Yes here we have it... the beginning of the end... the first part of the last sequel to a seemingly unending fic...

Part One...

Craig Dean had been pacing the living room of the flat for two hours.

At first Adam had tried to be sympathetic and understanding, but after 120 minutes of Craig’s sighs and mutterings his patience was wearing rather thin.

Standing in front of his flatmate to halt his progress Adam took hold of Craig’s shoulders and looked intently into his worried brown eyes.

“For gods sake Craig just call the house.”

“But what if he thinks I’m overreacting? What if I AM overreacting?” Craig chewed worriedly on his bottom lip and then, side stepping Adam he continued to pace.

Adam sighed in frustration. “But you’re worried,” he reasoned, “So call… it’s not like he’s gonna mind.”

Craig turned to face his friend. Why was it when Adam made the suggestion it sounded reasonable but inside his own mind it sounded like a stupid thing to do?

“But what if…” he began again.

“Look,” Adam said firmly taking a hold of Craig’s shoulders again, “How long is it since you’ve heard from him?”

“Three days,” Craig replied sadly.

“And how often do you usually hear from him?”

“Every day.” Adam raised an eyebrow, “OK,” Craig admitted, “A couple of times a day… maybe three…”

“So I think you have reason to be concerned… now call his house and find out what the problem is…”

“You really think I should?” Craig’s eyes pleaded with Adam’s, desperate for reassurance.

“It’s probably something really simple,” Adam said comfortingly, “Maybe he’s just lost his phone and hasn’t got a note of your number… he could be sat at home wonder what’s taking you so long to call.”

Craig face broke into a grin. “It could be that couldn’t it?”

His smile faded as an alternative reason for John Paul’s lack of contact returned to the front of his mind and he collapsed onto the sofa with a sigh.

“What now?” Adam asked in frustration.

“What if he’s met someone else,” Craig asked quietly, “What if he’s trying to work out how to tell me there’s someone else and that’s why he hasn’t called?”

Adam laughed. He didn’t mean to but Craig’s supposition seemed so unlikely that he couldn’t believe THAT was what had been worrying his friend for the last two hours… for the last three days in fact.

“Oh Craig,” Adam said kindly as he crouched before the man and stroked his face, “Whatever it is that’s keeping John Paul from calling you it isn’t THAT… there is no way on this earth he’s met anyone else… you mean the world to him – you know that.”

“But what if…”

“It ISN’T THAT!”

Adam took a seat in the chair opposite Craig. “Just call… for both our sanity.”

Craig looked at the mobile phone in his hand as if it were an alien artefact and turned his eyes again to Adam.

“Call,” Adam repeated firmly.

Craig scrolled through the names in his phonebook until he landed on the one he was looking for. “McQueens”. With a deep breath he pressed call and listened as the line connected and a telephone miles away in a Chester house began to ring.

so good

cant believe this fic is going to end please make everything be ok, that chapter has got me worried

Well you've got to have a bit of angst... just to keep you all on your toes..!!

totally, as long as there is a happy end

when will there be more??

Part Two

The phone seemed to ring for hours and Craig’s hand began to shake he was holding his handset so tightly. Just as he was about to hang up the call was answered.

The voice on the other end of the line was breathless as if the owner had raced to answer the phone’s ringing and Craig’s heart sank. It wasn’t the voice he had hoped to hear.

“Hello?” Myra McQueen panted into the phone.

“Oh err hi Mrs McQueen… it’s Craig… is… err… is John Paul in?” Craig licked his lips nervously as he waited for her reply. He wasn’t sure if it was just his imagination but the pause between his question and her reply seemed longer than was really necessary.

“Craig love… I’m sorry I should have called you. I’m sure he must have asked me to… but things have been so mad around here I totally forgot…”

“Is everything OK?” There was a tone in Myra’s voice that caused Craig’s earlier concern to increase, “Is John Paul OK?”

“He’s… he’s gonna be fine… I don’t want you to worry about that,” Myra’s words seemed to trip over each other as she spoke.

“Going to be?”

