here we go again, Saint Birdie, everyone's fucking lord and saviour."

"You can't have it both ways, Cassie!" you shouted. "Either I'm always pissing you off trying to help everyone I love or I'm ashamed of everyone but it can't be fucking both!"

"Can't it?!"

Staring at each other, mirror images, hands balled at your sides, a quiet cough drifted towards you.

"Sorry to interrupt…" mumbled Sean, glancing nervously between you as your heads whipped toward him in uncanny unison. "Birdie, the doctor wanted to have a word with you."

"Why her and not me?" snapped Cassie.

He shrugged apologetically. "I dunno, probably because she's been here all night."

"Which I wasn't given the chance to be!"

"We'll both go," you mumbled, a wave of exhaustion rolling over you so heavily you thought you might collapse. "They probably just want to talk to family and didn't spot that they had two of us."

This managed to raise a suggestion of a smile from your sister. "As if I'd be caught wearing whatever the fuck that's supposed to be," she said, waving a hand vaguely at your clothes.

Rolling your eyes, you let her lead the way back inside, Sean's arm slung casually around her shoulders.

***

By noon, Sean insisted that you went home and you had no energy left to argue with him. Leaving Cassie with Ash, he followed your directions, driving you back to your little house.

"She's not really angry with you," he said quietly as you waited at the lights by the park.

"She's pretty angry with me," you muttered, still smarting from her accusations.

"She's scared. Being back here, I mean. And the fact that it involves Mickey."

You looked across at him in surprise. "You know about that?

He shrugged slightly, engine gunning as he pulled across a gap in the traffic to turn right. "We don't have secrets."

Well, well, well, may wonders never cease: Cassandra was actually in a proper grown up relationship.

"What is it that you do, Sean?"

"Construction, housing development, that sort of thing. We're doing a lot of work down around Canary Wharf, the docklands, you know?"

You nodded. "I hope you don't mind me saying this, but for someone who works in housing development and sounds the way you do, you seemed pretty comfortable with Frank earlier. I've heard about strong-arming clients before, but that seemed a bit literal."

Amusement flickered across his handsome face and you could see why she liked him.

"We might have a few other business interests. Wallace Organisation has quite a… shall we say, diverse portfolio."

"Meaning, guns and drugs?" you said as the traffic slowed again and laughed but without any shred of embarrassment at your accusation.

"You don't beat about the bush, do you?"

"My sister's in love with you. I want to to know who you are."

He turned his head to look at you properly. "I'd never let anything happen to her. I promise. I'm not Mickey Tomlinson."

"I'd kill you myself if you did, do you hear me?"

A wide smile split his face, which wasn't quite the reaction you'd been aiming for.

"Fucking hell, you two really are alike, aren't you," he laughed.

Feeling heat climbing your cheeks, you cleared your throat. "It's the next left, number forty-two."

***

When you woke up you could hear voices downstairs, the unmistakable sound of your sister laughing. Groping blindly at your bedside table you downed the glass of water you'd left there before you'd collapsed, fully clothed, onto your bed, goodness knows how many hours earlier. Rubbing sleep from your eyes you squinted at your alarm clock, it's red display proudly proclaiming it to be 16:57.

A quick shower and a brush of your teeth and you almost felt like a person again. Or at least, a slightly less disgusting version of what you'd been before. Traipsing downstairs you found Cassie, Sean and Celia all in the living room, an open bottle of wine on the coffee table, though only the girls had glasses.

"Hiya lovely," smiled Celia, getting up to give you a hug. "Do you want a drink?"

"It's barely five o'clock," you mumbled. "Don't we have to go back to see Ash?"

"Yeah but we've been up since the middle of the night so who the fuck knows what time it is. And Sean's driving," said your sister, draining the end of her glass, holding it out for more.

"Have you heard from Gran or the hospital?"

Cassie rolled her eyes at your disapproval.

"She's back there now. They were moving him to a ward when I left and they've got stricter visiting hours apparently. We can go and see him but they'll be kicking us out again by eight."

"How was he when you left?" you asked, perching on the edge of the armchair, accepting a glass of red from Celia.

"Much the same. Maybe a little more alert. They've got him on the good shit so he's not in too much pain. You know, the stuff your druggie grandad of a boyfriend is into."

You set the glass down so hard on the coffee table, the slender stem almost broke.

"Don't. Just fucking… don't."

"Christ, Bird, it was only a joke," she muttered.

"Yeah?? Well I'm glad me having my heart broken by a man I trusted is so fucking entertaining to you! I'm fine by the way, not that you ever fucking asked!"