“He’s in hospital love,” Myra answered in a hushed tone.

Craig felt the colour drain from his face at her words and, if he hadn’t already been seated, his legs would have given way beneath him.

“What happened?” Craig whispered, almost afraid to know the answer.

“He was… attacked… beaten up… a few days ago… but like I say he’s gonna be fine… in fact I’m only here now coz I’m getting him some clean clothes… I’m picking him up in a couple of hours…”

At first Craig felt numb and then the sickness and panic began to well inside of him. “I’m coming home,” he said.

“There’s no need for that love,” Myra insisted, “I’m sure John Paul wouldn’t want you coming all this way…”

“But…”

“Look, like I say, he’s gonna be home in a couple of hours… why don’t I get him to call you then and you can discuss it with him… I’m sorry Craig but I really have to go.”

The line went dead and Craig sat motionless with the silent phone still pressed to his ear.

Adam had understood little of the conversation from Craig’s few words but he understood the look on his friends face clearly enough to know that Craig’s earlier worries had paled into insignificance.

“What is it?” Adam asked moving to sit beside the shaking man and taking the phone from his hand.

As Craig turned to him Adam saw the tears beginning to fall down his cheeks.

“He’s been hurt,” Craig told him, “Attacked… he’s in hospital.”

“But he’s gonna be OK yeah? I heard you say that.”

“His mum said so… I should be there…”

“So you’re going back home?” Adam asked.

“I should… but Myra didn’t think it was a good idea… she said I should wait till he calls me… why would she not want me there? He needs me… I should be there… why am I never there when he needs me?”

Craig’s tears were falling heavily now and his shoulders shook with silent sobs.

“If I’d been there…”

“You can’t think like that,” Adam said trying to wipe the flow of tears from Craig’s cheeks.

“But I’m never there… I’m always letting him down…”

“None of this is your fault … you can’t help what happened to him.”

“Why am I never there for him? I love him so much,” Craig eyes were heavy with tears and pain as he spoke, “What if… I could have lost him and he would never have known.”

“He knows,” Adam insisted as he took the weeping man into his arms, “He knows and he’s fine and when you speak to him you’ll feel better.”

Craig’s whole body shook as Adam continued to hold him. He had never felt quite so helpless in his life and he prayed with every fibre of his being that he was right and John Paul would be fine. Anything else would be unthinkable.


The two men sat in silence as the time ticked by. Craig had cried in Adam’s arms until his tears had left him exhausted. Adam had held his friend as long as he was needed and wished every second that there had been something more he could have done, something more he could have said to take at least some of Craig’s pain away, but there wasn’t and he couldn’t.

Craig’s hand rested on the arm of the sofa just inches from his mobile phone. Every few minutes he would pick it up to check that it was working, that he had reception, that he hadn’t turned it to silent by accident or done anything else that would prevent John Paul’s call from reaching him.

And they waited. The silence in the room was heavy and both men felt weighed down beneath it.

The time seemed stationary and each second lasted an hour, each hour a lifetime, until Craig could hardly stand the waiting any longer.

The sudden shrillness of the phones ring made both men jump with fright causing Craig to knock his mobile to the floor. He scrambled for it with urgency seeing the word illuminated on the screen that he had been waiting for… “McQueens.”

“Hello?” Craig voice trembled as he spoke.

“Hi Craig,” John Paul’s voice sounded weak and weary but it was John Paul and Craig almost cried again with relief.

“God John Paul I’ve been so worried, are you OK?”

“I’m fine really… I’m sorry my mum didn’t let you know what happened… she must have forgotten,” John Paul bit his lips as the simple lie slipped between them. It was better that Craig believed it was an error that had kept Myra from calling him rather that John Paul’s specific instructions.

“That doesn’t matter now… as long as you’re OK… you ARE OK aren’t you?”

“A bit sore… but yeah, I’ll be fine… really.”

“I’m coming home… I can’t…”

“No Craig,” John Paul interrupted, “There’s no need.”

“But I want to see you… to look after you.”

“There’s no need, I’m fine,” John Paul insisted. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. It was so hard to refuse Craig when all he wanted was the man by his side to hold him and kiss him and let him know that everything would be alright. But not now, not yet, there were more important things than how he felt and John Paul knew that he had to make the sacrifice. “We’ve come too close Craig,” John Paul continued, “Finals are only a few weeks away… you need to stay in Ireland and study… I don’t want you to throw it all away… not now… we’ve given up too much to let it go.”

“But John Paul…” Craig’s voice pleaded from the end of the phone and John Paul felt his resistance begin to crumble. He could picture those deep brown eyes looking at him, desperate and filled with love.

Taking a deep breath John Paul felt the pain in his chest from his cracked ribs and he remembered there was another reason he had to keep Craig away.

“If you turn up,” John Paul said slowly, “I’ll refuse to see you… I mean it Craig… after finals… that’s when I’ll see you and not before.”

Craig slumped against the back of the sofa. He knew that tone of John Paul’s, it was one he had inherited from Myra and Craig knew there was no point trying to argue with it.

“OK,” Craig conceded, “I’ll stay here… as long as you REALLY ARE OK.”

“I really am,” John Paul said as relief washed over him, he really wasn’t feeling strong enough to argue with Craig for long.

“So what happened?” Craig asked the question that John Paul had been both expecting and dreading. He couldn’t tell Craig the truth, at least not the whole truth. Not if he wanted the man to stay in Dublin, not if he didn’t want Craig coming back looking for revenge.

“I’m not sure,” John Paul lied, “I was leaving the club I’ve been DJ-ing at and I… it was muggers I guess… jumped me from behind… didn’t see it coming.”

John Paul closed his eyes again as the images of the night played back through his mind. What he told Craig was partly true; he just chose to leave out a few salient facts.


John Paul had been working the new club in the town centre for a few months. He hadn’t even been aware it was a gay club when he first went to enquire after work. When he had realised John Paul almost changed his mind, the image of his first visit to such an establishment had left him feeling more than a little uncomfortable. But this place had seemed different and John Paul felt confident that he would fit in, even if Mercedes had jokingly asked if he’d packed his Village People records when he was due to work there on his first night. At least John Paul assumed it was a joke, he hoped it was. Either way his response had been to throw a cushion at her head and leave without comment.

That night had been much like any other. He’d worked hard, laughed with his colleagues, drank a few beers, been paid, said goodbye to the bar staff and manager and left the club with a spring in his step.

Only a few yards down the road John Paul had heard a voice behind him.

“Oy.”

John Paul sighed as he turned. It wasn’t the first confrontation he’d had like this and he expected it wouldn’t be the last. But rather than the usual round of verbal abuse he had received before, this time as he turned to face the person behind him, a fist had crashed into his mouth sending him staggering backwards.

Before he was able to regain his senses the fist had struck again, knocking him to the floor. Then there had been the feet. Kicking at him over and over again as he curled into the foetal position to try and protect himself. He had no idea how many feet there had been, how many people. It could have been one, it could have been ten but, as he lay on the ground hoping and praying for them to stop, it had felt like hundreds.

The blackness had finally given him peace. The next few hours had come to him in flashes, like someone flicking through the channels on the TV, never pausing long enough for one moment to linger or be understood. There were voices asking if he was OK. Hands touching him, helping him? An ambulance. The clean white of the hospital ceiling. The tear stained face of his mother. And the pain, dulled by painkillers but still there.

His first thought had been of Craig. His first conscious word had been Craig’s name. His first concern had been that Craig shouldn’t know. He didn’t want Craig to worry. He didn’t want Craig to jeopardise his studies to be with John Paul. And he didn’t want Craig to feel compelled to seek out his attackers, or anyone else who would fit that bill, to extract some kind of justice.

John Paul had made his mother promise not to contact Craig. Not yet, not until they knew John Paul was going to be fine. Not until John Paul was strong enough to lie to the man he loved.

“I’m so sorry John Paul,” Craig voice broke into John Paul’s memories, “I should have been there to protect you.”