Flouncing out of the room, swiping Celia's cigarettes from the counter near the back door, you stomped outside, flashing one to life before the door had even swung closed behind you.

You were two-thirds down your second one when it creaked open.

"Bird..?"

"Fuck off, will you please just fuck off, Cassandra? I can't go another twelve rounds with you tonight, I'm too fucking tired. I know you're angry with me, but can we please, please just save it for another time."

She sat down on chair beside you, tugging it closer to yours as she snagged a smoke from the packet.

"Urgh," she grumbled as she took her first inhale. "I hate fucking menthols. If you're gonna smoke, do it properly."

"They're Cee's."

"Of course they are," she replied dryly and you bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from smiling.

"I'm sorry," she said, reaching across to link her fingers with yours. "I shouldn't have said that in there. I didn't realise you were that serious about him."

"What? The whole 'we're in love and he's leaving his wife' thing didn't give you a clue?" you snapped, not ready to be placated.

"Honestly? I didn't really think you'd ever actually go through with that," she said, leaning back, disappearing for a second behind a cloud of smoke. "Every time we talked about it you sounded so… I dunno, like you were trying so hard to convince me because you weren't really convinced yourself. Like were talking yourself into it, Bird, rather than because it was something you actually wanted."

Releasing a long breath of smoke over your head you stared up into the sky - twilight was coming but it was finally light past six in the evening, the early promise of long summer evenings to come - and wanted to refute what she'd said. But unfortunately you were cursed to know each other better than anyone else alive. Sometimes better than you knew yourselves.

"I thought I did want it," you said quietly, stubbing your cigarette out on the saucer in front of you, immediately lighting another.

You smoked in silence for a few minutes before you cleared your throat.

"I'm sorry too," you mumbled. "You were right, what you said earlier."

"No, I shouldn't've… I was upset—"

"I am ashamed of where I'm from… of who that makes me. When I got out to go to uni, I never wanted to come back here. I wanted to run and run and run and never look back." You turned to her, squeezing her hand earnestly. "But it was never you or Ash I was ashamed of. It was her, and Frank. And dad too, what happened to him. That whole place and what it made us do, what it took from us. But never you. Never Ash. I'm sorry if I ever made you feel like that…" Leaning forward, you tapped ash into the dish. "Especially because the truth is that I've always been jealous of you both."

Cassie's eyebrows shot up, lips pursed around her cigarette, the tip glowing in the dwindling light.

"Jealous?? Why the fuck would you be jealous of us?"

"You've always done exactly whatever you wanted and you never cared what anyone thought about it, and neither does he. You were always the one to stand up to her and I just…" You spread your hands, groping for the right words. "I let her walk all over me."

"Yeah, which is why she hates you less."

"No, she hates me just the same. I just turn up every few weeks with stuff for their freezer so she tolerates me more."

Cassie pulled a face. "What do you do that for??"

Sucking in a drag of smoke, you shrugged. "It was for Ash at first, and then I suppose I just got in the habit of it."

"You're such a soft sod. You should let them fucking starve - let them see how that feels," she added in a vicious whisper, eyes glittering as she stared into the distance, and you knew she wasn't seeing the wall at the end of your garden.

"I was jealous that you got away," you said quietly and she blinked back into the present. "Not because of why you had to go, but you got to go."

"You didn't have to stay, nobody was making you stay," she said, the defensiveness of the morning slipping back between her teeth.

"No, don't," you said quickly, reaching for her hand and squeezing. "I don't mean it like that. Of course I could have left, I could have gone back up north and no one would have stopped me. I even applied for some jobs back at schools I'd done subbing at. But I couldn't bring myself to leave Ash, not again."

"He'd have been ok, he had Gran and Grandad."

You shook your head. "You don't know what it was like Bon. It wasn't like when we were kids and we could run away to Gran's. Frank wouldn't let him go. I couldn't just leave him there on his own like that. And I'd left before and look what happened to you. I was so scared if I left again, something awful would happen to him." A dry laugh slipped out with a plume of smoke. "And then it did anyway."

"He's not a kid anymore, Bird. He should have known better than to pull a fucking gun on Mickey whether he was worried about you or not. Doing something that stupid was always going to end like this. He was lucky you were here when I wasn't."

A half-hearted smile crooked your mouth. "The shame for him is that he got stuck with me when he always liked you better."

"Oh come off it, you can't seriously think that's true. It's not me who read him bedtime stories and tried to get him to do his maths homework."