“And soon you will be,” John Paul replied a little wearily, “Soon it will be us always… but you just make sure you get that degree and make me proud.”

“I promise,” Craig said gently. He could hear the exhaustion in John Paul’s voice but he was loath to end the conversation. He didn’t want to let John Paul go.

“John Paul, it’s time for your tablets love,” John Paul turned to smile at his mother’s voice.

“I’ve gotta go Craig… talk to you soon.”

“OK… love you.”

“You too.”



Myra placed the painkillers in her son’s hand and passed him a glass of water.

“You look tired love, d’you want a lie down?”

John Paul nodded. Talking to Craig had exhausted him. He hated lying to anyone but especially to Craig. He had to keep telling himself it was for the best. Keeping Craig safe and in Dublin was what mattered for now.

Myra helped her son up the stairs to his room. She tried the best to keep the pain from showing on her face and to keep the tears from her eyes but each time she looked at her child’s cuts and bruises she felt sick.

Shouldn’t the world have moved on by now?

How was it that a man could still be attacked in the street simply because of who he loved?

And why did it have to be her son?

brilliant as usual Dawn! please let John Paul be okay.

Thanks...

and I'm sure he will be - in time!

brilliant poor craig, poor jp, it never really seems to work out 4 them

Yeah those two beautiful boys DO suffer for their love !

poor JP all that because He's gay

love this idea - jp trying to keep craig safe and not knowing....!!!

Part Three

Craig dropped his phone onto the sofa cushion with a sigh.

“So he’s OK then?” Adam asked.

Craig nodded. “I think so… he sounded tired, but he said he’s gonna be fine.”

“And you’re not going back to Chester..?” From the half of the conversation Adam had heard he assumed that John Paul had refused Craig’s offer to go home.

“He doesn’t want me to,” Craig said with a sad smile, “Doesn’t want me to risk messing up my finals… that’s typical John Paul… he gets hurt and he’s STILL worrying about me!”

Adam smiled and squeezed Craig’s shoulder affectionately. “Come on,” he said getting to his feet.

“Where to?”

“Pub… I think you need a drink!”

Craig raised an eyebrow. “But aren’t you supposed to be meeting Catelin tonight?”

Adam paused for a second as a smile played across his lips. It wasn’t that long ago that his heart and soul had been consumed with his desire for Craig. But somehow letting Craig know how he felt and getting a definite rejection from the man had freed him. He had finally felt able to move on and put his longing for Craig behind him. Not that he didn’t still sometimes catch a glimpse of the man and think “if only…” But those moments were becoming less and less and Adam could only put that down to Catelin.

She had been in his class from the start and he had always thought she was pretty, if a little too serious and studious. He didn’t know what possessed him to ask her out one day but he was surprised when she agreed, and even more surprised at how good that acceptance had felt.

Their first date had gone well and Adam had discovered that there was a lot more to the pretty dark haired girl than he had first thought. And if her deep dark brown eyes framed with thick lashes sometimes reminded him of someone else, well that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing was it?

“Catelin likes you,” Adam said confidently, “She won’t mind you being there…now come on – no more arguments!”

---

“You see the thing is,” Craig slurred as he tried to focus on the face of the pretty girl opposite him, “the thing is… what was I saying?”

Adam laughed as Craig tried, and failed, to rest his head on his hand and instead ended up almost falling from his seat. A few hours in the pub and Craig was becoming increasingly intoxicated and had reverted to his favourite topic of conversation.

“What’s so funny?” Craig asked indignantly.

“You are mate,” Adam told him, “You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?”

“Talking about John Paul’s eyes!” Adam turned to Catelin with an apologetic smile, “He does like to talk about John Paul’s eyes when he’s had a few,” he explained.

“There’s nothing wrong with that is there Craig,” Catelin said in her gentle Irish lilt, “Not when you’re in love.”

Craig beamed at her understanding and attempted to remove his wallet from his back pocket, causing him to lean precariously to one side.

“Let me show you a picture of him,” Craig enthused as he rocked on his chair.

“It’s OK,” Catelin replied placing her hand on his arm to stop him, “I’ve seen pictures.”