"Yeah, exactly."

She laughed throatily and, against your will, so did you.

"I mean it though, Bon," you continued. "I feel like all I've ever managed to do is piss you both off trying to help. I ever wanted was for us all to be ok, to fix things, but I always just seem to get it wrong or annoy you."

"That's your problem though, Bird: you can't fix everything. Me and Ash, we're not things to be fixed by you," she said, her words resonating uncomfortably close to what your Gran had said to you weeks earlier. "We're always gonna be messy and a bit fucked up, just like you."

You frowned. "I'm not—"

Cassie cackled into the evening air, tapping ash from the end of her cigarette. "Yes you fucking are. Jesus christ, Birdie, look at you! You haven't had a single healthy relationship in your life. You think normal, well-adjusted people are out there fucking their boss and uncovering his addiction issues? You chase highs just as much as me and Ash but instead of sticking it up your nose, yours come from finding the next broken bird - pun intended - to try and fix."

"Since when did you get so insightful," you mumbled, sitting back in your chair, turning it over in your head, an uncomfortable sense of the truth in her words already churning in your guts.

"Mum and dad - and Frank - did a number on all of us," she said bitterly. "You should get out of here, Bird. It's not good for any of us being in this place."

"We can't leave Gran…"

"Nellie Jennings is tough as old boots," she said sternly. "She doesn't need you minding her and I'm sure she'd be the first to tell you so."

Grinding out the end of your smoke on the saucer, you chewed the inside of your cheek.

"When he's well enough, can you take Ash back to London with you?"

"Of course, if he'll let me. You should come too. Cee said you've quit your job?"

"I don't know when I'm finishing yet and I'd have to give the landlord notice here and—"

The back door squeaked open and Celia's head appeared around the doorjamb.

"Sorry, French…" she began, flicking an uncertain glance at Cassie, "but Steve's here."

"What??" you said, chair legs scraping loudly against the flagstones in your hurry to get to your feet. "Steve??"

"This I have to see…" mumbled Cassie, following you into the house.

He was hovering in the hallway, hands shoved deep in his pockets, studying the ancient blue and cream swirling carpet. A relic of before the house was tenanted and not something you'd have chosen yourself.

"Steve?"

His head snapped up, winding you with those stupidly pretty blue eyes of his.

"Hi," he mumbled. "Sorry to…" He stopped, glancing over your shoulder, lines appearing between his brows.

"That's my sister, Cassie," you supplied, turning to catch your twin scowling at him.

"Right…" he nodded, slowly dragging his focus back to you.

"Bon, can you give us a minute?" you mumbled but she pretended not to hear you, eyes trained on Steve.

"What are you doing here?"

"I…umm…" He couldn't seem to stop looking between you and your sister.

"Yes, we are identical, please move past it," you snapped and Cassie giggled when he flushed and cleared his throat.

"We hadn't heard from you, and I knew you'd be busy with the hospital but I just wanted to… make sure you were ok," he said, trailing off weakly.

"Sorry, I should have rung this morning. I was up all night, I don't know which way's up."

"It's fine, we were all just worried about you. How's your brother?"

"He's not great, but he'll be ok—"

"Were you really going to leave your wife?" Cassie interrupted, coming to lean against the banister beside you, arm looped lazily around the newel post, watching the colour drain from Steve's face. "Or were you just having her on?"

He swallowed, wetting his lips carefully, eyes darting between you. "It was real."

"Bonnie, please," you mumbled.

"But thank god you hadn't before she found out about your little pill popping problem though, right? Because now you can avoid all that mess and stay in your nice cushy life with your wife and kids, and pretend none of it never happened at all. Never mind that Birdie has to leave the job she loves just so she can get away from you."

"Cassandra," you hissed.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't've come," Steve murmured, face tight with mortification. "Take all the time you need, Bella. We'll see you when you're back."

He shuffled back towards the door and was on the far side of it so quickly it was almost as though he'd walked through it like a ghost.

"Why did you have to do that??" you sighed, leaning against the wall.

"Because I'm the one who stands up for us, aren't I?" she smirked and you rolled your eyes. "Besides, he deserves it, the dickhead." Pausing, she frowned. "And who the fuck is Bella??"

Ok, ok I know that was a lot of just Bella and her fucked up family but it’s important to her character and where she goes from here so thank you for sticking with me. We’ll be having more Steve in the next one, I promise. I hope 🙈

As ever, comments are love 🤍 xxx

Masterlists: CILLIAN | SERIES | MAIN

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