“Have you?”

“Back at your flat… there are plenty of them!”

Craig’s smile deepened. “And hasn’t he got gorgeous eyes?”

“He’s beautiful,” Catelin agreed as she squeezed Adam’s hand under the table.

“Beautiful,” Craig murmured to himself as he rested his face on the beer stained tabletop.

“Sorry about this,” Adam apologised, “But I think I need to get him home.”

“It’s alright, really,” Catelin replied, “He’s been through a hard day… I’ll help you get him back.”

Adam couldn’t keep the smile from his lips. Without even realising it his feelings for this gorgeous young woman had grown and everyday he seemed to discover something about her that made him… made him what? Love her? Maybe he did… maybe he actually did.


Getting Craig back to the flat had been hard work as the man hadn’t been keen on walking under his own steam and when he did move various unrelated items in shop windows that reminded him of John Paul were constantly distracting him.

Adam was relieved to finally deposit his friend on his bed and leave him there to sleep off the vast amount of alcohol he had consumed.

“Sorry about that,” Adam said as he returned to Catelin in the living room and handed her a mug of hot coffee.

“Stop apologising,” she told him as he sat beside her, “You’re looking after your friend… and that’s a good thing.” Catelin touched her lips lightly against Adam’s and he smiled at the sudden rush of adrenalin that coursed through his body.

Putting his coffee down on the small table before him Adam leaned in to return Catelin’s kiss but was interrupted by the sound of the door opening.

“And another thing…” A drunken Craig said as he swayed in the doorway. Adam did his best to hold back a laugh at the sight of his friend. Craig was wearing one shoe but had still somehow managed to remove his trousers and the length of John Paul’s green and yellow hooded top that he had dressed himself in as he left his bedroom only just covered his modesty.

“What is it Craig,” Adam asked with a smile.

“You are a great mate,” Craig explained, pointing his finger emphatically at his flatmate, “Really you are… I don’t know what I’d do without you… and let me tell you…. If it wasn’t for John Paul there is no way I would have ever turned you down!”

Craig nodded with satisfaction and staggered back towards his room.

Adam swallowed hard as he turned his attention back to Catelin. “There’s probably something I should tell you,” he said with a worried smile.

---

“John Paul… I’m off to the shops, d’you need anything?” Myra’s voice called up the stairs to her son.

“No I’m fine,” John Paul shouted back.

“OK well the house is empty so you should have some peace to get your studying done… but DO try to take a break and get outside… you’ve been cooped up inside too long.”

“Bye mum!”

John Paul sighed as he heard the front door closed, getting to his feet he walked slowly over and looked in his mirror.

It had been a few weeks and the cuts and bruises were fading now, soon all the external evidence of his attack would be gone. But it wasn’t just the pain in his ribs if he breathed in too deeply that still lingered with him. He hadn’t been back to HCC since getting home from hospital, thankfully several of his friends had been happy to call around with study notes and he was confident that he wasn’t missing too much.

He hadn’t been to the shops since getting home either. Or to the pub, the Loft, the Subar or any other location that took him outside his own front door.

“This is ridiculous,” John Paul told his reflection. Stuffing his mobile phone in his jeans pocket he pulled on a jacket and headed downstairs.

His heart was racing as he got closer to the front door. His palm was damp as he reached for the door handle and his brow was covered in a sheen of sweat. John Paul’s breaths were coming in short frantic gasps and he stood for several minutes with his hand on the door handle. He felt totally paralysed as the thought of stepping outside filled him with more fear than he had ever known.

Tears ran over John Paul’s cheeks as he let his hand fall to his side. It was such a simple thing to walk outside that door, he had done it a hundred, a million, times before and now that one act had become an insurmountable task.

Sinking to the floor John Paul wrapped his arms around his trembling knees and rested his back against the sold wood of the door, his tears flowed freely as he wept. He wasn’t this person; he wasn’t the kind of person who let others beat him down like this. He didn’t want to be this kind of person but he didn’t know how not to be.

Scrubbing the tears roughly from his face John Paul did the one thing that he knew was guaranteed to make him feel better. He pulled his phone from his pocket and dialled Craig’s number.

The phone only rang twice before it was answered.

“Hi gorgeous,” Craig’s voice said from the other end of the line. Two words but they made John Paul’s heart sing.

“Hi yourself,” John Paul said with a smile.

“What’s up?”

“Nothing… just wanted to hear your voice is all.”

“You missing me?”

“Always,” fresh tears spilled from John Paul’s eyes at the truth behind his reply but he tried to keep them from his voice, “What ya doing?”

“Down the pub with Adam and Catelin…”

“How’s it going with her? I couldn’t believe it when you told me he’d met someone.”

“God John Paul I nearly messed it up for him the other week…”

“What happened?”

“I only got drunk and made some comment about how he’d had feelings for me… I felt awful when he told me about it the next morning.”

“What did she say?”

“Actually she was really cool about it… maybe because nothing ever happened… plus it was a good opportunity for him to tell her he was bi.”

“So it all worked out OK in the end then?”

“You know it really has… I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so happy.”

“I’m pleased… he deserves it…” John Paul smiled with genuine happiness that Adam had been able to let go of his feelings for Craig and find someone who could return them, “I hope it lasts for him.”

“How you feeling?” Craig’s question reminded John Paul of his location on the floor leaning against an unopenable door and he felt his body begin to tremble again.

“I’m fine,” John Paul lied, “Studying hard… you know…”

“You sure?”

“Course… look you go and have a drink for me… I’ve gotta get back to the books.”

“John Paul there isn’t anything…”

“I just missed hearing your voice… and I wanted to tell you that I love you.”

“Love you too.” Craig was surprised to hear the line go dead before he had even said goodbye.


John Paul rested his head against the folded arms circling his knees and let his tears take over once more. His whole body shook with the force of his sobs as the pain, grief and anger at his situation took over him. He had never hung up on Craig so fast before but he knew if he’d stayed on the line any longer he would have said the things he promised himself that he wouldn’t. He would have told Craig how much he missed him, how much he wanted him back home and how much, more than anything, he needed Craig’s arms around him to let him know that everything would be alright again.



“That John Paul?” Adam asked as he placed a bottle of lager on the table before Craig.

“Yeah…”

“Is he OK?”

“I’m not sure…”

“What’s wrong?”

“He didn’t say but…” Craig paused as the thought back over his short conversation with the man he loved, “He didn’t sound right… I’m really worried Adam… I don’t know what to do.”

Craig took a long drink as he considered the problem. He had promised John Paul that he would stay in Dublin until finals were over. He had promised to study hard and not even consider returning to Chester until it was time for them to be together forever. But he had also promised John Paul that he would always be there for him.

What could you do when you made promises to someone that you loved and those promises contradicted each other? Which promise should he keep?

Before he got to the end of his drink Craig had made up his mind.

poor jp, i love craig in this fic, he is actually doing the right thing for once please write more soon, i'm hooked

Fear not - more writing is already being done !!

brilliant ! can't wait

Part Four



Myra McQueen was getting increasingly concerned about her son. Every day that passed he seemed to become more withdrawn and reclusive, some days hardly stepping a foot outside his bedroom from morning to night. Whenever she tried to talk to him about it he would simply laugh and blame it on his studies, insisting that he had to work hard to get a good result and how could she possibly argue with that logic?

When she tried to confront him about never leaving the house John Paul would insist that he had been outside earlier that very same day but she had been at work, or at the shops or at any one of hundred other locations while he had been getting a dose of much needed fresh air.

Myra always knew when her only son was lying. He wasn’t like her other children. For some reason her girls could lie as easily and convincingly as they breathed but John Paul always struggled with such things. He would never be able to look her directly in the eye as he described where he had been and who he had talked to, he would fidget uncomfortably and Myra would know without a doubt that her son was being dishonest, but she had no idea what to do about it or how to help him.

Since his attack he had become a changed man and the more she noticed the more she feared that she would never get her John Paul back. It made her feel physically sick to know that those thugs had not only hurt her beautiful boy but had also taken him away from her, had taken away the person he had been.

“John Paul,” Myra said tapping on his bedroom door before opening it, “Could you give me a hand with the shopping?”

John Paul looked up from his books with a smile for his mother. He was beginning to feel in need of a rest and putting away the shopping, whilst possibly not the most stimulating of pastimes, was a good a distraction as any.

“Yeah OK, how much did you buy this time?”

Myra pasted a forced smile on her face. “Well I haven’t bought it yet… I thought you could come to the shops and give me a hand with the bags.”

John Paul’s face visibly blanched at her suggestion and he quickly turned back to his books.

“I don’t really have the time mum,” He said trying to sound calm, “But give me a shout when you get back and I’ll help you put it away.”

“John Paul, don’t you think a break will do you good? You’ve been in your room for days…”

John Paul faked a laugh as he replied. “I’ve been out loads,” he lied, “and you DO want me to do well in my finals don’t you?”

There it was again, John Paul’s perfect excuse for staying inside, for staying in his room, and as usual Myra couldn’t think of any reason good enough to make him leave the house.

Myra sighed as she headed down the stairs. “Try to at least take a break,” she called back to her son, knowing that even if he did it wouldn’t involve a trip outside.

John Paul breathed a sigh of relief as he heard the front door close behind his mother. He hated lying to her but how could he explain that the thought of going out, of so much as placing one foot outside his own front door filled him with dread. How could he tell her that the attack hadn’t only beaten him physically? How could he tell his own mother that her son was a coward?

---


Myra was so busy struggling to concentrate on not dropping her shopping that she didn’t notice the figure huddled on her doorstep at first. She was almost on top of him when she first noticed his presence and when he looked up she couldn’t help but smile at the rich brown eyes that greeted her.

“Craig,” she said with affection, “What are you doing here?”

Craig shrugged. “Just wanted to see John Paul,” he explained.

“I thought you weren’t due home till after finals.”

“I know,” Craig got to his feet and took the bags from Myra, “I couldn’t keep away.”

Myra pushed her key into the lock. “So how come you’re sitting on the doorstep?”

“I knocked… but I guess no one is home… trust me to turn up when everyone’s gone out!”

Myra frowned, was it possible that she had misjudged her son, was he actually out of the house at that very moment, she certainly hoped so.

“Well come on in Craig, I’ll put the kettle on and you can tell me all about Dublin.”



John Paul heard the sound of the front door and stretched in his seat. The least he could do was to help his mother unpack the shopping and maybe make her a cup of tea.

Myra turned at the sound of his footsteps on the stairs.

“John Paul, I thought you were out… why didn’t you answer the door?”

“I didn’t hear it,” John Paul lied. He had heard the knocking at the door alright. He had heard it and it had sent a panic through him. He had heard it and he had covered his ears praying for whoever it was to go away and leave him alone. “Was it anything important?”

“You might think so,” Myra smiled as she stepped to one side revealing the figure of Craig standing behind her.

“Craig!” The name rushed from John Paul’s lips like a gasp. “What are you doing here?”

Craig walked to the stairs and took John Paul’s hand in his own, noticing how it trembled in his grasp.

“I needed to see you,” he explained, “I know I promised to stay in Dublin, but I had to come.”

John Paul couldn’t speak, he couldn’t think. Craig was really here. When John Paul needed him most he was here. He could feel tears of relief and desperation begin to fill his eyes.

“Mum, d’you mind if I don’t help with the shopping?” John Paul said quietly as he began to move back up the stairs.

Myra simply shook her head. If anything, anyone, could help John Paul now it would be that lovely dark-haired boy and she thanked god for sending him back home.



Standing in John Paul’s room felt so familiar but at the same time so alien. There was something deep in John Paul’s eyes that frightened Craig. A look he had never seen before. A look of fear, of loss or of something so unexplainable that it gripped Craig’s chest with panic.

Touching his hand to John Paul’s face Craig traced over the fading bruises. Faded now but still visible after all these weeks. Craig began to realise that the attack on his love was far more serious that he had been told and the thought that John Paul had faced it alone made his heart scream in pain.

“You should have told me,” Craig said softly as his fingers still brushed gently over John Paul’s features, “You should have let me know it was this bad.”

“I didn’t want to worry you,” John Paul said trying to blink back the tears that were threatening to fall.

“I love you John Paul,” Craig told him, “It’s my job to worry about you… just like it’s my job to be here when you need me…”

Without warning John Paul’s resolved melted under the weight of his tears and he collapsed sobbing into his boyfriend’s arms. The pain and distress of the past few weeks poured out of him as Craig held him close.

Craig moved John Paul towards the bed where they both sat down. Craig wrapped his arms tightly around John Paul’s weeping frame and kissed lightly at the top of his head as he whispered words of comfort to the distraught man.

“It’s OK,” Craig repeated over and over again, “I’m here now, I won’t let anything hurt you again.”

Craig struggled to hold back the tears in his own eyes as he cursed himself for not trusting his original instincts. He should have been here sooner. John Paul needed him and he should have come home straight away. Instead he had left the man he loved to suffer alone and the very thought of the pain John Paul had been going through tore sharply at Craig’s insides.

Craig held on to John Paul as he sobbed violently. He held him as he cried heavily. He held him as he sobbed lightly. And he continued to hold him as the tears passed and the man sniffled in his arms, shaking and broken.

“I’m sorry,” John Paul mumbled with his face pressed tightly into Craig’s chest.

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry about,” Craig told him as he stroked the man’s hair softly, “Nothing at all… don’t you ever think that.”

“Thank you,” John Paul said as he lifted his face from Craig’s tear-stained shirt. His blue eyes were red and swollen from his tears but their beauty still took Craig’s breath away.

“What for?”

“Coming back… being here when I needed you… loving me…”

Craig took John Paul’s face gently in his hands and touched his lips against John Paul’s soft mouth.

“Where else would I be?” Craig asked him, “Who else could I love? There can never be anyone else but you… you’re all that I need John Paul… all that I want… and I will be here for you… as long as you want me to be.”

“You free for the next hundred years then?” There was laughter in John Paul’s voice and the sound was like music to Craig’s soul.

Craig wiped the last of John Paul’s tears from his cheeks. “You bet,” he said kissing the man again, “The next hundred, the next million… for always!”

“I like the sound of that,” John Paul said as he rested himself against the strength of Craig’s chest, “I love you Craig… always.”



They sat together for some time in silence, holding each other, being together and needing nothing or no one else in the world.

“Why don’t we go for a drink?” Craig asked as he held John Paul’s hand and kissed his fingers.

“Drink?” Already John Paul could feel the familiar panic begin to rise in his chest.

“Yeah… you know… Drink… beer… the pub!”

“You mean go out?”

“Well that’s generally where the pub is.” Craig started to laugh until he noticed John Paul start to tremble in his arms again.

“I don’t know if I fancy it,” John Paul said trying desperately to keep his voice calm and failing totally.

Craig could feel John Paul’s body tense, he could hear the panic rising in the man’s voice and the final piece of the puzzle fell into place. The terrible look in his lover’s eyes began to make sense.

“John Paul…” Craig tried to keep his tone light but the concern in his voice was evident, “When did you last go out?”

“To the pub? I’m not sure… I…”

Holding John Paul’s face Craig turned the man’s eyes to look at him.

“I don’t mean to the pub… and I think you know that… when did you last go outside… anywhere?”

John Paul’s lips began to shake with distress and relief. He knew he wouldn’t be able to lie to Craig but more than that he knew that he didn’t want to.

“I can’t,” he admitted quietly, “I can’t do it… I can’t face it… not since…”

He didn’t finish his sentence, he didn’t need to, they both knew the event that had kept John Paul hidden inside his home for weeks.

“You should have told me,” Craig said with pain in his eyes. The more he learned of John Paul’s suffering the worse he felt that he hadn’t been there for him, that he hadn’t been around to help.